That had been almost two hundred years ago, in another time and another place, seeming so many lifetimes ago. Laje-tal struggled to her feet, coughing up the small amount of blood in her mouth. Digging her claws into the dirt, arms straining against the pain and weakness in her muscles, she finally rose, looking around to see where she had ended up. The attack had come by surprise, catching her while she had been asleep. Skyrim had seemed so safe in the wilderness, only filled with bears and giants. In the night, several bandits had attacked, not one of them realizing who they were fighting against. She had taken them out easily enough, but her magicka was drained nearly to the point of collapse soon after.
"Always overdoing it, aren't you?" she asked herself rhetorically, groaning as she stood straighter. Those bandits hadn't known that she was Telvanni, and even though they outnumbered her twelve to one, she had enough magic to go around and they had annoyed her enough to make their annihilation satisfying. It had been too long since she had summoned up so much power and she had to admit it felt good. For now she stifled the energy that still burned in her blood, checking the landscape for anything resembling civilization. The Nords were accepting enough of magic to a point, but an Argonian mage was an oddity enough on its own; she didn't need her magic to spontaneously combust on top of everything else.
Staggering down a dirt trail, she picked her way down to a poorly kept but clear road, following a direction at random. One way or the other, a road led to water and then to towns. From there she could regroup. Suddenly a slight splat of water hit her nose and she looked to the sky with a groan. "By Azura, what now?" Her question was answered soon enough as more drops of water fell to the ground, splashing about as it rained steadily harder until the din almost drowned out her thoughts. Almost.
As she trudged on miserably in the pouring rain, looking for a temporary shelter, she was once again lost in the many thoughts that roiled through her mind. This place was so different from home, though she had gotten used to it after being immersed for so long. Back then, she didn't know where she was escaping to. Morrowind, and then the province of Vvardenfell, had always been her home. Outside of it were strange, foreign lands that she had only heard of. Azura had directed her to go north and then west, so she did as guided, bringing with her all in her household that had heeded her vision. It couldn't have been more well timed. Any later and there would have been no escape at all, only death. Only the violent explosion of Red Mountain destroying nearly everything on the continent and then some.
"Ah, Aryon, I bet you are laughing at me right now, wherever you are. Nerevar reborn, mucking through the mud in Skyrim, picking fights with idiot bandits, looking for any sign of you." Spotting an outcropping of rock she darted under it, finally free of the dense rain. It wasn't exactly a warm inn and a bed, but there was enough dry wood about to make a fire so she couldn't complain. As soon as she set up a small fire, trying to dry out as much she could before it got any colder, her attention was drawn to the rolling clouds outside, scudding quickly as the winds pushed them forward.
"I should have known better than to expect anything else. I'm doomed for all eternity to trudge through whatever falls in my path." She hadn't understood what Azura meant back then. The curse of flesh part of the Nerevarine prophecy made sense enough, but she hadn't realized the true meaning of how blight nor age would harm the Nerevarine. She hadn't thought it would make her truly immortal. Though there were many in House Telvanni that extended their lives indefinitely through various spell methods, she herself hadn't dabbled in it much. The ways of the Hist were about life, death and renewal. Despite having been born and raised outside of her homeland, she still felt connected to the Hist, just as any other Argonian. Without the cycle of death, she was stuck as she was for who knew how long.
Every day she set forth on some new or continued task, always looking for a hint or rumor about any powerful mages. Maybe she might do a favor to win trust, and some called her a local hero, some called her brave or courageous. Inside, she wasn't any of these things. Each new adventure was in hope of finding something, anything that might help her find Aryon again. They had become separated in Skyrim during the Forsworn Rebellion. When Azura had said west, she took it quite literally, going as west as she possibly could in Skyrim and into Markarth, where they had lived quietly enough in the outskirts until the Forsworn had come about and attacked. Naturally they attacked back but in the confusion they became separated and she hadn't seen him since. She had fled all the way past Falkreath to lay low during the two years of war, avoiding more Forsworn as they pushed east. There was always the possibility he had been killed, but she doubted it. He was just as much of a powerful mage as she was.
"I can't do this." Kicking her campfire out into the rain, she left her small shelter, going out once again onto the road. The rain didn't matter anymore. It was cold, hard and hit her skin like pellets of ice but it was distracting. Under this torrent, she could think clearly. "I can't give up, not even after twenty five years of looking. I have to think of something."
It was dark, cold and wet. The only good thing about this was that her dark scales and coloring easily blended into the night and made her nearly invisible. Creatures nearby were either avoiding being out in the open or were asleep, so she made it to a nearby building without opposition. Looking up, she saw a sign for the inn flapping in the wind, Braidwood Inn of Kynesgrove. "It's about time," she grumbled, her energy returning somewhat as she walked into the inn. A fresh wave of wonderful heat hit her face, and against her usual composure she sighed with relief. She took a moment to get warm by the fire, ignoring the greeting from the innkeeper. It wouldn't dry her off quickly, but she didn't care. It was warm and it was there right now.
A few other people lingered nearby, talking, eating, or listening to the bard sing. They tried their best to not look like they were secretly watching the unusual traveler, but she felt their stare like a weight on her shoulders. At least she was used to it. Even after these many years, she was still gawked at by every human and even many of the elves. In Markarth, she had been able to come and go more or less unnoticed, the natives used to her presence, but it no longer bothered her. Finally warm enough to move again she approached the bar at the back, ordering a plain ale and stew. Somehow the Nord mead never sat with her right.
Iddra served her quickly, leaning back with a sympathetic look on her face. "Did Ulfric kick you out too, Argonian? Seems every day he's finding someone lingering out of the Gray Quarter, he kicks them out for the day and they've got no place to come but here. Not that I dislike all the new business I get."
She recognized the name of the Stormcloaks leader, but she hadn't heard much of the situation in Windhelm. "No, I haven't been to Windhelm yet."
"Yet? You really want to go there? I wouldn't if I were you, he isn't fond of anyone who isn't a Nord. Whatever you're doing out there, I'd avoid going anywhere near the place."
Laje-tal only huffed quietly. "Ulfric doesn't scare me. He's just a man." Taking a good gulp of ale, she grinned a toothy grin. "I don't care if I have to lift Ulfric's boot off the floor to look beneath it, he won't stop me from my search."
Caught off guard by the other's tenacity, she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it was. "If you say so. What are you looking for? Maybe someone around here could help you."
For a moment, she considered it. If she could avoid Windhelm she would. Though she was hardly worried about being in the place, she still found it distasteful. It wouldn't hurt to ask around. "I am looking for a Dunmer. I've been searching the west for many years, working my way east. I have looked every place that Dunmer were said to gather, and now I've come here as many have said that the Dunmer largely settled here."
"Hmm." Taking a brief look around, making sure nobody else needed anything, she leaned back against the bar, tired. "You might not be able to avoid Windhelm, then. There are some dark elves in the Gray Quarter, it's the only place in Windhelm they're safe. Nothing else, there's a bar down in the quarter, they might at least know where there are others. Can't help you much on that."
She waved off the other's apology with a grunt. "I didn't expect you to. Finding Dunmer here is hard enough. They keep out of sight of the Nords, but it means I can't find them easily either. I suppose there's no helping it." Sliding a handful of coins down the bar, she put down her empty bottle and bowl with an exhausted clank. "I'll take a room for the night."
"Coming right up." Shoving off from the bar edge she led her guest to the room, gesturing grandly into the small enclosure. "Cozy enough, trust me. Alright, any people after your blood I should know about?"
Laje-tal only chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet. Give it time, there will be." Relieved to have a safe place to sleep at last she closed the door, stripping off her wet clothes and laying them to dry over the chair and nearby dresser, changing into a dry set. The next moments blurred into nothing, fading away as she dropped into the bed to sleep, barely even managing to pull the covers over before losing consciousness. Tomorrow was another day, but she was finally hopeful after such a long, fruitless search.
Morning came, and of course she had slept longer than planned, but the rest was worth it. She woke with renewed determination, and she had the energy to back it up. Her wet clothes had dried out enough to be packed away, but they were stiff and crusty from who knew how many residues on them. The mage robes she had on now were at least clean, so she wasted no more time and headed out of the inn, ignoring any who greeted her. She wasn't in any mood for pleasantries.
North of Kynesgrove, she followed the stony road all the way to the gates of Windhelm, pausing long enough to look up at them with frustration. A guard looked at her for longer than she was comfortable with so she moved on, not letting the other have the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. They couldn't do anything to her as long as she didn't do anything wrong, but she knew they were watching her closely for any small thing. It was best to keep moving.
Her first impression of Windhelm wasn't a good one. Nords accosting a Dunmer woman simply going about her business didn't bode well, but she stopped the encounter quickly enough, going as far as brawling with one of them. Against her years of experience and training they were just annoyances. The woman, who had wisely backed away during the fight, now approached her with an appreciative gaze. "That was impressive, Argonian. It's not every day that someone puts Rolff in his place. I don't know how I could begin to thank you for your help."
Laje-tal only shrugged. She somehow found herself doing these things everywhere she went anyway. "It was nothing." Pausing briefly, she took a quick look around the oddly organized city. "Well, maybe you can help me after all. I am looking for a Dunmer man, looks about your age. He is a great wizard and has connections to the great houses. Do you know anyone like that?"
"I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "There is one from House Hlaalu, but he isn't a wizard. I'm not sure about any others from the old houses. Some had no affiliation at all, and a great wizard wouldn't be able to stay here long without Ulfric getting nervous. Maybe Ambarys would know where to look. Go down into the Gray Quarter and look for the New Gnisis Cornerclub, Ambarys should know more about the others here." She took a quick breath of air in suddenly. "Oh, and be careful around here. Argonians stay down by the docks if they can help it, the guards are known to rough up any who are too bold."
"I'll keep that in mind," she promised, already eager to head further into the city, guards be damned. "Thanks for the information." Without any more hesitation she walked quickly to the back of the city, down into the broken alleys of the Gray Quarter. At first it looked much like the rest of the city, albeit more run down, but several brightly colored banners waving in the breeze caught her attention. "A little touch of home, hm? Maybe they will have a few drinks from Morrowind." Not risking any more words lest anyone overhear her, she moved faster down the narrow alley. It wasn't common knowledge that she was still alive. On the contrary, it had been quite a business covering her escape. Luckily there had been an Argonian volunteer that looked enough like her to spread rumors that she had run to Akavir just before the Oblivion crisis, and during the crisis all who had seen her had died or hadn't noticed her in the confusion.
The New Gnisis Cornerclub wasn't much to look at, but it did remind her of Gnisis – the wooden, run down miner shacks in Gnisis, anyway. She was hardly picky, though, and the idea of something other than Nord fare was too appetizing to pass up. Taking care on the uneven street as she entered, a familiar smell of spices and food met her the moment she came in, drawing her further inside. A Dunmer man swept the floor nearby, another tended the bar. Assuming the one at the bar was Ambarys, she took a stool at the bar, asking what was good on the menu.
Ambarys gave her an odd look but gave her the run down nonetheless. "The usual things you'd find around here, plus a few brews from our homeland. I haven't seen you around here before, Argonian. Are you a new worker at the docks?"
"Hardly," she said with a scoff. "I'm a battlemage, couldn't you tell?"
He backed away, taking in her clothing. "Not every day you see an Argonian battlemage. You'd better be careful out there, Ulfric doesn't appreciate our like getting too close to his little castle, especially the mages."
"I know, and I don't care. He would find out quickly that picking a fight with me would cause him more harm than good. You said you had some brews from Morrowind?"
Smiling at her conviction, he took a calmer pose. "I do. I managed to save some sujamma and mazte, along with a bit of Cyrodiilic brandy from the Imperials. There isn't much, but it's just as much for sale as anything else I have. We've had a handful of shipments coming in from Solstheim where it's still being made."
Her attention caught with that one. "Solstheim? Well now... I suppose that makes sense. There's probably plenty enough ash to grow just about anything native to Vvardenfell there. Well why not, I'm getting tired of the same thing over and over. How about some of that mazte?"
"A fine choice, to be sure." He took out a larger sized jug, taking the pay for it and passing it over. "So what brings an Argonian battlemage to a place like Windhelm?"
She waited until she had taken a swig of the mazte, savoring the flavor for the first time in at least two hundred years. "This is very good indeed. I'm not sure if you can help me, but you seem just as good as anyone to know. I have been looking for a Dunmer, he is older but he still looks young, he was once allied with House Telvanni and was a great wizard there. From what I could tell, most of the Dunmer of Skyrim are here or near here, but I haven't found anything so far."
Ambarys looked at her with a guarded expression, taking the odd situation with a dash of skepticism. "A Telvanni wizard? How in all the planes of Oblivion did an Argonian battlemage and a Telvanni wizard even have the chance to meet?"
Being cautious with her wording, she explained with a carefully plain tone. "We knew each other in Markath. We were both drawn to the mysteries of Dwarven constructs and started talking after ending up at the same exhibit in the Dwemer museum there. He had several theories about the workings of the machinery there, and before you knew it, we had become friends. It didn't matter to him that I was an Argonian, we were only interested in ruins. We lost track of each other during the Markarth Incident and I haven't seen him since, not for lack of trying."
"An interesting tale." He paused to think, cleaning a glass absently. "The only Telvanni mage I know of is on the isle of Solstheim. He does know quite a bit about Dwemer ruins, he lives near a site in Tel Mithryn. Has a whole Telvanni style tower, all in a small holding. Sound like your man?"
Feeling hopeful but not wanting to get too excited she perked up, eyes lighting with interest. "That does sound like him, though I'm not sure why he would go to Solstheim. I suppose since we had both taken an interest in the Dwemer ruins there, he thought I might come there. What was the name of this mage?"
"I believe it was Neloth, one of the former masters of the house. He escaped some time during the Red Year, looking to explore the island or something along that line."
"Fantastic," she said glumly, voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, I'm not looking for Neloth, although I might go see him now that I know he is there. If nothing else I know he would be glad to have some blanks filled in on his research." She also owed him a good punch for disappearing during the Oblivion crisis. "No, I'm afraid he's not the one I'm looking for."
Malthyr, who had been silent until now, spoke up at that. "There are a few Dunmer that visit that outpost to the east, leaving offerings to the dead. It's been used as a message post for anyone looking to reunite with people they can't find for a long time. If nothing else you could try to leave a message there. Almost every Dunmer I know knows about that post. Anyone looking for someone should go there."
"An outpost?" she questioned, her horned brows raising higher. "They leave offerings at an outpost?"
"Not much else they could do. We didn't have the luxury of building ancestral tombs here, and most of the ones that already existed were torn apart by the eruption. They still had a proper burning, but the ashes were buried here in Skyrim, the land that was supposed to welcome us and take us in." He grunted with a sneer. "Well never mind that. They were buried here so everyone could have a place to visit them. If you follow the road east from here, you'll see it eventually. It's past the farms, but it's easy to spot from the road."
"Might as well give it a try." Even if Aryon had passed away after all, she at least had a place to offer her respects, no matter where he had ended up. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but it was worth it to prepare for that possibility. "I don't suppose you have any ash yams, do you? I've heard it's customary to leave them as an offering for a Dunmer. Just in case... in case he has died."
Ambarys leaned over the bar, handing her an ash yam. "I do have a few from the last shipment. No charge. Never expected an Argonian to know our traditions, but I guess your friend was a good friend indeed. Just make sure and offer my respects as well. It's hard escaping this city as it is."
"Of course." She took it gratefully, considering whether she should tell him more. It had been a long time since she had had a chat with someone from Morrowind. "I was originally from Morrowind myself, so knowing your customs was something I had learned from the start. Honestly I don't know much about Black Marsh, living next to Dunmer and Imperials my whole life." Finishing off the last of the mazte, she rose from the tall stool, preparing to leave. "Thanks for the help." Leaving the bar with a small bit of hope, she walked through the cramped alley and left the obnoxious city, heading east along the road. With any luck she would make it by midday.
Cold wind beating at her back, she raised her hood to try and keep warm. Such a thing was hard at best in the high altitudes of this place but she had survived worse. Quaint farms, one owned by the former Hlaalu she had heard about, stretched out along the road. Snowberries grew everywhere, clustering into every crack in the cold earth and giving company to lone trees. In the distance lay an abandoned building, which she avoided out of habit. Places like that were always crawling with something and she didn't feel like bothering with it right now. She pushed onward, heading to the tower now appearing in the distance.
Aside from a pair of frost trolls attacking her the moment she came near, the outpost was everything she had expected. It was worn down, beaten up, and full of bones and random items. A rough stone wall outside lined a makeshift graveyard, each mound labeled with a simple wood post. Taking a moment to view the two stone structures serving as monuments at each end, she chose one at random and knelt to place the ash yam at the base. She wasn't the type to pray. Even though she had been helped by Azura in escaping, she had never prayed to the Daedric lord. Somehow she got the feeling that Azura didn't mind. Instead she stayed silent, simply offering her respect in her own way, listening to the wind as it drifted over the snow.
Every day she lingered there at the ruins. Days passed, then a week. She came without fail, staying the day and wandering to Kynesgrove at night. As each day passed it became more and more disappointing but it was her only hope and she clung to it ruthlessly. Today she sat and stared at the graves she had memorized, puffs of mist hovering about her as her warm breath hit the chilly air. Something strange was in that air, she could feel it. Something was different. With a small smile to herself she relished in the change, knowing her efforts hadn't been in vain. He had come after all.
He hadn't expected there to be someone else at the monument today. Most times few came by here, sometimes the occasional Dunmer, but seeing an Argonian was very strange indeed. Aryon had spent the last few years frequenting places in the east, keeping an eye out for any Argonians, anyone who might know where Laje-tal had gone to. No matter what curious looks he got as a result, he never stopped looking for the student-turned-master that had changed his life forever. At the beginning of his term in House Telvanni, he had known and understood the wants of the other masters to simply be left alone to their work, but he also understood the need for allies in perilous times. He had been desperate for any ally who could help him overturn the stagnation of the house, but the prospects had been poor. After Divayth Fyr turned down the offer to join forces with him, he had needed to make a very careful set of decisions.
To his surprise and amusement, Laje-tal had risen through the Telvanni ranks with ease. She was a natural mage and had little trouble with every task he had set before her. That she was an Argonian only made it all the more amusing to watch. When she had one day come back with a serious look on her face, having defeated Gothren in single combat, everything had changed. It wasn't funny anymore. They had made the most crucial maneuver in getting the house back on its feet. She had persuaded him to give her a false identity to take leadership from Gothren in her stead, knowing an Argonian leader would only make things worse, and he had accepted, passing their orders through very cautious messages.
Despite himself, he had grown a strange affection for his student. Though he had his misgivings at first, being what they were, they had always been of a similar mind, taking interest in the Dwemer ruins and architecture, researching the mysteries of the arcane. It hadn't been long before they developed a bond beyond that of mutual admiration and respect. Though the initial realization had happened due to the heat of the moment, it had become quite real in time. For a while, everything had gone on well enough all things considered, at least until that day everything had fallen apart.
It had to be her. He knew those markings on her tail, they were too distinct to be anyone else. At a loss for words, he shoved back his mage hood, approaching her quietly. She had sensed him by now, he knew. Finally regaining enough composure to laugh at his own ridiculous hesitation he came just a bit closer as she turned, startled by his sudden laughter. Rising to her feet quickly, she couldn't keep the amusement and shock out of her voice. "You see me for the first time in twenty five years and all you can do is laugh?"
Simply closing the gap and tugging her into a tight embrace, he nodded against her shoulder. "Glad to see you too," he muttered sarcastically, drawing back to look at her fully. Not surprisingly she hadn't changed much since he last saw her, though her clothing was different. "After I had to run all the way to Winterhold to avoid the fighting I thought I'd never find you again."
"Winterhold? Ah why did I not think of that place? It should have been the first place I had searched, what with the College there. I got pinned down south near Falkreath those long two years, I could hardly leave the mountains. I can't imagine why I didn't think to go towards Winterhold."
"It's better that you didn't," he said with a grimace. "The Nords in the area are especially nervous around mages, those in the college bar entry to anyone who isn't a mage. I had to hide even from mages!"
She grinned widely. "What, you didn't want to join their little club?"
"Hardly." Releasing her from their embrace, he looked out into the distance absently. "It's freezing out here. I don't know how they stand it."
To be honest, the cold was finally getting to her too. Glancing over, she looked at his strange clothing that she hadn't noticed before. It looked like an assortment of all sorts of things, layered for warmth all on top of a battered mage robe. Strange, how the years had brought back a nervous distance, neither of them quite sure what to do now that they found each other. Laje-tal pulled her cloak closer, shuddering in the chill, trying to initiate some sort of normal conversation. "I'm sure you don't want to end up in Windhelm any more than I do but there is a place in the city that has a few treasures you might be interested in."
He looked at her skeptically. "Oh? What sort of treasures could those Nords have?"
"Not Nords, other Dunmer. Mazte and sujamma straight from Solstheim, and a fair price too, considering. Oh, also apparently Neloth is still alive."
Aryon scoffed. "That old mudcrab is a permanent fixture, always knowing when to get out of the way. I had heard he moved to Solstheim but after that eruption it was hard to tell if anyone lived through it."
She smiled at that, seeing the Aryon she remembered under that travel-weary gaze."I really missed you."
Usually more reserved about their affections, he didn't hesitate to pull her back into his arms, giving her a chaste but meaningful kiss. "I missed you too, love." They both shuddered as a particularly cold blast of wind hit them. "I know I won't miss this cold. Let's get out of here." Bearing as much against the wind as they could, they headed towards Windhelm slowly.
Idly she wondered what sort of reception they would receive if they went to Solstheim to look up their... old friend. Neloth had always been an eccentric type, not really caring who or what got in his way as long as the end result was more answers for his research. He hadn't cared in the least about her involvement in the house, either, as long as everything continued as normal. Even now he probably wouldn't care if they came to visit, he would just go on as if nothing had ever happened and insist they help him test a new spell. It would be the first semblance of normalcy since the eruption.
Dusk had settled on Windhelm by the time they arrived, drenching everything in waning light. One of the first things they saw was the man she had punched senseless after he had accosted the Dunmer woman. It was enjoyable to see him avoid her with a wary gaze. Aryon eyed her suspiciously. "You sure do know how to charm the masses, don't you?"
"I always have," she remarked with a wry grin. "The Nords here won't like us much, and he was the worst of the bunch. I doubt they will bother us, though, after watching the alpha wolf run away with his tail between his legs."
He sighed an amused sigh, shaking his head helplessly. "You haven't changed one bit."
She only shrugged, leading the way down into the Gray Quarter. It was strange how this area of town felt more comfortable than the nice, well kept area on the western half of the city, but that was the funny thing about nostalgia. One would gladly wipe away the dust, knowing what lay underneath. They stopped outside the cornerclub and she turned to him, watching him look around. "It isn't much, I know, but everyone here has done the best they can to make it livable."
"All considered, they did well to do this much." Feeling the eyes of a guard on their backs, he followed right after her into the bar, escaping into the small haven. A few people were inside, having come down from the market or up from the docks, enjoying dinner and drinks after a long day. They somehow managed to grab the left corner table without being greeted, but it wasn't long before Malthyr came back into the bar with a full crate of drinks. As soon as he noticed them, he set the crate down near the bar, going over to greet them immediately.
Clearly Malthyr was hiding his amusement as he peered at each of them, settling on a grin. "Well now, what will it be for you two?"
Laje-tal waved him off with a clawed hand. "Mazte, of course."
"I just got another shipment from Raven Rock, they finally sent me some of the older brews we've been begging for. Some of those Nords might find their shipments missing a thing or two but you better believe everything we order comes to us all in however many pieces we requested. If the Argonians are right, I may even have some flin in there." He then turned to the stranger, still not sure how to handle a great wizard's presence here. Many Telvanni were known to be very particular, but a customer was a customer and if the man wanted a drink then he was going to get one. "And what can I get for you, sir? Your friend here mentioned something about you when she was last here but she left out the most important part! What sort of drink would suit your fancy?"
Aryon laughed lightly, sparing his companion a mischievous glance. "It would be just like my wife to leave out such a crucial detail. I'll gladly take a Cyrodiilic brandy if you have it."
"I just so happen to have a very fine year in the back, it's..." He halted, suddenly realizing what had just been said. "Your wife? She's your wife?" A few heads from the other side of the bar turned at his raised voice, eyebrows already threatening to twitch. Laje-tal hushed him with a warning glare.
"As much as I love him, I'd rather you not shout it loud enough for city of Whiterun to hear it. It's hard enough as it is." As quickly as she had retaliated, though, she sighed, giving up the argument. "Never mind, it was bound to happen anyway."
If they hadn't been so serious he wouldn't have believed it. Argonians and Dunmer had been mortal enemies since the first skirmish, and though some real friendships had been forged between individuals, especially in an environment that forced them to coexist, even those strong bonds were regularly strained by the tensions between their races. Marriage, especially one formed out of love, was another matter entirely. Both races took such a thing very seriously. Still, this war and many others had created many far stranger things, so he didn't question it further. "No worries, nobody here will tell the people that have no business knowing. I'll grab your drinks, Ambarys should be back soon with more. Gotta have plenty for the evening rush."
As soon as he was out of earshot, Laje-tal turned back to Aryon, keeping her voice low. "We never were very good at keeping too many secrets, were we?"
He merely shook his head. "It just doesn't seem to matter as much as it used to." With a sigh, he leaned back, trying to get comfortable. "At least here we have people we know."
"Right, it wasn't so easy in Markarth," she said with a groan. "Every so often we would have to move so they wouldn't catch on that I wasn't aging. You, we could explain easily, but Argonians are lucky if they make it past one hundred, and twice that is impossible. So many things have happened, it feels like such a long time ago, but I'm the same as I was that day in Ilunibi."
Knowing she still had mixed feelings about her immortality, he reassured her just the way he had always done. "I got it too, you know." He gestured to his covered left arm where some of his skin was still blemished from catching corprus disease from her. "Even Divayth wasn't sure his potion would work, but it is what it is. All he could do was stop the ill effects, and we were lucky for that much." Suddenly changing the topic, not wanting to think about what had bothered them both since they realized their fate, he tried smiling against their troubles. "What have you been doing for the last twenty five years out there?"
She knew a dodge when she heard it but they hadn't lasted this long by arguing. It would come up another time and they would think about it when it came. They had the time. "Hiding, mostly. I did what I could to stay in the thick of Imperial territory whenever possible but they had their own troubles too. They were fighting the Forsworn as much as anyone else, it was all a long, bloody mess. I stayed near Falkreath for most of the war, moving east all the way to Ivarstead. After that, I looked for you. I had no idea what had happened to you."
"It's quite a tale," he said with a grim smile. "I tried to stay near Markarth but there were too many Forsworn everywhere and they pushed out in any direction they could, scattering forces everywhere. It was brilliant, really. They weren't as numerous as the armies they eventually were defeated by so they used scatter tactics to break any formations they came across. I had a hard time staying in the cities, and once I heard about the statue of Azura, I figured I would be better off in the wilderness. From time to time I would go out to the outpost, seeing if there were any names I recognized. There are a few we know here."
"That's good." For many years they had been unsure of what had happened to those they hadn't brought along with them. In the chaos it had been impossible to tell, but now more and more details were becoming clearer as they looked into it. "Any word of what became of that ship of yours?"
"The Pride of Tel Vos? I still don't know why they insisted on calling it that." Frowning, he shifted slightly. "I heard a Dunmer down in Riften is looking for the wreck. Ran aground up north. I haven't had time to look into it yet but it's good to know at least someone survived. Still, I left that blasted thing with my best sailors to get as many out as they could. It must have been some storm."
"Damn." She shared her own frown, gripping the hilt of the sword at her hip reflexively. "Many of those slaves I freed from the other Telvanni were on that ship. Well, we can't really know they didn't survive. There might have been a few."
"I hope so." They quieted down when Malthyr came by with their drinks, but started up again as soon as he left. Aryon looked at her one gloved hand, knowing what was there. Nerevar's ring, the one thing she had never wanted to part with. It was one of only a few things they still had from their time in Morrowind, all the rest gone to the corners of the world. "You still have it." It wasn't a question, and he knew she understood what he meant.
She nodded. "A few of the gifts the ashlanders gave me survived the raid. Luckily they preferred smaller things. I had an easier time rescuing them." From her small pack she took out a star shaped amulet known as the teeth of the Urshilaku, passing it over to him. "Remember this?"
"I haven't seen this one in a while. It was in that old display case if I remember right."
"They and the Zainab were so understanding with me in spite of everything. I don't think they wanted an Argonian to play the part any more than anyone else did, but they gave me the fairness of a chance." Stashing away the amulet she finally had some of her mazte, stopping the line of conversation now that more people had come in after finishing up at the docks. Sometimes she wished she could tell someone besides Aryon about all of the things she had been through, that they had both been through, but the few she had confided in before were probably dead. Maybe a couple Dunmer still knew her but it was a matter of finding them. Even then their conversations would have to be just like this; hushed, secretive and rarely mentioned again.
Aryon watched her more closely, having an idea what she was thinking about. He never knew how he had come to understand her so clearly and she understood him in return, but love was strange like that. From the beginning he knew how hard it was to keep everything hidden like they did, but he knew it was for their own safety. After being attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, it had been a harsh wakeup call in more ways than one. As powerful as they were, even after taking the fight to the Dark Brotherhood face to face, they knew they had to change what they were doing. The eruption of Red Mountain hadn't been only a tragedy, it had also been a liberation. In the aftermath they disappeared, spreading false rumors and going in the opposite direction they had been advertised going. It had been a lifetime or two of running. "I'm tired of running too."
Glad for his perception despite the years they spent apart she nodded, feeling the weight of it heavily as she did so. "I'm very tired of it. I don't want to run anymore."
Ignoring their usual agreement to not show affection in public he laid his right hand over her gloved one, firm enough to feel the moon and star ring dig into his palm. "Maybe we don't have to anymore. The Dark Brotherhood is in shambles now, most disputes are settled with small bands of hired muscle and the like, if not by single combat alone. Imperials and Stormcloaks have their armies but they are too busy killing each other to worry about us."
"The Thalmor, though..."
"Too busy protecting their interests. They might be mildly interested in us at first but I know we would make it not worth their time to be too interested. You defeated him, after all. What would they really do even if they knew everything?" Taking in her startled expression he smiled slightly. "I have considered this, after watching all of the happenings around here. A few of the visitors of the shrine to Azura know who I really am, and nothing has happened so far. With all of the current troubles we would probably get no more attention than Neloth does."
"Maybe." She didn't withdraw her hand but she still distanced herself with a distracted glance."It would still be risky."
"And everything we have done until now wasn't?" Feeling more powered by his reason he grew more excited by the idea. "What are a bunch of Nords after the Sixth House? After the accession war? The Oblivion crisis? The eruption? It's nothing!"
Taken back by his courage she reassessed her stance on their situation. Maybe after everything, this was just a small rock on top of a pile of many bigger rocks. With a smile she recalled an Argonian proverb a former slave had told her. "The shifting rock makes way for the trees."
"That it does, sometimes a bit too well! Nothing like a hundred roots growing into your dungeon to remind you of that."
Remembering the state of the underground portion of Tel Vos brought a small chuckle out of her. "Yes, this time around you would know to build the house first, then the dungeon."
It had been a sarcastic remark but he took a moment to really consider it. "I wonder how the Nords would like a Telvanni stronghold out in their mountains."
That earned him a peculiar look. "I do hope you're joking."
"Well why not? I'm sure someone has land for sale somewhere. Those mushrooms are very hardy, they could easily withstand even the winters here. Once they realized what was going on it would be too late. Besides, if the land was owned legally, they wouldn't have any say in how that land was used anyway. The Nords are nothing if not honorable about their trades and sales."
She considered it seriously now, knowing he would give her all the time she needed to think. In all honesty she liked the idea of going back to something similar to what they had before, never mind the danger. Still, there was one more thing bothering her. "I'm just worried that the Nords would take a Telvanni structure as a direct threat and turn their attentions to Morrowind. They are already suffering so badly they wouldn't stand a chance, even with House Redoran watching them."
"I don't think they would. Telvanni are known for keeping to their own affairs and not meddling around. They would complain for a while but once they saw nothing was happening, they would let us be and go back to the Imperials. If this war has done anything good at all it has made it easier to move around and avoid unwanted attention."
"Let's just think about it for a while." Taking back her hand she tugged off her glove, revealing the moon and star. "For now, I'll just let this go. If someone recognizes me, they recognize me. If not, that's alright too. I won't be afraid of myself anymore."
He shot her a small smile. "It's a good start." They were halfway through their jugs and with only a glance at each other they traded drinks, pouring the different beverage into their cups. It was something they had done at many taverns before, usually getting bored with the same thing halfway through. Once they noticed what they had unconsciously done despite the years of separation they shared an amused grin, going back to enjoying the evening hours quietly.
In the other corner of the bar an Argonian man had been watching, his friend at the table trying to keep him from doing so. Neetranza and Shahvee had been sharing the usual sort of conversation, nothing out of the ordinary until the Dunmer and Argonian woman had come in together. It wouldn't have seemed strange except that they sat at the same table, sharing the sorts of glances that definitely went beyond the standard friendly type some of the Dunmer here shared with the dock workers. No, the Dunmer and Argonians around here got along like a wet cat and dog caught under the same cave in a rainstorm.
"Stop staring, Neetranza. You know you wouldn't want the same for yourself."
Neetranza turned to Shahvee, letting out an unrepentant grunt. "Well, they're asking for it."
"It doesn't matter. Life is hard enough for it as it is without complicating it with gossip and nonsense."
"No thanks to your Zenithar." Recoiling at her harsh glare he backed off a little. Very little. "Alright, never mind that. Never mind our clan traditions, our ways of living. Never mind any of it."
She frowned sharply. "You're miserable company. I would bet they are far more interesting than you are."
He simply dismissed her with a flip of his hand. "If I'm so miserable and they're so interesting why don't you go join them?"
"Now that is a fine idea indeed!" Rising from her chair with haughty energy, her tail flicking around behind her, she shoved in her chair, going over to the other side of the bar. She missed Neetranza's wide-eyed look as she sat down at the table, startling the two companions already there. Offering them an apologetic grin she gestured over her shoulder discreetly. "I don't mean to bother you but I had to show scales-for-brains over there that elves and Argonians can be perfectly civil with each other. He has been trying to crawl under my hide all day."
Across from her Laje-tal looked at her with confused recognition. "Shahvee?"
Blinking, Shahvee leaned closer. "Ah, I remember you now! Yes, we met once before in Whiterun, right? Or maybe it was near there? Right, during the years after the Forsworn caused such a mess. I had saved up enough to make a trip there for some herbs I couldn't find here." She spared a glance at her Dunmer companion. "Well, I assume this is the one you were looking for? Your... friend?"
Even after knowing her for a short time, Laje-tal knew she could trust Shahvee. The other woman had been nothing but understanding no matter what life threw at her. It was one of the few times she corrected someone without hesitation. "No, my husband. Did you find the herbs you needed?"
"For the most part. I'm afraid they needed the lavender more than I did with the war going on." Looking at her friend's revealed husband in earnest now she gave him a wide smile, accepting him just as easily as anyone else. "Don't mind what anyone else says, you're welcome in Windhelm whenever you like. Shahvee will always be glad to have company."
Aryon seemed rather puzzled as she extended her hand but he recovered quickly enough, taking it in a brief greeting. "A pleasure. I'm Aryon, but maybe she told you that. I'm not sure what sorts of peculiar slanders my wife has been spreading about so let me know if she left anything good out."
Next to him Laje-tal only shook her head, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'm sure after these many years I have enough to slander you from here to Black Marsh, I certainly left a good bit of it out."
The conversations in the bar turned lighter, everyone relaxed and enjoying themselves. As the evening waned and night approached they finally left the bar, considering where to spend the night. Candlehearth Hall was the only inn in Windhelm, and it wasn't quiet about not being welcoming to their type. At a loss they decided to travel outside the city into Kynesgrove. Cold and windy as it was, the skies were clear, the constellations glowing with perfect clarity. It had a harsh beauty, one they had appreciated during even the coldest nights in Markath. A night like this brought back pleasant memories of taking that old, battered telescope up to the heights of the mountains, mapping out the constellations until they were nearly frozen.
"A fair night like this shouldn't be wasted," Aryon suddenly said, gesturing to the sky. "There, the serpent, chasing the other signs."
They watched and discussed the stars as they walked to Kynesgrove, not caring how slow their pace might be. Talk soon went to the mysteries of the Dwemer, as it often did, along with the three books she had found on her journey to kill Dagoth Ur. One book had been found to just be an ordinary guide but the other two had raised dozens of unanswered questions. She still had them, another of the few things she simply had to save, even if they weren't much use. When they reached the inn at Kynesgrove they hadn't made much progress on their many questions but that wasn't quite what they set out to accomplish. Instead they had fallen back into the familiar, the things they missed, the things that might never be known but were still enthralling. It was almost as if those years apart had dissolved into nothing.
Everything in the inn was much the same as the night before, the locals going about their talk and biding the last few moments until they slept. The innkeeper was glad to see Laje-tal again, especially after seeing that she had succeeded in her quest to find Aryon. She hadn't even flinched when they asked for a double room, simply getting them what they asked for. It was a great relief to rest, to really and truly recover from their ordeals. There hadn't been anything else to say, not after already saying so much, so they simply took advantage of as long a sleep as they could. They couldn't know what the morning would surprise them with.