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Chapter 7: The Demon and the Devil

Namira never materialized in the room to Var's eye, and he did not hear her voice again. The aged figure of Potema began speaking in a tongue Var did not understand and could not even begin to recognize. She paused at times, and seemed to be responding back to someone. The dark presence had not left the chamber, so Var assumed Namira must be speaking to Potema telepathically. He wondered if his conversations with Namira also only occurred mentally. He would have to ask her later.

Var remained silent and after some time Potema's gaze fell directly on him. Keeping her eyes on him, she uttered what sounded like a question to Namira, then nodded slowly. The air in the tomb lightened as the fell presence dissipated, and Potema began using common speech again.

"Well, my lord, I have just been briefed by the Lady and will now depart from the city. I will marshal what forces I can in the west and fortify as many forts as possible I know there are many necromancers that will join us and I have high hopes for the forsworn and the vampires as well. "

Var's mouth fell open slightly as he struggled to understand what was just said. Did she actually call him "lord"? She seemed to expect some sort of response, so he hurriedly formulated what seemed like an appropriate answer.

"Umm, well, good. Did... the Lady say anything else?"

Potema seemed a little surprised at that, and gave him a suspicious glare. "I am not her Champion, you are. She did not say anything else to me, beyond the terms of my and her arrangement. Did you have any more orders for me before I depart? It is probably best neither of us to linger here, they are sure to send down exorcists eventually."

Var now realized that he was of a more elevated status than Potema. He, a lowly Nord man, was superior to one of the most powerful Necromancers in history. A mixture of pride and anxiety washed over him, but there was little he could do about it now. All he could do was follow his orders and do his best to accomplish what goals Namira gave him.

"No, I do not have any more orders for you... you are dismissed."

Potema bowed her head slightly, and then disappeared in a flash of violet lightning.

Var was unsure of what to do next. Should he wait in the crypt for Namira to speak again? Or venture out the way he had come and leave the city? The ring encouraged him to depart, so he reluctantly did so. He was concerned about having to explain himself to the local authorities if they had been alerted of his journey into the catacombs.

The Draugr had all returned to being lifeless corpses and the ominous energy was no longer in the air, so the trek out was less tiresome than the one in. Before long, he emerged from the tomb and found a number of guards waiting for him on the other side of the Hall's door, along with a rather well dressed Nord man.

A number of the guards drew their bows and aimed them at Var. The others unsheathed their swords and assumed defensive positions around the lone unarmed figured in the center. The Nord appeared to be of some sort of nobility, but was otherwise common in appearance. He looked at Var somewhat fearfully, but maintained an authoritative posture.

The man began speaking to Var, being careful to remain behind the defensive line of guards.

"We were just about to come in after you, stranger. You know, lying to a representative of justice in Solitude is a crime and so is entering the city while we are in a state of emergency. Do you have anything to say for yourself before you are placed under arrest?"

"I took care of the problem in the Hall"

A look of surprise flashed across the man's face, before he regained his composure.

"Well now, is that so? How did you manage that one?"

Var thought about lying, but the ring discouraged that. Better to just be vague.

"My methods are my own, but the Wolf Queen will not be bothering you anymore."

"Hmm, a cryptic answer. But, it is true that no more Draugr have come up from the catacombs. Pardon my lack of introductions. I am Falk Firebeard, steward to Jarl Elisif. Who are you, stranger? Are you some sort of sorcerer?"

It seemed wise to just agree, but the ring was adamantly against that. "No, I am a... priest."

Falk seemed skeptical. "A priest? What sort of priest?"

"I serve one of the Deadra, Lady Namira."

At that the steward gasped and looked at Var with both revulsion and fear. "What?! Daedra? I... umm... what business do you have in Solitude? Daedra worship is not tolerated in Haffingar, outsider. We do not want the kind of help you offer."

"I was going to take my leave anyway."

"By Oblivion you are. You are herby under arrest, for lying to a public official, entering the city under false pretenses, desecration of the dead, and blasphemy."

Immediately the guards moved in on Var. They confiscated his dagger and bound his hands. He was then lead out of the Temple and towards the Castle Dour. It was well into the night and no townsfolk were about to interfere or gawk. As they neared the doors to the fortress, Var heard someone calling out behind him. The man appeared to be fairly young, and wore court colors.

"Lord Firebeard! Lord Firebeard", the young man spoke with urgency. His bug eyed expression revealed his youth.

Falk frowned at the boy, irritation clear in his tone. "What is it? Can't you see I'm escorting a prisoner?"

"It's from the Jarl herself, sir." The boy handed a slip of paper to the steward.

Falk scanned the document and scowled before shoving it into his front pocket.

"Men, escort the captive to the Blue Palace."

Var was not sure what to think. He had little experience with court matters. Was it unusual for the Jarl to summon a criminal to the Palace? Was he to be interrogated? Was she going to pass judgment on him herself? Var could not even begin to know. They walked briskly to Palace and Var was hurried into the throne chamber. It was a relatively simple room, though lavishly decorated and with impeccable stonework. The guard threw him down on his knees before who he assumed was the Jarl.

She was beautiful. She possessed the fairest of Nord features and had striking grey blue eyes. The flush of youth was on her face, though she appeared careworn. Her garb was simple and elegant. Most surprisingly to Var was the look she gave him, she appeared worried.

Her voice was as lovely as her appearance. "Why is he bound? I told you to collect him, Falk, not arrest him. Guards, cut him loose. I will not have the savior of Solitude chained like a horse thief."

The guards quickly obeyed, one moved behind Var and sliced the rope holding his arms with a dagger. Var rose to his feet, the stone floor was uncomfortable to kneel on and his arms needed to be stretched. The Jarl's actions shocked him. He thought it best to reciprocate her kindness.

Respectfully, Var addressed Elisif, "Thank you, lady."

"Oh, I think it is I who should be thanking you. Is what my guards say true? Did you really do away with that specter in the Hall of the Dead?"

Var nodded.

Elisif smiled at him. "Oh, thank you so very much. I did not even begin to know what to do about it, the few guards we sent in never came out and more and more draugr were attacking the city."

Var thought it strange that the Legion had not acted. Was not General Tullius himself stationed in the city? "My lady, couldn't you have turned to the Imperial forces for aid?"

The Jarl frowned and looked nervous. "It... it is best not to alarm the Empire rashly."

Var decided to drop the issue; she seemed not to want to discuss it. "Well, I was happy to deal with it for you, my lady."

She smiled again. "We, I, am in your debt... um, what is your name?"

"Var."

"Yes, Var. The city of Solitude owes you a great deal. I would like to offer you what hospitality I am able. You will stay at the palace tonight."

Falk interrupted. "But, Jarl Elisif, he is a daedric priest. You know the la -"

Elisif glared at her steward and did not hesitate to interrupt him. "Do I need to remind you that I am the Jarl of Haafingar, Falk? My word is the law. Now, it is getting late. Have our guest escorted to one of the rooms in my wing; I'll not have the Thalmor or our Imperial guests stealing him away in the night."

With that, the Jarl stood and left the throne room. Begrudgingly, the steward led Var to one of the guest suites of the palace, glancing fearfully at him all the while. The room was more lavish than anything Var had ever experienced before. It was late; he washed up, ate a light dinner, and put his robes back spider silk stayed remarkably clean. He heard a light rapping on the lone door to his chamber.

Cautiously, Var opened the door. Jarl Elisif stood before him. She no longer wore her regal court garb and was dressed in a simple yet conservative blue night gown.

She smiled softly at him, but looked somewhat fearful. "Can I come in? I wanted to speak with you, but could not in front of Falk or the guards."

Var nodded and ushered her inside. He was not sure what to think and a number of feelings muddled his mind. He wondered what she, a Jarl, could possibly want with him. And, though he tried to suppress it, lust grew in his heart. Even in her modest gown she was stunning. However, what he was most concerned with was what Namira wanted him to do here. Did she intend for him to talk to Elisif or was this some sort of accident? The ring did not seem to prefer any course of action over another, so he decided to just be cautious.

A small dining table with two chairs was present in the room. Elisif sat at one and Var joined her at the other. Her eyes held a mixture of worry and hope as she spoke to him.

"I just cannot thank you enough for what you did today. No matter who you are, you did save the city. If it had gone on for much longer, General Tullius would have found out. There is not a doubt in my mind that he would have used Potema as an excuse to declare martial law. I had a hard enough time maintaining my rule with the famine ... Is... is it true what Falk said though, are you a daedra worshiper?"

"Yes, I am. I'm something of a priest to the Lady Namira."

"Namira... isn't she the Matron of Beggars?"

Var nodded. "Among other things."

"I imagine it must be hard, to practice a religion most others scorn... I do know how that feels."

Var shrugged. "I have my God, and she watches over me, that is enough."

Elisif looked at him with a sort of reverence. "I can respect that. The bans on Talos worship have made me question everything. I sometimes do not even know how I live with myself allowing the Imperials to occupy our city and the elves to persecute my people. Still, if I did not give in they would just slaughter and enslave us. But, is living in oppression any better than death? I just do now know anymore... and more than anything, I wonder, why does Talos not answer our prayers? I cannot tell you how many nights I've spent knelt with my amulet, and still no answer. "

Var felt a tinge of pity for the woman, not because of her suffering but because she was so blind. Why did she keep praying to a god that never answered back? And besides that, did she not see how futile her prayers were? The ring warmed on his finger and malice filled his mind. Someone needed to open her eyes.

"You know, if it was not the Imperials and Thalmor it would be something else. There is always something threatening us, some doom around the corner."

She seemed surprised and hurt by that response. "Wh... what?"

"Think about it. If the Empire did not occupy your land and the Aldmeri Dominion was not a threat, would you be safe? Would upstarts like Ulfric still not want to seize your power? Would famines and plagues not come? Would darker forces than the elves seek dominance?"

"I... I just want what is best for my people."

"Why?"

"Um... I just do. I am their Jarl, it is my respon-"

Var chuckled at her then. How could she not see how pointless it was?

Elisif seemed to be close to tears then, and spoke while trying to hold them back.

" My country is my life, I want them to succeed and prosper. What is so wrong with that? Why do you laugh at me?"

"What's wrong is that it will never happen. No matter how large your kingdom grows, it will eventually fall. No matter how happy your people are, eventually their joy will fade. No matter how notable your rule is, the memory of it will eventually diminish and disappear."

The Jarl grew silent and her face became pale. A look of horror flashed on her features. Var contemplated her. Her mental state was not all that good to begin with, the death of her husband and the threats to her kingdom grated on her mind. Someone telling her all her efforts were for naught was the final nail in the coffin. She had given into despair.

Var grinned cruelly at Elisif. The ring was pleasantly warm on his finger and a feeling of vitality pulsed through his body. The woman before him was ensnared in web of darkness and misery. All he needed to do was deliver the final blow.

Author's Note

Wow, thanks to everyone who reviewed! As always, I would love more. I'm really curious to see what you guys think of this chapter, as it is a bit of a departure from the previous ones. "bob" commented that Var has very little dialogue so I decided to give him a bit more in this chapter. Him not speaking much was intentional, as the focus of the story is really on Namira. I see this story as being an exploration of how her realm and religion work, as told from the perspective of one of her worshipers. And, obviously he does not speak much when she is around, as she can pretty much tell what he is thinking without him saying it.

Thanks for reading,

Serpentine Razors