THE FORMER THALMOR

Rimion

"This meeting is over."

Everyone stood up, though Rimion moved slower than anyone else. Farengar remained behind in his office while the others left it, again with Rimion lagging behind. He felt horrible for not revealing his past earlier, especially to Katjaa, who seemed to be more upset by the news than anyone else had been. It's not like I am a Thalmor now...

Arenar and Katjaa were walking side-by-side towards the doors, likely to go back to the festival. Rimion, however, just wanted to be alone. "I'm gonna hit the hay. See you in the morning."

Arenar looked over his shoulder and nodded, though when Katjaa turned around she instead looked at everything but Rimion.

Rimion sighed and proceeded towards the guest room the Jarl had given him. He half expected a dagger to be shoved into his back but one never came. He entered his room—which was conveniently located right across the hall from Katjaa's room—and started to disrobe himself. Underneath his highly-enchanted robes that he had inherited from the last Arch-Mage he wore only a linen shirt and pants. He stripped the shirt away too, and placed it and the robes on a nearby dresser.

The Altmer shuffled over to his king-sized bed and flopped on to it face-first. The soft pillows cushioned the impact but suffocated him a little bit so he flipped over and stared at the ceiling. Rimion traced the lines above him but was bored by it right away.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but just as he was starting to feel drowsy a loud knocking banged against his bedroom door. "Who's there?"

A muffled female voice responded from out in the hallway. "It's Lydia."

Rimion smiled, which surprised him a little bit. "Coming."

He walked over to the door and threw it open. The young Nordic woman was wearing a thin brown shirt and black pants with her hair tied back, revealing more of her beautiful face than during the dragon fight.

Noticing her attire made Rimion remember that he was only wearing pants. "I wasn't expecting a visitor," he used as an excuse.

"That's okay. Can I come in?"

Rimion stepped out of Lydia's way and waved her inside. She did so and leaned against the dresser where his robes were.

"So... not that I am complaining about a beautiful woman visiting me at night," Rimion said as he sat down on the edge of his bed, "but did you need anything?"

Lydia raised a brow at his 'beautiful woman' comment, but smiled all the same. "Just a couple things. First I wanted to thank you for healing me."

"Oh... well, I had to do that," Rimion teased. "Your father would have been mad at me if I didn't. Or he would have had Farengar do it, and he's better with the theory of magic than the magic itself."

"And I wanted to talk to you about the Thalmor."

Rimion's cheeky smile went away when she said that last word. "I should have said something before. Nothing like the threat of dragons to mention that I hail from a family of pompous elves that think they are better than the world."

"You're nothing like any Thalmor I've ever heard of," Lydia assured him. "None of them make bad jokes or help people with nothing to gain."

"I guess I must be somewhat like my father," Rimion said. "I don't make bad jokes either."

Lydia laughed, which made Rimion feel somewhat better. "Still," she began once the laughter stopped, "I think everyone feels the same way I do. Well, I doubt Kole actually cares. He doesn't seem too fond of you."

"I'm sure it's because he doesn't know me that well yet. Just wait, after however many days of traveling it takes to get to Ivarstead, he'll tolerate me." Rimion looked away from the Jarl's daughter when he said, "I think Katjaa doesn't feel the same way you do either. I already pissed her off within the first few hours I knew her, and now I did it again."

"She's probably more surprised about your past than mad about it," Lydia said, though her tone implied she didn't fully believe her own words.

Rimion shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, I'm going to head down to the barracks; check on Marko and the other injured guards." She started walking towards the open door.

"Wait," Rimion said just before she exited his room. She turned around to face him then he continued. "I just wanted to say thanks. For coming here and talking to me. I've always tried to avoid my past as it always makes me people see me differently. And you're one of the few people that continued to see me for who I really am."

Lydia looked at him in silence for a moment. "People often treat me as my father's daughter. Most of the guards resent me for my high status, thinking that I don't deserve it. I work hard to prove my worth, and still it's not enough. That's the main reason I wanted to become Katjaa's housecarl, because none of them seemed to care about who my father is. I want to help people, but it is difficult when everyone thinks they have to do things for me."

"Guess we're more like than one would think," Rimion pointed out.

"I suppose so. Good night." She turned around and left his room, shutting the door behind her.

Rimion stared at the door for a moment, hoping that Lydia would return to speak with him some more, but after a few minutes he gave up and returned his head to his pillow. As he shut his eyes again to fall asleep he started thinking more about his short amount of time as a Thalmor agent and how he ended up deserting the Aldmeri Dominion during the Battle of Leyawiin.

And the first time he met Arenar.

War.

Rimion was still not sure how he felt about the upcoming battle. He had guessed something major was going to happen, what with how many soldiers and weapons had been stockpiled onto several boats that were sailing from the Summerset Isles to the mainland of Tamriel, but was only recently given details about why they were sailing. The Aldmeri Dominion had began an invasion, one to secure its power and place across all of Tamriel.

They had entered the swampy country of Black Marsh after a month of sailing. This was only Rimion's second time outside of the Summerset Isles, the first being a trip to Elyswer for political reasons. As the ships docked and began unloading, Rimion tried to sneak his way off of the ship he was on without running into his father, but just as he was about to step off the ship, he accidentally bumped into Tarene. His father, Tarene Volanare, was 431-years-old, but his face was ageless like all the other elves on board. Rimion and his father looked alike for the most part, though Tarene was slightly more muscular than his son.

"Father," Rimion said as he respectfully—yet timidly—bowed. "Sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." Otherwise I would have avoided you.

"Son," Tarene responded along with a bow of his own. "You need not apologize."

"Oh?" Rimion was confused by this. At this point his father would usually be yelling at him for his mistake.

"I can understand your eagerness. I too am rather excited about the upcoming war," Tarene said with more enthusiasm in his voice than Rimion had ever heard in his life. "We will dominate the lesser races."

Rimion faked a smile. "I am glad to be a part of it, Father." Rimion had been made a Thalmor agent a few days before the ships arrived in Black Marsh. Along with the rank, he received a set of black robes and a Staff of Lightning Bolts.

Tarene's expression turned from one of eagerness to one of suspicion. "I'm happily surprised to hear that. Your treacherous mother must have failed to turn you against us after all."

Rimion gulped. His mother, Dileena, had been secretly teaching him about the other races and how everyone should work together to achieve harmony rather than the Aldmeri Dominion control everything through force. Then fifteen years earlier, Tarene discovered what had been going on and killed his mother. The rest of the Thalmor had congradulated Tarene for stopping her from "destroying us all from the inside." Rimion had to pretend that he had never believed in his mother's words, else his father would have killed him as well.

But it was all an act. "She was foolish to think that we are all equals," Rimion lied with gritted teeth. "This war will prove her wrong."

Tarene nodded approvingly. "The delegates should be entering the Imperial City sometime in the next few days. Once the humans refuse to the terms of their surrender, the heads of all the Blades from the Summerset Isles and Valenwood will be presented as an example of what will come. Then we will begin the attack on Leyawiin—a miserable little city just a few miles away from here."

Rimion's stomach felt a little queazy about the thought of a bunch of severed heads with shocked expressions on their faces. "But what if the Emperor does back down? Then we won't have to fight, right?" he asked while trying to hide his hope of not having to be involved in the battle.

His father laughed, which was a rare occurrence. "If there's one thing that can be said about the race of men, it is that they are predictable. We know that they will reject the proposal, and that's why we will deal the first blow before the Empire can."

"Great," Rimion said, trying to hide his sarcasm. "I can't wait."

The next few days came and went in almost a blink of an eye. Rimion spent most of his time going over the battle plans with his fellow Thalmor agents. The Thalmor would begin the assault on Leyawiin at first light four days after landing in Black Marsh. The main forces would focus on Castle Leyawiin to take out the Count while the remainders would attack the rest of the city, killing or capturing as many people as possible.

Rimion was one of the few agents not assigned to attack the castle. He wasn't sure how to take this, but he supposed it was due to him being a new agent. He would lead one of several groups in attacking the city's barracks in order to get rid of the threat of the guards.

What little time that wasn't used for battle preparation Rimion spent training with his cousin Ondolemar. The younger Altmer was one of the few mer that had the build of a strong warrior, and along with the vicious scar that stretched over his left eye made appear a difficult opponent. His magic was stronger than Rimion's but he had been denied a promotion to agent due to a scandal of him murdering a fellow Altmer. Had Ondolemar not been such an asset for the Thalmor with his powerful magic, he would have likely been put to death for the murder everyone knew he had commited.

"Good luck tomorrow," Rimion said to Ondolemar hours before the battle of Leyawiin would begin. His cousin was apart of a small strike team also composed of a Thalmor agent and a Bosmer that would move from building to building, putting down any resistance the locals would cause. Rimion didn't actually mean this, though he knew that killing humans would bring happiness to his cousin, despite how sick a thought it was.

"I need no luck," Ondolemar spat back at Rimion. "We are the superior race. Tomorrow's battle will prove this."

The early morning sky was still mostly dark when Rimion was woken up. He groaned, wishing for more sleep than to have to attack the city. But reluctantly he got dressed and joined the massive crowd of mer marching into Cyrodiil.

The sun was barely visible on the horizon when the army halted on the outskirts of Leyawiin. Smaller groups formed from the army, most moving towards the castle while Rimion's group and the others moved towards the city.

An arrow landed at Rimion's feet. He looked up to see that there were some city guards with bows pointed at his group. The others immediately fired Destruction spells at the guards, though Rimion missed them by a small margin as if it had just been an error.

A few fireballs later, all of the opposing guards were dead, but now more were appearing in the streets.

Rimion simply watched in horror as his fellow Thalmor massacred the guards. When he couldn't watch the carnage any longer and turned away from the fight, he noticed Ondolemar's splinter group enter a nearby inn called The Three Sisters' Inn.

More and more guards spilled out into the open. Rimion was surprised when he saw that not all of the guards were human. Some were Argonians, others were Khajiits. He even spotted a couple of Altmer using their own magic against the Thalmor. A few of the justiciars fell to the guards' own mages, but not enough to slow down the assault.

Rimion also began to see that none of the Thalmor were attempting to capture any prisoners. Some of the guards threw their weapons to the ground and fell to their knees, only to be struck down with lightning bolts or ice spikes.

As the Thalmor pushed deeper into the city, Rimion stayed behind, not wanting to be a part of the massacre. He heard someone breathing from the pile of human bodies; curiosity led him to discover who it was. After carefully moving some of the corpses he found an Imperial who had taken a Destruction spell to the chest and lived. He was wheezing in and out and clutching his burns.

Rimion couldn't stand to see the man in pain. Using his open hand, he conjured up a Restoration spell. The Restoration school wasn't his strongest one, but it would be enough to save the man's life.

The guard opened his eyes and saw Rimion for the first time. The look in his eyes suggested that he knew what was coming. "Go ahead," he said in a defeated voice. "Finish me off."

Rimion frowned. "What?"

"If you have any mercy, you'll end my life now. I'd rather not be tortured to death."

Rimion was appalled by the thought. "Why would I do that?"

The Imperial looked confused. "Why wouldn't you? You're a Thalmor."

"I'm different." Rimion crouched down and moved his hands over the guard's burns. At first the man flinched, likely unaware of what spell Rimion was using. Moments later the skin was mostly repaired, though the guard's expression revealed he was still in some amount of pain. "That's all I could do. Sorry."

Rimion stood up and began walking away to see if there were any other survivors that needed his help. "Sorry?" the man repeated. Rimion turned around to look at him. "You're sorry that you couldn't heal me further?"

Rimion nodded. "We aren't taught much Restoration magic where I come from. Otherwise I would have done a better job."

Still the man looked confused. "Why did you heal me?"

"You were hurt."

"I know that," the man said. "But... I didn't expect any mercy from a Thalmor, much less for one to help me."

Rimion shrugged. "A thank you would have been nice, but I didn't mind healing you." An explosion went of somewhere nearby, obviously the result of a nearby mage. "Do you have anywhere safe to go?"

The man's confusion continued. "Why?"

"The rest of the Thalmor might come back this way. If you're spotted, I doubt that they will heal what I couldn't."

"Good point." The man pushed his way onto his feet, but stumbled on his first step forward. Rimion rushed to his aid and allowed the man to lean on him for support. "I don't think I will make it very far."

"I'll help you," Rimion said. "Just point the way. I've never been here."

"We'll go to my home. It's just down the street." Rimion and the man started walking down the road at a slow pace. They walked in silence for a moment before the man said, "Cidius?"

"What?" Rimion asked.

"That's my name," the man clarified. "Cidius."

"I am Rimion."

"So Rimion... why are the Thalmor here?"

"This is the first step in a plan to expand the Dominion's power across all of Tamriel. I didn't want to be involved with it, but I didn't have much of a choice."

Cidius weakly laughed. "Had you not been here, I probably would have died without seeing my family one more time. You're nothing like any Thalmor I've ever heard of."

"Everyone I've ever met—all of them mer belonging to the Aldmeri Dominion—has such a hate for yours and the other races. I only hate those that have done me wrong," Rimion said.

Cidius pointed to a small building that had partially been destroyed at some point during the battle. "That's my home. I hope everyone is safe."

"As long as they've stayed inside, they should be," Rimion assured him. "Almost all of the Thalmor have been directed to attack either any forces in the barracks or at the castle. Only one group had been directed to enter any buildings, and last I saw they were heading the opposite direction."

"Thank the Divines," Cidius said under his breath. Once at the door he knocked rapidly but softly as not to attract the attention of any nearby Thalmor. "Ladia, it's me. Open the door."

After a series of clicks from inside the house, the door creaked open enough for a hazel eye to peak through the crack at Cidius and Rimion. "Why is there a Thalmor with you?" a female voice, presumably Ladia, asked.

"He's a good man... well, elf. I'd be dead if not for him," Cidius informed her. "Let us in."

The door flung open entirely. Rimion and Cidius quickly passed by the blonde and into what Rimion guessed was the kitchen. Two small children—a boy and a girl—were hiding under it while an older boy of about fifteen years that resembled Cidius stood in the corner with a sword in his hand.

Rimion gently placed Cidius in an empty chair. "Shut the door," Cidius said to his wife once he was seated.

Ladia did as directed, re-locking the door as well. She then quickly moved to her husband's side, giving Rimion a weary look as she passed by him. "What is happening out there?" she asked Cidius.

"A Thalmor invasion. Based on what Rimion"—he pointed at the High Elf when he said his name—"told me, this is the dawn of a war between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion."

Rimion nodded, confirming the Imperial's theory. "We should remain hidden in here. If there is a back exit—"

"We?!" the boy with a sword practically shouted. "You're a Thalmor; you're the enemy. There is no we."

"Leonde." The boy looked to Cidius when what Rimion assumed was his name left his father's lips. "He saved my life. Should the need to escape come, he will come with us. Should he want to."

Rimion didn't answer right away. In his 197 years he never had to make a choice, and now he was presented with such a life-altering one. Should I leave everything I've ever known, or give these people away? Rimion knew that his actions so far had been treason, and that if anyone—let alone his father—would discover what he did that he would be put to death. Unless he made up for the "mistake" and captured the family currently surrounding him.

He looked into the eyes of the boy hiding under the table. The fear of dying by Rimion's hand that filled the young one's eyes told Rimion what his choice would be.

"I'll go with you," Rimion said. "We should wait until the battle is over or someone else tries to get in before we attempt to flee. The Thalmor aren't taking prisoners."

He spent the next couple of hours helping Cidius's family pack up essentials like food, water, and clothing for when they would escape the city. Having nothing of his own to bring with him except for his staff, Rimion offered to carry anything when they would be leaving.

"That would be great," Cidius said, who was now supporting himself with a makeshift crutch. "I won't be able to do much carrying."

"Okay. Well then, I suppose we are just about—"

Rimion went silent when a loud pounding of someone's fist echoed throughout the house. "This is the Thalmor." Rimion cringed when he recognized the voice as Ondolemar's. "If there is anyone inside, lay down your weapons and give yourself up. We won't harm you."

"That's a lie," Rimion whispered. The door handle began to rotate, obviously showing that Ondolemar had no intent to wait. "We have to go. Now."

Cidius turned to his family, who was still packing bags. "Come on. Let's go. Leave the bags."

Just as everyone started walking towards the back door, a loud explosion went off behind them. Rimion looked at where the front door had been blown away to see Ondolemar and the Bosmer standing in the doorway, each one with surprised expressions. "Rimion?"

"Ondolemar," Rimion said in a tense tone.

"Where have you been?" his cousin asked. "Your father assumed you dead when we could not find you." Ondolemar's eyes narrowed as if just understanding what was going on. "Are you helping these humans?"

Against his better judgement, Rimion nodded. "These are good people. They don't deserve to die because they are different from us."

"Yes. They. Do." A ball of fire slowly formed in Ondolemar's hand as he continued to speak. "We can forget all about this... mistake of yours if you kill them now. No one will find out, as long as you do your duty as a Thalmor agent. Should you choose to let me down, however..." he trailed off as the fire spell continued to expand in size.

Without hesitation, Rimion let go of his staff and summoned a Paralysis in both hands. He aimed the Illusion spells at Ondolemar and the Bosmer, casting them before the mer could react.

Their bodies stiffened and collapsed to the floor immediately after the spells made contact. "It will only last for a few minutes," Rimion told the Imperial family. Let's go before more come for us."

All of them ran through the front door, though Leonde paused a moment to kick Ondolemar in the head. The buildings around them lay in ruins from the battle, and more bodies of the citizens of Leyawiin lay motionless than Rimion dared to count. At least there aren't any more Thalmor out here.

As if on cue, a group of five justiciars appeared around the corner at the opposite end of the street. One of them saw Rimion's group staring at them, who then directed the other four to see them as well.

"Stay behind me," Rimion said as he created the strongest ward he could. "I'll protect—"

From behind the justiciar that first noticed Rimion's group came an Imperial with dark brown hair and the most exquisite sword Rimion had ever seen. It glowed with the familiar color of a fire enchantment as it slid into the body of the justiciar. He screamed as the Imperial kicked him over and moved onto the rest.

"Leonde!"

The young boy raced past Rimion and neared the fight between the Imperial and the justiciars with the steel longsword in his hand held high above his head. Leonde pierced through the armor of one of the mer that had been watching the Imperial.

Rimion followed the boys example and closed in on the fight with another Paralysis in his hand. He threw it at a justiciar that had been inches away from slicing into Leonde's unprotected back. The justiciar grunted as he fell to the ground, but when Leonde turned around to see what had happened, he shoved his sword into the helmet of the paralyzed Altmer.

The Imperial whirled around, dodging a lightning bolt that had been casted by the justiciar closest to him. He advanced too quickly for the Altmer to try another attack and lopped off his adversary's head.

That left one mer remaining. The lonesome justiciar released his elven sword and fell down to his knees as the Imperial stalked over to him. "Please, show mercy."

The Imperial thrust his blade through the pleading mer's face so hard that his sword tore threw the back of the now dead justiciar. "To Oblivion with your mercy."

Rimion arrived at the scene a moment later. "Leonde, you shouldn't have joined in on the fight. You could have—"

Out of the corner of his eye, Rimion saw the Imperial swing his enchanted sword. He backed up just in time to avoid being cut into two, though not fast enough to avoid being grazed. The fire enchantment set his clothes ablaze, but Rimion put it out with a frost spell.

"What are you doing?!" Rimion cried out as he narrowly avoided another attack by the enraged Imperial. His light-blue eyes were filled with so much anger that Rimion was almost scared of what could have made him so angry.

"This!" the Imperial roared as he brought down his sword. Rimion had been trying to heal the fresh wound on his chest and failed to notice the next attack. He only had time to close his eyes to avoid watching his own demise.

The clash of metal against metal rang out in the street. Rimion opened his eyes and saw that Leonde had blocked the Imperial's sword with his own. "Wait!" the younger Imperial shouted.

The fire in the other Imperial's eyes died down slightly when he looked at Leonde. "Why?"

"He isn't a bad Thalmor!" Leonde said. Rimion couldn't help but think how ironic it was that Leonde was the one defending him as he heard the rest of the family getting closer.

"They are all bad!"

"No!" Leonde pointed to Cidius with his free hand. "He healed my father and saved us from two justiciars!"

Again the anger in the Imperial receded some as he spoke to Cidius, now standing by Rimion's side. "Is that true?" he asked. "Did this elf save you?"

Cidius nodded. "My family and I would be dead if he hadn't been there."

The Imperial sighed and lowered his sword. He looked at Rimion and said, "Sorry. I..."

"No apology necessary." Rimion offered the Imperial his hand. "Rimion Volanare."

"Arenar Krex," the Imperial said as he shook Rimion's hand.

Rimion turned to look at Cidius and his family. "Ondolemar will be up soon. We have to go now." He switched his attention back to Arenar. "You're welcome to join us, provided that you don't try to kill me anymore."

"Thanks," Arenar said. "We should escape into Black Marsh and head north from there. It might be treacherous for him though, what with being on a crutch."

"Anywhere is less treacherous than here," Cidius said.

"We'll have to be careful," Rimion told Arenar. "The Thalmor camp is located just across the border. I'll be able to direct us around it"

"Let's go then," Arenar said as he started up the street.

Rimion woke up to the sound of knocking on his door. I don't even remember falling asleep. There was no window in his room, so he had no idea what time it was. Considering how tired he still felt, he guessed it was early the next morning.

The knocking continued. Maybe it is Lydia again. "Coming," he moaned as he rubbed his eyes.

He hopped out of bed and walked over to the door. Rimion was shocked when he opened it and in front of him was Katjaa, wearing her leather armor and a pack on her shoulder. He couldn't read her expression, though it was obvious that their friendship was now strained by his Thalmor past.

"We are leaving in half an hour," she said in a tight voice. "Be at the gates by that time, or you're going to be left behind."

"Katjaa, I—"

She didn't wait for him to finish. The Breton turned and started walking down the hallway, disappearing around the corner before Rimion could put another word in.

Rimion sighed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to himself.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know Ondolemar's appearance in the story doesn't match his appearance in-game, but this minor change is helpful for his appearances in future chapters.