A/N: I'm so so sorry about this being late. FanFiction was having some sort of issue with the document manager and telling me the document I was trying to submit couldn't be converted or some such nonsense. Anyway thanks for reading, and your patience! :-D And enjoy!!
Bhaer could sense the unease in the palace before they even reached the doors. Len, meanwhile, was just immensely relieved to finally be home. He greeted the guards at the doors who were pleasantly surprised to see him and would have detained him with more questions had he not tactfully reminded them he had to report to the Emperor. It was then that Bhaer's suspicions were roused. The men reacted too somberly to so simple a request and they instantly stepped back, their faces becoming grave. The Altmer seemed not to notice or was just too distracted to do so and he entered the palace with the air that he belonged.
"The royal palace, Bhaer," Len said and his joy was a tangible thing, "Have you ever seen anything like it?"
The Nord shrugged his powerful shoulders as Sheil dogged his steps even more closely. He barely glanced around, not able to suppress the fear that they had come too late.
"Skyrim is no wasteland," He replied mildly, "But our palace is nothing like this."
Len nodded his head and motioned to one of the serving maids that was entering the gardens. She dropped a bow, her white blonde hair falling forward in her face. Knocking it back with one hand, the slender girl straightened and met Len's direct gaze.
"My lord?" She questioned in a soft voice that held just the barest trace of a Nordic accent.
"Is his Highness here?"
"Yes, my lord, he is in his library," She replied and sent a curious look across at Bhaer, "Shall I show you up?"
Len, eager to do things right, nodded his head. It was professionalism at all costs with him and Bhaer had to bite back a smile as they followed the maid up a few flights of stairs and down the hall. She knocked on the door with one slim hand and then stated the Elf's name to the guard that greeted them. He beckoned them and the girl disappeared.
Martin was sitting as his desk when the guard announced them. He frowned at the sound of Len's name and dropped the documents that he'd been trying with little success at reading. His thoughts were on Mia and Katryn jointly and this new distraction was very welcome.
"My lord," Len greeted, wincing as he bowed to the Emperor, "I bring news."
"By the gods, Kerlan," Martin muttered as he took in the Elf's appearance. Len had been with the family since Mia was 3 years old and though Martin had seen him run-down, hung-over and one very memorable night completely drunk, he had never seen quite this much damage, "What happened?"
Len shrugged his shoulders slightly and regretted it. His wince spoke volumes, he knew, and he was reaching the end of his strength reservoir. It had been a long, grueling trip and having broken ribs and jaw, cuts and bruises that were still tender and barely healing, a wrenched ankle and vision quite poor in one eye, he just wasn't up for much more.
"That is a long story, sire," He answered and glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that the princess wasn't in her usual chair by the window. Lessons would have long been completed and Mia had always retreated to her father's library when she finished, "But please, my lord, tell me the Princess is safe."
Bright blue eyes flickered before becoming dead once more as the Emperor stood from his desk and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing to the window where his daughter's perch was. He made a show of studying the view as he searched for the right words and tried desperately to keep his emotions under control. It was not easy. Lately the feeling that Mia needed him more than she ever had before had been consuming him; and it wasn't just because she was kidnapped. He knew that, beyond the obvious, she was hurt and that knowledge was crushing. Baurus' news about Bevlian's confession didn't help either and now his worry for Katryn was added to everything. Flaming eyes set in a heart shaped face and full lips curled into a gentle, rather enigmatic smile made his heart skip. Oh, Kat, if there was ever a time I needed you more!
"Sire?" Len's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Martin drew in a sharp breath and trailed the fingers of one hand along the back of his daughter's chair. Don't stop fighting, Mia! We're coming for you, love.
"I would give everything to tell you that she was, Len," He finally answered and straightened his shoulders as he turned back to the room in time to see the Elf's face fall, "She was taken 4 nights ago. Baurus went to the outpost responsible for sending us news of the threat on her life and we have taken the General Bevlian into custody. He in turn has told us that Deryl Lofolk, Morrowind's Nerevarine, is the one behind all of this. Currently, I have sent out soldiers to verify this."
"But that's a lie," Len exclaimed, weariness and pain forgotten as he realized how big a blunder this could be, "Lofolk is their key, yes, but he is not involved. Please, sire, don't do anything drastic. You will be playing into their hands and we can't allow that. Deryl Lofolk has to succeed; he may be the only thing keeping Princess Mia alive."
"Of course you had to choose Ald'ruhn," Deryl's sarcastic voice was just audible over the sound of the sand storm, "We could've gone to Vivec and dealt with the Hlaalu House. At least then we would have been close to the salt water."
Katryn rolled her eyes, pulling the scarf even closer to her head and shoving the door to the Under-Skar open before gratefully ducking out of the fierce winds. She unwound the scarves and tugged her clothing straight. Beside her, Deryl was rubbing at his eyes and knocking the sand from his hair.
"And then we only would've had to deal with rain and fog. I still don't-"
"Stop whining, Lofolk," She interrupted, "We are out of the weather now. And it made no sense to travel down to Vivec, jump to Tel Vos and then come back this way."
He had to give her that point and followed as she made her way across the swinging wood and rope bridge to the middle support of the Under-Skar. The bridges all converged to the center and then spread out to the perimeter, making it possible to reach the doors of the underground manors here. At the bottom of the structure, some 20 feet below them, were high end shops, selling fine clothing, jewelry, potions and herbs, weapons and books. There were pawn shops and smithies, inns and bars outside the Under-Skar, but those seemed to cater solely to the working class.
"Well, we could have gone to the rest of the tribes then," Deryl continued, knowing he was getting desperate and unable to help himself.
"Give up," The Elf didn't miss a beat, "Sul-Matuul and Nibani were right. They have to have a chance to explain to the other tribes why they are making this decision. The Four tribes function on a honor system of sorts and the Urshilaku will present their reasons for joining you and try to convince the others as well. That will take time."
"So, know-it-all, what happens now?" He retaliated and loved the sight of her grin.
"We talk with the members of House Redoran and try to convince them to proclaim you the Nerevar. Which will not be an easy task at this point. First we'll talk with Athyn Sarethi. He has been the unspoken leader of the Redoran House for the past few years and he will also be the most willing to listen. He should be able to instruct us further."
Deryl was looking at her with some awe now and he nearly ran into the support post of the next bridge. Ignoring the way she snorted a little, he fell in beside her and made sure he could brush her arm with his own which annoyed her instantly.
"I was joking with the 'know-it-all' thing, hero," He replied as they skirted a Telvanni guard and approached a beautifully carved wood door, "Do I want to know the reason why you have all this stored in your head?"
Katryn arched her brows slightly and shrugged. She knew he would love to know the reason behind this and she didn't think she'd mind all that much to tell him.
"I had a friend whose father was part of the Redoran. He was very instrumental in promoting Sarethi to the upper ranks. This has been several years ago but Sarethi will still be the wisest choice for us."
"Had a friend?" Deryl repeated, pouncing on the implication much like Katryn thought he would, "One you were involved with for about 3 ½ months?"
The Elf rolled her eyes and studied the pull rope hanging beside the door before giving it a quick tug. The echoing chimes could be heard, pealing faintly through the manor house. She glanced up at him and didn't like the expectant, rather triumphant look on his face.
"You already guessed he was from the Blade days, remember?" She answered, not liking even that small victory for him.
"But you never said one way or the other for sure. And now I know, thanks," He replied.
Katryn sent a look up at him and was interrupted when the door was pulled open. A young Dunmer boy bowed to them both.
"Is the Lord Sarethi available?" Katryn asked, pushing her irritation with Deryl away.
"Names, please," The boy replied formally as he admitted them to foyer.
Katryn hesitated before shooting Deryl a warning glance and answering,
"Tell him friends of Arlo Laner are here to see him. He will know what that means."
The young Dunmer bowed again and disappeared down a hallway only to return moments later to beckon them to follow. They started after him and true to form Deryl couldn't allow her to have the last word.
"So, someone from those days for sure," He said quietly, well aware the boy was listening, "And not Baurus Coll. I don't think it'd be your current Grandmaster either because... well, let's face it, he's a Khajiit and they hardly ever choose anyone outside their race."
"Don't be ridiculous," She answered easily. Waving one hand and almost blowing her farce, she continued, "Just because it is rare, doesn't mean it won't happen."
Deryl faltered, staring at her in open mouthed shock, rising to the bait. Katryn had no qualms leading him to believe it was Steffan she was in love with. At least then he might leave her alone about it for a while. The Elf had continued after the Dunmer boy who was turning a corner and approaching another door. Deryl was beside her again instantly.
"You're joking," He claimed, not sounding in the least like he believed his own words, "You seem to keep an open mind, but this? There's no way."
She smothered her grin and met his gaze with a shrug.
"The Nords may be prejudiced against Khajiits but that doesn't mean everyone else is. Open your own mind, Lofolk."
The Nord didn't have the chance to respond. The Dunmer was motioning them in and disappearing again. Athyn Sarethi was standing before an open fireplace, hands behind his back and shoulders slumped in such a way Katryn felt a prickling of unease creep through her. He was much like she remembered: tall, lithe and with exceptionally kind red eyes. There were new lines in his face that spoke of age and grief and the signs of exhaustion were evident even through the black skin.
"Friends of Arlo Laner are always welcome," He said and his deep voice was smooth and rather sad, "What can I do for you? Do you wish to join the Redoran House?"
There was something off about this whole stage and Katryn could tell even Deryl felt it. He didn't blurt out their names and his shock over the Steffan implications had gone. The Elf stepped forward and met Sarethi's gaze with a small smile.
"Do you remember me, my lord?" She asked, "It has been nearly 25 years since we last met."
Sarethi studied her intently for a moment and just as soon as he was going to shake his head, the red eyes widened with recognition. He smiled and though it was genuine, it still didn't reach his eyes. Stepping to her, he took her hand in his and pressed it.
"Katryn Gwynyth,"He said pleasantly, "You have become quite a legend, my girl."
"Not just me," She protested. She waved one hand at Deryl and added, "Deryl Lofolk, he's... Sir, he is the Nerevarine and we are in need of your counsel."
Sarethi started and fixed his gaze on Deryl with the same intensity he had shown Katryn. The scarlet eyes finally found the moon and star ring resting on the Nord's finger and he dropped Katryn's hand. Reaching out with his own, he questioned,
"May I see that?"
"Sir, we haven't been sure how safe it is for any but the Nerevar to handle it," Katryn cut in, "Even I have yet to touch it. If it helps, I was in the cavern with him when he found it."
"I need to see it," Sarethi insisted.
Deryl held up his hand and wiggled his fingers.
"You can see it just fine, old man," He answered in an understandably biting tone.
"Lofolk!" Katryn exclaimed and with an impatient sigh, she positioned herself beside the Nord, grabbed his hand and held it steady as Sarethi leaned closer to examine the ring.
Deryl didn't put up a fight, didn't even argue back. Instead his eyes, still that pale green, locked on Katryn's and he shifted his thumb just enough to rub it against the pulse in her wrist. She arched one brow and stalwartly didn't move, hating the fact that her heart leapt a little and he could feel it. He smirked but it wasn't his usual grin; his eyes were smouldering too much for that.
"Well, I'm honored to be in the Nerevarine's company," Sarethi said finally and Katryn immediately released him, trying to ignore how his fingers brushed her wrist rather intimately as he let his own hand fall, "Come, sit and I will try to help."
They seated themselves on furniture that reminded Katryn sharply of her seaside cottage and made her miss Cleo and Hecter and Immel's family. Over glasses of fine red wine, they jointly told Sarethi of Deryl's completed tasks. Katryn listened with rapt interest to his story of contracting corprus and felt her compassion pique at his fears of never being healed. She also told of her own task of trying to keep the princess safe and after half an hour if not more, Deryl sat back and met Sarethi's gaze.
"So now we've come to you," He said, "Katryn has already mentioned that the Urshilaku are going to talk to the other tribes. That meant we had the time to come here and try to gain the support of the Great Houses."
"And you came to me first?" Sarethi's brows arched and that same sadness Katryn had previously noted was back.
"I thought it the wisest choice," She cut in, the wine glass suspended between her slender fingers as though she forgot she held it, "Is there something wrong, sir? Should we have chosen differently?"
Sarethi smiled faintly, running the tip of one finger around the rim of his cup.
"I am not the head of the Redoran House," He replied rather apologetically, "That would be Bolvyn Venim and you will receive no help from him. Nor will he announce you Hortator. The kindhearted justice that won him his seat has long since faded. The Council has met several times, in secret, to discuss his termination, but nothing has been decided."
Katryn was frowning at him fully now, reading so much more of what he didn't say.
"Athyn, what is going on here?" She pressed, making him start with the use of his first name, "There is something you're not telling us."
The elder Dunmer tipped his head back and studied the ceiling and Katryn's unease deepened.
"It is no wonder Varvur and Kent couldn't keep secrets from you," He answered and his eyes met hers, "Bolvyn suspected what we were doing and in order to find out the truth, he made threats and issued beatings and... took Varvur. Last night Varvur and several of his friends had gone out. One of them returned in the wee hours of the morning with a split lip, broken nose and the message that Bolvyn was holding Varvur until I agree to confess what the Council had planned."
Katryn's indignant expression didn't last long and her eyes were flashing brilliantly. Setting her jaw in stubborn determination, she spoke at the same time Deryl did.
"Kent?" The Nord murmured for her ears only, one brow arched and eyes turning emerald as they danced.
"Being held?" Katryn repeated, ignoring him, "Have you spoken with any authorities?"
Sarethi gave a noncommittal grunt and waved one hand dismissively. His expression was angry but it wasn't directed at them. His emotions were roiling. He had been going from incensed anger to absolute despair for hours and now all he had room for was exhaustion.
"Things have changed since the days Arlo and I were plotting while the three of you terrorized the foreign delegates," He answered, placing the barely touched glass of wine on the table and getting to his feet to pace about the room, "All of the Under-Skar Telvanni are under Venim's thumb and even one peep from me would mean my own imprisonment or quite possibly Varvur's... death. No, I have not spoken of it, except to you."
Deryl glanced between the two Elves, only to see that both of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Katryn was obviously thinking of all the ways they could get this Varvur back, and probably land themselves in prison, and Sarethi was clearly through with thinking in general. The Nord's curiousity about what Kent and Varvur might mean to Katryn had to take a backseat and he found himself asking the necessary questions.
"So to gain the Hortator title-"
"Bolvyn won't give it to you," Sarethi interrupted, "He believes the prophecies but has always been one to cling to the theory that the Nerevarine would return as one of us. He has no love for the Nordic people and it is not worth the trouble to approach him."
"What do you propose we do then?" Deryl questioned, his voice impatient.
Sarethi's eyes were suddenly lit with a rather manic energy and he glanced between them. Katryn was still quiet but she was looking at him expectantly and he wondered what sort of impact his words were going to have on her.
"There is only one way to deal with Redoran nobles in times like this," He began slowly, "If you were to challenge Bolvyn to a dual under the guise that you are my champion, he will have no choice but to accept or look like a coward in front of everyone. They are called honor killings and since he is holding my son, I have reason to challenge him."
"Athyn, you can't expect-"
"Would the other nobles respect that? I mean, if I kill Venim and you support my Nerevarine claim, will the rest of the Council fall in with you?"
Deryl had spared a brief, calculating look at Katryn and she was well aware of the fear in her voice. Honestly, what did he expect?! He was being a fool and if he got himself killed... well she didn't want to think of what it might mean for Martin and his daughter.
"With the exception of maybe two or three, yes," Sarethi looked exhilarated for the first time since they had started speaking and this was the man Katryn remembered, "But they will not stand a chance with the rest of us. Like I said, we have been searching for a way to destroy him for months. But don't make a rash decision. Think on it first."
"No need," Deryl replied simply, not in the least perturbed by the fact that he might be hastening his own death. He felt the irritation pour from Katryn but kept his eyes on Sarethi, "Have your man send word and we'll get this over with. The sooner the better."
Sarethi was more than a little shocked by Deryl's instant capitulation and he studied the Nord briefly before glancing at Katryn. The Elf was annoyed and frustrated, the look on her face he had seen numerous times when Varvur and Kent had tried to cajole her into helping with their pranks. But behind that she was fearful for Deryl and made him wonder even more strongly what the young man might mean to her.
"Very well," He answered and gave another bell pull a quick tug. The door was opened and the same Dunmer boy entered the room, "Nelick will show you my collection of armor and weapons and give you a private room. If I know Bolvyn at all, he will accept immediately. Katryn, my dear, can I speak with you privately?"
Katryn, set on following Deryl and forcing him to reconsider, knew her expression was less than pleased as she nodded. Sarethi barely saw it. He seated himself at his desk and quickly wrote out a message. Sealing it with his ring and handing it to the young Dunmer, he added,
"Take this to Lord Venim directly. See that you are the one to place it in his hands and don't leave without his answer."
The boy bowed and waved Deryl to the door before leaving the other Elves alone. Katryn was fuming. One hand was pulling at a lock of hair she had jerked from the loose knot and her eyes were blazing. Sarethi sat beside her, once more taking her hand in his.
"Katryn," He began with such formality that she wondered if he would launch into one of his lectures, "It is better this way."
"Better for who?" She replied sharply, hardly realizing they had reverted seamlessly into Elvish, "You or the Council? We came for your help, sir, and-"
"Your Nord did not protest," Sarethi interrupted calmly. He studied her again, noting those slight lines that spoke more of stress and pain than age. She had always held a special place in his heart and he thought she had been the best thing for the wild and unpredictable Kent Laner. If things hadn't gone so awry, Kent and Katryn would have been a force to contend with in the Redoran House, "Why are you so adamant against his wish?"
Katryn wanted to pull loose from him, already disliking where this conversation was heading. Being here made her think of Kent and those times that had seemed simpler; of what he had meant to her and how things could have gone. And these memories weren't any better than those of Martin.
"He's not my Nord," She muttered finally, choosing the lesser of the two evils Sarethi presented.
"Ah, then you must excuse an old man's curiousity," He noted the softening of her expression as he said these words and was pleased this tactic had worked, "He looks at you rather possessively, you know."
Katryn was rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. She pulled her hand free and paced aimlessly around the room. She was well aware of what Sarethi was doing and she had to admit she didn't mind it much. Afterall, it was Deryl she was upset with.
"I know," She said and picked up a paper weight that had been painted to match the night sky, "He reminds me of Kent sometimes, though without those more redeeming qualities."
"Like I said, mere curiousity. I had heard rumors that you and the Emperor were... well, a match. And then seeing you here with the Nerevarine, I had to ask."
Katryn fumbled and the paper weight slipped from her hands. She reacted quickly and caught it again, her fingers pushed so hard against the surface they were practically white. Her eyes sought out Sarethi's and she was more than a little alarmed.
"Heard rumors?" She repeated faintly, her heart sinking just imagining the look on Deryl's face if he heard these as well, "Here?"
Sarethi was studying her again. Her cheeks were flushed pale blue and her normally fiery eyes were cloudy and upset. The last time he had seen her like this was when Kent... but now wasn't the time for that.
"So they weren't rumors?"
"Athyn, please," She implored, setting the paper weight down and returning to the couch, "Please, don't tell Deryl. Yes, Martin and I were a match. I still love him, but Deryl... I've been keeping this from him for my own reasons, and-"
"Katryn, calm down. I won't say a word," His hand found hers again, "You still love him? Even after all this time?"
The Elf stared down at where Sarethi's fingers were looping around hers and stayed silent for a moment. She realized quite suddenly that that was the first time in years she had said those words aloud and she was shocked at the peace that flooded through her. She felt... right, completely at ease; something that had been missing for the past 16 years and she made a resolution. Martin had always been the one to see through her defenses and he had done so once more, knowing without a doubt she still loved him. And so she was going to dwell on that, draw her strength from it as she had found herself doing in the past; and when she returned to the City, she didn't think if, she was going to make him hers again. Of course that meant taking the leap and possibly causing more pain, but she had to take the chance. Being enmeshed in his life seemed to be her curse and her mindset now was if he loved her and vice versa: why not try to make the most of it?
"Yes, very much."