25.
"The Quality of Mercy Is Not Strained"
Two days. No time to take her anywhere…no time to try anything else. Still, he stubbornly refused to give up. He had wandered aimlessly with her on horseback, clutching her to him, stopping only when he couldn't see in front of him anymore, then making camp. Now, he sat staring at the fire, wracking his brain for ideas…where could he take her in this condition with time running out? She was so far gone. And it was his fault, he thought, running his hands through his hair in anguish. He had left her with a monster. He could have objected…he had the influence then. He should have looked into the man's past himself. He could have persuaded the Council to pick a more suitable husband…a man who would take care of her, who would love her as he did. Torin could not keep the tears from rising. He could not lose her. But what could he do? Where could he go that she would survive long enough to find an answer?
Alessia moaned, wresting him from his self-indictment. "Torin…" she called.
He was at her side in an instant, taking her hand, gazing into her eyes, stroking her hair tenderly. "I am here, my love, I am here," he whispered smiling at her, his eyes shining.
She returned his smile, but hers was considerably weaker. She saw the stars above her and the warmth of the fire next to her. It was as it used to be when they had travelled together, and she took great comfort in that. "I…knew you could…free me…" she struggled.
Her eyes gazed at him with such love and pride. And he was ashamed…wracked with guilt for her dilemma. He shook his head. "I shouldn't have left you. I could have stopped him…I could have prevented this. If I had been here, I would have seen…I…" he lamented.
"No…none of this…your fault. We…thought…I was sick, until…he admitted truth…had to gloat," Alessia managed. She ran her tongue across her dry lips. Torin sprang to his canteen and gently lifted her head, putting the container to her lips. She hesitated instinctively, her mind racing back involuntarily to Vaelor's attempts to force the poison down her throat. Her eyes locked with Torin's. The brilliant blue eyes she loved so well were so full of love…compassion…fear. She smiled slightly and parted her lips to accept the water he offered her. She nodded when she had taken her fill. "Please…do not…blame yourself…" she said, her voice growing weaker.
Torin cast healing spells on her to strengthen her.
"I know you had to leave…just as…I did what I had to do. It was…not what I wanted…" she said earnestly. "I have always loved you, my Grayrider," she whispered. She felt herself leaving him then, and struggled to stay, but the poison had taken a great toll on her body. "Fare well, my heart…" she said and pressed his lips.
Torin felt the strength of her kiss fade with her and she slipped away into a coma. He started as she fell away from him, her limp form still in his arms. No. Nooo. Noooo! He reached for her pulse. It was weak and thready, but she yet lived. He clutched her to him, his grief overwhelming him.
An hour later, dawn broke. He still held Alessia in his arms numbly staring off into the distance, remembering her. He had not slept. Slowly, with the sun's light clarifying his vision, his eyes focused on a white dome and pillars just over the rise. It was small, not an Ayleid ruin or fort. It had to be a wayshrine of the Gods. He tried to think where he was. He estimated he was not too far south of Weynon Priory. Dibella! The Goddess of Beauty and Love! By the Nine! It was a sign! There was none more beautiful than his Alessia, and his love for her was without equal. The Gods had led him to Dibella's wayshrine surely!
Desperate and distraught, Torin lifted Alessia's sagging form into his arms and ran to the sacred structure, laying his beloved down beside the Altar. Then he fell to his knees and spread his arms in supplication. "Great Dibella! Goddess of rarified Beauty! Goddess of never-ending, perfect Love! Hear me, I beseech you! Spare my Empress...most exquisite of mortals, most beloved of women! Show her mercy. She is good and kind, courageous and honorable, a great and benevolent leader respectful to the Gods. And…I love her beyond reason. I have done all that I can to bring her back, but vicious corruption and betrayal have won out. Only divine intervention is left to me. I have no great offering to submit to you that is worthy of the gift I seek. There is but one thing I have to give that might be considered of equal value, though I would not begin to call it so. I can only pray you will find it acceptable. I offer you my life in exchange for hers. Bring back my love. Take my breath and fill her lungs with it that she may live a long and fruitful life. And I will die happy that I could return to the world that which I love most in it," he begged.
A blinding light appeared over the Altar. Torin shielded his eyes. Slowly, the light faded and where the light had been, the Goddess Dibella hovered now. "Your tongue is eloquent for a warrior, mortal. I have heard your pleas and I am moved," she said in a soft, sensuous ethereal voice.
"It is my love for her which gives my prose form…that gives voice to the right words. It is she that inspires my heart," Torin answered humbly, bowing his head.
"It is so. I have seen it," Dibella acknowledged, "Your love for each other is pure and strong and burns with the heat of a thousand dragonfires. But I cannot accept your offer to sacrifice yourself for her. You are what is right with a world gone mad. You are what Tamriel needs, a just and righteous Champion…"
Torin's eyes filled with tears. "But I am nothing without her. I…do not wish to live in a world she does not share…" he lamented.
"Such selfless, noble love is rare and wondrous indeed, and a gift for my eyes to behold. It is true I have guided you here as you have guessed, Champion. For this mortal Empress has always honored us and her heart is untainted. She has sacrificed the thing she loved to uphold the covenant with Akatosh. It is decided she will not leave the mortal plane as yet. This cruel, treacherous death we will not accept. We give her back her life, but not at the expense of yours. We will restore her body. It is for you to restore her soul," the goddess proclaimed, turning her attention to the prostrate Empress.
"Come back, child, return to the land of the living. Awaken in the arms of the man who treasures you above all else," Dibella commanded gently.
Alessia stirred in his arms. Her haggard, gaunt face softened and filled out. The rings under her eyes faded. Her respiration evened. She gasped suddenly as though new life had been breathed into her, her eyes fluttering open to see Torin's worried face hovering over hers solicitously.
Torin smiled emotionally, his eyes shining as he gazed into hers. He laughed…a sobbing release of fear and anxiety, of overwhelming relief.
She smiled back, not fully understanding the meaning of it.
Torin pulled Alessia gently to her feet, then looked at Dibella, bowing his head in gratitude, "I am forever grateful. The Nine Divines will always be honored in the house of Grayrider and the Empire of Cyrodiil, and the name Dibella will always hold a special place in our hearts" he whispered.
Alessia turned to face the voice that had pulled her from her dreamless sleep, the one Torin addressed now. She was astonished to find a goddess before her…Dibella! She looked back at Torin questioningly, as though to confirm she had just witnessed a deity and not a delusional dream or poisonous hallucination.
Torin nodded in understanding of her confusion.
Dibella continued, "This Champion has purchased your life with his faithfulness and loyalty. Rise, young Empress, and go together to meet your destiny. It will take you both to reclaim the throne of Tamriel. Indeed, much will be demanded of you in the times to come. Always have the Daedra been rivals with the Aedra, yet we had thought after Akatosh exiled Dagon back to his Deadlands, they would settle for a time, at least. But Dagon's folly has stirred discontent and the Daedra grow bold of late. Know that Boethiah is not the only restless denizen of Oblivion. Trouble brews, and we fear their mischief is not done. You are formidable, each unto yourselves, but never forget that your greatest strength is the bond between you. Hearken back to my words when you have doubts. For this is the truth of your love…you are destined for greatness together. In the difficult times ahead…in the times of uncertainty…be grateful for one another, and never allow the world and its troubles to come between you," the goddess advised cryptically.
Alessia nodded to Dibella resolutely.
Torin looked at Alessia in bewilderment.
She smiled at him. "I will explain later," she told him. She had chosen not to burden her love with the guilt of knowing her attempted murder was the result of Boethiah's vendetta against him. She had not wanted to lay that at his feet for the rest of his life, though she had wondered if it would not be part of the Daedric Prince's vengeance to see him suffer with the knowledge. Alessia suspected that after her death, Vaelor would have made sure Torin knew the cause of it. She shuddered to think of his pain from such a revelation. Now it would become a part of the past they put behind them once they took care of the treacherous snake that was her husband.
Dibella turned her attention to Torin, "And you, Grayrider…Hero and Champion of Cyrodiil…the eyes of the Nine have taken notice. We have witnessed your deeds, great and small. The Gods have also perceived your regret…your sorrow, and we will not see you suffer any longer for past mistakes. Your penance is at an end. Lay down the Razor."
"What? I…cannot. If…if someone finds it…they will be corrupted…" he protested, glancing at Alessia.
"Its darkness has weighed heavily on you these many years. The part you played in releasing it has troubled you greatly. This we have seen. But since that time, you have been the guardian of its evil, containing it, protecting the world from it. You have saved this mortal realm from Dagon's cruel plan. It is time to lay down your burden. It is time to be forgiven. Release your guilt. Leave Mehrune's Razor with us. We will destroy it as we should have done long ago," Dibella said.
Torin pulled out the dagger, his folly of so many years ago and looked at it with hatred…with sorrow. He felt Alessia slip her hand into his and he looked at her emotionally. He saw her eyes filled with tears of compassion.
She had grieved for him, for the one great wrong he had done that he could not pardon himself for, that tore at the fabric of his soul. Alessia nodded encouragingly toward the altar. "You have paid long enough, my love. It is time to let go. It is time to forgive yourself," she said gently.
Torin turned toward the altar and laid the Razor on it and stepped away, pulling Alessia with him. The dagger glowed bright red for a moment and then disintegrated, the dust blowing away in the gentle breeze.
Alessia squeezed his hand.
Dibella spoke once more, "Rejoice in the gift that has been bestowed on you. Cleave to each other. Respect each other. Love one another. In this last request, you will honor me, for it is the passion you hold for each other that sings most loudly to my soul. As we have heard your song, we have shown you mercy. Do not let that which we have given be torn asunder. Fare thee well, mortals. The blessings of the Nine are upon you." With that, Dibella slowly faded from sight.
They both stared for a moment after she had gone, still too awed to speak. Then they gazed at each other and the full impact of what had just happened struck them. They grinned at each other in astonishment and fell into each other's arms.
They knew Vaelor would be searching for them. He could not afford to let Torin go free with what he knew. Vaelor could not know, of course, that the Empress had recovered…that her life had been given back to her because of Torin's tireless efforts and endless devotion. Alessia smiled and hugged him to her as she rode behind him.
At first, he had taken her back to Gottlesfont Priory. Alessia had wanted to offer her thanks to the Sisters and assure them that Torin had spoken the truth. They were overjoyed to see their Empress alive and promised to help her regain the throne and put an end to Vaelor's wicked plan however they could. Torin offered his gratitude, telling them he would gladly accept their assistance. For now, he had to get Alessia into hiding, to give her time to recover her strength fully and plan their next move. And so they headed north.
They reached Frostcrag Spire at last, safe in the knowledge that no one knew of the existence of the Wizard's Tower, much less its whereabouts, save Aurelinwae, and Alessia was certain the tight-lipped dark elf would say nothing. Torin would have preferred to take her to Battlehorn where it was more comfortable and well-appointed, but circumstances dictated their refuge be hidden from prying eyes until they were prepared to act. Vaelor must not find them before they were ready.
Alessia was improving every day, her body getting stronger, her anger growing at her husband…the poisoner…the vile worshipper of Daedric evil, Boethiah. Torin had asked her repeatedly about Dibella's cryptic Boethiah remarks and she had put him off. She had tried to find the words to explain Vaelor's plot and where it had originated, but every time she started to tell him, she stopped. He would be devastated…he would blame himself. And Alessia could not bear that. But he had to be told, for Vaelor would surely reveal it when they confronted him. "Torin…" she started, running her finger softly…familiarly…along the scar on his jaw. Alessia smiled. "I've missed this…" she said.
Torin returned her smile, his eyes burning into hers. "It has missed you, too," he replied teasingly.
Gods, she didn't want to tell him this. Alessia took a deep breath and plunged into it. "There was another behind Vaelor's plotting…" she said.
Torin started. Another?! Who would…who could manipulate things so…and who would want to?!
"Torin…it was Boethiah…" she started gingerly.
Boethiah had set this Breton on Alessia?! With intent to murder her?! But…why?!
"He was angry…bitter that you had abandoned his Tournament, that you destroyed his precious weapon. He…sought vengeance through your feelings for me…" she continued haltingly, a pained expression on her face.
He recoiled, shaking his head. "I did this to you?! By the Nine!"
"No! Torin, Boethiah did this…Vaelor did this! You did what you had to to stop Dagon…you entered the Tournament and gave Martin the artifact you won. That is all. You chose the least heinous of the tasks asked of you by the Daedric Princes. Don't you see? Every step of the way you have shown heroism, honor, and courage. It is Boethiah's petty ego and Vaelor's cruel ambition that are to blame. They chose this course of action. It is not your fault!" she insisted, taking his hands in hers.
He struggled with her words, trying to grasp the enormity of the conspiracy.
Alessia lifted his chin to look in her eyes. "If it were me, Torin? Would you lay blame at my feet for their scheme?"
His brow furrowed. She had reached him then. He nodded his acceptance of her logic. Then he pulled her to him and whispered, "I am sorry you were dragged into Boethiah's twisted plot for revenge. But we will make his agent pay the greatest price for his monstrous part in it, I swear it," Torin vowed. And Boethiah will know my anger, he thought to himself.