GalacticHalfling: Ancestors should be worshipped, not heard en masse. And since the breakthrough in Appocrypha, the Felix ancestors have been tripping into Moonshadow quite a bit. I don't think their "partying" is on the level of Disney Mulan's ancestors. Yeah, cartoony. ** Ghosts gathering at any Door is usually not a good sign (for the living anyway).
A/N: Inconsistency clear-up. Faro commands the 3rd Legion at Elsewyr. On reviewing past writings I see I keep mixing up the 2nd with the 3rd. (Not that I've ever seen any canon references of which Legion Tullius commands.)
Disclaimer: What's Bethesda's is theirs, etc. Stories might not be in chronological order.
DOOMSDAY, Pt.2
Startups are often a trial of scraping together one's resources along with numerous planning of scenarios. In the case of public office, the idea was not sink one's personal fortune into the job as one would with a private business. And so Revyn was meeting with Jorlief about initial funds for the new office of steward of the Gray Quarter.
One problem was that the Jarl had so off-handedly designated his home shop as a public office. Alright, he could afford that. Security cases that once held expensive stock could be modified to hold public records and cash boxes. The front counter and room could be converted to a public area where clerks would take names and complaints and and shop floor space could be sectioned for work areas.
Then there was the matter of staff. Right now he had volunteers willing to help define civic projects and willing to help with initial office setup. But he needed paid staff.
The initial authorized budget of 5000 wasn't even a joke. That wouldn't cover even half of shop conversion costs. Costs Revyn was expected to eat if he wanted monies for hiring, training, and keeping staff. One of the liabilities of being rich when marched at swordpoint into office.
Jorlief was apologetic but the Jarl refused to consider more until Revyn could present him with definitive plans for projects and a marked increase in tax revenues for the next tax cycle. As for staff, a guard officer would be assigned specifically to the Gray Quarter and clerk from Jorlief's staff would be reassigned to help train new clerks to Windhelm's government system. Revyn was expected to find the clerk suitable living quarters
The second business was clearing reconstruction plans for Calixto's Museum to turn it into a larger shop for Revyn's commercial business. A cellar and an open upper level was needed. The building was built against the east wall of the city and any changes had to be constructed with defense in mind. The cellar was also a bigger undertaking because it was bedrock in that area of the city whereas most the Gray Quarter had been built of loose rubble leftover from the original construction of the city and landfill to build up and level the city from the docks.
Revyn cut off the discussion when he saw Jarl Ulfric and Stone-Fist leave the war room. He moved to intercept.
"My Jarl, a moment, please. I wish to speak to you about a guest my wife brought in five days ago."
"Go on."
"Thank you, my Jarl. I am informing you that my wife was escorting her father, Antony Felix, retired Legate of the Third Legion, to Solitude when you ordered her to investigate Korvanjund. The party camped in the Rift and waited until she could return. However, her father's health has taken a turn for the worst and she brought him here so that he may die in comfort."
"We should take him for questioning," said Stone-Fist.
Revyn frowned at him. "Not advisable to move him, sir. My wife, her brother, and their cousins will object. I object. However, if you wish to come to my home and ask your questions under the eyes of his children, you are welcome. Indeed, my father-in-law is expecting your questions."
+—+—+—+—+
"I've talked with our local priestess of Arkay and she's willing to participate. I've also checked with the construction crew at Refugee's Rest; they'll push up the work schedule," Revyn informed Antony Felix. "I do hope this works."
"Trust me, we've been doing this a long time. Bait and switch — it isn't just a merchant's game. Just as the emperor has a body double cousin to attend to the tedious public appearances and official parties and social dinners, we've found it expedient to create a body double for my dear wife. Once we found a womer with the wit and voice and mimicry skills, who was willing to let a face sculptor alter her features, she's been our secret weapon that lets Innana roam about to take care of sensitive matters.
"We activated her as we left on this trip so for all this time everyone has seen Innana at her post, parading with troops and doing routine inspections. And people know me. I wander off on a whim all the time. So my latest trip ends up being my last. I hadn't planned to die up here, but, eh, whatever. It doesn't change the basic plan. The shadow is prepared to play the grieving widow."
"Silly of him to travel about at his age, but my husband usually had good reasons for wandering away. At least this time he was well attended by his son, our cousins, and his personal physician," murmured General Faro, delivering in flat tones a pre-scripted speech. She was reclined in the bed with Antony cradled in her arms. "His itinerary was no secret. The sudden downturn in his health..." Her voice broke and she turned her face to nuzzle her husband's hair.
Taliesin started speaking. "I found Galathil in Riften's sewers still hiding out from the Thalmor. She was able to use the plaster cast we made of your face, mother, to craft masks for both you and Helsette. She was the apprentice of Tuirdalin," he explained to Revyn, "the sculptor who did our shadow's face."
"Can we trust this face sculptor?" asked Revyn. "Why is she hiding from the Thalmor? And why a mask for you, Sera Innana?"
"We can trust her," said Taliesin, confidently. "We've paid her enough to leave Skyrim and set up shop somewhere else. And she knows if she betrays us I will find her and kill her. As for the Thalmor, they've developed this thing about purity and suddenly anyone altering their appearance to match the Thalmor ideals of perfection is guilty of perversion, of diluting the purity by masking the imperfect, and sculptors are seen as accomplices to this. Plus, she's helped the wrong people escape Thalmor justice by making them unrecognizable. And as for a mask for mother, you got away with a brief appearance in court among Nords. But, really, anyone who knows Helsette will be able to see differences in bone structure. Mother has classically sharp features while Helsette's are noticeably softer. The masks, along with strong illusion spells I'll lay on them, will do the trick for the time we need them. Rather like the fabled Cowl of Nocturnal, but only good for about two uses. I'm not a daedra to make it a permanent mask effect."
Revyn nodded, accepting Taliesin's confidence. The ease this family practiced deception intimidated him and the level they played it on was one he never aspired to.
"And so the Dragonborn and Helsette will confront each other during the funeral of Antony Felix in Windhelm instead of the social party originally planned in Solitude. The Dragonborn unmasked and showing she is an Imperial; the illegitimate child of Antony." Revyn repeated the plan.
"I spent a long time in recovery after fighting General Naarifin. Years of intense healer sessions and barrels of potions. Helga Ansdotter was among the Winterhold healers who attended me. She had an affair with one of my married Legion officers. He killed her to prevent his wife's family from finding out. But I found out and I had him tried and executed for murder of course.
"For this story, she had a child before her murder. I'll let you fill in where she was raised and by whom. As far as I know, Helga's family was scattered during the Great Collapse in Winterhold. I don't know if there are any remnants left there or who may remember her. The core is that the child knew I was the father, I was already married, and that it was moment of weakness on both our parts. Her motives for using my name I'll leave to Helsette to improvise."
"Damn." Revyn rubbed his face, feeling tired and worried. Antony had unshakeable confidence in his daughter's ability to improvise her role under such pressure. Yes, Helsette excelled at performing under pressure, but hers was the ability to improvise physical combat against dragons, hordes of undead, robbers, assassins and the like. She froze, her brilliance hiding like a frightened rabbit when thrown into unknown social conditions.
She fretted over conversations and social cues. Some part of her wits seemed to shut down unless talking combat and weapons or concentrating on music. Among strangers the part of her mind that analyzed motives, tactics, situational cues — that seemed to vanish. She felt no emotions, failed to recognize expressions until much later, often when it was too late to respond appropriately. It made her seem uncaring and flippant. And she knew it and didn't like it. The anonymity her Dragonmask or her full-face helmet was a barrier that kept most of her wits from escaping and it was a crutch she leaned heavily on. Revyn recalled so many hours of listening to her travel stories and then re-roleplaying social scenarios until she was comfortable without that giveaway shield. It was usually then that he was all too aware of her age and awkward, still developing areas of emotional maturity. Antony had told him during one of their evening talks that Taliesin had matured at the usual pace for a mer child, not really developing as an adult until his 30s. Helsette, right off, seemed to develop at human speed, which was why they weren't frantic with worry when she took off from home at 16. All indications was that she was one of those hybrids who looked mer but lived only so long as humans.
He excused himself, offering to prepare a late-night snack tray. He was surprised when Cadence insisted on assisting him.
"You're worried about Helsette's role in this," she stated. "I know Uncle Antony and Taliesin believe her capable of acting her part. All reports for Tullius and Taliesin's own estimation seems to say so. Father and son think alike, act alike, have worked long together. Helsette seems to have taken after her father and they assume to know her mental and emotional capabilities. But as her husband, what do you say?"
He hadn't much interaction with the cousins Horace and Cadence. They seemed happy to fade into the background, letting the more forceful Antony and Taliesin hold stage. They normally handled the family vineyards and wine production as he understood it from Taliesin. But they'd insisted on coming on this journey playing as bodyguards, not that they didn't know how to use weapons. They'd both fought in the Great War as scouts at the Valenwood border against Altmer-led Bosmeri troops.
And then he remembered that that half of the family specialized as spies while running the wine business.
And when he'd chatted with them about why they'd brought those great, hairy dogs to Skyrim he learned that during the war she and Horace trained and ran war dogs. Against Bosmer. An accomplishment that, if one truly thought about it, was mind boggling.
"It's going to fall apart if Helsette doesn't get here soon," he confessed. "As I've told Antony this before, this is a good plan and I can't think of anything better, but this can't be a last minute improvisation for her. My Helsette can't act at this level to save her life. She needs time to rehearse this. Rehearse. And it might give her time to act out any crippling grief before the final performance."
"I see. That fits to what I've heard of Innana in her much younger years from Grandfather Hilarius who knew her when they were both children. Uncle Antony married the older, mature, more confident version so he's never seen the socially awkward girl who hid her weakness with military protocols. Following the Concordat Aunt Innana was too busy settling the borders at Elsewyr to give much time to Helsette. Uncle Antony, too, was preoccupied. He spent more time with the healers than was public knowledge. When he was in public, or with his children, he put on a facade of energy and cheer. He missed then that his little girl needed more than happy words.
"Revyn, I'm going to give you a hug," she stated, giving him a moment for a quick breath of astonishment, a chance to escape, and then embraced him tightly. "Horace and I will go to meet her. We'll prepare her for this role while you handle things from here. You'll need to prepare Aunt Innana for her part, too. If there's a chance the dragon is going to roar, she needs to know how to react as Helsette Faro Sadri would react."
+—+—+—+—+
It was a surprise when the Jarl, Jorlief, and Galmar came to visit. Innana was absent; called out on an emergency was the excuse. But there was Taliesin, Little Nicky, and Hadrien keeping grim watch in the background. After plotting all night, no breakfast, and medicines taken on an empty stomach, Antony looked haggard, weary, and sunken-eyed. The upper levels were pleasantly warm — for Dunmer — while descending into the cellar was like abruptly dropping into a Cyrodiil summer. The three Nords immediately started sweating and removing their summerweight fur mantles.
Revyn left the Jarl and Galmar to talk to Antony. He went upstairs and Jorlief gratefully followed him. He showed Jorlief about the emptied rooms and discussed the planned setup, how Revyn planned to split his time between the steward's post and his own business. Jorlief gave him more information on who was who in Windhelm's overall government and tips on dealing with specific people and families.
"How much longer do you think he'll last?" asked Jorlief when the subject inevitably came back to Felix.
"We don't belief he'll make it beyond the next two weeks. The blond Imperial you saw is his personal physician, a master of the Restoration school. He spends hours every day doing everything he can to keep Antony pain free and lucid. As I understand it, Antony has unpredictable health issues that have gotten worse as he's aged. He tells me it's from something he caught when he did a tour in Black Marsh. He thought he'd recovered, but Hadrien says it's one of those illnesses that only go into hiding and then re-emerges when the host is weakened either by another severe illness or the natural decline of age.
"He really shouldn't have tried to travel, but since my wife was too busy to return to Cheydinhal to visit, he was determined to see her before he died. If they had sent a letter asking her to return because of his health, of course she would have gone. But Taliesin said it's a family trait to push things beyond reason, and so it's no surprise that if their father got it into his head he was going to make his last adventure a tour of Skyrim, then that's what he was going to do."
"I see where your lady gets her adventuring ways from," said Jorlief with a smile and sympathetic chuckle. "Still, what a loss for your family. Will you be leaving for Cyrodiil to return the body?"
"No. He has requested a Dunmer funeral. We burn our dead. Refugees Rest, why we've been rebuilding there, his will be the first cremation."
"An Imperial."
"Helsette's father. Anyone objecting can argue with her and with me. It's our money that has been primarily funding the rebuilding. Priestess Helgird has agreed to preside since he is a worshipper of the Divines. She also has a professional interest in our ceremonies for the dead."
"Private or public ceremony?"
"In this case it will be public. For the Gray Quarter it will also mark the return of Refugee's Rest as a place for our people. A final sanctuary as it were."
"Your first civic project then, and one you won't have to justify to me anymore for any future funding. I know it's been a long, sore point with your people that they haven't been allowed any space in our cemetaries after the first few decades."
"Yes. It's a start. One I pray isn't doomed to fail as this civil war plays out."
