Chapter Twenty-Two: Waking Up on the Wrong Side of Bed
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios except my OC's. No profit has been made. Copyright peeps please spare me.
As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome!
A/N: Back from the dead! Happy New Year everyone! All previous chapters have been revised, but no major plot changes. Mainly my OCD and some reorganizing to make some of the chapters less awkward.
22nd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 202, Morndas
After being politely 'asked' to return to the cabin while the crew worked, Evelyn commandeered a corner of the room - the one under her hammock. She sat for a moment, deep in thought, before bringing out her bag of trinkets.
Top priority is cleaning the remainder of the muddy ones. Then comes detailed sorting.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Estormo woke with a start, eyes wide open and breathing heavily. Slow breaths. Take stock of the situation, then make a plan. He stumbled to his feet and stared. All around him was wilderness - snow covering lightly wooded hills, dark clouds in the distance - a storm was coming. There was pine smoke on the wind.
"Are you feeling well, Larethorin?"
He froze. I know that voice.
He turned around to see a small campfire. A very familiar campfire.
Figures were sitting around it, warming their hands and looking at him strangely. In dark robes and golden feathered armor. And right in front of him was a mer in the robes of a Justiciar. Quarrennen. He looked around. There was Kaladil, and there Ragnaril, and Faemon was eating his daily apple-
Was it all a dream? ...Could it have been a vision?
"Agent Larethorin?" Quarennen was speaking more sharply than before - he was concerned.
He sounds so real. Like he was never...
Ondolemar's voice filtered through his thoughts. Deal with the problem in front of you before trying to figure out the 'why' of the problem. Knowing why a bear is charging at you isn't nearly as important as getting out of the way.
He cleared his throat. "I'm not entirely sure. I-" He frowned. "I am confused."
But the vision seemed real as well.
"Did something happen?"
He clenched his fists - he could feel the pain. This is real - but what about the vision?
"Not yet."
I saw what will - what could - happen today.
He remembered this day - the storm coming in would restrict visibility, and they would be ambushed by nords before the day was done. Then, all but me and Kaladil will- He shook his head and moved to the fellow Justiciar. "What did you say to me when we were assigned to Skyrim?"
A pause, and another concerned look. "I congratulated you. Nothing more, nothing less."
Estormo exhaled in relief.
The best way to find a liar is to fake attachment, and watch as their desperation drives them to concoct fanciful stories.
He's not lying, so neither shall I.
"I believe that I might have had a vision last night." It seemed so real. Traveling with College mages, arriving at Dawnstar...
The ambush.
If the dream was truly a vision, then I need to prevent the ambush.
"Like the visions the master wizards in Alinor received prior to the return of Masser and Secunda?"
Quarrennen was staring intently now, and a few others near the campfire were listening in with various levels of subtlety.
"Possibly. It covered the next few weeks, but the deciding event was to happen today." He tilted his head toward the thickening cloud cover. "There was-" not past tense. "There will be - an ambush by nords in the middle of that storm."
A hand on his shoulder. "Tell me."
They hiked through the deep snow in silence, tensely readying their spells, and making sure that their potions were accessible.
Who was killed first? He needed to know, so they could be ready for the ambush. Estormo rifled through his memories. Kaladil was shot first, but he survived the ambush. One of the guards - Faemon or Ragnaril, got shot afterward. Then Koren. I think. I don't know exactly when they died. But you already told them that. That won't help.
He winced. Yes, he had already informed them of all he could remember. But what if it isn't enough? What did he need to do to save the others? What was he forgetting in his memories of the ambush? Was there anything he hadn't done yet that could help?
A whistle pierced through the air and his eyes widened. Everyone around him brought up their mage armor and cast wards. The guards retreated behind the mages and pulled out their bows.
But nothing happened.
Then the whistle sounded again.
And again.
And still, nothing.
He was losing his patience waiting for the inevitable. The rest of the group looked mildly amused at his paranoia, but Quarrennen made sure that they kept their weapons at the ready. He knew that there was going to be an ambush. But what if my preparations made them cancel it?
He shook his head. Wishful thinking. They are probably waiting for the best time to strike.
He wasn't sure what to believe, but the voice at the back of his mind was saying that he had to stop the ambush. Or ambush the ambushers.
Yes. That was a good idea.
He was walking over to Quarrennen with his idea when they were all engulfed in chaos.
Arrows from all directions. Just like he remembered.
He saw one of the guards struggling and moved forward with a ward to hopefully block the arrows he knew were coming.
His feet felt as if they were being dragged backward with every step he took. In the end, he was too slow. The guard went down under a hail of arrows. Just like the last time.
But he couldn't see any of the melee fighters from his vision. Where are they?
Behind you.
Alarmed, he turned to see Quarrenen facing three nords alone. One of them raised his axe.
No. Not again.
Lightning coated his hands as he brought up a lightning-bolt spell. He wasn't going to make it in time - but he needed to make it on time.
Barely a second passed before he released the spell, and the nord fell to the side, axe falling uselessly to the ground.
But then one of the other two nords ran his sword through Quarrennen's chest and left Estormo staring blankly at where his friend had stood. No one else was standing - he had failed.
Estormo knew what happened after that, but still gasped when he felt the arrow hit him in the side.
He was grabbed from behind, and then something was being poured down his throat.
He knew no more after that.
Good.
In his dreams, Estormo saw Kaladil materialize, sprinting for an outcropping as a slim face appeared over the edge. He was bleeding heavily but still readying a spell. The scene drifted back into nothingness before he could see the result.
Hands. Grabbing him from all sides. He couldn't move.
And they wouldn't let him go.
He needed to get out - get some air. Escape.
If he could get his hands free, then he could cast spells - paralysis would work. It would get his captor off of him. He just needed to wait. Stop struggling, and wait for his captor to let their guard down. Go limp. Wait...
The grip loosened slightly. A moment longer...
Now.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Evelyn froze, hand hovering over the pile of dirty trinkets.
I could have sworn I just heard a crash from the next room over.
She didn't get up from her seat, by now a nest surrounded by knick-knacks and tiny piles of dried mud, but did allow herself to scoot closer.
She placed her ear on the wall, leaning against it.
Nothing.
Wait. I can hear something -
There was a soft hum, familiar thanks to Colette's lessons. Evelyn frowned.
Why is someone using a ward in there?
She stood and creeped her way out into the narrow hallway, turning toward the next door down. I'm not going to open the door, of course - The saying 'curiosity killed the cat' hasn't stuck around as long as it has by being inaccurate.
Evelyn kept her movements as quiet as possible. An easy task with all of the boat's creaking in the background.
I just want to know what is going on. Sergius hasn't come out in a while.
She paused for a moment. There isn't any screaming or yelling, at least.
Evelyn was only a foot away from the doorway, leaning forward to listen, when the ship hit a rough wave. Her eyes widened as it pitched her forward.
Fudge.
Her face smashed into the door with a -rather loud- thump.
Ow. Ow. Nose, please don't be broken. Please don't be broken.
Hissing unintelligibly, she leaned back against the wall behind her - and then promptly fell backward through that door.
Her flailing didn't help at all and she was very quickly laying flat on the floor, rocking side-to-side with the waves.
She glared at the ceiling.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Cowards, the whole lot of them!"
"Are you sure that it was the College mages?"
"I'm sure. That little milk-drinker was acting far too calm. I should have known that she'd plan something like this."
"And if it wasn't them?"
"Then who cares? Either they did, and they're refusing to face us like real fighters, or they didn't, and they're running away."
The woman huffed to herself, glaring into the east. Where the faint outline of a sail was visible on the horizon.
She spat. "Filthy milk-drinking cowards."
xXxXxXxXxXx
Still lying on her back, Evelyn sighed in relief when her healing spell finally worked, opening her eyes once the glow died down.
When can I get off this floating death trap?
She shook her head and moved toward the offending door. Even now, no one had come out. She needed to know why.
What could she say? Curiosity may kill cats, but everyone knows they've got eight lives to spare anyway?
Make that six lives left for me. Between escaping the vampires, finding the thalmor, and this boat, I've lost at least three already.
She put her ear to the door. Very carefully, of course.
Nothing... Wait - it sounds like... Dragging?
"Sergius? Everything okay in there?" She knocked on the door. It was quiet in the room. Another knock. "Hello?" She shuffled in place, realigning her clothes and brushing off the salt and dirt that she received from the fall.
Her hand hovered over the doorknob. Wouldn't it be hilarious if the room is empty and I'm freaking out for nothing?
There was still no sound from the room. Where's a ten-foot pole when you need it? This whole situation is giving me the creeps.
Her hand came down, and she gently turned the knob, inching the door open by a millimeter before -carefully- turning the knob back the way it was. Then she grabbed her dull dagger and poked the door.
"I'm serious, if there is an axe-murderer or something in there - I'd like to avoid getting attacked, please." Another poke. "And dying. I'd like to keep breathing."
- Still no response. She poked a little harder. Then a garbled shout.
"Girl, keep the door closed! He's still in here!"
There was an almighty crash and the door slammed back into place, wood only an inch from her face.
She blinked.
Then shook her head and stepped back, eyes narrowing. What on Earth is going on in there!? Why couldn't he say that before?!
You know, when I was practically yelling into the room? And who's in there?! The thalmor? A teleporting pirate?!
A high-pitched hum filled the air - louder than the ward I heard earlier.
The door clicked - locked shut - before something slid into her foot.
A key.
Hopping aside, she pocketed the key and backed away from the door. She lost her balance once, but managed to position herself behind the open door to the next room over.
There was a long period of silence where all she did was hold on to the door frame and try to avoid getting too nauseous.
Someone banged on the door.
"The key, please?" It was Sergius. A very angry Sergius if the venom underneath those words was to be believed.
Evelyn shuffled over and slid the key back under the door. She backed away quickly and waited, morbidly curious as to what exactly happened in the room.
She wasn't expecting Sergius to walk out with half his face blue, though, followed by a very disheveled mer. The altmer looked her way briefly before pushing past, making a beeline for the deck.
Sergius stewed, glaring after him until he was out of sight.
She looked between Sergius and the ladder. She closed her mouth.
"We will never speak of this again." With that, he stalked back into the room. The lock clicked into place.
She nodded and drifted back to her room, trying to figure out what just happened.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Chuckles swallowed the tiny room.
"And then... Oh, you should have seen their faces! Made up for losing out on a new friend! They were a perfect example of calm and dignity!" Bent over with laughter, he stopped to tap his head in thought. "Ooh, or was it strength and cunning? A demonstration of martial prowess! No... Grace and beauty? Hmm.. Or blood?" He turned solemnly to the bosmer next to him. "What are people looking for in other people these days?"
The bosmer stared blankly ahead, mumbling.
"Wait! Don't answer that! It might take all day, and I don't have all day!"
He paused.
"Or do I? I make my own rules of course. Or at least the other mes did and now I have to follow them..."
More mumbling from the side.
"Of course! You're brilliant! I'll just change my mind from the decisions I made before I was born! That'll do it!"
He patted the mer on the back.
"Thank you, as always, for your wonderful advice! But I must be going now - need to change my mind!"
And with a sweep of the man's cape, the elf was left alone in the room, mumbling to himself as he stared at the blue-tiled roof across the way.
"Seven-hundred and eighty-three, seven-hundred and eighty-four, seven-hundred and eighty-five - the boat. The boat and the people - seven-hundred and eighty-six - here, or there? Where? He thinks here - seven-hundred and..."
And inside the closed desk under the window, a quill scribbled on thin parchment.
23rd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 202, Tirdas
Floors, in Evelyn's humble opinion, were supposed to stay still. None of this tilting, creaking, and dropping business.
Seasickness was something that she would wish on no one.
It was only the second day of sailing and she already wanted off the floating disaster that was the Sea Squall.
But the worst part was that she had no one to blame but herself. She really should have known better. If riding in a carriage gets you seasick, then there's no way that an actual boat could be any better.
The Sea Squall listed to the right and she felt her stomach come up.
Calmy - very calmly - she set down the soul-gem shard she had been cleaning and rose on shaky feet. One step out the door got her to the ladder, and by the time the boat was swaying to the left she was opening the hatch. A quick climb and a shuffle to the side brought her to her least favorite part of the boat. And just on time, too.
She hated being seasick.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"How often does she do that?"
"Oh, I think yesterday's count was twelve. We've got a betting pool running on whether it'll be more or less today."
"Which do you think?"
"More. Definitely more. Today we're passing around Grogner's Peninsula - where the ol' Brinehammer ran aground. The waters around there aren't known for being gentle."
"Anyone betting against?"
"Nystrunn and Ravam."
The younger man grinned. "Then I'll throw my lot in with you."
xXxXxXxXxXx
Evelyn sat in silent misery, going over her latest important decision.
She would never get on another seagoing vessel again.
When they headed back to Winterhold, there would be no sailing. None. If Sergius wanted to sail, then so be it. He could sail.
But she would walk.
Or even hire a carriage if she was in a rush - either option was better than the nightmare that she was dealing with on this ship. If possible, I would like to be dropped off immediately. Surely there is another port within a few hours of sailing. It doesn't matter how small the port is, I can get there in a rowboat if necessary, or swim-
"Captain! There's something out there!"
Startled, she squinted into the waves. Can't see anything. Whatever it is must not be on my side of the ship, then.
I'll see what it is when we pass it or whatever, I'm not moving just for an unusual piece of seaweed.
"Someone's out there in a rowboat!"
A rowboat? If they don't want it, then I'll gladly take it off their hands! She held her stomach as the ship rolled on the waves. Once we see land, of course. She reviewed her increased odds at an early departure before pausing.
Wait a second - they found a person out here? How are they still alive?
Evelyn watched with growing curiosity as a man was dragged on board. A thick-bearded imperial, dripping wet, was not a common sight in sub-zero water. He gratefully accepted a sailor's blanket, and wrapped himself up tightly, shivering all the while. She leaned closer.
"All I want is to find my wife and inform her that I am alive and well - she has probably worried herself to sickness by now." Wayfinder pulled him past her, leading the man over to hatch to below-deck. Wayfinder said something to the man. He shuddered and stopped nearby - close enough for Evelyn to overhear the conversation. "My last ship - she was taken by pirates - fearsome seadogs. I managed to steal a rowboat in the confusion and cast off with some supplies before they sighted me." Mumbling.
The man shook his head. "My apologies - I haven't the slightest idea of where they are sailing. I was far too occupied with evading capture."
Wayfinder nodded and opened the hatch, smile pasted on. "That's fine, I'll just set my men on double watch. If any pirates come, the Sea Squall can outrun them."
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Wayfinder is a fool. Any pirate worth his salt'll have a ship fast enough to outrun us. And double shift just means that twice as many sailors will be tired if it ever comes to a fight!"
Another sailor piped up from the side. "And how are we supposed to outrun the pirates if he insists on risking the sails to this weather?!"
"If those go down, then we're dead meat – no matter if there are pirates nearby or not!"
"I've heard that he's wasting our supplies on the customers – complete land-lubbers, all of them!"
Shouts of approval quieted down as the dunmer stepped up.
"We need to make sure that his oversights don't get us killed."
"Yes! I agree!"
"Me too!"
"So, until further notice, why don't we run the young Captain's orders by me first. We can ignore the orders that hurt more than they help, and little Wayfinder will be none the wiser, happy that the Sea Squall is functioning properly."
The sailors below him nodded vigorously.
"Until then, why don't we all get back to work."
"Yessir!" A younger man – he couldn't remember his name – saluted before he left.
The dunmer grinned to himself as the group split.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Perfect.