2E 584

They were staring at her again.

Ellyria heaved a heavy sigh, continuing to pen her letter with the fancy quill in her hand. There was apparently no end to the oddness of her life. Though the benefit of rarely being surprised was nice, the rest of it was absolute insanity. In the beginning, she thought being sucked onto another continent by a man experimenting with portals was the craziest thing she would experience. She was incredibly wrong. That was relatively normal in comparison to being acknowledged as the Dragonborn by the Greybeards because of an accident in an ancient Nord crypt, becoming the champion for the Daedric prince Nocturnal, being slaughtered as a sacrifice to Molag Bal, and then kicking said Molag Bal's ass back to Oblivion as the Vestige. Now, as if that wasn't enough, two children were staring at her from the doorway to her office. Not just any children, though. No, they were her children, and they were much older than when she had last seen them, before being drop kicked through a portal to Tamriel.

"What are you doing?" one of them finally asked.

"Writing a letter," she responded dryly. "Would you like to read it as well as watch me write it?"

There was no response. She didn't need to glance up to see they were still there, still staring. A sigh slipped through her lips, but she didn't say anything to them. She'd thought this staring business would be done after the first few days. Finally, Ellyria signed her name at the bottom and blew gently on the parchment to dry the letters. Folded, sealed, enveloped, and sealed again, and then it was ready to be sent off with her private courier. That was new, too. After sleeping outside in the dirt with a trading caravan for several months before she was noticed by the man that brought her to Nirn, she had never imagined being wealthy enough to have her own personal, private courier, or a housekeeper in her beautiful Elven townhouse, or even the townhouse itself.

"Is there something either of you need?" Ellyria finally asked. She took a few steps toward them, wondering if they would move or make her move them. Her internal question was answered when both scrambled to either side of the doorway.

"We're just – we're just looking at you, I guess. You don't look like we thought you would."

A smile tugged at the edge of Ellyria's mouth. "I guess you thought I'd look older by now, right?"

There were some shrugs, but her daughter, Sarelia, nodded. It was odd-looking into the spitting image of herself as a sixteen-year-old, not that she appeared too many years older as a forty-year-old. Time had clearly passed for her children and not for her. Though this was disconcerting, it didn't matter much to Ellyria. The soul of the dragon would stop her aging indefinitely, according to the Graybeards, and she would live on until killed. Eternal youth would have its perks one day, she guessed.

"Come, it's nearing time for the tailor to arrive." Ellyria beckoned them over her shoulder as she continued up the stairs. "Has your grandmother come in from the terrace yet?"

"No – she still won't really talk to anyone," Adrian admitted, following closely. At only fourteen, he barely had any memory of his mother from twelve years before, though he was clearly the one that was the most excited to be with her again.

At first, Ellyria had briefly entertained the thought of sending them home. The thoughts were dashed as soon as they came into her mind. They would never be able to live normal lives again, knowing that magic existed and not knowing how the others on Aldmeris would react to their sudden disappearance and return. The humans from the mer-abandoned city were not keen on any magic or gods or general fuckery. Her housekeeper approached from the door to the terrace with a furrow in her brow.

"Lady Ellyria, I am unable to access the terrace again. What would you have me do about the vegetation?" Navarre asked. The older woman was flustered, though Ellyria couldn't imagine why.

"It's not a big deal, Navarre. I'm sure the plants won't die after only two days of neglect."

Ellyria could feel Navarre's annoyance. She heard it a few moments later. Her cheeky housekeeper was always quick to take her down a few notches.

"That sort of dismissal is why all of your vegetation was dead before I arrived."

Rolling her eyes, Ellyria stopped short of the stairway leading into her loft bedroom. She felt she was proficient enough in necromancy to bring back a few plants, though Navarre clearly didn't agree. Her fingers flicked toward the door with a little flourish and a dash of gold sparks. The door gently popped open to reveal the terrace and her mother sitting at the edge of a planter box.

"Water your plants, and please, give this to Tomen when you happen to go downstairs. And help them ready for the tailor if you don't mind." Ellyria continued up the stairs one sealed envelope lighter and without two teens on her heels. As an after-thought, she called over her shoulder, "And if Abnur Tharn shows his face, tell him to fuck off."

A few hours later found the tailor leaving with measurements for Sarelia, Adrian, and Evelyn, and instructions to make all manner of clothing options for them. Now dressed in her own set of leather armor, Ellyria tied the tops of her boots into place just beneath her knees. It fit well but left much to be desired when compared to the lightweight armor from other parts of the world. The chain mail sewn into the leather jingled ever so slightly when all was silent, and the buckles were placed in odd places. Her sword clanked against a buckle at her waist as she moved down the stairs. Ellyria rolled her eyes but didn't bother to try to fix it. New armor would head her way soon enough with the envelope in her courier's capable hands.

"Where are you going?" Adrian asked as soon as her boots left the bottom step. "Can I come with you?"

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Adrian shifted on his feet uncertainly. Lanky and lean, he was more like a clumsy noodle rather than a warrior. It would be a very bad idea for him to go with her, especially with the idiotic situations she tended to barge into headfirst.

"I'm going to meet an awful man about an awful weapon. I don't think it would be wise for you to come with me." Ellyria snatched a dagger from her waist and pressed it into his hand. "Ask Navarre for lessons, and when you can use it properly, I'll let you come. Sarelia, too, if she wants."

"Wow! This is so cool!"

Her smile lingered for the short walk to Queen Ayrenn's stables. Another perk she never imagined having, Ellyria found herself glad for friends in high places. Without them, she would still be bundled in traditional Khajiiti robes, caravanning around Tamriel. She would have been no less happy with that life, though, she admitted to herself silently. Sapphire stood at the ready, already tacked up and waiting to ride into battle. Razum-dar leaned against the wall near her head, patting the animal's neck with furry hands. He didn't bother to straighten when she entered, instead waiting for her to make her way to stand between his legs. Her hands found a home on his chest.

"You'll keep an eye on them, right?" Ellyria asked quietly, worriedly.

It drove against every nature in her body to worry about another. The three years with the Graybeards and nine years in Cyrodiil's tumultuous political climate had taught her to worry only for her own skin. Even her life in Aldmeris had been herself against the world until her children had been born. And still, the once dead instincts of being a mother were snaking tentacles around her throat.

"Of course, Raz will take good care of them while you are with the mage." With quick fingers, he snatched up her hand and gave a mocking half-bow that brought his face close to hers. "The Eyes of the Queen are at your service, sweet sugar."

Ellyria rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "Stop, before the wrong person hears your jokes."

Kissing a Khajiit was an odd sensation. There was fur against her mouth and a sandpaper tongue pressing against her lips, but it didn't really feel like kissing. Her hands pressed up against his pectorals, one sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck. When his hand slipped down to grab her ass through the leather of her armored pants, Ellyria whacked him on the shoulder.

"The Eye of the Queen does not have time to indulge in such illicit activities in the stables," she teased, pushing him away by the chest. He grabbed her hand above his heart, holding it tightly against his chest as if wounded. There was a noise of fake pain, and a smile tugged again at her lips. "Don't get into too much trouble without me."

"This one would not dare," he assured her. "Who would he have to rescue from the bars of prison should you not be here?"

Her mount was steady as she swung into the saddle. With a gentle press of her heels, Sapphire shot away from the stable and down the cobblestone streets of Auridon. Ellyria gave the horse her head. Hoofbeats filled her ears as cobblestone turned to dirt and then they were tearing away toward Vulkhel Guard. With her children and her mother and her lover behind her, Ellyria left the thoughts, and guilts, and worries for them, too. There was no room for that as she rode into what would surely be the jaws of death once again.