The Altmer didn't realize he was being followed until it was too late. With a sigh, he made for a back alley. With any luck, his stalker would have been misled and he'd be safe. He stuck close to the wall and held his breath as he waited for the stalker to pass.
"Justiciar Cyrenial?"
The Altmer groaned with frustration, rubbing his face with his hand. He turned to look at his purple robed compatriot. He didn't recognize him. This one must have been one Ondolemar's new lackeys. Cyrenial answered him with a frown, "Yes, what?"
"Elenwen is in Markarth and is expecting you at Understone Keep."
Cyrenial felt himself go cold in an instant. He was only able to stammer out a few words, "You're not joking, are you?"
"Absolutely not. I saw her only a few minutes ago before you tried to run away. Shall I escort you now?"
The elf sighed, "I don't think I have much of a choice." The younger Altmer shrugged and waved for Cyrenial to follow him. With each step, the dread in the pit of Cyrenial's stomach grew. He tried to convince himself he wasn't too concerned. Even if Elenwen was going to try to report him to their superiors in Alinor, he was sure he could somehow talk his way out of this. He did it before and he could do it again.
Their walk up was slow and uneventful. Everyone around them seemed wholly unaware of what was bound to happen. That may have been for the best.
Cyrenial's heart rate spiked as the younger Altmer held the door open to the keep. The cavern like building opened out and he could see Ondolemar waiting for him in the back. Only when he approached him closer, did Cyrenial notice the anxiety in his face.
Cyrenial turned to his escort, "You can leave now."
"What?"
"I told you to leave. You're not wanted here," Cyrenial snapped.
The younger Altmer opened his mouth to protest before Ondolemar cut him off, "Cyrenial outranks us both. It would be wise to listen to him. Besides this something even I do not want to be involved. Please go back to your regular duties"
Cyrenial and Ondolemar watched the young elf leave before Cyrenial spoke again, "What have I been called here for?"
"I think we both know."
Cyrenial narrowed his eyes, "You didn't tell her anything, did you?"
"Like what?"
With a groan, Cyrenial waved his peer off, "Doesn't matter. I assume she is your office?"
"Yes, let's not keep Madame Ambassador waiting, shall we?" Ondolemar said, gesturing towards a hall behind him.
Cyrenial rolled his eyes and went on ahead of the Justiciar. Any of the nervousness he felt earlier was replaced with a bitter emptiness. He wasn't sure what was worse, but after talking with Ondolemar, Cyrenial found his ability to care gone. He opened the door to one of the back rooms with a flourish and put on a grin. May as well make a show of it.
"And so the Lady of the Thalmor graces us with her presence at last," Cyrenial laughed, placing his hands on his hips.
Elenwen rubbed her temples with a sigh. "Unfortunately so. You left me no choice. It has been three months since I heard anything form you and our superiors in Alinor are breathing down my neck for answers."
She wasn't nearly as angry as he expected, though perhaps not for long. Cyrenial arched an eyebrow, "And what did you tell them?"
"I have nothing to tell them Cyrernial. That is your job!" She paused, expression softening only a bit. "Well, what do I tell them, Cyrenial? "
Cyrenial sighed, "Tell them everything's fine. I'm getting some directions very soon and then we can get the necklace back to Sedor."
Elenewen exchanged a glower look with Ondolemar before glaring at Cyrenial again. "How long?"
"What?"
"How long have you been waiting for these directions?" Cyrenial felt himself falter again. His eyes darted to Ondolemar at his side. the Altmer only shrugged. Elenwen's eyes narrowed again, "The last report Ondolemar sent me concerning you was disappointing. First of all, the pages you came out of Mzinchaleft with were meager. And you almost killed Aicantar! I cannot condone killing a resource, no matter how tempting. How did you expect to get your documents translated?"
"Ask Ondolemar," Cyrenial shouted, crossing his arms. The younger Justiciar sunk closer to the wall in an attempt to remain unnoticed. Cyrenial only shook his head and continued, "He was the one who went to Aicantar, not I. I've been waiting weeks for results."
Elenwen looked past Cyrenial to Ondolemar, arching an eyebrow, "is this true?"
Ondolemar sighed relentingly. "It is."
"I told you to stop using my justiciars as your own people. How many times must I tell you that?"
"I'm working within the limits which have been set for me, Madame Ambassador." Cyrenial paused for only a moment, rolling his eyes, "Of course if I had support from the beginning, I may have been able to get all of this done much quicker."
There was a long moment of silence and Cyrenial felt himself grow tenser. Elenwen addressed Ondolemar again, "Both you and Cyrenial admitted that you sent Cyrenial's notes to this Aicantar boy. What is happening?"
Ondolemar gulped nervously, "They were given to Aicantar some weeks ago. We are still waiting for him to finish."
"Well, where is he? Go get Aicantar right now. I'm demanding answers."
'Right away, Madame Ambassador," Ondolemar muttered before leaving the office. Both Cyrenial and Elenwen refused to look at one another, finding places in the room to stare at. Cyrenial was getting impatient and wanted answers. But he didn't want to get them lime this. Not with Elenwen breathing down his neck and a chance of Calcelmo learning that Cyrenial almost killed his nephew.
It wasn't until ten minutes after that Ondolemar walked back in, followed by the annoyed court mage. Ondolemar found a place next Cyrenial and the both of the stuck close to the wall.
Calcelmo faced Elenwen with a frown. "Don't you realize I'm busy?"
"So are we, Calcelmo," Elenwen stated calmly, "Where is your nephew? I understand he was translating a set of documents for our mutual friend Cyrenial."
"Mutual friend?" Calcelmo blanched, "No, Cyrenial is not my friend, not in the least. But I did assign my nephew a special project translating some Falmer documents given to us by the Thalmor Justiciar in the corner over there."
"And where is your nephew now?"
Calcelmo shook his head, "He left almost more than a week ago."
"Why would you let him leave?" Elenwen exclaimed, eyes growing to the size of platters. Cyrenial shrunk back further. Calcelmo didn't move.
Sighing, the old Altmer stole a quick glance towards the door, "He isn't a hired thug. Aicantar can come and go as he pleases."
"Did Aicantar finish his task?"
"Yes, I believe he did."
Elenwen splayed her hand out, gesturing towards Calcelmo, "And where is the final product?"
"In his work space I would imagine." Calcelmo paused for only a moment, clicking his tongue, "This makes me wonder what you needed these documents for. I've heard it had something to do with the late Alastaros."
"Yes, Alastaros did pass on. A shame. But the exact information gained from those documents… is too important for you to worry about," Elenwen sighed.
"I'm not a person to go back on my word. I have no qualms handing the documents back to you whatsoever." Calcelmo turned his head to look over to the two Altmer by the wall, "However, I cannot condone the threats towards my nephew nor the senseless deaths of a colleague of mine and his assistants. I am a court mage in a city the Thalmor have no actual authority in. Keep that in mind the next time you ask me for favors, Cyrenial."
With that, Calcelmo left the office with a grumble. Elenwen glanced over to Cyrenial. "I was not aware that Calcelmo knew of what happened in Mzinchaleft. You are aware that this will only make our jobs harder from now on, right, Cyrenial?"
"Not for long, Elenwen. As soon as I have left for Sedor, you'll have no problems," the Altmer muttered, staring at the door Calcelmo walked out of. "However, this meeting will continue to weigh on me."
"Oh? Have you come to care for this band of dead treasure hunters as well? You grow too attached to your subjects. It's a wonder Alinor offered you another position in the first place."
Cyrenial felt himself grow cold. "Perhaps, but Valleri Alastarim was woman I could have come to respect greatly had I gotten to know her under different circumstances."
"What ever the case may be, I will have Ondolemar deliver the documents back to you this evening. I recommend that you leave town shortly after," Elenwen suggested, rubbing her temples.
"Yes, Madame Ambassador. That would be wise, wouldn't it?" Cyrenial mumbled as he turned to leave. As soon as he was out of earshot, he leaned against the cold stony wall and sunk to the floor. His limbs felt heavy as he thought back to his time in the ancient Dwemer city and the desperate look of the Imperial's face.
Maybe if things were different…
…
Valleri was relieved to see that the mess she and Aicantar had left earlier in the day was cleaned up for the most part. Books and loose papers were organized and piled on a smaller table. The ink spill was wiped away for the most part. Only a shadow of it was left on the wooden table top. Valleri felt a tinge of guilt over not cleaning it up herself, but the feeling faded quickly replaced by exhaustion
She was just tired. Her interrupted nap was more draining than she thought. Valleri sighed and gave Farkas a pat on the arm before leaving the Nord upstairs. With each step Valleri got closer to being able to fall asleep again.
The noise was barely noticeable until the Imperial was at the bottom of the staircase. There was a rustling at the end of the hall. Valleri strained her eyes and paused when she saw the figure in Kodlak's old office. Reluctantly, Valleri made her way further, passing the bunkroom with a tinge of disappointment. Her bed would have to wait just a bit longer.
The Imperial slowed as she neared the office. A tall figure was standing over the back desk, hunched over a large paper. Whoever it was didn't seem to notice her. Valleri was sure the figure was Aicantar. Maybe if she was quiet, she could turn around and return to the bunkroom without being questioned about what she was up to earlier.
"Oh, there you are."
Valleri stopped turning around only to see Vilkas come out of the spare bed room, scrolls tucked haphazardly under his arm. The Nord took a moment to place the scrolls on the desk next to Aicantar before addressing Valleri. "You weren't in the bunk room when we got back."
"Yeah, Farkas woke me up on accident."
Vilkas rolled his eyes, "Of course he did."
"Honestly, he didn't know," Valleri muttered with a shrug.
There was a quiet pause before Aicantar started complaining, "Vilkas, what are these?"
the Nord turned to stare at Aicantar over his shoulder. Valleri could see the annoyance all over his face and smiled. "I don't know! They're maps that had some Dwemer ruins on them," Vilkas groaned.
Aicantar turned away from the desk entirely. His face was contorted into a disappointed frown. He unfurled one of the scrolls and turned it towards the back. Valleri could barely make out small, black print in the corner. Aicantar pointed right to the words, "This was copied from another map made at the beginning of this era. It's not even two centuries old! This map is hardly relevant!"
Vilkas sighed, "You didn't check to see if your cave was on there?"
"I did! It's not on there! It's not anywhere!"
Vilkas took the map from Aicantar and scanned it over. Every one remained silent apart from an occasional yawn from Valleri. In another moment, Vilkas haphazardly tossed the map onto another table and rubbed his eyes, "This is getting ridiculous.
The Altmer tilted his head downwards, "We should take another break. We're not getting anywhere."
"Much agreed."
Valleri grimaced as she looked past Aicantar. After a second glanced, she could see several different maps sprawled out across the desk. "I should have asked earlier, but what are you two doing?'
Aicantar exchanged an uncertain glance with Vilkas before turning back to Valleri with purple ringed eyes. "We weren't finding anything in journals and apparently Kodlak had a whole bunch of old maps." The elf paused and shrugged, "Except, we're still not finding anything."
"Maybe we should go back to Winterhold?" Vilkas suggested. "The College may have what we're looking for."
"No," Aicantar countered, "We don't have enough time to travel halfway across the province. For all we know, my uncle could have already given the Thalmor their information."
"Well, this obviously not working, Aicantar. Do you have any other ideas?"
"No, but something's gotta give."
Valleri's hand went to her pocket as she listened to her friend's argument. The small piece of paper she was writing on earlier was still there. She'd almost forgotten about it. The Imperial looked up when she heard Vilkas call out her name. Her eyes went wide as she looked at him suddenly, "Yes?"
The Nord grimaced for a second then spoke, "I was asking what you were thinking. Are we going to continue to go through the journals?"
"In this case no." Valleri slipped the paper out of her pocket and held it up in the air. Aicantar and Vilkas regarded her with confusion. "While you guys were over here going through Kodlak's stash, I was in Dragonsreach with Farkas looking for any instance of Darkfall Cave."
Aicantar narrowed his eyes, "I assume you found something?"
"I think. At least I'm pretty sure I did," The Imperial bit her lip as she scanned the page, "There was an old abandoned cave near Deep Folk Crossing. There's some old Dwemer and Falmer building around apparently. The book was sort of old, but the name was an exact match." She paused again, glancing between Vilkas and Aicantar. Valleri arched an eyebrow, "Well?"
The two men exchanged a quick glance and a smirk came to Vilkas' face. "I don't see why not. It's more than we found."
"Aicantar?"
The Altmer threw his hands up in the air, but Valleri noticed fond exasperation in his expression. "I'm a tad disappointed I didn't figure this out, but I have no actual complaints in going to check. Time for another adventure, I guess."
"That's the spirit," Valleri laughed. She sighed and closed her for a second. She handed the paper to Vilkas. "We'll leave town in two days. I know this is probably true for each cave and ruin we go through, but I think there's a good chance we won't come back. But, hope for the best right?" Valleri muttered with a sleepy smile.
"Let's not think about that, right now," Vilkas answered.
Valleri took a quick look at Aicantar. He was staring hard at the ground with a look of horror on his face. Vilkas was probably right. The Imperial turned on her heel and waved before walking out of the office. "I'm going to bed. I can barely keep my eyes open."
Vilkas sighed and put a reassuring hand on Aicantar's shoulders, "She's just joking."
The Altmer looked up with wide eyes, "Gods, I hope so!"
…
Ysolda tried to take off a few hours during the evening each week form working at the Bannered Mare. She was confident enough in Saadia and Olfina to run the place in exchange for a nice bonus. Of course, she could only take the hours when the two waitresses were working. Ysolda wouldn't even think about leaving Mikkel by himself. She would have liked to have more faith in the bard, but letting him serve customers or make any food seemed like a bad idea.
But tonight, she was able to stay home. There was something calming about making food for herself. There absolutely no expectations from other people. Ysolda actually missed cooking for herself.
She paused when she heard the back door open and familiar figure in a heavy cloak walked in. A smile came to her face.
Well, she also just missed cooking for Farkas too. He wasn't always in town. Usually, he was busy taking care of contracts for the Companions. Since Kodlak's passing and the Battle of Whiterun, he'd become more serious about his work. Ysolda was proud of him, she always would be. But Ysolda hoped that at some point Farkas would focus on training and spend more time in Whiterun. It did make their time together a little bit more memorable though.
Ysolda paused chopping up some carrots and turned around to greet Farkas. She narrowed her eyes with a laugh, "What happened? You're all dusty!"
A confused smile came to the Nord's face, "Am I?"
"Yes!"
Farkas shrugged, "I was helping out Valleri. There was an avalanche of old books."
Ysolda continued cooking, "Sounds like a fun time. Can you get the plates out real quick?"
"What? Oh, yeah," Farkas muttered. He paused and looked up suddenly before turning to look at Ysolda over his shoulder, "I should have said something earlier, but I asked Vilkas to come over tonight."
"As in for dinner?"
Farkas nodded his head, "I hope that's not too bad."
A smile came to Ysolda's lips, "Not at all. I would say its been a while since I've seen Vilkas, but I saw him this morning. He's been gone for a while though."
"That's what I thought," Farkas muttered. He cringed for moment, "I feel a bit bad I haven't been paying attention to him."
"I wouldn't be too worried. He's got Valleri now."
The Nord paused and looked over to his wife, "Is that an actual thing now?"
Ysolda shrugged as she pulled a pan out of the hearth. "If it isn't, I'd be surprised. It's been a few months." Farkas didn't say anything as he watched Ysolda finish dinner. The smell of fresh food filled the room and Ysolda couldn't help be feel warm inside. In a few more minutes, dinner was done and Farkas got up from the table to bring the dishes in.
Farkas perked up when he heard the front door creak open. Vilkas looked around the corner with a frown, "You two should get a lock. Anyone can walk right in."
"I'm not very worried about that," Ysolda answered, rolling her eyes. "Even when Farkas is gone, I'm sure enough I could scare off a thief in need be."
Vilkas made his way to the table, "Just saying." He clattered into the chair and crossed his arms
Ysolda didn't speak further. Instead a smile grew on her face as she watched Valleri walk into her house. The Imperial's eyes were tired and heavy lidded while her hair was chaotically uncombed. The Nordic woman exchanged a confused glance with Farkas.
"You okay there, Val?" Ysolda asked. The Imperial only shrugged before taking a seat.
"Don't mind her, Ysolda. I woke her up a few minutes ago," Vilkas explained.
Valleri waved Ysolda off dismissively, "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'm fine. Still waking up is all."
"I hope you're awake enough to eat," Ysolda muttered.
Valleri closed her eyes and sighed, "I think I'm good for now. Thanks though."
"If you say so." Ysolda took the seat next to Farkas and looked over to Vilkas, "Did you ever find that cave you were looking for?"
The Nord shook his head, "Never did."
"That's unfortunate."
Farkas narrowed his eyes and gestured to Valleri across from him. "Wasn't that what we were doing in Dragonsreach?"
Valleri hummed affirmatively, "Yep. Apparently, they've been stashing books and maps in a back room in the castle nobody knows about." Valleri paused with a sigh, "That's what I forgot." Everyone at the table looked at each other for a moment in anticipation. The frown in Valleri's face deepened, "I forgot to return Farengar's key. Oh well."
Ysolda leaned back in her chair, "There's always tomorrow. Until then please eat. I don't want to have cooked all this food for nothing."
There was a moment of silence before any one reached for the food Ysolda prepared. But in a few moments the small house was filled with laughter and warmth. Ysolda didn't always have time to make dinner for everyone. But she had no problems making time.
