Disclaimer: What's Bethesda's is theirs, etc. Stories might not be in chronological order.
Lords and Ladies
Ulfric was holding this special dinner for nobles, thanes, and leaders of important services and guilds. It was a working dinner of sorts, as there would be a great deal of business and planning for the coronation to be made that night, but some socializing as one guest per invitee was permitted. Most brought business associates, but some brought their mates or, like Revyn, brought something else.
Revyn's guest was a lovely Altmer who towered over him. She stood head and shoulders above everyone present, and held her head defiantly up with pride despite all the hateful glares concentrated upon her.
She was dressed in a long gown of expensive Breton forest green silk velvet. Her gold brown hair had been brushed to a high sheen and braided, Nord style, to form a crown and the rest of her hair, braided, set, and then brushed out to form soft waves tumbed down her back. Hairpins topped with gemstones shaped to resemble flowers further decorated her braids. Around her neck was loosely draped a long scarf of ice white silk, embroidered with vividly colorful birds and butterflies, the ends allowed to flutter loose and freely about her breasts and waist.
She was the image of spring, even the wooden sheath of the hunting knife frogged to her belt was polished wood of lovely rainbow colors.
They proceeded unhindered to Ulfric.
"My Jarl, allow me to introduce the noble warrior who saved my life when I had been captured by assassins. Elasara of Cloudrest."
Ulfric smiled tightly. Yesterday, in a private room, Revyn had introduced her to him as, "Princess Ardeth Chamius d'Karoodil, niece of the late king Reman of Firsthold on Auridon, kinsmer by his marriage to Morgiah of Wayrest, sister to King Helseth of Morrowind who is ancestor to my wife."
But for the safety of her family still in Auridon, imprisoned by the Dominion, she would be publicly introduced by the false name she used when she'd joined the Thalmor army 20 years ago.
Elisara gave a deep, graceful bow, acknowledging Ulfric's higher rank.
"Welcome, warrior," Ulfric stated firmly. "I thank you for the life of my steward. His death would have been a great loss to my court."
"And the end of all my hopes, gracious lord," she said solemnly. "I am honored by your welcome."
Sharp mer ears heard the whispers around them become vicious and unflattering as Ulfric's gaze lingered a touch too long upon her face.
"Ah, Elasara, here is another I wanted you to meet," said Revyn, gently interrupting the silence between the two. He turned her towards the burly newcomer joining their group. "General Galmar, I present my savior. I brought her especially to meet you. I have hopes that her knowledge of Thalmor affairs in Skyrim would prove useful to you."
"Will it?" challenged Galmar. He stared hard at her but said nothing more. His expression clearly said he didn't expect much of her.
After some polite exchanges, Revyn took her around to introduce her to other friends and associates attending this affair.
The new Dunmer town was a hot topic along with the rumor that the Felix trade company was going to have a presence in that new town. Naturally, there was interest in buying up the properties of the Gray Quarter once the Dunmer left. Trade was also a popular topic. There were Nords who thought the Felix office would be better served in Windhelm's trade district. Plenty were trying to cozy up to Revyn for recommendations and insights.
He kept an eye on his Altmer cousin, watching how she maintained herself amidst the silken hostility. He also observed Ulfric and noted the Stormcloak often glanced her way. Not overtly, not fixated. Fast glances, frequent surveillance of the crowd, but always in her general direction.
There was a murmur of excitement and anticipation as General Galmar approached them.
"All right, you interest me, elf. Let's talk and see if you have anything useful."
They walked off, side by side, with similar body language, hands loosely clasped behind their backs, they paced around the room, talking. One circuit around the chamber, then back to Revyn. Galmar even gave her a shallow bow before leaving them.
A distinct tone of disappointment in the crowd that had expected livelier entertainment.
Revyn smiled slightly and turned back to Snowden who was talking tax structuring for the first two years of the new town's existence.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
"Thank you for taking in Ardeth."
"Elisara," grunted Ambarys, reminding him. "Not a problem. She's easy to look at and has charmed the old veterans below. Mixes good drinks, too, if a bit on the fruity, fancy side. I've told her if she's looking for another profession, I'll hire her in a snap.
"But why bring her back here? With the coronation coming up, this city is full of strangers and a good mix of spies, thieves, and assassins."
"Believe me, it wasn't my idea. The order came from the Ancestors."
"Vith."
"Yes. Oh, it was so embarrassing, Ambarys. While I was finishing the Black-Briar project in Riften, I received an invitation from the Felixes. They had just arrived in Riften with their trade caravan and were staying at the Merryfair farm. I go there and discovered Taliesin had finally returned from Morrowind, and he'd brought the Nerevarine.
"I finally meet the Nerevarine and then I'm passing out at his feet because every bloody Ancestor in creation has something to say to him. I lost two days and nights as a babbling Mouth. They'd had to set up shifts to take notes.
"I have not memory of anything I said. They just handed me the notes that mentioned me or people in Windhelm, or who would soon come to Windhelm.
"One of the orders was that I was to bring Arde-, Elisara to meet Ulfric. I have no idea why or what she's suppose to do."
"She seems to be handling Windhelm well," said Ambarys. "But then, she's also sensible enough to stay in at nights and to accept escort offers when she goes to the markets. We've got an assassin watch on her and she's cooperating."
"Good, good. I knew she'd be safe in your care."
"Do you think the Ancestors are match-making?"
Revyn shuddered. "Yannig would certainly rejoice if someone else took Ulfric's attentions away from her. And Ulfric's interest is probably nothing more than curiosity about my wife's royal, half-Altmer cousins. I've told him the whole story about the overthrow of Queen Morgiah's children from the throne of Firsthold and how Ardeth escaped and changed her identity. I told her to tell him a condensed version of her story when I'd arranged their first private meeting.
"Fortunately, he hasn't asked me yet why I've brought her back to Windhelm. I'm still trying to think of an answer. Saying 'the spirits told me' is not going to do."
"Easy enough," said Ambarys. "He knows you're working that insane idea of turning Candlehearth Hall back into a teleport shrine. He believes you're thinking of a one-shot rescue into Summerset via the shrine. Who else knows the lay of the land but her? And since you have to be in Windhelm for duties until Helsette's ready to give birth, it only makes sense that she has to come here for you to consult with."
"Oh, that's a good reason."
"It'll do. And if you're pressed for details, you can always claim most of your attention is still on persuading Early-Dawn to sell. It's for certain she won't until after the coronation. She's book up weeks in advance and is going to be making a lot of money. Selling her place is the last thing she'll consider."
"Do you think she'll accept Proudspire in exchange? Makes more in a quarter year in rental than she makes in a year."
"No. It's not a Stormcloak hold. Too bad you don't have a grand place in Riften. Maybe you could offer to build her something there."
"I would. But I'm sure she'll find more objections, like all the thieves, the number of dark elves infesting the Rift, the gods-awful miasma rising from the waterways every dawn and smothering the town until the afternoon sun burns it off."
There was a knock on the door leading down to the kitchen. Ambarys opened it. Elisara smiled at them. "Forgive my interruption, but General Galmar has come to invite me to a tour of the Palace and lunch at one of the restaurants in the Valunstrad district. I'd like to accept unless you think it unwise."
Galmar? Revyn and Ambarys exchanged disbelieving glances.
"Let me talk with him first, but I see no harm if you wish to go with him," said Revyn.
"I'll go to my room then and change clothes," she said.
Revyn went downstairs. Galmar stood by the bar with mead in his hands and ignoring all the attention he was getting from off-duty Gray Guards. He scowled. "I mean her no harm, and I'm not bringing her in for interrogation," he stated flatly before Revyn could greet him.
"I didn't think that was your intention, my lord," said Revyn. "But I insist on a guard for her. They'll follow at a discreet distance; you'll never know one's there."
"You fear assassins?"
"Always." Galmar's grunt and curt nod acknowledged Revyn's concern.
Elisara appeared. She wore a steel-plated Dawnguard overcoat with a high collar. She had her hunting knife. Her leather and fur skaal hat concealed the tips of her ears and a bonemold skullcap. Revyn removed his earring and carefully put it on her ear. "Anti-poison," he told her softly. "Ambarys will have a tracker following you."
She nodded and smiled as if he'd complimented her on her dress.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Sadri went back to his home via the connecting door in the Cornerclub's kitchen. The Ra'athim guard on the other side informed him Lady Inelisi wanted to see him, if he had the time, and that she was praying at the shrine in his office below.
But before then, Sera Dana wanted to see him.
He went to Dana's bedroom. The room she usually used as an office was temporarily a guest room for Kinlord Ra'athim Taredase Davrian, so all of her office files had been crowded back into her bedroom.
"Hello, Dana. You wanted to see me?"
"I hear dear Elisara has made a conquest. Galmar, of all people. He does seem to be attracted to older women. But not all of us are grateful for such attention," She muttered. She picked up folded pieces of paper and waived them at him. "Gold Coast Watch. Colovian newspapers delivered a couple hours ago along with a request for interviews, an Etrude Aquila. Says you've given permission?"
"Yes. Etrude Aquila and her husband, Alessandro Roberto are Felix cousins by marriage. Etrude is an information collector and Roberto makes sure the appropriate news go to the right parties."
"Ah, I see."
"They wish to cover the developments in Winterhold. Alessandro has spoken with me and tells me a campaign of promotion needs to be started in Winterhold to overshadow and distract attention away from the Skytemple project, to give the Thalmor spies too many targets to chase down and giving us a chance to find those spies. He has subscriptions from the Thalmor, you see, and actually has a good standing with the Thalmor as being a reliable source of commercial activities. If the Gold Coast Watch thinks there are meaningful innovations and developments in distant Winterhold, then smart readers pay attention."
She tapped the papers. "So, any review, good or bad, is all for one purpose?"
"Of course. You know the saying: 'too good to be true.' Just make sure our people don't overreact to a few harsh words."
"Ah, keeping to the high road. All right." She smiled. "I'm sure the Thalmor know this, um, marriage connection to the Felixes — their being present at the Felix family gathering at Goldenglow would confirm that — will they not suspect information being reported by the Gold Coast is compromised?"
"A reasonable assumption," said Revyn. "I do so look forward to discussing with Alessandro how he manages that." He picked up a paper and scanned through the articles.
"Was there anything else, Dana?"
She tossed a scroll at him. "House Father Taredase's list of questions and requests. And he also apologizes for his valet's unwise decision to raid your private pantry for late night snacks. He hopes you will convey his sincere apologies to the house guardians and that they stop throwing his servant out the door whenever he tries to return to perform his duties. He asks what an appropriate apology gift would be."
"I'm not sure. What do you suggest, Dana?"
"A barrel of mead and a venison roast." She chuckled. "But since we're maintaining the illusion that your house is guarded by your Dunmer ancestors, I suppose, hm, some good quality greef and beetle-cheese cakes. Popular Ashlander stuff, I believe, and appropriate for your ancestors. "He'll have to do some searching to find them because most of the Dunmer here are Skyrim born or come from Morrowind cities."
"Delicious, and appropriate. Anything else?"
"Nothing that can't wait until your scheduled office hours. Don't be late."
"Thank you, Dana."
He went to the kitchen, picked up a tart from the snack platter set out for the office staff, and peeked into the public room. Things appeared to be going smoothly. Regular security had extra help from the Ra'athim guards, a nice courtesy from his guest who knew his presence would bring attention and petitioners. Those petitioners were directed to a corner of the room where his secretary took names and listed reasons.
Lord Taredase came up from the basement. "There you are. Are you done with all those meetings Ser Dana said was on your schedule?"
"Mostly, serjo. I just stopped by to check with Dana in case there were any changes, and your guard told me Muthsera Inelisi wanted to see me. Oh, and Dana did tell me you want your valet back. Um, a jar of quality greef and beetle-cheese cake should make my house guardians quite happy."
"I see. And is there an Ashlander food stall around here? Ah, nevermind. My servant can look for it himself while he's shopping for other things." He gestured to the basement door. "Inelisi then. We will talk later."
He went down. The two new servants, Hlaalu boys recently immigrated from Mournhold, were doing laundry. He was pleased. Not only were they accepted by the guardians, but they didn't complain when they had to give up their room to accommodate the servants of the guests. They had made temporary room in the storage area. He nodded at their greeting.
Inelisi was sitting on a cushion before the Waiting Door. She had the scroll he'd made of the family lines and was carefully penning in new names and branches. He knelt beside her and read the additions.
"It's kind of you to include this on your family altar," she said. "Though I hope your Ancestors don't object. We're all Aedra worshipers after all."
"Yourself included?" he asked.
"Yes. Once I left Morrowind, I converted to my husband's religion. I didn't want to be separated from him after death by being drawn to Oblivion. Or perhaps I would be in the Void since it is questionable where the soul ultimately goes for those who worshiped the Almsivi." She sighed. "Helsette told me of your adventure in Apocrypha, and how you freed yourself by praying to my husband and his kin because you couldn't reach your Ancestors. She said my husband heard you and reached into Oblivion on your behalf to find Ancestors of my House."
She sighed heavily again. "Soon, very soon I will go to find my Gaius. Yet, I can't help but miss my parents and my kin. I've been dreaming of them." She laughed softly. "Even Helseth has come by with his opinions. Just so you know, he's proud of his namesake and looks forward to meeting you when your time comes.
"It is saying goodbye all over again. Aetherius and Oblivion, and the only meeting ground is Mundus." She closed her eyes. "And you, Revyn, you are Oblivion bound. Do you expect Helsette to follow you, or will Mundus be your only union until the unmaking of the world?"
"I've made my bargains," said Revyn, shrugging, "And I shall keep them. I truly believe Helsette will go where she will even afterwards, and so I shall wait for her in my little corner of Oblivion then as I do now."
Inelisi laughed softly and stroked his cheek with affection. "I have no doubt she will find you when it is time."
She put the scroll back and Revyn helped her to her feet. She wandered to the small shrines to Akatosh, Zenithar, and Jhunal.
"And speaking of bargains, when will you speak to your Jarl of your wish to take up the title of Thane?"
"In two days. I quite dread what he will demand of me."
"It cannot be any more than what he has demanded of you when he forced you to accept the position as his steward. My daughter was quite astonished at the volatility of your jarl; how quickly you went from accused traitor to a steward of the court and solely responsible for the welfare of the Gray Quarter.
"Yes, but this time I am asking for an advance in rank, from public servant to quasi-nobility. And though I am called a steward, he has quickly assigned me tasks that have nothing to do with the Gray Quarter, such as investigating the Black-Briars for the Jarl of Riften, investigating the Silver-Bloods of Markarth.
"Oh, I have no fear he'll deny me. As I said, I am merely wary of the conditions and new demands he will make."
"Perhaps he will be inclined to give you more leeway now that he has met Ardeth. How he treats you will greatly influence her favor.
"Oh, don't look like that, Revyn. It's a fact of life Ardeth is a royal. She understands that marriage has always been the oldest contract for power."
"I am not that naive, muthsera. But he is the Stormcloak and, princess or not, she is an Altmer. There are too many who will never see her as anything but 'Thalmor.'"
"So he loses a little of his Nord base. He gains Dunmer support through you."
Revyn nodded slightly, giving up his position. "All right. But it is no guarantee Ulfric will go that far with her. Is Ardeth aware of this ploy?"
"No. All she has been told is that he is interested in meeting her to thank her for rescuing you. That, and crass curiosity basically. And despite what I said about her being a royal who understands alliances, we are not so desperate or hard-hearted to push her into a marriage that has no personal benefits for her.
"And while we don't know the ultimate intentions of the Ancestors to introduce her to Ulfric, I see no reason why we can't work our own advantages into the event. Jarl Ulfric has invited me to lunch tomorrow, along with Yannig and Ardeth. We'll see what kind of mood he's in."
X—X—X—X—X—X
"By my right as Jarl, I acknowledge you as Freyr, noble lord of the new town of Aldmora, in return for your renewed oath of loyalty to me and your heirs to Eastmarch."
Blast the Stormcloak. Despite Ardeth's, Inelisi, and Yannig's best efforts, he just had to complicate things. Revyn should have known that none of the ladies' considerable charms could sway the cold crystalline heart of Jyggalag's influence.
No, he would not give Revyn the title of "Thane," a halfway post between commoner and noble. Instead, he booted Revyn to the ranks of land-owning nobility and tightened on a golden collar of service. If Aldmora was going to be a Dunmer town, he wanted it clear that the town's loyalties would not be to Morrowind.
Fine. Revyn re-swore loyalty and received a chest of gold (that would be returned soon enough in the form of tax payments), a hastily sewn banner of a circular, ornamental gold tree upon a field of green, and battleaxe he could barely lift.
"Actually, it makes sense," conceded Ambarys. "The new town and land needs a noble to build it up. It allows you a hell of a lot more authority and will discourage some landless Nord noble from trying to move in and take over. And though you can't proclaim absolute ownership of the town and land by normal Morrowind rules, getting a promotion to power within the Stormcloak government is an accomplishment."
He easily hefted the battleaxe — regularly hoisting kegs kept him in good condition — and held it neared to a lamp to examine the design work. "Is that supposed to be a screaming elf here?"
"Yes," said Revyn, gloomily. "It's a copy of Wuuthrad, the ebony battleaxe of Ysgramor. 'Storm's Tears' is the translation of its name. Legend says his son, Yngol — yes, that Yngol buried in that mound outside Windhelm — created it from his father's tears, forged it in lightning, and quenched it in the cold sea the night after Saarthal. If you want to see the real thing, ask Little Nicky next time you see him. He sometimes carries it as the Harbinger of the Companions. The axe was enchanted by Ahzidal — the one buried at Kolbjorn and whom Ralis knows too well — to be especially deadly to any mer. Nicky let my wife hold it; she says it burned her hands."
"It will be a nice update to Temple records," said Elani. "Elevation, even if by a foreign government, will be considered by Morrowind. Now, solidifying the elevation may still face challenges. Although," she hummed, "This is new ground. Your territory is not physically in Morrowind. Hm. I'll consult with Cousin Sorayn to anticipate religious and legal challenges from the Temple. You're likely to get challenges based on bloodline, morality, and such like from the other Houses. We'll start drafting arguments."
"It will be interesting to see our Freya Helsette's reaction to all this," said Ambarys. "'Freya,' Old Atmoran for 'Lady,' right? Freyr and Freya, the Lord and Lady."
"Aye, like Don and Donna, were the Old Cyrodiil for Lord and Lady," said Revyn.
Inelisi came into the room, leaning on Ardeth's arm.
"Lord Sadri?" she acknowledged, smiling wryly. "So, your Jarl acted quickly I see."
"Yes, Ulfric has done it to me again," said Revyn bitterly. He rose and conducted her to the chair he'd been sitting in. "I go with my reports and ready to persuade him to see his way to granting me thaneship. I walk into a room full of nobles and thanes currently in the city. He told me he was promoting me and threatened again to take Aldmora away if I refused. What else was I to do but agree? So he declares me a noble, presents me with an axe, and then kicks me out without even a token drink so he could receive a delegation from High Rock.
"What exactly did you three discuss with him at that luncheon you had with him?"
"We talked of my family in Auridon and the Thalmor dethroning my cousins in favor of a pure blood of a distant line," said Ardeth. "We also touched upon my time with the Thalmor, how I got myself assigned to Skyrim, and how I met you in Markarth.
"I am aware the audience expected some sort of event when General Galmar sought my company during that dinner party three nights ago. His concerns were the ones my father had when Princess Morgiah was brought to Firsthold.
"He asked me about my desertion. Obviously, he wished to compare my story to what he must have heard from you. I found his candor refreshing. We agreed to a sparring match in the near future."
"A sparring match?" Revyn blinked in surprise.
"Not an unusual way for warriors to become further acquainted," replied Ardeth.
"Oh. Oh, yes. Of course. It's just that I can't imagine Galmar raising his battleaxe to any elf in any effort short of killing. But, getting along with Galmar is a good move."
"I would think so if you wish me to encourage your Jarl's attention. Was that not the purpose of bringing me to his attention?"
"In part," conceded Revyn, cringing slightly. "But I swear to you it was not my idea. I would never have thought of it."
"It was the Ancestors," said Inelisi.
Ardeth's brows lifted in surprise. "Ah, I see. Yes, like my cousins among the Psijic Monks who practice the ancient ways of ancestral worship and who draw their wisdom and insights from beyond the mortal sphere. I respect that. I cannot forget it was your connection, Revyn, to your ancestral spirits that enabled our rescue from the kyndjoranois. Very well. But did they say to what purpose Jarl Ulfric and I were to meet?"
"No," said Revyn.
"I see. Then what happens will be according to our natures. But, also tell me, am I mistaken to sense a daedroth's influence upon Jarl Ulfric? I could feel it as we talked."
"Jyggalag," confessed Revyn with a sigh.
Her brows arched again. She turned her head, homing in without hesitation to the suspended carved rod with ring hooks that held coats and satchels and scarves. The Wabbajack's distinctive head was visible. "Ah, I see. Then I shall pray Syrabane to guide my steps between chaos and order."
"You were quick to sense a daedroth; how have you learned that trick?" asked Inelisi.
"My mother. She was born on Arteum but saw her destiny with my father. I have very little talent for magic wielding, but I am sensitive to its presence. My mother helped me refine that small talent. It would be useful as a future battlereeve to detect magics and the type I may have to battle. Also, to discern between Divine or Daedric influence.
"She also taught me her faith in Syrabane. Do you know Syrabane, the youngest of the Divines? Well, youngest until Talos. Syrabane was an archimage and defeated the Thrassian Plague. He got all Mer to unite and even solicited alliance with Man, the King of Anvil, to make war upon Thras."
"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with Syrabane. What aspect is he known by?" asked Revyn.
"He's the apprentice's god. His greatest lesson is to know when to ask for help."
"An important lesson."
"A vital lesson. It sounds so simple. Too simple. Not just asking for help, but asking help from the right people, for the right reasons, for the right price, at the right time." She sighed.
"And then the seller suddenly switches the product," said Revyn, matching her sigh.
They both shrugged.
Ambarys thumped Revyn between the shoulders. "Stop with the gloom. All Ulfric did was call you out on what you've been doing already and force you to take the appropriate rank, with all the legal tools and advantages the nobility have, to carry out your plans.
"And you can't blame him for thinking in the long term. The title of 'Thane' begins and ends with you, however, 'Lord' can be passed to your chosen heir, for good or for ill, with all the responsibilities and rights. It also represents that Aldmora will have a distinct identity and rightful representation in the future court of Eastmarch and the Stormcloak Alliance. He's doing you — and all the Dunmer in Skyrim, finally! — a favor even if you don't think so."
"I didn't want this. I never wanted this," Revyn mumbled.
"Your own damn fault, friend. You just had to get yourself married," said Ambarys unsympathetically. "You told me even your Ancestors warned you against marrying her. Your Ancestors. But you went ahead and did it."
"Go stuff yourself, Ambarys."
Ambarys laughed. "'Your duty is to your honor, your family, and your clan — in that order.' So says Remoran Redoran, Grand Historian for my House, written in the 107th Year of the Golden Peace," he replied. "'I could not love you so much, loved I not Honor more,' and that was one of Vivec's earlier poems before he became a god."
"And look where that got us,' Revyn shot back. Ambarys slapped the back of his head this time.
"You're just becoming a noble lord, not a god. Stop sniveling. It disrespects you, your family, and your House. But, if you want to snivel, here, drink this jug of sujamma first, then you can blubber. And when you sober up, you can get on with doing your duty.
"In fact, everybody, let's all have a drink. To the future prosperity of House Mora."
76_v1
Related stories: #20 Felix Spirituum, #29 3; #54 3, #72 Property Wars,
Ted Hsu: In either case, Revyn is hopping madly to avoid becoming rabbit stew.
Galactic Halfling: Yah. As Team Rocket would say, "Prepare for Trouble!"
