Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios. And the wonderful people of Beyond Skyrim. No profit made, I just own the OC and the plot.
Sadly the review for last chapter was anonymous, but, dear guest, I hope you will read this. Your review reached me at the end of a very dark, awful day and because of stress, hormones and everything else, made me cry a little. It felt like a very much needed, virtual hug. Thank you, truly. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"What is the worst that could happen? Afraid I might think less of you?", the mocking tone returned and her eyes narrowed. "That I consider you weak?"
One look into the Altmer's face showed her that he knew exactly how to get to her, but she couldn't help herself as annoyance started to replace the insecurity.
"I jumped into a portal to Sovngarde and defeated the World-Eater himself, I am not weak", Muriel snapped before she knew it and the amusement in his eyes grew.
Gods, stop being this predictable. He's just baiting you.
"And even if I wanted to", she added through clenched teeth. "I already told you, I don't remember my dreams!"
A short, victorious smile flashed over Armion's face, but he didn't give her any time to worry about how effortlessly he had redirected her mood with little more than words. "Yes, and be assured, I don't doubt your words. We'll come to that in a moment, but first... tell me about Sovngarde."
Muriel looked at him in confusion. The sudden change of topic nearly threw her off track – again. – and the suspicion grew that it was – again! – on purpose.
"You mentioned it for a reason", he said innocently – innocently. Him! "How did you get there?"
"I...", she started just to close her mouth right away, still confused. But... sooner or later they would've talked about it anyway, right? Considering her story could only end with the battle against Alduin.
"In your own time", Armion said with taunting generosity and picked up his quill. Wait, when had she agreed to this...? Muriel watched the elf as he filled the tip of the feather with ink and opened the small notebook in front of him. It was a new one, she noticed, but hadn't they only been halfway through the last? The taste of leather lingered on her tongue like a faint memory and her ears grew warm. Yes, feeling the need to buy a new one suddenly sounded very plausible.
"Well, I..." She cleared her throat and tried to gather her thoughts. "We... well, the backstory of this takes too long, but we had to trap a dragon in Whiterun."
"We'll catch up later. I'm more than capable of making the connections, believe me", he said with a sneer, but didn't sound surprised. Maybe he had heard the rumours before, her plan to use Dragonsreach for its original purpose hadn't exactly been secret back then and could have trickled down to Bruma eventually.
Ignoring his tone, Muriel tried to focus on the events two years ago. "Uh... okay, so Alduin was hiding, because... doesn't matter, I guess... but at that time I didn't know, he had gone to another realm. Esb..." She quickly bit her tongue and luckily caught herself before he noticed anything. He really didn't need to know the whole truth about the Blades being at High Hrothgar at that time; it was bad enough that Elenwen had nearly caught a glimpse of them before Muriel had quickly pushed Delphine and Esbern into an abandoned hallway.
"The Greybeards suggested to trap one of Alduin's soldiers... and gave me his name so I could call him."
"Call him?", Armion repeated a little irritated. "He must've known it'd be a trap."
"Not necessarily", Muriel sighed. Maybe she had to go a little more into detail. "When a dragon hears another's Thu'um... another's voice... most of them just have to investigate. Sometimes when I'm travelling, my Shouts attract a dragon's attention at the worst possible time. Their society is... um... was pretty hierarchic... they always feel the need to test their Thu'um against each other, well, especially against someone like me, I guess, and calling a dragon by his name while channelling the Thu'um, to challenge him like this... Odahviing just couldn't resist. Dragons are proud, you know... probably prouder than your people and we all know, pride's blinding..."
The Thalmor only reacted to the side blow with the slight raising of an eyebrow.
"Anyway... on Dragonsreach's porch I called him and with the help of the Jarl and his men, managed to trap him."
"Just like that?" The eyebrow rose slightly higher and Muriel rolled her eyes.
"Of course not just like that, who traps a dragon just like that?", she said impatiently. "It doesn't really matter right now, does it?"
"I guess not", he agreed to her surprise. "Go on."
She reached up to massage her temple for a few seconds. A mean headache was growing inside her skull, fuelled by tiredness and the constant effort of searching for the purpose of this conversation.
"Like I said, we captured Odahviing and he told me where I had to go in exchange for his freedom, he even offered me safe passage to Skuldafn. It's high up in the mountains, unattainable by foot, but the portal to Sovngarde is at the very top of that temple ruin so I had no choice but to trust him."
"He flew you...?" This time disbelief made Armion interpose.
"Yes – and before you ask: it's really cold, really slippery and really scary. One loop... one sharp turn and you're dead", she said with another sigh. Of course, everyone always wanted to know how it was to ride a dragon. People always thought it was fun. "He dropped me off at the ruin and I... I was attacked right away..."
Her voice faded as she remembered and she had to clear her thoat again.
"More draugr than I had ever seen... and two dragons circling the temple... I fought my way through all of them, went through the whole temple to reach the portal. A dragon priest was guarding it, so I..."
Muriel took a deep breath and pulled her sleeves over her hands. Her eyes followed Armion's quill on its way over the paper. In the last weeks it had always amazed her that he never seemed to have trouble following her words or had ever asked her to slow down. It was like her voice guided his hand while he was still listening to her words, always able to ask follow-up questions right away. Green eyes shot a sharp glance at her, but she wasn't interrupted again. Too bad – this time she wouldn't have minded.
"After I went through the portal, I made my way through Sovngarde. It was... there was this mist Alduin had summoned. I could hear him through it, feasting on the souls like... the sounds were just... I don't know, I never heard anything like it", she said and shuddered at the memory. "Anyway... I reached the whalebone bridge and had to pass Tsun's trial by combat to gain entry to Shor's Hall."
The corners of the Altmer's mouth twisted slightly downwards. She was sure to hear him mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like Nords before raising his voice.
"Did you meet him?"
"Who...? Shor?"
A short nod made her frown, but she still answered honestly. "No... the spirits said his light is too bright for mortal eyes... it would've blinded me. All I saw was a throne."
A rather unspectacular throne, to be honest. But maybe embellishing their halls was something for mortal lords and not for a divine being. Her frown deepened when Armion ended his current note with a clearly visible questionmark.
"Interesting...", he seemed to say more to himself than to her and she had spent enough time in his presence to guess the direction his thoughts were going. Most likely he was already doubting the deity's existence. Armion caught her gaze and added, "You were at what I believe the Nords call the Hall of Valor."
"Right...", Muriel said slowly and tore her eyes away from his writing. She couldn't read it anyway from this far away. "Well, another one of your favourites, Ysgramor, greeted me. He assigned three of the souls at the hall to help me. They had fought Alduin during the Dragon War back in the days and together we went outside to challenge him. Needless to say... we won."
She broke off after she had rattled off the short summary and for a moment her own thoughts about the Oblivion Crisis resonated in her mind. This was it, wasn't it? This was how she herself summarized the events, just a few sentences that described everything and still nothing at all. This was what would remain, this was what people would remember. That she had won. At what cost didn't matter. The journey is the reward, Muriel barely supressed a bitter laugh. She would love to have a word with who ever had come up with that phrase. Before her mind could dive deeper into the brooding mood, Armion finished his writing and looked up to her.
"Now tell me why it was so important to go through all this right now", she demanded when he didn't speak. "Because my dreams have nothing to do with Sovngarde."
Of that she was as sure as it could get. While the memories were still clear and sometimes even persistent, she hadn't experienced unspeakable horrors, at least not like the ones she felt in the night. And she had won the battle, so why should it cause her to feel loss and grief? None of it made sense.
"Hm...", was all that came from the other side of the desk.
Hm? Wow, that's helpful. You don't make sense either, elf...
A few minutes passed in silence before Armion, completely ignoring her previous demand, spoke again. "You went through quite a lot of trouble before even making it to Sovngarde."
Was that a question? "Well... yes? There was no chance to chicken out, Odahviing would've never taken me back down... I..." She hesitated. "I had to go on. The only way out... was forward."
"Or death", he suggested and traced his jawline as he watched her thoughtfully.
Muriel clenched her teeth. He wasn't wrong, the thought had crossed her mind once or twice while fighting her way through that damn temple. Maybe even thrice... okay, maybe even more than that. She remembered the exhaustion she had felt when she had finally reached the top level and how the horrible, floating figure with a mask had made her tear up in despair.
How much more?!, she had cried up to the sky, only to see another two dragons watching her from their places high up on the pillars. If they, too, had decided to engage her in battle... Muriel shuddered at the thought and had to remind herself, that they hadn't lashed out at her. For some reason they had only watched her battling the dragon priest and after it was done... Her body had nearly denied her the stumble towards the portal to put the priest's staff back into its slot, with shaking fingers, stained from her own blood. There hadn't been a single part of her body that hadn't ached, and she had been so, so tired. Unbelievably tired.
She always told everyone that she had jumped into the portal and the only ones to prove her wrong were two nameless dragons. Only they had witnessed how she had stood at the edge of it and how she had simply allowed her knees to give in. Muriel swallowed hard at the sudden pressure behind her eyes.
"Skuldafn fen kos dinok...", she muttered and tried to smile the feeling away.
"What does that mean?"
"Something like... Skuldafn will be death... the dragons kept repeating it like... like a chant, almost... until..."
"Until you believed them", Armion said quietly and held her gaze from across the desk. Her heart sped up the longer the moment stretched. "You never intended to come back."
She closed her eyes in defeat. It was the only thing she could do to keep him from seeing the despair that threatened to wash her away, but she was sure that her face showed it anyway. For a moment she thought about fleeing the study, but her legs didn't seem to be attached to the rest of her body anymore.
"Am I right?"
How...? Never had she told this tiny detail to anyone. How had he managed to pull the rug from under her feet this easily?
"I..." With horror she noticed how hoarse her voice suddenly sounded. Even if she denied it, the Altmer wasn't stupid. With or without her confirmation, he already knew that he had hit home. But then again... he had said it himself, he probably couldn't think less of her and even if, did it matter? This wasn't her trying to make Brynjolf understand, she didn't need the elf on the other side of the desk to get what she was trying to say. It didn't matter if she found the right words.
"No one ever said anything... about coming back...", Muriel heard herself whisper. A tear fell over her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. "It... it wasn't part of the plan... it... I..."
She broke off when her tongue refused to form proper words. When she forced herself to open her lids, she expected spitefulness. Pure enjoyment of watching her suffering, but Armion's eyes and face stayed blank and unreadable. Even the expected sarcastic remark never happened.
He nodded thoughtfully and it was the closest thing to appreciation she would get for what she had shared. Of course, he still wanted something from her, but if that was keeping him at bay for now, she wouldn't argue.
Look at it this way... at least he really doesn't pity you.
Yes, that would be even worse. Pity from a Thalmor. If that ever happened, she was sure the world would end for real this time.
For what felt like an eternity, none of them spoke. Never had she experienced this much silence in the tiny room and it took her several minutes to realize that he was actually waiting for her. As unbelievable as it was, but he wasn't even writing as usual, which was normally the reason for these short breaks. He also wasn't tapping his hands against the armrests of his chair, annoyed that she once again hadn't answered a question fast enough, or detailed enough or anything else that made him impatient.
Muriel carefully tugged at her sleeve until she found the linen hem underneath the leather and used it to wipe over her eyelids. The aching of her head had grown into a full-grown throbbing.
"So...", she said when she felt she had collected herself enough and cleared her throat. Suddenly remembering the now cooled cup of tea he had offered her, she reached for it to calm both her hands and her throat. "What now...?"
"While I do believe your summary to be true...", Armion went over her question, but willingly accepted her attempt of ignoring that she had almost cried in front of him. That he was even capable of keeping his sharp tongue in check was a miracle, but it was after all what he had offered. No pity, no comforting lies, but also no spite or laughing at what she'd say. Just plain, unadorned neutrality. What an odd image, considering who he was. "...and surely quite a memorable experience..."
She took a small sip from the strangely reddish tea, briefly frowning at the unexpected taste. It was flowery, almost sweet, but with an even stranger salty aftertaste and truly nothing like the herbal tea she normally preferred.
"...I have my doubts about its completeness."
That tore her eyes away from the cup in her hands. "There's nothing else."
"Yes, I believe you're convinced of this, but how could it be complete? You told me how you reached the plane, but how did you get back, Muriel? What happened when Alduin was defeated, or to be more specific, what happened when a constant of this world, as old as creation itself, was suddenly destroyed?"
"I... I don't know... Tsun sent me back to the Throat of the World", she answered at least one of his questions.
"And how did he do that? The use of a portal and teleportation both alter magical and physical matter in completely different ways."
"I said I don't know!"
Armion stayed unimpressed by her rising annoyance and Muriel took another sip from the tea. It worked surprisingly well on calming her nerves. Maybe if she'd been a mage, she could've answered his questions. All the talk of feeling magicka and dragon's riding the current of time had always been nothing but flowery words to her. There was nothing inside of her connected to these expressions.
"You do know", he corrected her and reached into his pocket. "You told me, you're able to spit fire and with my own eyes, I saw you turn your body into an ethereal being. I felt the wave, Muriel, and you might not recognize it as such because it comes to you naturally, but the Thu'um is just one of the many forms magic can take."
She stared at him. While there was truth to his words, she still didn't see the connection. Was it so hard for him to explain the mental leaps his mind was taking or was confusing her just his thing?
"More has happened than you're telling me – not that I consider you far-sighted enough to conceal details on purpose", he added when she opened her mouth to protest and she growled. "But those details are buried in your subconciousness and, should you wish, we will dig them up."
An image of the Altmer standing above her with a shovel in his hand flashed through her mind. Not the most comforting metaphor. "And how do you intend to dig them up?"
"With this." A small metal casket, not unlike the one she had used to cast the copy of the key in, but without the holes, was pulled from one of the pockets of his coat and placed on the table.
"What is it...?", she asked and eyed the new object between them.
His gloved hands slowly traced over the edges of the box and as much as the movement was hypnotic, it also woke her curiosity. She was very aware of his eyes resting on her, but didn't bother to look up. What she wanted was for him to open the box and finally put things plainly.
"I took the liberty to visit a trusted alchemist while I was in the Imperial City", Armion said as he opened the casket. "And commission him with this little... remedy."
He pulled a small, plain phial out and carefully set it down. Muriel furrowed her brows. It didn't look like much, but the way he was treating it with kid gloves, its content was surely either rare, expensive or dangerous. Or all at once. Either way, it didn't answer her question, so she asked once more.
"I am not entirely sure about the full recipe...", he admitted after a moment of hesitation that only showed how much he disliked it.
Control freak..., she mused and hid her grin behind the cup.
"...but the main and most important component is moon sugar."
Wait... what?
Muriel's gaze darted back down to the tea she had just drunk from and then back up to the Justiciar's face before letting the warm liquid run back over her lips and into the mug. He looked amused.
"Moon sugar's a highly potent psychedelic substance and while in Elsweyr it is used in daily life, interesting for us is its role in spiritual journeys and rituals. For the Khajiit it's a way to... commune with the moons, as they say. The potion is composed in a way to renew links the mind has cut off to... well, some believe to the Dreamsleeve, others have their doubts about it, but either way it is suppose to allow rational analysis", he rattled off and, like she hadn't just spit out tea in front of him, reached for his own cup and took a sip. "At least in theory – and no, I didn't spike the tea."
He smirked at her grimace as she put the cup down and for good measure also pushed it far, far away from her reach.
"Wouldn't put it past you...", she muttered and he chuckled.
For a while, they stayed silent. Muriel stared at the phial between them and tried to wrap her mind around what he had just told her. To be fair, rational analysis did sound like something the Thalmor considered worth striving for. They were masters when it came to rationalizing horrible things most others tried their best to forget. She could feel his eyes on her. She knew he was waiting for her to response, but each time she opened her mouth, she found no words to voice her bafflement. After the third attempt she was sure to look as stupid as she felt.
"You have questions, I believe." Armion put his tea back down with an expression like he was talking about the weather and not like he had just suggested a potion whose usage was probably somewhere in a dark-grey zone of legality.
"So many", she said faintly. "Why do you even have moon sugar?"
"I found the Khajiit's stash the bandits were looking for. I had some unexpected free time, you see."
Muriel knew right away which Khajiit he was talking about. That the bandits had been proven right weren't the news she wanted to hear, but there was nothing she could do about it. And the more pressing matter right now was the innocent flask between them anyway. He seriously wanted her to drink this? Was he mad?
"Are you mad?", she voiced her thoughts out loud. "You want me to take drugs? To what – to send my mind to Sovngarde once more?"
"Don't be foolish", he scolded her mildly. "If such a thing was possible, there'd be even more addicts trying to reach other realms – not that they aren't already taking Skooma for that reason. No, I simply want you to remember going to another realm, without the restrictions your concious memory imposes on you. And like I said, you willingness is essential. It will allow me to intervene more freely – because with doing this willingly, you should stay responsive. If I just slipped the potion into your tea, it would surely take its full effect... but what use is it to me if you end up curled up in a corner with a mental breakdown?"
His indifference made her shift uncomfortably in her chair. This outlook wasn't very convincing. All her life, Muriel had drawn the line after anything harder than wine and mead. It wasn't necessarily because of the way she had been raised – no one had bothered to warn her about how bad drugs were because it had never played a role in her family's life – but more because she knew deep down inside, how easy it was for someone like her to fall for them. And how tempting it was.
"So... you want me to take drugs... under your supervision?", she asked once more. How reassuring. "Next you want me to believe that the Thalmor use this... this potion on their own. It would explain a few things, but seriously, Armion... did you fall off the carriage one too many times as a child?"
He rolled his eyes. "I admit, up to now it is still in the early stages of development, so to say. The alchemist I spoke to, he's a friend..."
Like you have any friends!
"...and he's convinced of the idea, but higher authorities still have to give their permission for a field study."
"I'm not your test subject!", she grumbled and crossed her arms. This idea sounded worse by the minute. She preferred her nightmares and sleep deprivation over this any time. It wasn't just the possibility of being addicted for the rest of her life, who knew what that poisoner had put into the phial. She could easily end up as a drooling dumpling depending on what that potion did to her mind.
"Muriel...", he sighed and sounded a little tired. "If I wanted to harm you, I had plenty of opportunity in the past."
Yes, she was awfully aware of that. And not for the first time she wished for a way to see what the Thalmor had been up to while she had been unconcious. Apart from searching every crack and corner of the cottage apparently, until finding the hidden stash of moon sugar had surely brought a smile of triumph to his face. She was sure, he had smiled. He was the kind of person who just loved finding fault with anything and anyone and as someone whose whole life was dedicated to searching for the fly in the ointment, it had surely been the highlight of his week.
"Don't you think you owe me an explanation after nearly breaking my jaw?", Armion changed his course and put his tea down. Muriel shook her head. She knew he was exaggerating again, for the last time he had mentioned it, it had merely been 'hitting' and he had no reason to play things down.
"Are you sure that wasn't intentional?", she asked and smiled weakly. "Sounds to me like my subconcious works just fine..."
"Since you also held my hand like your life depended on it, I highly doubt that."
Under his smug smile, she first paled, then blushed deeply. To her shame, she immediately believed him. The shock when he had conjured the orb of light at the city gate had been hard to digest already, but the darkness of her dreams was not this easily chased away. If it were this simple, a single candle would be enough to ease her rest – and she had tried that already. Despite the cruelty of his words, she knew they were true. The only question left was why on Nirn he hadn't brought it up right away if enjoyed watching her squirm this much?
"I really appreciate the offer", she said and tried to keep her voice as unaffected as possible. "But this is exactly why I'd prefer to do this with someone else, thank you very much..."
With the cool smile of someone seeing right through her mask, Armion shook his head. "I'm afraid that's impossible. You either take this potion under my supervision or not at all."
For a few moments she just searched his eyes – for confirmation of her mistrust, for a convincing reason to change her mind and basically place her life into his hands, for a hint of truth or maybe a sign of a deeper lie, but none of it showed. She shook her head.
"Then no", she said. "I won't drink it. I can't."
Only the gods knew why she sounded apologetic. With a firmer voice, she added, "I think we're done for today", and quickly stood up.
Armion looked slightly disappointed when he leaned back in his chair, but he didn't try to stop her when she turned around and left the study.