Guide:

Dwemeris

Thoughts

"Speech"

"Dovahzul"

Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4

Chapter Warning(s): Transition chapter, fluff, dialogue-heavy.

A/N at the bottom. This chapter is a self-indulgent filler, I swear.

Last time… We spend until late at night discussing the book by Septimus Signus, and even if the man is rumoured to be batty, I absolutely must meet him. I have more and more of a feeling that he will be very helpful in getting me to my goal.

Chapter 52 – Light-hearted

At least, even though I am confined to an infirmary bed, I don't feel as if I'm wasting a lot of time. Between studying and deciphering the work of Signus, explaining any possible findings to Ondolemar and Marcurio, writing all I know of Dovahzul on piles upon piles of parchment, including their Word Wall locations, reassuring Lydia that I'll be fine, and entertaining several other guests, I have my hands full.

Five days pass in the blink of an eye, and then Colette walks in with the news I've been aching to hear: "You're free to leave the room, but you'll have to get a check-up once you return from Septimus Signus' Outpost and… Do try to take it easy."

Marcurio is following a class in advanced Destruction magic and Ondolemar has headed deeper into Winterhold to speak with someone who caught his interest there. Lydia is off training some novice mages how to wield a knife, alongside Jenassa, of all people, who'd been hired to keep a closer eye on safety within the college.

Which leaves me with the problem that is a lack of companions. Especially since I'm required to inform one of them before leaving the college thanks to Colette and thus, I'm stuck here for now.

Well. I suppose there is one thing I may do at the College before trying to track down anyone else. They're not expecting me out of bed for at least another two days anyway. I believe Onmund is in his quarters at this time of day, so I might as well get one of my duties over with.

Luckily, it's a duty to a friend, not to Nirn, and I'd be glad if I could aid him. Give him some security.

Upon entering the courtyard, the first thing to catch my eye is the new addition to it: a dragon corpse. Fully whole and kept in place with thick magical bindings as one of the teachers bends over the snout, making notes almost feverishly, a manic gleam in his eye.

Pity I can't control my soul-devouring tendencies. I think humorously to myself. Because I wouldn't be able to let the poor man have his research time.

As I pass by, the dragon dissolves into small particles of light, its soul being torn from its body to be 'devoured' by me. I let the energy wash over my dispassionately, continuing my easy stroll unfazed as the teacher lets out a cry of dismay behind me.

The act of nonchalance takes a significant amount of self-control, as the now familiar pounding headache lingers a little longer than usual due to my bad condition.

"My research!"

I stifle a snort as I walk into the main building at a slightly quicker pace, bursting into snickers when I pass a group of awe-struck, slack-jawed mage students. They must be new, since I met most of the mages that were around before the Magnus crisis. "Dragonborn", one of them whispers reverently. I glance over my shoulder at the Breton that spoke, and she flinches back.

I want to growl at her. I am not a museum display to be gawked at. Play nice. I have to play nice.

I plaster a small smirk on my face and give her a conspiratory wink. To my shock, she blushes and looks away, and I move up the stairs while pondering the odd phenomena.

I suppose people will always have a certain attraction for those they consider powerful. Or, of course, she was just embarrassed at being caught. I would be embarrassed too.

On another note.

Too many stairs. Too many. Why not build a lift? Note to self: have Onmund build a proper Dwemer lift in this place. It can only serve to brighten up the place.

I finally find the young Arch-Mage in his quarters, standing inside a small garden and carefully harvesting some Canis root. A concoction is brewing at the alchemy lab, J'zargo hovering over it with a swishing tail as he grounds something into fine powder.

Feline ears momentarily twitch in my direction, the Khajit blinking at me lazily and nodding once in recognition before returning to his work with renewed focus. Onmund rises as I approach slowly, giving me a beaming grin.

"Fjaldi!"

He sounds genuinely surprised to see me, and I give the Nord a small smile. "I'm glad to see you've regained your health! Especially after the state you were in when you arrived."

My smile turns a little strained for a few moments before I let the edge of my annoyance at the world soften. "And I am glad to see you are doing fine, as well, since we parted under such uncertain conditions last time. You've grown." I state warmly, watching the youth as his facial expression shifts between several unidentifiable emotions swiftly.

The bear hug is entirely unexpected, and I return it a little awkwardly as my shoulder is still rather stiff. "So how have you been?" tumbles over my lips, and Onmund steps back before giving me a glare.

At least, I think it's meant to be a glare. It really makes him look more like a pissed-off kitten though.

"What… You can't be serious right now." He mutters, "You were carried here, comatose after being injured fighting necromancers of all things unholy, and then you come here and ask me how I've been?" Snickering, the Nord shakes his head in disbelief.

J'zargo saunters over slowly, having set the alchemical experiment aside safely. "Onmund has been good." He purrs, standing closer behind the Arch-Mage than strictly necessary, his tail curling loosely, possessively, around the other's waist. "Oh yes, this one believes the little Alteration mage overworks himself too much. Works too much to have fun with J'zargo as we did before the Magnus mess."

A deaf man wouldn't have missed the innuendo in his voice.

I make a small choked sound as Onmund lights up like a beacon, swatting his… boyfriend? Partner? Lover?

"Well, I, uh thanks for informing me." I deadpan, rolling my eyes with a small twitch of my lips. At least the tension has dissipated a little.

"So what's your next plan, Fjaldi?" Onmund asks after a few seconds pass in awkward silence.

Now that's the million septims question, isn't it? What is the plan?

I tap my chin with my finger, looking at the fairy lights dancing around the small garden but not really seeing them as I get lost in thought for a few moments, piecing together something resembling a structure to what I'll do next. There's no shortage of things to do, after all.

"There's a dragon corpse littering your courtyard. I will make new armour for myself, Lydia and Marcurio if there are enough scales and an anvil available. The corpse seems to be an Elder Dragon, so plenty of material should be available. Then I'll visit the Jarl to get that damned helmet delivered. After that, I'll be dragging Marcurio and Lydia to Septimus Signus' Outpost. But right now…"

This is it.

"I'm asking for your help." The Arch-Mage tilts his head in wonder before nodding determinedly. "Anything for the one who helped me save Winterhold."

I chuckle nervously. "You may not want to say that so quickly. I've heard you're keeping the Thalmor out of the college." He nods again, a little more confused and worried now.

"…You're not going to ask me to invite one, are you?" He asks hesitantly.

"No! No, definitely not!" I hurriedly exclaim, eyes going wide in disgust at the thought of another spy undermining every mage here. "Perish the thought! No… Uhm… How do I go about this? My friend Lyonmelar, you've seen him?"

"I have." He's guarded now, shit, shit, shit!

Well, I have little to lose. Onmund nor J'zargo will blab to the Thalmor about this, even if they refuse to house my friend.

"He needs sanctuary. He's on the run from the Thalmor and has wished to study magic in peace for as long as I've known him. I thought to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, by having him study here, if possible. The Thalmor are actively after him, so you might have to pull crazy stunts to keep him hidden when any come knocking but I was really hoping you'd…"

Onmund raises a hand.

I fall silent immediately, resenting the sensation of feeling like little more than a ball of nerves and anxiety.

"Alright. We'll take him in. On one condition."

That is not how Onmund would have reacted prior to Labyrinthian. He's become more mature with all those responsibilities he's taken on himself. I approve.

I see he's learned to play the game.

Now, it is my turn to nod determinedly. "What is it?" I do hope it's nothing bad.

"When you're done deciphering the works of Signus and the Dovahzul language, I want you to donate all your notes to the college."

Oh sh- Wait. That's actually really manageable. I can do that.

"You have yourself a deal."

It seems like a weight falls of my shoulders, and my legs turn unsteady underneath me to the point that I stumble and sink down against the wall. A sigh of relief passes my lips as it seems I can finally relax a little. "You've no idea," I choke out roughly when the two hurry over to check if I'm alright, "No comprehension of how thankful I am right now."

They just grin, J'zargo staying flush against Onmund's side since he has likely figured out I've no problems with it, and only now does it really catch my attention to how openly they are acting now, compared to what I've seen outside of this room, now that the worries about Ondolemar have passed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you two aren't married, are you?" I ask carefully, frowning lightly when they merely exchange glances.

J'zargo shrugs. "This one would not mind, but…"

Onmund sighs deeply, moving to entwine their hands absently as he presses his lips into a thin line darkly. "Here in Skyrim, while two males marrying is not frowned upon as harshly as in other regions, interracial marriage between a Nord and a Khajit is…" He shakes his head sadly, looking down, and I regret stumbling upon what's clearly an uncomfortable point.

"Who can officiate marriages in Skyrim? And what are the requirements?"

I just happen to know a priest of Mara who may be willing to help…

Onmund glances at J'zargo, and they seem to have a quiet conversation, perfectly attuned to each other and for a heartbeat, I feel jealous that Marcurio and I still need words between us. To be fair, we've not even kissed, and these two are… Well, by Dwemer standards, they are surely married.

"A priest of Mara officiates marriage ceremonies." Onmund starts slowly, eyeing me warily, "And there are only three requirements otherwise, really. A shrine of Mara, two wedding bands, and the consent of both parties that wish to marry."

"Any priest of Mara? Even if they are not affiliated with the Temple in Riften?" I press, thinking about those errands I ran for the temple not too long ago, when I passed through to see if Erandur was still there. Thinking about what Dinya had said to me, and how one of my duties now is to ensure love in Skyrim can still thrive.

I am basically a certified matchmaker. I wouldn't mind helping these two if Erandur can officiate the ceremony.

Another exchange of significant looks.

"Well, it's rare, but I'm sure it can be done" Onmund says after a pregnant pause. "But there's been… Why would you… You mean Erandur, don't you?"

"If that priest is willing to bind us…" J'zargo purrs, eyes narrowing at me. "We have no shrine or rings."

I give the Khajit a face-splitting grin. "Oh dear me, you seen to forget you're talking to a Forgemaster. I'll need an Amulet of Mara, and a couple ingots… I'm thinking one gold, one silver, two refined malachite."

"…What do you need a gold ingot for? I do not believe it is part of any shrine." Onmund asks hesitantly, but something in his eyes gleams with hopeful excitement.

"Well… You obviously can't have a marriage without the rings." I drawl smugly, watching their faces light up hesitantly.

And since it's for friends…

"Send for Erandur, the priest of Mara in Dawnstar. He's a good friend of mine, and should agree to come the second you mention my name. We can have the ceremony here at the college the moment he gets here. Judging by travel time, it'll be at about the moment I get back from the Outpost."

I give them a winning grin.

J'zargo mirrors it with sharp-tipped teeth. "Now that is a plan this one likes!"

…

Before the day is over, I have acquired yet another title of 'Thane', in yet another hold. I'm close to losing track of all the titles people constantly press upon me, but as things are, any political weight counts, and any hold supporting me is another hold that might be convinced about the ridiculousness of the Civil War, so I count it as a bonus.

Also, making wedding bands was the easiest, if one of the oddest, things I've done in weeks! Why rings and not beads or even a piercing? Rings get in the way so often…

The dragon corpse is dismantled and summarily forged into armour. Don't get it wrong, I'd appreciated the scale set that lasted me since leaving Solitude, but nothing makes me feel safer than having a set of well-tempered, well-fitted Dragonscale armour on me and Lydia. Marcurio has to settle for bracers, but as he knows defensive spells, he doesn't mind.

The process of retrieving an anvil from the Jarl's personal storage is a drag, though.

Speaking of which, it is both fantastic and terrifying to have the mage at my side again. Our relationship is… new. I'm out of my depth, and I don't have the luxury of stumbling on uncertain footing on any front right now.

Romance is more complicated than my naïve, pre-Marcurio self ever gave it due credit for.

…At least Ondolemar is ecstatic. The Altmer gives me a smile when we come across one another in the entry hall. A genuine, broad smile that's almost a grin. It looks weird on his face even as he clutches a stack of blank pages securely to his chest, bearing a striking resemblance to Aicantar in that one moment.

"Thank you, friend." I return the grin easily, surely imagining the choked-off emotions in the elf's voice.

"Sure thing. Stay safe now… And have fun exploring the Arcanum." I end somewhat sourly, irritated at the fact that even now, I still haven't visited the infamous library.

I suppose I'll never get there at all. Maybe it's for the best. Gods know I will stay in there until I've read all the books available, and I don't have the time for that right now. Maybe I should start my own library. Get a house. I mean, I have Hjerim, and Breezehome and Proudspire Manor, but… None of those feel like home.

It would be nice to have a place to retreat to, somewhere outside city walls. Something small to call home. Or perhaps a mansion, if I ever get my hands on necessary materials and helping hands.

It will have to wait. For now, I had ice banks to climb over and freezing, deadly waters to avoid in an effort to find the cave where the insane, reclusive, brilliant man called 'Septimus Signus' has hidden himself away for the past years.

A shiver runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold. Ugh. I wonder why I'm having such a terrible feeling about this. My instincts never let me down before, so rather than wondering IF things will go sideways…

I should probably wonder how badly.

A/N:

Alright, following the previous chapter I got several reviews and PM's about some continuity and lore issues in that chapter. First of all: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for alerting me to it!

For the one guest asking after Dwemer skin colours: I base my Dwemer skintones more on a blue/greyscale than gold. This is because in the Dwemer concept art they're also shown as having blue skin. I'd love it if someone would point out to me the chapter I described them as gold, so I can solve that issue right away! Note: I will also look myself, since I'm revising the first few chapters for other, smaller mistakes.

I'll also re-evaluate my description of Septimus' book, since I got my stars confused (Thank you TichePotato for pointing me in the right direction!) and re-upload that somewhere by the end of the week.

Then, for some bad news: THIS STORY MIGHT GET TAKEN DOWN OR NO LONGER BE UPDATED DUE TO ARTICLE 13 OF EUROPEAN PRIVACY POLICIES, which will be either accepted or not on July 4th. These articles are meant to CENSOR INTERNET CONTENT and prevent people from uploading copyrighted content. This ranges from newspaper articles, to book quotes, to memes and fan-written stories that take information from copyrighted sources without permits.

That said, I do not know the full scope of the consequences of the Article, and in how far it will actually affect this story. I merely wished to give you all a heads up in case freedom of speech in Europe is compromised anywhere this week. Thanks for reading, please let me know your thoughts, and I hope to see you all next week!