Guide:

Dwemeris

Thoughts

"Speech"

"Dovahzul"

Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4

Chapter Warning(s): Bothersome fluff. Rare Pair.

A/N: This unedited piece of crap took way longer than I expected to write. I hope you all enjoy regardless!

Last time…

My vision blackens, spins, and then the ground comes up to meet me in spurts, as my legs give out and I collapse onto my knees, catching myself with my hands before the ice comes up to meet me and the world fades out.

Chapter 54 – Mara's Influence

"At last."

I groan, my vision shifting back into focus slowly.

I can't look left, or right, not down or up. Couldn't, even if I wanted to. In front of my face I see two glowing eyes cast in a dim blue light. Red and cruel, set in sharp, pitch black scales and for a moment I am horribly reminded of Alduin, but it passes when I observe closer, see that the eyes are not malevolent, just tired. They aren't even red. They're a deep, emerald green.

They slowly blink at me. Corners shift, and I realise that what I see is not full reality, more like… A Dream.

Ugh. Gives me Vaermina flashbacks.

"You took longer than I had expected. Zu'u Lost Lingrah Saraan, Dovahkiin."

There is a… Dragon sitting in front of me. A friendly dragon that speaks Dwemeris. Now I know for sure I am dreaming.

"You are Vulthuryol, aren't you?" I ask carefully, holding the creature's gaze as steadily as I can. I've no time to think on how I got to be in this situation.

"Geh. Zu'u Los Vulthuryol. Dark Fire King, in your tongue. I have waited long for you to find the Key to Fal Zhardum Din, Dovahkiin. You must Siiv - find me."

"So you have told me." I mumble, thinking on all the visions I had so far. "You've been sending me… Visions. Like the time I took Marcurio and Erandur with me into Nchuand-Zel. Were you also the man in the purple robes? I dreamt of him the night I was… Displaced."

The dragon tilts his head before shaking it, and even though this is a dream I can feel short gusts of wind caress my cheeks and play with my hair. Vulthuryol looks… Younger than Paarthurnax. Not as ragged. His scales, tiny as my fingernails around his eyes and nose, shimmer under the blue light. His eyes aren't covered in white film, instead glowing with some inner fire, that seems… dulled. Exhausted. It's the only place where I can detect Vulthuryol's true age, and it's… unsettling.

"Vomindok. It is unknown to me who this… Man was. I am no Jul and do not possess such a form. Krosis, but if I did not wish it were so."

He wishes he had a mortal form?

"How so? Is it part of why you needed my help?"

The gargantuan dragon once more shakes his head, little wisps of smoke escaping his nostrils though I do not smell it as he almost seems to… sigh.

"Nid. Zu'u Gahvon Grik Hahnu Tiid Vod. I gave up on such dreams ages ago, Dovahkiin. There is no escape from Fal Zhardum Din for me. But that is not why I called you here. Piraak Hin Haal. I need your help."

What? "Aye, so you said. With what, then?"

Vulthuryol suddenly throws his head back and roars in rage, and I would have scrambled back had I had the ability to move at all. As it is, I only feel a spike of fear and yelp in surprise at the completely unexpected aggression.

The dragon turns his gaze back to me, smouldering with rage now, but not at me.

"Zu'u Los Deinmaar Tum-Qethsegol. I am protector of Fal Zhardum Din. Your Joorre Kiin, Tumgol, have caged me and taken that which I was to protect: Dovah Kel. Now, they are gone, replaced by Mahlaan Fahliil. I cannot keep the Fallen from the Kel forever."

"Descend into the Deep. Gaar Mir. Free me. Free me and retrieve the Kel. I will give Aak. Show you how to. Only you can do this task, Only Dovahsil can bear its burden."

He rears back once again, eyes still so tired, so downtrodden, and so harshly reminding me of the face I see reflected in the water when I am so, so tired of my duties and responsibilities.

"I will find you, Vulthuryol. And I will help." I vow solemnly as the world starts to fade around me, the last things I see being green, green glowing eyes.

The next things I know I'm looking into a pair of concerned brown eyes instead.

"…Di, Fjaldi? Oh, thank the gods you're awake! You suddenly passed out! What the hell was that?" Marcurio exclaims worriedly, helping me to stand up and brushing off the snow like a fussy mother hen.

Somehow, I think that "I talked to a dragon in a dream and we're going to save him" will be an acceptable excuse.

As if on cue, my shoulder twinges sharply and I flinch, grabbing at it instinctively. Two pairs of eyes fly to the movement immediately, and Lydia curses harshly, taking up my other side as we make our way back to the College.

"My Thane, we will have a healer look at you again. It seems your injury was acting up." She says sharply, and I merely nod as if agreeing, seeing the woman hand the Attunement Sphere over to Marcurio, who stuffs it in his sack.

I relax marginally. It will be safe with him.

…

Winterhold is a hundred times more merry than I ever remember it being. When we cross the bridge, Marcurio shepherds me over to the infirmary to get my injury checked on before leaving to catch Erandur, even as Jenassa falls into step with me to explain the situation with Lydia following us at a more sedate speed as she's not yet used to the punishing pace I normally set.

Perhaps I pushed myself a little too hard, I muse distractedly as the Dunmer explains that Erandur arrived and that the wedding was set to take place that evening.

"They wanted to wait until you got back from the wastes." She tells me as Colette looks me over and deems my injury aggravated, but not to the point that it's a health risk.

I give the mercenary a lopsided grin, secretly quite pleased that they all think so highly of me that they'd wait with their wedding. "So who else is here?"

Jenassa huffs and starts counting on her fingers with an aggravated noise. "Well, I suppose I may as well gives the names of everyone that walked in here in the last two days since you seem to have made connections all over Skyrim. There's me and Torvar, a member of the Companions who was also hired to protect this place. Lydia, of course. Then Marcurio and Lyonmelar, the wizards you brought in, and, naturally, every member of the College of Winterhold. Then the Priest of Mara Erandur and some Argonian called 'Veezara' who's been driving everyone up the walls asking for you."

It's like a bucket of ice has been thrown in my face. Veezara? Veezara is here?

"Now that's unexpected." Suppose I'll deal with him first, then. "Point him in my direction when you see him, alright? He's an ally."

She nods, but gives me a dark look. "If anything happens to you he's dead. He has this… Way about him. Be careful." With that, she's gone.

I sigh, starting to dig around in my pack. I carry my Dark Brotherhood gear with me at all times – I'm not about to make the same mistake I did back in Solitude. Then there's a spare set of bracers, a few ingots and jewels, gold and potions and…

Absolutely nothing to wear to a wedding.

The door to the little infirmary room everyone seems to have subconsciously dubbed as 'mine' opens again and I turn to the intruder with a growl on my lips and an insult on my tongue.

Only to pause in my tracks.

"Veezara." I greet as calmly as possible.

He nods solemnly in return. "Brother. We've been missing you back home."

I deadpan at the Argonian, shaking my head and turning to my pack. "I finished that contract. I've also been up to my neck in Dragonborn and Thane-related duties."

"I know. I've not been send here to reprimand you. Quite the contrary, actually. You handled Potema Septim… Exceptionally well. Astrid wanted me to come here to give you your pay for the contract, as well as a bonus for your swift reaction in dealing with an unexpected threat. She also wished me to tell you that you are free to return whenever you wish, since she has an interesting contract set up for you."

My grin, which had faded after being scared of having to deal with a pissed-off assassin, returns full-force. "Alright. Is there a reason you were send, and not, say, Nazir or Gabriella?"

The shadowscale startles, then shakes his head minutely. "Oh no, I just volunteered. There were no interesting contracts to be had and I grew bored. You were interesting. Hence, the volunteering."

I snicker softly, starting to put everything back in my knapsack. "Interesting? By Oblivion, Veezara, I wish I weren't! I've not even a single normal set of clothes to wear!"

Lydia takes that moment to poke her head into the room. Sensing the easy atmosphere between me and my… friend, she smiles carefully. "I could go out into Winterhold and see if anyone has clothing to spare. The Jarl, perhaps, may have a set for you, since you are a Thane here also, my Thane."

"Have I ever told you that you're a lifesaver?"

"Many times, my Thane."

"You're a lifesaver, just in case you didn't know."

"Thank you, my Thane." Her smile grows a little, pleased, before she shits the door carefully.

I scratch my head, looking at the assassin and tilting my head even as I start to undo the clasps on my bracers. "So, are you going to stick around for the wedding?"

He blinks slowly. "Actually, I was hoping to rest up a bit, first. I'd be glad to visit you tomorrow, though."

"Certainly. I will probably come by soon, after I manage to re-discover an ancient cavern system that caused several decades of war for my people."

The Argonian barks out a laugh, throwing out a parting comment over his shoulder as he leaves. "Guess I was right about you being interesting. Do tell me all about it once you come home."

I sit down to wait for Lydia's return, and with 'sitting down' I really mean 'drop flat on my back on the bed with one leg dangling off, throwing an arm over my eyes with a groan of misery.'

"Why is my life so complicated?" I ask aloud, to nobody in particular, or maybe to the gods who seem intent on ruining any and every chances I may have had at settling and having a semi-normal life here in Skyrim.

"Perhaps because you are lying down when you should be preparing, in this case, for a wedding, my Thane." Lydia comments smartly as she barges back into the room without preamble. I give her a half-hearted glare, only to settle for raising an eyebrow at the large stack of items she is carrying with her.

"I could have been undressed."

"It is not something I have never seen before, my Thane. I served with the Whiterun guards for three years before being sworn to your service, after all." She snickers as I scrunch my nose in distaste at aforementioned guard's lack of decorum.

"And as your Housecarl, it is my duty to ensure you are presentable for formal events such as the one you are about to be late for."

I'm late for the wedding? I haven't even spoken to Erandur yet… Speaking of which, should I take him on the expedition? That would make a group of four: Me, Marcurio, Lydia and him. Should I give Jenassa the offer to come along? Perhaps five people is a bit much for a covert operation… Wouldn't want the Thalmor to catch wind of an Elder Scroll hunt going on.

I suppose I should first focus on the wedding. I let out another forlorn groan before fighting my way upright, eyeing the stack of clothing worriedly.

"…You're not going to have me wear all of that, are you?"

Lydia just grins. "Until we settle on something appropriate, my Thane." I swallow thickly. Oh boy.

She even has me stand on a stool like I am a child.

After no less than four different robes, two types of fine clothing in two colours each, three tunics and even something that more resembled a dress, Lydia had finally settled on putting me in a set of patterned green robes, as fine clothing apparently makes me look uncomfortable.

Jeez, I am so terribly sorry for not having the fondest memory of the last times I wore any item of clothing more pricey than ten septims – that being the incident at the Thalmor Embassy and Vicci's reception. I grumble to myself, but since Lydia technically is not supposed to know about the Thalmor Embassy Incident, I keep my reservations to myself and accept the green robes.

"Green looks good on you. It complements your yellow eyes and dark hair." She comments candidly, making some final adjustments. It does?

"Uhm… thank you..?" I mutter somewhat self-consciously, hating myself for the traitorous thought of 'will Marcurio like it', that echoes through my head.

She gives me a strange half-smile even as she sews the hem of the robe to make it shorter. "I was trained to be a Housecarl to either a male or female Thane. If you ever need a seam stitched up, give me a holler."

"Why the sudden change of attitude? You're usually so… Frigid." I ask uncertainly, hoping that the comment won't cause her to stab me with the needle that is, I now know, a standard part of her equipment.

She packs up her gear and neatly makes a stack out of the discarded clothing before replying. "Merely a love for weddings, my Thane. Speaking of which, you will miss the ceremony in the Arch Mage's Quarters if you do not leave… About now."

I curse even as I hop awkwardly to the door on one leg, not having my second shoe fully on my foot. "Damnit Lydia!" And to make things worse, because of course, it could and would get worse, I slam straight into Marcurio when the wizard opens the door just as I make to sprint through it, the collision sending us both tumbling out into the hallway, the mage's back hitting the stone with a muffled 'oomph'.

"I'm so sorry." I breathe, panicking inside at the pained expression that briefly crosses my favourite Imperial's face.

"It's alright, I wanted to come pick you up since you took so long." He wheezes. I scramble to get off him, reaching down and grabbing his hand to help him get up. When I make to let go of him, though, the mage twists our hands and laces our fingers together unabashedly, without as much as a by-your-leave.

I… uh, what? This, just… huh?

I find myself in a rare state of speechlessness, staring wide-eyed at our joined eyes even as a fiery blush starts to burn my face and ears. When I move my gaze up to meet Marcurio's warm eyes, not really knowing what to do and trying to force out something intelligible anyway, the wizard only grins mischievously at my indignant spluttering.

"Shall we?"

As he drags me with him, our hands still intertwined, I can hear Lydia's laughter follow us all the way to the main courtyard.

…

"It was Mara that first gave birth to all of Creation and pledged to watch over us, as her children. It is from her love of us, that we learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that to live life alone, is no life at all. We are all gathered here today under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls…"

The speech Erandur holds is shorter than what I'm used to from Dwemer marriage festivals, but then again, a wedding in Skyrim joins only two souls at a time. I'm too distracted to hear all of it as we stand to the side alongside the other people at the College - even Ondolemar chose to attend, standing in a shadowy corner, on his own but radiating contentedness.

Marcurio holds my hand throughout the entire ceremony, even as Onmund and J'zargo pledge themselves to each other, big smiles on their faces the entire time.

It's a strangely pleasant sensation, warm and comforting. At some point, he starts to draw small circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, it makes the tips of my ears tingle, but I let him do it, unable to fight off the small smile on my face.

It's a small ceremony overall. Held in the quarters of the Arch Mage, in front of the garden in the centre, a table has been placed with a shrine of Mara on top of it. Chairs and benches have been dragged from all over the room to give the older occupants of the College a place to sit, but most people in the small gathering choose to stand.

After they exchange rings and receive loud cheers and congratulations, Marcurio finally lets go of my hand in order to give his own congratulations to the new happy couple.

I listen in half-heartedly, clenching and unclenching my fingers as I look down at them, already missing the warmth of his hand there. Then J'zargo, the ever-observant bastard, of course has to make a sly comment that draws my full attention.

"This one noticed that J'zargo and Onmund are not the only ones in a relationship. J'zargo had figured you two would end up together. He even wrote so in the letter, right, Onmund?"

The other half of the newlywed couple laughs. "I believe the exact words were a bit different, but yes, I think you mentioned it." The blonde Nord turns to Marcurio, then. "So, how long has it been? Are you married, too? I don't see any rings on either of you."

The Imperial chuckles somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at me with a questioning gleam in his eyes. 'Will you come help me out here?' it asks, and I allow a lopsided grin to tug at my lips as I join the small group, still mostly in the centre of the attention.

Whatever is said here will go directly into the rumour mill, I just know it. Damnit, there goes my plan to keep a target off Marcurio's back.

…He can protect himself though, when push comes to shove. I allow the reassuring thought to relax me. "Congratulations, you two. May you live a long and blessed life together."

They both chuckle. "We will, I assure you. And we owe it to you. Thanks, thanks again for helping us." Onmund says in a low voice, and I give him a friendly pat on the back before waiting for the unavoidable questions brimming in their every movement to bubble up to the surface in the shape of words.

"So?" The Nord, always the better talker when it did not come down to discussing magical theory and accomplishments, prompts after a pause.

I exchange glances with Marcurio before answering carefully. "We are together, aye. But… We're not married." Yet, I tack on to the end in the private sphere of my mind, because I'm not used to this, and I'm unsure, and probably a terrible romantic partner.

"Fjaldi's culture is a great deal different from the one here." Marcurio interjects my mental worrying smoothly, "I'm happy to wait until he's comfortable." I can only smile faintly and nod as the two young mages turn to me in askance.

"Really? Wow, it must be really different from modern Tamriel, then! J'zargo told me that in Elseweyr, Valenwood, Cyrodill... Pretty much everywhere except in Alinor, courtships take only a few months, at most."

I clear my throat, not noticing Erandur coming closer and listening in as I explain: "My kin made a big deal out of courtships. It could last several years – one memorable case took seven – and involves a lot of mutual gift giving and gaining the approval of at least one person you consider family, as they are the one to make your marriage public on the day of the Marriage festival. Aye, festival. We have all the weddings on one day in the year, the first day of Spring."

I let the new information sink in, and J'zargo lets out an impressed whistle. "But wait, this one does not understand. If two Dwemer are announced to have been married before the festival, how are they married?"

I open my mouth to give him the answer before his question fully registers. When it does, I flounder, splutter, and feel a deep red colour my face all the way down to my neck. Gods, I can't even look Marcurio in the eye right now.

Looking everywhere but at the people listening, I manage to choke out a single word in a soft whisper: "Sex."

Stunned silence before Marcurio suddenly points an accusing finger at me. "Ah-hah! So THAT'S why you were so angry back in Falkreath! You thought I'd married my one night stand!" He crows, somehow still talking in a soft voice. I nearly whine out loud in mortification, but I manage to get by through burying my face in my hands and nodding. I must look like a mountain flower, all dressed in green with a fiery red head.

"An understandable mistake. I don't imagine anyone saw the need to explain our resident Dwemer about the cultural differences. He seems to pick them up and adapt to new situations admirably fast as it is." Erandur suddenly comes into the conversation

"Thanks." I mutter, the words a little strangled by embarrassment. I hadn't even noticed him listening in..?

The priest of Mara clears his throat, but I can just spot the stifled, cheeky grin he's trying to hide behind his fist. The grin is revealed, unrepentant, when the Dunmer sees that I've caught him. I give him my most deadpan stare, but to my exasperation, it makes no impact.

"Is there anything else you need me for while I am here? I have not made any plans to return to Dawnstar yet, just in case, as the notice I had received mentioned you finding a lead to the defeat of Alduin..?"

I nod, eager to get off the topic. "Aye. The information I wish to share isn't for public consumption, however. We may want to relocate to a more… Secure location. What I can say is that I am organising an… excavation, of sorts. I will need you, Marcurio, and Lydia. Possibly someone else. It's… a big project, but I think we might be better off with a small group, as it has to stay under wraps – the Thalmor can, under no circumstance, find out about this. Neither can the Empire, or the Stormcloaks. It's that dangerous."

The dunmer chuckles wryly. "I have faced Daedric Princes. I believe I can handle whatever you wish to throw yourself into. I believe I will join you." I give him a thankful smile, and Onmund snickers.

"Sounds like stories I wish to hear, even if they're terrible business. Anyway, you're free to use our rooftop. The tallest tower has winds so loud it's impossible to listen in. Sometimes even when the participants of a conversation are screaming abuse at each other. And, Fjaldi? Thanks again. If there's ever anything we can do for you, feel free to just ask."

I hold up a hand as if to ward him off, smiling fondly at the youth. "We're friends. Also, if anything, I owe you for taking a large problem off my chest. Lyonmelar needed a place to stay badly, and I could hardly bring him along with me, as I regularly visit places like Solitude and Windhelm, neither of which would be very… accommodating."

"I see." Onmund nods again, with a solemnity that comes from fully understanding. He's matured so much since I first met him – being Arch-mage must be hard on him, but also good for him.

…

Everyone has left, and Marcurio and I have made our way to the rooftop. It's freezing cold, a harsh wind cutting up my lips as I try to part them, or so it feels. I stare up at the grey sky, clouds rolling over each other like waves crashing into the beach. The weather is unruly, but not impossible to bear. I'm long happy that it's dry.

We stand in companionable silence for a few moments as we wait for the others to arrive. I'm content to remain that way. The Imperial mage has other ideas.

Marcurio bites his lip. Gives me a once-over. Then grins roguishly, and I dread to hear what he's thinking.

"You, back in Falkreath… You were jealous, weren't you?"

"Oh, shut up."