Chapter 9

The Embassy Job

XxXxXx

Nevano sat in the corner of the Winking Skeever, nursing a cup of brandy. It wasn't mazte or sujamma but it was better than the overly sweet mead or the horse piss they called beer. In all honesty the brandy was about the only thing that got him through the two months of bitter cold he had endured here in Solitude.

Despite the freezing cold temperatures and the bitter wind that blew in from the harbor, Nevano had really come to love Solitude. It was a lot fairer than he had imagined originally. He had obsessed over the Wolf Queen books when he was a child. It was history, very much true history, he knew but he had loved reading about the intrigue, the betrayal, the subterfuge and Potema turning Solitude into a monster sanctuary. It had put a mental image in his head that Solitude was dark and dingy with dark red skies streaked with lightning, the buildings blackened and burned and monsters growling in the corners. Solitude had had hundreds of years to rebuild from that dark time and Nevano was slightly disappointed that there wasn't even a bat flying around the Blue Palace.

The only thing Nevano couldn't stand was the overbearing Imperial presence in the city. Nevano was still incredibly sore over being arrested at the border, adding to his already jaundiced view. He wouldn't have lost Hopesfire and Trueflame if over zealous Imperial soldiers had taken the time to realize that a DUNMER wasn't likely to be a part of a NORD civil war, especially on the side that hated anyone NOT Nord! In a twist of irony that Nevano knew would be completely lost on the empire, being arrested and sentenced to death for doing nothing wrong had made him a bit sympathetic to the Stormcloak rebellion when before he would have ignored them all completely. It was an act that had happened time and time again throughout history: treat people badly and they'll turn to the very enemy you tried to drive them away from. Sadly, no one had yet to figure this out.

"Isn't drinking alone an unhealthy habit?"

Too tipsy to really care how ridiculous it looked, Nevano tipped his head backwards to look at the person addressing him upside down. He frowned. He recognized the Nord watching him with a raised eyebrow, the scraggly brown hair and green eyes but his slightly muddled brain was having a hard time clicking, especially while he was upside down…

"Gunjar? What are you doing here?" Nevano sat up too quickly, "Woah…"

"Apparently babysitting a drunk mer." Gunjar grinned as he sat down.

"Gotta survive the cold somehow. Not sure how you crazy Nords do this…" Nevano grunted, "And I'm not drunk. I don't get drunk. Give it a moment and this buzz will go away. It always wears off pretty quick."

"You don't get drunk?"

"Trust me I've tried." Nevano grumbled, tipping back the last of his cup, "I've had a lot of reasons to get drunk and deliberately tried my hardest to get drunk. Nothing. Gotta piss like a race horse afterwards but that's all I get out of it. Well, that and an empty septim pouch…"

"Goes straight through you." Gunjar snorted and helped himself to the rest of the brandy bottle, "Bet that makes you a drinking contest champion."

"I've won my fair share. This was my fourth. I give it fifteen minutes before I'm perfectly sober again." Nevano eyed his younger friend carefully, "So…what brings you here to fair Solitude? I thought you were busy battling dragons and meditating with old men on a mountaintop. I haven't heard of a dragon attacking a watchtower around here. I'll help you again but if it starts spitting frost like the last one I saw, your Norde arse is on its own."

Gunjar laughed, "No no, not directly dragon related." Nevano was a bit pleased to see he still had his sense of humor but he had been right; the wide-eyed child was gone, replaced by a man who was well aware of the hardships of the world.

"Not dragon related? On a vacation from your Dragonborn duties?" Nevano asked teasingly.

"I met…someone very interesting."

"Interesting as in female companionship interesting or Sheogorath has visited them recently interesting?" Nevano leaned back in his chair, smirking as Gunjar choked on his brandy.

"As in old history interesting."

"Oh." Nevano let his chair fall back on all fours with a thump, "That's not really as interesting."

"Blades. I met someone part of the Blades." Gunjar leaned in close, talking quietly, "She's been watching me since I got that dragonstone map from Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Did some sneaky bait-and-switch to get you to come to her then immediately made you do some dirty work for them and now you're here to do her bidding that she made you think would be in the best interest of your dragon quest?"

Gunjar's jaw dropped open, "I…well…"

"The Blades were disbanded in 4E 175 with the signing of the White-Gold Concordant. The Thalmor were given free rein to hunt them down and had pretty much wiped them out by 4E 200. I honestly didn't think any were left but it doesn't wholly surprise me to hear that some survived." Nevano crossed his arms, a little surprised at himself as he rattled off history like a scholar, "They serve the Dragonborn and all in the Septim line were Dragonborn because they were blessed by Akatosh and blah blah blah. That all came to a crashing halt during the Oblivion crises. No more Septims. They didn't serve Titus Mede or his son so I don't fully believe that he cared what the Thalmor did to them. However, I've been around long enough that I know the Blades. I know their little secret methods. It's nice that they have taken an interest in all this but they always give the nastiest jobs. They would RATHER you survive but survival is pretty optional as long as they get the information they want."

"You sound like you've worked for them before."

"I was inducted into the Blades once, long ago." Nevano glared at the table top, "I didn't go looking for it, it just happened. The worst assignments I was ever given in my life came from them. I ended up fairly high up in the Blades but once I was done I was done with them. Caius Cosades and I became fairly friendly with each other since he actually seemed to care if I lived or died but that was as far as it went. He got reassigned and I never saw him again. The Blades operate on secrecy and subterfuge. No wonder the Thalmor feared them enough to wipe them out."

"Well she's sending me into the Thalmor Embassy to look for evidence that they are connected to the dragons returning or not."

Nevano's ears perked up at that, all traces of his buzz disappearing quickly, "Really? The Thalmor Embassy…"

"Yeah. She seems to think that they had a reason to save Ulfric Stormcloak from the axe so they, I don't know, summoned a dragon in order to keep the war raging and the Empire busy."

"Yeah the Thalmor are neither that smart nor that capable for that." Nevano said dismissively. "And funny you should mention getting into the embassy. I need to get in there. Place is shut up like a fortress. I've been scouting it out as best I can between odd jobs. I can scale a tree and jump the fence but there's no point if I'm going to end up hacked, zapped and shot up with arrows by several dozen Thalmor fetchers."

"Why do you…oh your swords. Are you sure they're in there?"

"I finally caught wind of a rumor that the Thalmor found something of great historical importance." Nevano frowned at his now-empty bottle, "Great historical importance my ass…those are my damn swords! They saw those swords and knew exactly what they were. They have them holed up in there somewhere, I just know it. I want my swords back!"

"Ok. Well what is happening is that the Thalmor throw these little parties to basically convince everyone to like them…" Gunjar started to explain.

"Kiss ass, my innocent little friend, its called kissing ass." Nevano shook his head.

"Yes, well, that…" Gunjar coughed, "Anyway, I'm supposed to meet up with someone who will sneak some of my stuff in and Delphine got me an invitation. Not so sure how I'll sneak you in…"

"Don't worry about that." Nevano pulled out a rough map he had made of the embassy some weeks back, "I think the party you are talking about will be held in the smaller building here. It's like their guest building. Some soldiers and mages stay in here overnight but most retire to the big building over here. This courtyard has a few places to hide, some shrubs and trees but other than that it's open. If you can get away from the party you'll come out here, I can jump the fence and we'll continue from there together. But even with the party they probably won't slack their patrols. There's always patrols. There's more patrols here than I've seen even around the palace in Mournhold! But most stay around front where guests will be arriving. I'll bet I just gave you a lot more life saving information than that Blade did."

"Do me a favor and bring a few extra health potions for me?"

"I certainly will." Nevano grinned, feeling the old thrill of excitement of a crazy mission curl from his belly and spread up to his chest, making him giddy. This was the type of craziness and adventure he lived for!

"Well I need to make final preparations with…" Gunjar trailed off as Nevano suddenly got up and bolted out of the inn, "Oh yeah your pee thing…"

XxXxXx

Nevano hugged the tree trunk tightly, inching his way up every time the patrol wasn't looking in his general direction. He had gone ahead of Gunjar, taking a trail he had made several weeks ago up the mountain around north of the embassy. He had found only one tree that was close enough for him to make the leap over the fence. It was risky; being that close put him that much closer to being discovered by over zealous Thalmor and ruining not only his chances of finding his swords but also putting Gunjar's mission in jeopardy. He refused to allow that to happen so freezing his ass off climbing a frozen free, covered in snow in an attempt to blend in and not shooting the temptingly close Thalmor was the order until Gunjar came out.

Finally getting into position, Nevano closed his eyes to keep the patrols from noticing two bright gold points in the black and white landscape. He relied on his sensitive hearing to pinpoint exactly what was going on. The wind would rattle a loose roof shingle and shake the thistle bush by the small pine in the middle of the courtyard and carry the sounds in the courtyard straight to him. Three sets of boots crunched in the snow, two sets were heavier with armor were the soldiers and one light cloth pair of the mage who was wandering around behind the larger building. He was fairly certain there were four more Thalmor around the front of the building but the wind wasn't cooperating enough to send the sounds of their footsteps his way. However he was confident that if he and Gunjar could take out the three in the main courtyard quickly and silently, the other four wouldn't notice for a good long while. Long enough for them to complete their quests and be long gone anyway.

The door handle leading into the "party building", as Nevano had taken to calling it, began to rattle. Nevano felt the muscles in his legs tighten against the tree as his heart rate sped up in anticipation. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to wait patiently. He could just SEE a rather nasty red-eyed glare of a certain guild champion telling him to sit down, shut up and WAIT. Try as he might Modryn had never been able to fully distill patience in Nevano. Probably because he had had none himself.

Heavy steps, heavier than an elf. Definitely human. The way it was heavier on the heel than the toe suggested male. Carefully he opened his eyes until he could just make out a big bulky form from under his eyelashes. The dim winter light reflected off of a massive axe head above a shoulder. Nevano grinned. Definitely Gunjar.

As soon as the door swung shut behind the young Nord, Nevano jumped from the tree, landing lightly next to him.

"By the Nine…" Gunjar jumped, "You know it wasn't exactly easy leaving that party…warn a Nord next time yeah?"

"You know, I love parties." Nevano said, brushing snow off his cloak and hair, "But when I hate the hosts I spend most of my time making mischief."

"Should have sent you in instead of me."

"Oh the stories I'll share over a drink after this." Nevano grinned, "Now, come on. Let's go piss off some Thalmor."

With that the mer shoved Gunjar's head down and dropped down himself, following the short wall along to the center of the courtyard. Inwardly he sighed; the boy could sneak about as well as a drowning horse. He was having a hard time staying low and he kept walking heel-toe instead of walking on just his toes, making far more noise than necessary. Seeing how it was just the two of them alone in a compound full of Thalmor he could at least figure out that crunching snow was bad…

"Wait…" Nevano's voice was barely more than a whisper on the wind. He halted Gunjar with a touch to the shoulder and pulled out Bonebiter. The two soldiers were coming back towards them in their patrol. Their routes led on either side of the big building but they met in the middle at the same time. The mage was nowhere to be seen. It really wasn't ideal to drop two of them in the dead center of the courtyard with a third still around to raise the alarm but letting them go and waiting around to be caught was even worse. Growling to himself, Nevano swiftly put an arrow in each soldier's throat, Bonebiter's crushing power destroying windpipes and vocal chords. They dropped silently. He quickly pulled out a third arrow, searching for the mage.

A small flicker of movement caught the corner of his left eye and he twisted his head around just in time to meet the mage's eyes as he came around the corner of the building. For a long moment their eyes met, gold eyes met gold eyes, passing surprise, outrage and finally anger between them. Nevano pulled the bowstring taunt on the third arrow and let it fly just as the mage opened his mouth to shout a warning.

He missed.

Nevano's eyes went wide as his arrow merely cut a clean slice along the side of the mage's shoulder, cutting through cloth and skin. It bled, but it was a minor wound. Bonebiter hadn't been able to inflict its devastating power. Instead of crippling the mage, it punched through the stone pillar behind him, crumbling the stones and even bending the metal fence a little.

That was when all of Oblivion broke loose. The mage finished calling out a warning, powering up a spell as he did so. Lightning crackled at his fingertips and the smell of ozone cut through the cold wind. The four Thalmor that Nevano desperately didn't want to alert came pouring into the courtyard, three more soldiers and another wizard.

Gunjar jumped up, bellowing like a bull, and charged them, his massive axe already poised for the strike. Well, the boy had balls after all, Nevano thought to himself and he began to rapidly fire arrows off the wizards in an attempt to keep their attention on him and not the clashing warriors. Nevano had to move quickly to dodge the variety of ice and lightning spells being thrown at him. Unfortunately the Thalmor were smart enough to not use fire spells against him. Instead they kept chasing him with lightning and ice. They moved in tandem, one powering up a spell while the other cast, keeping up a steady barrage of magic at the fleeing dark elf.

Finally they messed up. They both paused in their attack at the same, allowing Nevano enough time to actually aim. His arrow stuck into one of the mage's collarbone. Normally not an immediate kill shot but as his bones began to snap and shatter, shredding everything in that side of his chest, it turned mortal quickly. The other mage hesitated a split second but that was all Nevano needed to take him down too. Nevano spun quickly to help Gunjar…

Only to be greeting by a giant, goofy, blood splattered smile as the Nord in question walked over to him, a bloody mess behind him all that was left of the three Thalmor soldiers.

"Here I thought that thing was only good for dragon hacking." Nevano deadpanned.

"Not so much." Gunjar shook his head, "Every time I think about trying for dragon steak the damn things turn to dust on me."

"You finally made a good joke!" Nevano snorted but he had to admit that dragon steak sounded REALLY good, "Next time we kill a dragon you just stay the hell away from it so I can see if we cant get a decent cut from it. Then you can do your little soul-sucking thing."

Moment of levity over they both turned towards the big building and headed in. Time to get this mission over with.

As they went inside they heard arguing. Nevano immediately tuned it out, instead turning his attention to the Thalmor who had his back turned to them. A quick arrow to the gap between his cuirass and helmet dropped him. With one hand he waved Gunjar to go take care of the room where the arguing was coming from while he made sure the rest of the floor was secure. In small rooms like that his bow was next to worthless and he didn't want to risk accidentally hitting Gunjar with an arrow.

Speaking of, Gunjar came walking back to him. "They got away. Some Thalmor called Rulindil is in a downstairs dungeon. They've got someone there they're interrogating."

"Right right, interrogate…" Nevano snipped, "I'll bet it's a cordial tea part down there."

"Come on. Let's search the office over there." Gunjar pointed, "There's got to be something of use there."

The little office alcove was messy, for an Altmer at least, but there were a few potions and valuables that Nevano swiftly pocketed. There was nothing to indicate his swords were here though. He couldn't feel them here.

"Found them!" Nevano sent a scathing glare at the Nord who at least at the grace to slap a hand over his mouth. At least he didn't slap his own mouth with the hand currently waving around a handful of small diaries.

"You can find a way out if you want." Nevano twisted his jaw in annoyance, "I'm not leaving yet."

"I'll stay." Gunjar at least remembered to whisper this time, "I'm not going to leave you alone."

Nevano felt himself crack a small smile, a small bloom of warmth sprouted in his belly. It really felt good to have someone at his back again. "I'll bet Elenwen kept them a bit closer than just her office. There has to be another room where she keeps her little treasures that's not open to just everyone."

"Check upstairs." Gunjar pointed up, "Girls keep jewelry in their bedrooms right?"

In any other situation Nevano would have made a sarcastic remark. Actually there were several things in that one sentence he could have made a wise ass crack on but a few things stopped him. One, he was highly impatient and wanted to find his property NOW. Two, Gunjar had a point. Girls kept jewelry in their bedrooms. Three; They were STILL in enemy territory and they needed to go NOW. So he kept silent and charged up the stairs, leaving Gunjar to scramble after him.

Upstairs there were two rooms, one at the end of each hallway. The room to the right was rather plain and simple and small, definitely not something an Altmer of Elenwen's rank would accept. The room on the left however definitely was. It was richly furnished, all delicately carved wood, silk sheets and sweet smelling candles. Far too over the top for Nevano who usually used whatever house he happened to somehow inherit as a loot stash. Somewhere in what used to be Balmora buried under the ash was a house filled with valuables.

Nevano noticed none of it. The restlessness he had felt in the office downstairs had intensified, bordering on anxiety. He could FEEL them calling out to him but it was muffled. He couldn't pinpoint just WHERE in the room it was coming from. So he began to tear through the room, emptying out chests, closets and dressers. As each shelf and drawer came away empty, frustration welled up in his belly, making him clench his teeth. The combination of anxiety and frustration was making his throat tight and his eyes prickle.

"Look." Gunjar picked up a small diary Nevano had flung aside, flipped it open, and began to read outloud, "The twin blades are truly Hopesfire and Trueflame, the swords that once belonged to Lord Indoril Nerevar and his queen Almalexia, considered saints among the Dunmer. They were last in the possession of the Nerevarine but, despite some rumors he had led the rebellion in Chorrol, he was last reported to have left the shores of Tamriel for Akavir not long before the Oblivion Crisis. The swords were recovered from a prisoner in Helgen. How the thief came into possession of such weapons is unknown for he undoubtedly perished with all the others when the dragon attacked. For reasons unknown the enchantments that were said to light the blades on fire refuse to light. The swords remain inert. Still they should prove most useful in keeping the Dunmer in Morrowind suitably in check for they revere such historical objects."

Nevano was frozen as Gunjar read, rage kindling deep in his belly. When the words "keeping the Dunmer in Morrowind in check" were spoken, the rage exploded from the small knot he had contained it in into an inferno that engulfed his entire body. They had stolen his weapons to use against his own people?! They had been planning to use Hopesfire and Trueflame as blackmail! To keep the Dunmer under Thalmor control! Tears of rage streaked down his cheeks, his nails bit into his palms. He could barely hear Gunjar speaking anymore.

"Calm down Nevano." Gunjar took a step back seeing the normally stoic elf break down, "We'll find them. They've got to be here."

Nevano couldn't respond. Gunjar was still young, just barely beginning to understand what it was like for one's people to be under the control of another. Nevano held no grudge against him for that. After all, the boy was concentrating on saving the world from dragons. He couldn't…Nevano's ears twitched suddenly. The stone sounded just slightly different than the others. He spun around on Gunjar, eyes burning. "Do that again."

"Do what?"

"Step on that stone you just stepped on!"

Gunjar obeyed, sliding his foot back onto the stone again. There. Nevano's sharp ears picked up the very faint hallow thump. The stone was thick but there was a pocket underneath it. There was absolutely no reason for that particular stone, right in the center of the room, to have a hallow underneath it…unless it was deliberate. Nevano dived onto the stone, looking for a crack or lip so he could pry it up.

"Allow me?" The mer moved away as Gunjar hefted up his axe and slammed it down. The loose stone bounced but didn't crack. Again Gunjar hit it with the axe, this time a small crack appeared along the top. Nevano clenched his tongue in his teeth and held his breath as the axe came down again and again, the crack widening and finally splitting. With one final roar Gunjar split the thick stone in two and helped pry the pieces out of the floor.

A small hallow had been deliberately carved underneath the floor, just above the wooden beams of the ceiling beneath them and shored with sturdy wood as to not alert anyone walked above it to a hallow. Anyone but those with sharp ears that is. In it was a long, narrow cloth wrapped bundle, now covered in rock shards and dust. With shaking fingers, Nevano pulled it out. As he did, his anxiety lifted, replaced by an exaltation that only came with seeing a loved one again after a very, very long time. He set the bundle down on the floor and unwrapped them, swallowing around the lump growing in his throat.

Graceful Hopesfire and wicked Trueflame sat perfect and untouched. Their flame enchantments were dark but of course they were. They only responded to their true wielder. No Thalmor would ever have been able to activate their magic. They were simply ordinary swords in another's hands, well made, yes, but no more special than any other standard sword. Nevano made a strangled noise as he ran a hand over the curved blades, watching small flames flicker in the wake of his touch. The flames had been cold a long while but now they were waking up. Nevano wrapped his hands around the hilts and snapped them up into position, Hopesfire in his left hand and Trueflame in his right. Slowly the flames came to life, igniting at the tip then spreading faster down the blade, bursting into their former glory. In pure joy the flames continued, over his hands, up his arms until he was gently embraced in red and blue flames like a hug. Nevano laughed, feeling whole again for the first time in a very long time.

Reluctantly the flames receded, taking up their normal residence along the blades. Nevano looked up at Gunjar, whose jaw was hanging down by his knees. The elf grinned, gold eyes flashing.

"Let's go kick some Thalmor ass."

Going downstairs revealed the true nature of the Thalmor. Gone was the brittle pretense of welcoming and tolerance. This, in Nevano's opinion, was the true face of the Thalmor. Rough bare wood that was stained and scratched lined their way down the stairs into the basement, revealing a dungeon torture chamber. In one cell, a man hung in shackles, his skin covered with cuts that were just deep enough to bleed. Non-lethal but very painful. A mage stood at his cell and a soldier was busily transcribing their conversation on a scroll.

Nevano's eyes burned. A long hard life had resulted in a burning hatred for imprisonment of any sort that even exceeded his hatred for the Thalmor. His body was littered with scars he had received from his enslaved childhood. He had spent a good portion of his time on Morrowind releasing slaves, including buying slaves from Sadrith Mora and setting them free right in front of the slavers. It hadn't endeared him to the Telvanni any but it had given a sort of fierce satisfaction to see hope flare up in the eyes of those who no longer had any.

"Gunjar, take a breather. This is all mine."

"You sure?"

"I need to make sure my sword arms haven't lost their touch."

Boldly Nevano strode into the room, Hopesfire and Trueflame in their scabbards on his hips. They were mostly quiet but Nevano could feel a tight eagerness in his chest. They were ready to respond the instant he tugged them free, eager for battle.

"What the…who are you?!" The mage, Rulindil Gunjar had called him, spun around, eyes wide. The soldier spun from the desk, drawing her sword.

"I come with a proposition." Nevano held his bare hands out, "A simple one, if you'll so indulge me."

The Thalmor, confused to the point of actually listening, lowered their hands, staring incredulously at the daring dark elf. Nevano smiled to himself. Modryn had HATED it when he did this. It was a risky maneuver, one that he only took when he had perfect surprise like this and a bargaining chip. If he played it wrong, he could find himself unarmed and facing a room full of attacking enemies.

"I want that man released. I'll duel your lady here for him. If I win, you can go free and the man comes with me. If I lose…well, none this will have happened then right?"

"Humph." The mage gave a haughty snort, "I accept. I doubt you'll be able to win anyway and Lady Elenwen will never even have to hear about this…inconvenience"

The soldier, at a nod from Rulindul, came at him with a powerful overhand swing, which was easily blocked by both curved blades coming up in a X. Sharp gold eyes noted that his opponent was ever so slightly off balance due to the recoil of his block. He shoved hard with his crossed swords and, predictably, she was thrown back a step. The newly freed Hopesfire came around in a mid-strike and glanced off pale gold elven armor, throwing blue sparks in an arc. The female elf jumped back and raised her hand. Red tendrils of energy surrounded her hand and elongated, coalescing into a red and black sword. Nevano huffed, recognizing the summoned deadric weapon. They were just as wickedly sharp as his blades but the added magical bonus made his opponent just a bit faster than him. He tried to dodge as she came at him again, slicing both swords up high at his neck. He managed to dodge the elven sword she had in her right hand but the deadric blade in her left, bolstered by magic, nicked the side of his neck just deep enough to draw blood.

Nevano stepped back, frowning at the Thalmor's triumphant smile. She thought she had him at a distinct disadvantage. She thought she was going to simply run him through as she pleased. She thought she was going to win. She was wrong.

"Valiant Hopesfire, strong Trueflame, hear me." Nevano whispered, hands clenching tight on his swords, feeling heat beginning to gather at his words, "Light for me, burn for me. I need your power to aid me in battle."

Instantly red and blue flames exploded out along the curved blades, lighting the dim dungeon up and washing the walls in red and blue light.

"The swords…" Rulindil's eyes widened and he backed up, back towards another set of stairs behind him, "They were inert! The enchantments were spent! All attempts to recharge them failed! They even repelled attempts to use them. How did you…WHO are you?!"

Nevano didn't bother answering. Not with words anyway. He let Truefire and Hopesflame do the talking for him. The soldier had taken a step back, out of balance and out of a defensive position. Nevano drove at her, pressing his advantage with a flurry of strikes that she could barely counter, never letting up for a second. Left right left left right then a double strike that knocked both arms wide and Nevano drove both swords at her as hard as he could, through armor that crumpled like paper, through flesh that offered as much resistance as water and through vital organs, popping them like overly ripe fruit. Blood gushed from the massive wounds, sizzling as they hit the flames and filling the air with a coppery tang. He yanked his swords free and the Thalmor sank to the ground in a puddle of her own blood.

"No…this is…what are you?!" Rulindil scrambled backwards away from the Dunmer in a panic.

"You tell Elenwen what happened here." Nevano growled, "You tell her that I remember Chorrol. I will NEVER forget what you Thalmor did and I will not rest until the Thalmor are all DEAD!"

With his final statement Truefire and Hopesflame flared, their flames traveling up Nevano's arms. Rulindil, completely and totally unnerved by the seemingly insane Dunmer, turned and ran. Nevano didn't know if he would dare interrupt Elenwen's party just yet, but it was merely a matter of time.

"You just declared war on the Thalmor."

"Since the Imperials no longer have the spine to fight back…" Nevano turned to look Gunjar full in the face, "Since they first left the Summerset Isles as the Chimer, my people have had nothing but conflict. We clashed with the Dwemer, the Nords, the beast folk, the Imperials…and no we are under the Thalmor. I don't care what happens to the empire but those Thalmor bastards killed the only person in this world who…I won't let it go. I hate the Thalmor and I will kill every last one of them."

"Someone you loved?"

"One day…I'll be able to tell you." Nevano swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat. No…not now. "I can't speak of it just yet."

Gunjar nodded and turned to the desk while Nevano went to release the poor man in the cell.

"Ah, thank you my friend, thank you." The man said as he dropped from the shackles, rubbing his wrists, "Thalmor hospitality is…lacking."

"I understand." Nevano crouched down in front of him, "What did they want from you?"

"They're looking for someone in Riften. In the ratways. I really don't know that much other than his name is Esbern. The ratways are full of crazy people. Not sure why the Thalmor would be interested in crazy old men." The man shrugged, "I'm Etienne by the way. Thank you for setting me free."

"Nevano." The mer helped the man to his feet, "Happy to disrupt the Thalmor's plans. Gunjar there will be interested in getting this Esbern away from the Thalmor."

"There's a trap door over there that leads out. There should be a key around here somewhere."

"Go wait by it. We're almost done and then we'll get the hell out." Nevano moved over to Gunjar, "Find anything useful?"

Absently Gunjar handed over a key, never looking up from the dossier he was reading, "I think I got all I need. Go unlock that trap door. We should go."

"Yes sir." Nevano gave a wry smile and started to turn but stopped when a door upstairs opened. He exchanged a look with Gunjar and snapped out Hopesfire and Trueflame.

"Keep moving!" A Thalmor soldier shoved a Bosmer roughly towards the stairs, weapon drawn.

"Look I don't know what this is about!" The Bosmer man wailed, stumbling as they shoved him along, "Whatever you think is going on, it's not true!"

Gunjar straightened, his face hardening, green eyes turning to stone. Nevano raised an eyebrow as he watched Gunjar's gloved hands twist on the haft of his axe. "You know the mer?" he asked quietly.

"He's a friend."

"Good enough for me." Nevano crouched into a ready stance, "Go in hard and fast, before they can strike. The longer this drags out the faster we'll be up to our arses in Thalmor."

"Says the crazy dark elf who declared a duel…"

Nevano had no chance to snap a retort. The two Thalmor had reached the bottom of the stairs. They were so absorbed in their Bosmer captive that they never noticed Gunjar and Nevano. They were completely overwhelmed and quickly taken out. Privately Nevano was pleased it was quick. He was rapidly running out of energy to keep up any more prolonged fights. He guessed he had enough left in him to get them all out and away with enough left over for a few skirmishes before he would start making sluggish mistakes.

"Now the Thalmor will be hunting me for the rest of my life. I hope it was worth it!" The Bosmer was shouting at Gunjar.

"Malborn I…"

"I should have known this would end badly!" Malborn ignored the young Nord, "I can't believe I let Delphine talk me into this!"

"Malborn…"

"I…"

"By Azura SHUT UP!"

Both man and mer jumped as Nevano mustered everything left in him to give his best Oreyn-style bellow. It had worked for the short-tempered Dunmer for centuries and Nevano could see the power in it. The volume, the force behind it with just enough malice to make them believe the threat in it. It wasn't Nevano's style but he couldn't deny the effectiveness of it.

"Let's just get out of here for pity's sake." Malborn whined.

Nevano pointed towards the trapdoor where Etienne was still patiently waiting. He looked back up to the amused Nord. "I hate whining Bosmer."

"You are such a Dark Elf."

Nevano kicked Gunjar through the trap door after Etienne and Malborn in response.

The trap door led to an ice cave. With the absense of wind it mercifully wasn't nearly as cold as it was outdoors. But as soon as Nevano's feet hit the ground his nose was assaulted with a very familiar smell. Heavy, utterly disgusting with a weird barely discernable whiff of something sweet. Only one thing on this planet smelled like shit and candy at the same time; a troll.

Nevano snapped out his twin blades as he heard the troll roar. He was exhausted and he really doubted he had the energy to hold up in a prolonged fight against a full grown ice troll…

He screeched to a halt as an agonized howl echoed through the cave, making the mer clap his hands over his ears. There was a wet thump and the howl mercifully was silenced…then another thump. Curious, Nevano dropped down off the ledge. He smiled as he watched Gunjar trying to pull his massive axe from the beast's head.

"After all that and there's a damned troll at the end." He was grumbling, bracing his foot against the troll's face as he yanked, "Damned Thalmor pet…"

Nevano snorted. "Good job kid."

Gunjar yanked his axe free with a sticking, sucking noise and made a face, "You know, these things aren't all that smart. How is there so much brains?"

"Funny…I remember Modryn saying the same thing about Nords and Orcs whenever we ran across them in bandit packs."

"Hey!"

The Dunmer smirked as he strolled out of the cave. He plopped down on a snow covered stone wearily, watching as the Bosmer and the Nord captive took off into the woods, not once glancing back at the cave of horrors. The mer couldn't blame them really. Thalmor by themselves were considered a bad day at any given time. The rest of the crap that happened today? Probably their worst day in existence. Nevano didn't even count this in the top fifty.

"So…drinks and something hot to eat?" Nevano asked Gunjar as he came out, "I'll pay. You actually made a joke back there. I'll gladly pay for that. I'm starving. I could eat an tavern out of business."

"As much as I want to take you up on that, I think I'm going to have to pass." Gunjar sighed, "One of these dossiers is on that Esbern that Etienne mentioned. Apparently he's a Blade. Explains why the Thalmor want him… I should probably get this to Delphine sooner rather than later. Besides those Thalmor will be really upset after this. If I need to move ahead of them, best do it now before they send the assassins after us."

Nevano laughed, "Oh yes, those fearsome assassins. You and I have faced walking long-dead Nords, dragons breathing fire and ice and saber cats with bad attitudes. Bring on the assassins! I'm sure the Morag Tong and the Dark Brotherhood are threatened by such an elite assassin force." the mer shook his head then turned serious, "However, remember what I told you last time; she needs you not the other way around. Don't let the Blades force you to do something you don't think is right."

"Before we go our separate ways…can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You…are the Nerevarine aren't you?" Gunjar looked right at him, green eyes piercing into gold ones, "That diary…it said the last known person to carry those swords is the Nerevarine, the Dunmer hero from…what, 200 years ago?"

"Yes…yes I am." Nevano sighed, "And it was indeed over a few centuries ago…make a mer feel old why don't you."

"So you know what it's like."

"That's why I'm telling you to not let the Blades bully you." Nevano glared at the ground, old injustices surging up. Modryn had always said he was as good a grudge holder as a Telvanni wizard. "If it wasn't for the Blades I wouldn't have been framed for murder, tossed to Vvardenfell like trash, used as an errand boy all on a GUESS. It was pure luck that I just happened to please Azura. The ones who didn't…died. Can you imagine that? The emperor, in all his so-called wisdom, picked an orphan who happened to be born under the Lady and just…did that. No one who thinks they are in charge of this quest to stop the dragons will care if you live or die, least of all the Blades. You ARE a hero…the only one who can stop this. YOU matter." Nevano gave him a sad smile " 'Each event is preceded by prophecy. But without the hero, there is no event.' Remember that. Zurin Arctus said it. It was said in reference to those who stood tall in times of great crisis. Many heros have risen up throughout Tamriel's history. The Blades think they raise them up and take them down like dolls. Nothing can be further from the truth. You be careful out there."

Gunjar nodded and stuck out his hand, "I promise."

Nevano grabbed his wrist and shook his hand, "If you need a friend, I'll be repaying a debt to the College of Winterhold."

The mer watched as the young hero took off through the woods. He would see Gunjar again before everything was over, he could feel it in his bones. At his sides, Truefire and Hopesflame heated up briefly in agreement.

END PART 1

XxXxXx

A/N: Longest chapter to date! Good God that was a doozy. Writing out that entire thing…So. Many. Little. Things. Because it's been a while between this chapter and the other chapters I wrote before I had surgery, I kinda forgot what I put and repeated myself a bit. Oh well. It stays. I'll probably have several more instances where I do that. Also I debated making this two chapters and building suspense and cliffhangers and yadda yadda but instead I decided to be nice and give up the whole thing. Nev needed his swords back. Speaking of the swords I again took artistic license. If Nerevar's ring was so special only he could wear it then it makes perfect sense that the sword made especially for him will only respond to him. And I made Hopesfire a fire blade. Don't name something after fire then give it a lightning damage. That made zero sense. But this is the end of part 1. Onward chaps! (by the way…how many of you Morrowind players filled houses up so much you actually tripped the overflow loot bag? I had at least 4 houses I did that with. So. Much. Stuff.)