Bethesda owns Morrowind and all that is contained therein. - D
Winterbell did indeed spend the next week in bed, or at least mostly within the confines of her house. It felt less of a holiday and more of an enforced rest, for her body was protesting the abuse it had suffered over the past ten months.
Winterbell peered disconsolately at her reflection in her small mirror. The harsh weather of the Ashlands had added lines to her face, and despite the abundance of food she could see the planes of her skull grinning back at her. Three quarters of a year of travelling, fighting, and most of all using magic had kept her in the skin-and-bones state she had arrived in.
Older, and yet younger. Despite the lines and scars, Winterbell felt more alive and youthful than she had in years. The vicious, individualistic young woman who had been buried under years of thankless, repetitious rebellion once again regarded the world with her molten gaze. Her lips curled easily into a victorious, arrogant smile that ever more regularly preceded her, especially amongst the Telvanni. Her magicka reserves had only grown with the constant ebb and flow of energy, and she feared less and less the sickness that crippled her so regularly in the spring and summer.
Throughout her rest, the Dwemmer books constantly held her attention. Not a waking hour went by without her glancing up and staring thoughtfully at the musty pile. She had leafed through Hanging Gardens of Wastern Coridale countless times, but its mysteries remained as impenetrable as ever.
Once again Winterbell made the journey to Gnisis. As the stilt-strider plodded ever further north, the temperature dropped. People complained about the bitter weather, and about the likelihood of the frostfall ash-yam crop being ruined in the frozen ground. Some blamed the blight, some blamed the gods. After the incident on the Night of All Souls, Winterbell found herself listening in to this idle chatter, trying to gauge the depth of people's discontent.
However many times she took the strider, the driver always referred to her as 'Outlander'. It was a title she would never shake, and in some quarters it was a worse label than 'Telvanni'. Winterbell spent some time wondering about the extent of Orvas Dren's power, and how her own might eventually compare.
Baladas wasn't home. A brief note was attached to his door: "Keep Out Unless You Have A Key". Winterbell tried the 'Summoning Room' key that for some reason she'd never handed back. It didn't work, but the legend magically appeared above the keyhole, "Try Again, Winterbell". With an irritated sigh she tried every key in her bag. None of them worked. Winterbell glared at the door.
"I'm not going to sit out here freezing my ears off playing some stupid wizard's game." She fumed, and with an angry snap of her wrist, pulled a scroll from her bag.
"You don't still have the key I made?" Baladas asked with amusement.
"Well of course I do." Winterbell snapped, "But it's a foot long. I'm not going to cart it all over the countryside. These books are heavy enough as it is."
Winterbell only had to wait two days for the mercurial wizard's return. She'd borrowed a large number of books from his library and had spent most of her time sitting in front of the fire with her feet resting on Zergonipal, who seemed to prefer to sleep during cold weather. Baladas had returned with a large number of exotic ingredients and notes from Divayth Fyr. Winterbell wished him a happy new year, only to receive an "It's gone again has it?" in reply.
Winterbell retailed some of her conversation with Aryon, who Baladas described as the 'only councillor who talked his way onto the council'. She left out, for now, her quest to get Baladas to rejoin the council. Baladas looked gleeful when she repeated Aryon's offer to be her patron,
"See?" Baladas nudged her arm, "I told you you'd make it to the top."
"I'm not there yet."
"You will be." He assured her.
"We'll see." She said skeptically.
"Do you still take ordinary chores when you're not hobnobbing with the powerful and high-ranking?"
"Yes." She replied sourly.
"Excellent, I want you to find a ring for me, Winterbell. I discovered its location by cross-referencing these books you hunted down for me."
Winterbell scribbled down the mage's instructions. It seemed another week or two in the Ashlands was required; a small price to pay for the favour of the powerful Telvanni.
Baladas talked at length of his visit to Tel Fyr. He seemed quite amused by Fyr's 'daughters' although Winterbell found them vaguely horrifying. It seemed Fyr, who was not a member of the council, was one of the few Telvanni that Baladas was on visiting terms with. It was when the topic of discussion turned to the half-metal creature in Fyr's corpusarium that Winterbell remembered her purpose for visiting.
Winterbell pulled the books from her bag, saving Hanging Gardens until last. Baladas turned the pages carefully, each new book provoking an admiring nod. Winterbell grinned,"Nicely preserved aren't they?"
"Yes indeed. Pity we can't read them though." Baladas glanced up, "I don't believe I have ever seen you look so sneaky, Winterbell. What else have you got in that bag of yours?"
Winterbell inclined her head graciously, and handed Baladas the final book,
"See if you can make sense of that one."
Baladas smirked and raised an eyebrow, "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"
"It's not everyday that one can show a Telvanni master something new."
"And this is something new to me, is it?"
"I'll put money on it."
"Well then, let's see what we have here...Hanging Gardens. This isn't Curio's new play is it?"
"Since the euphemism is tenuous at best, I can safely say it's too subtle for out Hlallu playwright."
"You got it though."
"Just open the damn book, already!"
Baladas laughed. "All right. I've had my fun." His smile vanished as he turned the page. "This is…and the whole book is like this..."
"Aldmeris." Winterbell's eyes danced.
"And you're hoping I can read it." Balaldas leant forward.
"The thought had crossed my mind." Winterbell replied.
"Strangely enough." He grinned.
"You can?" Winterbell's enthusiastic grin matched his own.
"It was a while ago." He teased, his breath tickling Winterbell's ear.
"And your memory's not what it was?" Winterbell mocked gently.
"I'm not that old." He purred.
Winterbell's eyes grew wide and she stepped back from the mage. She took a deep breath and shook her head,
"That is…so you think you can decipher the Dwemmer script?" She said, talking a little faster than normal.
"I think we have a fairly good chance."
Baladas set Winterbell to copy out the entire book onto sheets of parchment while he dug around in his storeroom for his old books on Aldmeris. He still hadn't mentioned a timeline for this project, and Winterbell hoped she wouldn't die of old age before it was completed.
"I was planning to visit the libraries on Somerset Isle. That's why I learnt Aldmeris in the first place. I never ended up going though." Baladas said, returning to the study with a pile of dusty books.
"How many languages do you speak?" Winterbell asked curiously.
"About twenty-five. Once you've learned your first ten it becomes quite easy."
"No doubt. Do you have any more ink?"
"I think we should probably send Zergonipal out for supplies."
Zergonipal, however, made it perfectly clear that he had no desire to subject himself to Gnisis weather. The daedra resolutely curled up in front of the fire with his head buried beneath his massive paws.
"Hrmm…Well. Perhaps you could leave the copying until tomorrow, Winterbell."
The next day Winterbell reluctantly got out of bed. The temperature had dropped even further, and there was a strange hush in the air. Winterbell knew the odds of getting Zergonipal to do some shopping were less than none, and so she decided to do it herself.
Huddling in her warmest robe, Winterbell opened the front door. She stared in wonder. Then sneezed. She shut the door with a bang and practically flew upstairs.
"Baladas! Are you awake?"
"Yes." The wizard's voice floated down. Winterbell brought herself to a skidding stop at the foot of his stairs,
"Uhh…are you decent?"
"Well of course I am."
"It's snowing outside!"
"It happens every fifty years or so."
"Oh." Winterbell looked rather put out, "I've never seen snow before."
"It's not that exciting." Baladas returned to his book.
"Well I think it is. I'm going out."
"Don't forget to buy ink. And some parchment while you're at it."
Winterbell poked her tongue out, "Spoilsport." She muttered, wandering back downstairs.
Winterbell pulled on fur-lined boots, gloves and a helm she found mouldering in the cupboard in her room. She supposed she looked rather peculiar, but didn't let it bother her.
"Actual snow!" She said to herself gleefully.
Inhabitants of Gnisis were less blasé about the weather than Baladas was. Those who were old enough to remember the last time it snowed told tales of how much deeper and colder the snow was 'back when I saw it first'. Children and adults alike wandered awestruck through the icy material, and snowball fights were common.
The snow wasn't really that deep, and Winterbell was relieved it came nowhere near the tops of her boots. The stilt strider seemed to be in a bad way. The driver had covered the beast as best he could in blankets and it groaned in protest at the awful weather.
Winterbell wandered around the snowball fights and enthusiastic children making 'snow daedra'. Artists were doing their best to capture the scene without freezing their fingers off.
Baladas looked up from his book for the hundredth time. Eventually he scowled and shut it with a snap.
"Fine them." He growled, throwing on a coat and striding out. Zergonipal slept peacefully.
Winterbell reached up to snap another icicle off the tree. With a thump a snowball smashed into the back of her head, and icy water dripped down her neck. With a yelp Winterbell spun around,
"Telekinesis!" Snow, icicles and possibly a couple rocks floated in the air around her. "Oh, it's you. You decided to come out after all?"
Baladas shrugged at bit self-consciously. He eyed her unusual attire,
"Do you know how ridiculous you look in that hat?"
Winterbell smirked, "I wouldn't say things like that to someone with this much ammunition."
"Oh really? Telekinesis." He said casually. Winterbell snarled as some of the snowballs floated away from her,
"Hey, give them back!"
"Oh I'll give them back."
"Ehh? Sanctuary!"
"I must say, this snowfall was more interesting than the last one."
"It doesn't last long, does it?"
The mages wandered around the countryside just outside of Gnisis. The snow was melting already, turning to a muddy slush. Winterbell was glad that she had her boots.
"Have you given any thought to Aryon's offer, Winterbell?"
"Some. Aryon gave me a quest to complete before I can become his Mouth." This wasn't quite true, as Aryon hadn't insisted that Winterbell be successful, but she decided that Baladas didn't need to know about that particular clause.
"Surely nothing that the great mage Winterbell can't handle."
"That's entirely for you to say."
"Me? What do I have to do with it?"
Winterbell turned and faced him, "He wants you to rejoin the council. He told me to persuade you, and since my persuasive skills aren't the best, I'm telling you straight out what he wants."
Winterbell waited for some kind of reaction. Baladas just looked at her, his face blank.
"Umm…so…" Winterbell nudged him.
"I…I don't know. I never planned on rejoining the council. Especially not with Gotheren in charge."
"Aryon said you had some kind of disagreement with him." Winterbell said, choosing her words carefully. Baladas frowned unhappily,
"I'll have to think on this, Winterbell. My quarrel with Gotheren-" he smiled, bitterly, "I lost."
"I won't be able to topple him without your help." Winterbell said, wondering why she was trying to persuade him when she wasn't sure she wanted to accept Aryon's offer in the first place.
"I know." He said shortly, "Aryon is clever and charismatic, and while that may be enough for a Hlaalu, to succeed in Telvanni requires something more."
"Raw power?"
"You have that in abundance, Winterbell. I was referring to knowledge. Remember when I told you what politics was?"
"Blackmail and bribery." Winterbell replied.
"Of all the members of the council, only Therena is older than I am. I know most of their secrets, and those I don't know I can convincingly pretend that I do."
"Why did Gotheren win?"
"It was a triumph of emotions over common sense. Fear mostly, at least where the other members of the council were concerned."
"Fear of what?"
"House Redoran, believe it or not. But all that is irrelevant now."
"What are you going to do?"
"I am going to translate a book with the help of a charmingly annoying member of the Mage's Guild. I'll think about this, Winterbell, you will have my answer before spring." He turned and started walking back to his dome. Winterbell gazed about at the bleak countryside once more,
"The snow's nearly melted." She said. Baladas half-turned towards her,
"It has a fair way to go yet."