Companionship in Solitude
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Octavia surfaced above the water, spat some of it out, and stared across at the raging inferno just atop the banks of the lake.
"All in all." She said, between gasps for air. "Could have gone a lot worse."
"Help!" Dulurza shouted from her right. "I'm drowning!"
"You can't swim?" Octavia shouted, exasperated.
"I can't swim in full armour!" Dulurza spluttered, desperately trying to tread water while wearing over sixty pounds of metal. "And since when were those two werewolves?!"
Emerging next to them were a pair of large, furry, sopping wet creatures, which promptly started barking and snapping at each other at an impressive volume. The russet-red one seemed in a total panic, while the other looked like it was trying to get the situation under control.
"Oh Margret's not a werewolf." Octavia said, offhandedly. "That's just a magic ring. Hjar's been one for a while, and I think Sindig was as well."
"Wh-when did you work that out?"
"When we were in Morthal. It was obvious, when I broke into Hjar's room I saw-"
"SAVE ME!"
"Ugh. Fine!" Octavia worked some magic between her fingers, watching from the corner of her eye as Hjar gestured, and Margret turned and started swimming for an island in the lake. "I can't do a proper water-walk like Julius but this should provide you some buoyancy. Follow the big red wolf."
"Yeah, yeah. Malacath, this is ridiculous..."
Octavia turned back around. "Hey, Hjar? Come on, we need to regroup, debrief! Not sure how sane you are like this, but if needs be I can toss some calm spells your way...Hjar?"
Hjar didn't respond. She just floated there, staring at the flames.
8˂
L'laarzen met back up with Karliah and Brynjolf underneath Solitude's arch.
"Are you alright?" Was Brynjolf's first demand, followed immediately by Karliah's "Where's Mercer? Did you lose him? Did you get the Key?"
L'laarzen silently held up the Skeleton Key with one hand. With the other, she dumped a large sack on the road between them. Two large objects within audibly clinked together.
"So...you got him?" Karliah asked, at the non-answer. Her eyes drifted to the bag. "Wait, is that-"
L'laarzen reached down, and pulled it open.
The Eyes of the Falmer were...certainly something. Such absurd 'somethings' that it was difficult for the brain to comprehend exactly what it was looking at, and even harder for it to believe. The kind of fairy tales that the gems appeared in had almost made L'laarzen expect some trick or another; that the eyes wouldn't be what she was expecting. Maybe they were just glass, or they were actually tiny, or the real treasure was the friends she'd made along the way.
But no, there they were. Two absolutely bloody enormous diamonds.
They sparkled even in the low light, even within the walls of the sack. Each one was bigger than her head, each one a perfect, faceted oval, each one completely transparent except for the rainbows of colour that they refracted from the tiniest glints of light.
A single-carat diamond of similar quality would be worth upwards of a thousand septims. Simply scaling up the mass would value these at a significant fraction of Skyrim's annual GDP.
The key in her other hand was arguably worth more.
"Mercer's dead." L'laarzen said, hollowly. "Khajiit would like to rest in Solitude before moving on, please."
Brynjolf and Karliah didn't say anything. Just picked up the bag and flanked her as she made her way up the road.
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"Are you sure you're okay?" Hjar said, for about the fiftieth time.
"I'm fine." Margret insisted, walking beside her through the eastern forests of the Reach. "It was strange, and frightening, but...not exactly bad. That was mostly the fire. And like you said, the wolf form really plowed through that assassin's poison. Plowed through everything, matter of fact. I felt...powerful."
"It can be addicting." Hjar admitted, looking down. Hircine's ring was back on her finger, glinting in what little light broke through the trees above them. "You get past that stage when it first makes you murder people you care about."
"Oh." Margret winced. "Sorry."
"It's fine. Happened a long time ago." Hjar looked left, vaguely in the direction of Markarth. "Way back when I was in a Forsworn clan out in the Reach. I...Hircine, I can't even remember their names."
"R-right...so, werewolves get their own afterlife with your God, don't they?" Margret very blatantly tried to change the subject. "Have I just doomed myself to an eternity with a Daedric Prince? Not that I don't appreciate you saving my life again, I just-"
"You better bloody not be stuck with the Hunting Grounds." Hjar glared at the Ring, and from it felt the godly equivalent of arms raised in surrender. "I don't think so. You're no disciple of Hircine, and you're not a werewolf. This happened to a friend of mine a few weeks ago, and he's fine. I think. Should probably check in with him about it. But no, unless you choose to later, you'll not be going the same place as me and S-" Her voice caught in her throat.
"Sindig." Margret finished, quietly. "Did you know him well?"
"Hardly at all." Hjar chuckled, bitterly. "It was a very simple relationship. I saved his life, he saved mine. He saved your life, and I...I let him down."
Margret winced, and reached out to squeeze Hjar's hand. "That wasn't your fault. He knew what was coming, he even said he-"
"It's fine." Hjar inisted. She squeezed Margret's hand back, then looked away. "Just another body on the pile..."
Up ahead, Dulurza hacked away one particularly annoying fern and kept walking, Octavia trailing a few steps behind her.
"You know," mused the Imperial, "when you mentioned how Orcs travelled off Nord roads, I thought you were referring to some secret routes only they know, like the Khajiit moonpaths."
"Oh, we have a very special technique for that." Dulurza replied, with an eye roll. "It's called 'walking through the woods'."
"Genius."
"Hmph. You were the one who said we couldn't risk trekking through Whiterun plains." Dulurza looked back. "Orcs don't change the terrain to our will. We just deal with it. If there's a mountain in the way, we go around. If there's a bush in the way, we hack through it. We don't feel the need to lay flagstones in case we forget which direction to go."
"And here the Orcs wonder why they keep failing to build proper civilisation..." Octavia muttered, not quite low enough that Dulurza couldn't hear her. Then she continued "But, I have to admit, this isn't as bad as I'd thought. Certainly not as bad as what they put us through in training. Just got to watch my footing a little."
"It is easy." Dulurza agreed, with a frown, brushing a hand across the stump of one tree branch she passed. It had been sliced off, cleanly.
"...Are you about to say 'too easy' in a dramatic tone?" Octavia asked.
"Why would I say that."
"It's a book trope?"
"Woman, I can't read Tamrielic."
Octavia snorted, and Dulurza continued, "But no, the woods aren't as dense as I was expecting. Is this area regularly hunted?"
"Shouldn't think so." Octavia looked around. "Whiterun hunts in the plains, and we're far from Markarth and Morthal. Hold on, let me check." Red light appeared in her palms and she held them high, as a similar glow suffused her eyes.
"What is that?" Dulurza asked, concerned.
"Detect life." Octavia replied, turning slowly clockwise. "Did you know they clarify this as alteration, but clairvoyance as illusion?"
"No, why would I know that?" Dulurza replied, flatly.
"Trust me, it's ridiculous. I once planned to take over the Synod just so I could change the 'magic school' system to something that-"
She stopped, suddenly. Then swore, abandoned her spell, and conjured a bound bow in moments, drawing it and aiming it at some foliage to their left. "Show yourself! Or I fire!" She demanded.
Dulurza, Hjar, and Margret all looked at her in confusion. That vanished, however, when the leaves she was pointing at parted.
Borgakh the Steel Heart walked out, eyes hard. "Hello, sister." She growled.
Oh, Malacath...
"Don't shoot her." Dulurza hissed at Octavia.
"She's not alone." Octavia warned. "There's half a dozen more behind her, a hundred more not far behind that-"
"I said leave her!" Dulurza turned to her sister, eyes narrowed. "Didn't think you were the type for hiding in bushes."
"Do I look like I'm hiding?" Borgakh spread her arms. She was in full Orichalcum armour, and had a hammer slung over her back. "And I see you aren't hiding either. Sure you're alright leaving your Jarl undefended? Something might happen to her."
"Touch her and die." Dulurza snarled.
"Malacath above, what is wrong with you?" Borgakh demanded. "Is that witch-queen messing with your head? There are pretty women at camp too, you hopeless romantic!"
"Romantic?" Octavia looked across at Dulurza, back at Borgakh, back at her. Then went "Oooooh..."
"Care to explain?" Hjar asked from behind them, her and Margret also having drawn their weapons.
"This is Dulurza's sister." Octavia gestured. "They're going through some minor family troubles. And also Mor Khazgor tried to destroy Solitude."
"They what?"
Dulurza took two steps towards her sister, declaring "I'm not crazy. Crazy is what father was planning. Sister, Larak is going to get the entire tribe killed-"
"And what, instead you're going to do it?" Borgakh pointed an accusing finger. "You've already said you'll kill me. How far will you go, huh? Kill father? Mother? Going to murder your whole family because that bitch flutters her eyelashes at you?"
"I DON'T-" She didn't know. She didn't know, and that was terrifying, but she wasn't about to admit it. "I don't need to." She corrected, putting a hand on her axe. "Because you're going to take me to Larak, and I'm going to pound some sense into his skull."
"I'm not letting you anywhere near him." Borgakh stated. Her front foot shifted outwards and her legs bent, body coiling.
"I didn't say I was giving you a choice." Dulurza replied, quietly.
Long fight, short fight. I can stop Larak. If I can't, Octavia can. But first, I need to go through her.
With one last shout of "Don't interfere!" She drew her axe and charged.
Borgakh growled and grabbed the hilt of her own weapon. Dulurza moved in, bringing her axe up for an overhead swing. Then, at the last second, she switched her grip and went for a horizontal bash with the haft.
She was a better fighter than her sister. She knew this, as cruel as it was to say. Over the last year or so, as she had put on those crucial last six inches in height, focused more on her physical conditioning, and generally continued her training, she had slowly gone from losing seven matches out of ten to winning them. The excuses both had made (Dulurza not wanting to hurt her sister's feelings and Borgakh plainly trying to keep her pride) had started feeling more and more hollow.
There are no rules like a sparring match, and she has nowhere near as much experience with a warhammer. Must have picked it up to try and counter me better, but she should have stuck with what she knew. Whatever she tries to do to block this I can overpower her, and once she's on her back this is over.
But that wasn't how it went.
Borgakh took a step backwards, gripped her weapon, moved, and then Dulurza woke up slumped against a tree several metres away.
She coughed, then wheezed, staring up at the canopy, before coming back to her senses and desperately trying to stand. Most of the pain was in her stomach. Ribs broken, possibly, and looking down she noticed that a massive section of her breastplate had been dented significantly inwards, making it difficult to breathe. She put weight on her arms as she stood up, and that was when she realised that each hand was still desperately clutching her axe. It was just in two different pieces. Her left hand gripped a length of wood less than a foot long, the right a splintered stump with a cracked axe head attached.
She hit the shaft, broke through it, hit me, and sent me flying back into a tree? What in the name of Malacath...?
Turned out 'the name of Malacath' was about right.
Up ahead of her, Borgakh spun the haft of her weapon at an inhuman speed, sending an ethereal arrow clattering away. The weapon, when it stopped, was made of black metal glowing an eerie green, a red gem in the centre of it's absurdly sized head.
"Is that..." Dulurza croaked, still dazed.
"Volendrung." Borgakh declared, a dangerous light in her eyes. "This weapon was granted to me by Malacath himself. I am his champion, his chosen, and with it I will do what you clearly cannot."
"...You broke my axe." Dulurza mumbled. "I liked that axe."
Her shoulder was grabbed from behind. "We need to move!" Octavia shouted in her ear. "There are hundreds more of them coming! Follow me, now!"
Dulurza stumbled backwards, and Octavia moved up and clapped her hands. The forest ahead of them shifted, trees appearing and disappearing as Borgakh was obscured from view.
Her voice could still be heard, though. "I AM UNITING THE ORC CLANS, DULURZA! EVERY CHIEF IN SKYRIM WILL FALL IN BEHIND LARAK, AND ME AS HIS WEAPON! WE ARE RETURNING TO SOLITUDE WITH A REAL ARMY, AND WE WILL TEAR IT DOWN!"
Dulurza had no idea what to do. But when Hjar grabbed her arm and started pulling, she ran.
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Alexander walked through the gates of Solitude and took a second to breathe in deeply, looking around. The last time he'd been in this city, it had been when he'd first entered Skyrim. Decent enough place; heavy guard presence, Thalmor flexing their muscles everywhere, tall imposing buildings, two public executions in the span of an hour. Felt just like Imperial City.
Azura, feels like ages ago. Back then I was walking around with no idea what I was doing. And now...well not much has changed but now I have a body count.
He started walking, adjusting his robes and keeping an eye on the people he passed. No executions today, always a relief, people are shopping as freely as usual so probably no new disasters, L'laarzen is looking well-
L'laarzen?
He turned, blinked, and confirmed that yes, his favourite Khajiit was leaning on the wall of the Winking Skeever, staring at her hands.
She didn't notice his wave, didn't notice him walking over, and in fact only looked up when he called "Nirn to L'laarzen?" From a few feet away.
"Hm?" She looked up, putting what was in her hands (a key, or something?) away in a pocket. Then her eyes widened, and she smiled a tired smile. "Oh, Alexander! Good to see you!"
"You too!" Xander smiled back. "Fancy coming across you here, huh? Lucky us."
"Yes." Her expression soured, and she looked down. "Lucky..."
...Okay, that's. That's a clue, that is.
"You alright?" He asked, putting a hand on one of her shoulders. "This about our, uh, shadowy deal? Did you get the guy?"
"Oh, L'laarzen certainly 'got' him." She clenched her fists, looking down uncomfortably. "Mission successful, all difficult parts completed. But it revealed some...uncomfortable truths to come to terms with. L'laarzen is still thinking things through."
"Oh, okay." Xander wasn't sure what that meant, but he thought back to their meeting in the Dwarven ruin. What L'laarzen had done, and what she'd said about it afterwards. Well, it's not really any of my business. Or, is it? I'm her friend, so I suppose I should try to help...
But thinking of that meeting reminded him of something.
"Hey, do you want to see Cassia?" He offered, making L'laarzen's ears perk up. "She's working here in Solitude."
"Really?" L'laarzen asked. "I thought she was returning to the Empire?"
"Yeah, me too, but apparently she's getting ideas." Xander rolled his eyes, then jerked a finger towards the Blue Palace. "She's the Jarl's new court wizard. I was going anyway to say hi, shoot the Jarl and pick up a sword, but I'm sure my sis would be glad to see you again."
"L'laarzen...well, if you're offering." The Khajiit smiled. "This one could use the distraction, and in fact, she promised Cassia a new haircut-" she paused. "Um, pardon. Did you say 'shoot the Jarl'?"
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"Today on, top ten places I never saw myself walking into..." muttered Hjar, as she walked into the Blue Palace alongside Dulurza and Octavia.
Dulurza grunted. "You think that's bad? When I first came here I was wearing a dress."
"I bet you look good in a dress."
"People keep saying that and I keep not believing it."
"Sis!" Cassia vaulted over the bannister ahead of them, skipping the stairs entirely to land in front Octavia. "How did it-Ow, that really hurt-how did it go?"
"Hi, Cass. It could have gone much worse." Octavia glanced across at Dulurza. "But we have some information Jarl Elisif needs to hear. Is she in?"
"In? She hasn't left the building since she last met with Tullius." Cassia glanced back over her shoulder, then raised a hand. "But, uh. She did say that she wants Dulurza to be the one to report it. As in, alone."
Dulurza immediately narrowed her eyes. "No she doesn't."
"Yes she does."
"She-Have you not seen what she thinks of me?"
"I haven't seen you talk to her in days now." Cassia pointed out. "Maybe this is your moment? Actually talk about...things."
Right. As if I have any idea what to say...
"Margret's reporting to Tullius." Hjar clapped Dulurza supportively on the shoulder. "I'll go wait for her. Good luck."
"Thanks." Dulurza'a heart wasn't in the response. She sighed, nodded to her other companions, and then walked up the stairs.
The door to Elisif's room was closed, and Dulurza debated for more than a minute what to do before quietly knocking once and calling "My Jarl?"
"Dulurza?" Elisif's voice called back. "Come in, please."
Right. Not ominous at all...
Dulurza opened the door, and entered.
Elisif was sat on her bed, a book open but ignored in her lap. When Dulurza walked in, it was quickly tossed to the side.
"It's good to see you." Elisif said, standing with a relieved smile.
"It...is?" Dulurza was immediately thrown for a loop.
"All things considered, you coming back at all is a good thing." Elisif walked over to one of her cabinets. "That may change further depending on what you tell me next. Wine?"
"N-No. I'm fine." Dulurza (with no idea what else to do) leaned back against one wall, crossing her arms.
"Your loss." Elisif poured herself a glass, then turned back. "So. I hear that the Penitus Oculatus borrowed you for a mission of their own. Details?"
"A friend of mine found the Dark Brotherhood's hideout." Dulurza replied, meriting a pair of raised eyebrows. "We attacked it, destroyed it. If there are any still alive in Skyrim, they aren't in a position to do much but slink away."
"Very good news. Excellent work!" Elisif smiled brightly, sitting on her bed. "I do enjoy not being assassinated."
Was that...was that a joke? Or a dig at me? I don't-
"Are you alright, my Jarl?" Dulurza asked, hesitantly.
"Now why wouldn't I be alright?" Elisif rolled her eyes, taking a sip of wine. "I'm only in a war for control of this body...So, did you make any progress with my mission?"
"Some." Dulurza winced. "I met my sister, Borgakh. The one who..."
"Tried to kill me, I recall." Elisif nodded.
"Aye. Only...she's wielding Volendrung. The Volendrung."
Elisif frowned. "I'm unfamiliar."
"It's a legend, passed down through Orc tribes." Dulurza explained, trying to summarise what had to her only been stories until today. "It was originally the weapon of a Dwarven king. It's the Hammer that Fell when Hammerfell was first founded."
"Ah."
"Aye. It came into possession of Malacath, the God of the Orcs, and for centuries it has been his artefact, which he gifts to those who prove themselves worthy."
"And it makes her dangerous?" Elisif asked.
"It makes her Malacath's champion." Dulurza emphasised. "My Jarl, it gives her the right to declare herself queen of Orsinium. I have no idea how she got the weapon in the first place, but she's travelling Skyrim, uniting the Orc tribes behind her. All of them. She means to attack Solitude." Dulurza put a hand to her stomach. She'd removed the damaged armour on the way back, but breathing was still laborious. "She almost killed me..."
Elisif nodded, slowly. "Hm. Good."
Dulurza looked up in shock. "You-What?"
"Oh no it's terrible news, but there are silver linings." Elisif ran a finger around the edge of her glass. "You do realise why you were sent, don't you?"
This conversation was somehow worse than Elisif just yelling at her. Dulurza grit her teeth, and replied "Because I know the tribes best-"
"Because you don't know if a caged bird wants to stay until you open the door to the cage." Elisif's words echoed what Octavia had said back when she'd offered to help. "If you were going to betray us, we needed to know it. There's no way you were able to fake a little spat and then return as a spy again, not in front of the Empire's best agents, meaning now we know we can trust you." She paused. "Aw, but my host is still acting all uncertain. How odd. She agreed to the plan, I thought that meant she liked it..."
"What do you mean your host-"
It clicked. Dulurza's eyes widened, as she finally connected the words to the odd behaviour. "You're not Elisif."
The Jarl of Solitude looked up with a confused expression. Then sighed, daintily. "Okay, no, but that was good, right? Her mannerisms are hard to mimic, the woman is so meek usually-"
Dulurza reached over her shoulder and pulled out the remnants of her axe. It could technically be considered a handaxe at this point (if a ridiculous one) with a tiny, splintered haft and an oversized blade. "Let her go."
"She'll be back in a few minutes." Potema tossed her empty glass to one side and flopped back on the bed, kicking her legs in the air. "I don't have the strength to hold control much longer, calm down. I figured we could have a chat in the interim, see-"
"Let. Her. Go." Dulurza snarled, walking forwards and pressing her axe into Potema's chin.
"Or what?" The witch raised one eyebrow, disinterestedly. "Are you going to kill us both now? That's the clincher, darling: Elisif is still here. She's always going to be still here, even when I take over entirely and start putting this nation straight again." She reached up and drew circles in the axe blade with one finger. "I'm entirely willing to keep you around, you know. Elisif may not recognise it, but that loyalty of yours is really something. I want it. What if I gave her holidays, hmm? You and Elisif get twice-weekly make-out sessions and in return-"
"I am not your slave." Dulurza growled.
"Then you're going to have to kill the woman you're in love with." The grin that Potema put on Elisif's face was all wrong. Far too smug, far too vicious. "One quick slash, right? Come on, you'll get away with it, everyone who might catch you would understand. Or will you wait a minute or so for Elisif to come back? And wait, and watch, as the time between my visits get shorter and shorter and shorter until..."
Dulurza tensed, her hand tightening its grip on the blade. Potema waited, still smirking. Seconds ticked away, Dulurza feeling almost paralysed, praying to Malacath that something might happen to-
Something did.
The door slammed open and a figure walked in, pursued by loud voices and wielding a glowing staff.
"Oh, there she is!" Said Alexander Meteuse, with a smile. "Right, mind if I just-"
He pointed his staff at her and fired.
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Okay, magic, that's weird, oh, this is weird, okay, uh, can I get maybe a way to visualise this all please-
Something clicked, and then the world resolved itself around him.
Alexander was stood atop a tower; Castle Dour, upon a second glance. There were no trapdoors or stairs leading down, and the wind was blowing hard, making him stumble before he caught himself on the battlements. The surrounding city seemed far, far further down than it had any right to be, and the colours of the world around him were muted, greyer than even a particularly cloudy day. A single hunting horn rested on a stand on one wall. And stood atop the tower with him...
"Welcome, enjoy the scenery." Said a particularly disinterested-sounding woman. She was lounging on one of the battlements wearing a black dress, dark hair falling in what Xander didn't recognise as a Potemic wolftail braid. "This is Elisif's mindscape." Potema continued. "Bleak, isn't it? I wonder what neuroses this represents-"
She walked across the roof, pointing towards the hunting horn, but her hand crashed into an invisible barrier.
"Stay. Away from there." Snarled the other woman on the tower. Elisif the Fair looked absolutely awful, her dress and hair in utter shambles, but there was righteous determination in her eyes.
Xander looked between the two, and gulped. "Okay...so, this is more complicated than I thought."
"Who are you?" Elisif asked, looking frantically between him and Potema.
"Alexander Meteuse, pleasure to meet you." He bowed. "I sent you a letter, not sure if you got it. How's Cassia? I sort of brushed past her."
"Um. Good?"
"Great! Now then..." he turned to face Potema. The staff was still in his hand, even in the mindscape, and the information it provided to him was still coming through.
His eyes narrowed. "Why can't I get rid of you?" He asked.
Potema chuckled. "Is that the staff of Magnus? Oh, I need to keep you. Well, that or have you killed. The problem, dearie, is that your staff only allows you to influence magicka. I say 'only', it's a big deal, but it doesn't grant you any dominion over the soul." She tilted her head. "You should have talked to your sisters. Me and Elisif are bound together unless both of us decide we need to separate."
"Hmph." Xander crossed his arms. "Alright then, plan B. Potema, leave."
"No."
"Please leave?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Welp. I'm out of ideas." He shrugged and turned away, looking out over the city.
"Really?" Elisif said, with a desperate whine.
"No, I was joking, come on." Xander turned back with a sigh, pointing at Potema. "That was funny, right?"
"It was a little funny."
"Thank you. Alright, let's talk." He briefly imagined a chair appearing for him to sit on. But a chair didn't appear, so he kept standing and moved on. "Queen Potema, I have made deals with a lot of very powerful people over the last few weeks. I assure you I'm the kind of person who can get things done."
"Meaning?" She asked.
"Meaning I can help you." He gave one of his patented winning smiles. "What do you want? As specifically as possible. If you tell me, I can try and give it to you."
"Awww, you want to bargain?" Potema cooed at him. "You're certainly more pleasant than everyone else who's tried to get me out. Both of your sisters tried to kill me, can you imagine?"
"What? That's so rude!"
"It is!" She sighed. "And I would love to reward that, and I do intend to keep you alive because of it, but I'm afraid you're sincerely lacking in leverage."
Potema spread her arms. "I desire an escape from the Oblivion I blatantly deserve, a return to life in mortal form, and massive political power, in that order. The issue is that I already have all of those things right here." She patted the stone she was resting on. "I'm already inside the High-Queen-to-be of Skyrim. This is twice now I've won the heritage lottery, it's great. So I'm afraid there's nothing that you can offer me that would be worth leaving. Unless you can give me, I don't know, the body of the Emperor or whoever's running the Aldmeri at the moment."
"Oh, an impasse. Love those." Xander took a few steps forwards. "But there are the negative motivators. Most importantly, the fact that the people around Elisif are going to kill you if worst comes to worst. If they don't, Octavia will. I will." It was a little frightening to look inside himself and realise 'yes, that is an option that's on the table', but he kept his face as implacable as possible. "And there's still the fact that I've got full days to think of ways to remove you. I won't be worrying about keeping you happy while I do so. This is your opportunity to cut a deal that doesn't involve you getting Meridia-d at the end of it."
Elisif took that moment to raise her voice. "I don't want you dead, Potema. But I need you out. Consider the things I can do for you to be on the table as well."
Potema's smile had gradually widened over the course of the speeches. "My oh my, you lot are finally getting serious. I suppose it might not be wise for me to gamble my life for the chance at more power...but you are talking to the woman who tried to take over the Empire." She sauntered over to Xander, and put one finger in his chest. "The problem, my dear boy, is that I've already spent a long time thinking of ways out of my current predicament. And if you had anything real to offer or threaten me with, you'd have used it. Meaning what you're really asking me, is whether I think I'm smarter than you."
"Ah." Said Xander, recalling that he was talking to one of the vainest, most entitled figures in Imperial history.
"Precisely." Potema stepped backwards. "Now, I'm tired, so Elisif can have the reins back for a bit. Darling, be nice to your pet Orc while I'm gone. And Alexander? Good luck. Considering everything you've already tried and failed, I think you're going to need it~"
She rolled backwards over one of the battlements, and plummeted out of sight.
"...Not sure why all my opponents are massive drama queens, but there we go." Xander murdered.
̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶{o ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶͜͡| ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ϫ 8˂
The real world faded back into existence, and Xander lowered the Staff of Magnus just in time for Dulurza to slam into him, shoving him into the wall of the room by his throat.
"Grbl!" He protested, eloquently.
"I...Ngh...put him down, Dulurza." Elisif (actually Elisif, this time) waved her hand, weakly sitting up and putting a hand to her head. "That...Ow. Why is it every member of your family shoots magic at me the moment they meet me? We're three for three now."
"I think it's more unbelievable that we keep getting away with it..." Xander said, when his neck was released.
Dulurza turned back to Elisif. "My Jarl? Are you alright?"
"Of course I'm not alright!" Elisif snapped back, before wincing and covering her eyes. "Divines, what am I going to...But at least she's leaving me alone for now. I'd rather make the most of that."
Dulurza took the hint, but ignored it, stepping forwards. "Are you sure you don't-"
"Leave, Dulurza." Elisif demanded, glaring. Dulurza looked stricken, and Elisif looked down at her lap, quietly adding "Please."
Xander recognised the moment for what it was, and went into full 'salvage the conversation mode'. "Wait, Cassia shot you?" He clarified, turning from Elisif to the room's door. "Cass, what in Oblivion?"
"Hey shut up, I was trying to un-curse her!" In the hallway was a very strange collection of people. Cassia was there, obviously, with Octavia hovering a little further back looking at things with a critical eye. Also there, however, was L'laarzen, and beside her...Hjarnagredda? For some reason?
"Hi Dulurza!" The Khajiit waved. "Alexander, this is Hjar, she-"
"Actually." Hjar raised a hand, looking between them all. "I...think we all know each other?"
"Okay, this is crazy. No way!"
"It is more than a little ridiculous, but given what we know about how gods work it doesn't really surprise me-"
"More friends! Always a good thing!"
The four of them, Hjar, Xander, Dulurza, and L'laarzen, all pulled up chairs in one of the Blue Palace's side rooms. The cooks and servants who regularly passed by (they were right outside the kitchen) had put some snack foods and a pitcher of ale on the table, and so they set about the best way to ignore the awkwardness that had happened upstairs. Namely, eating and catching up.
"Shortstack told me you're running the magic school!" Dulurza accused, pointing at Xander. "How in the name of Malacath did you pull that off?"
"I didn't mean to!" He threw his hands in the air. "It was an accident!"
"Oh come on!" Hjar protested. "Nobody takes over a school by accident."
"Look, the previous boss had just died and I killed the guy that killed him." Xander shrugged. "I don't think that's meant to be how it works, but, well, we're in Skyrim."
"Khajiit would call it silly." L'laarzen added. "But her associates have started nominating her as the Guild's new leader after slaying Mercer..."
"Oh yeah, that's a thing." Xander pointed at L'laarzen. "Turns out, the hairdresser does crime!"
"We know." Chorused Hjar and Dulurza, the latter adding "It was obvious. She's very good at breaking in and out of places."
Xander looked between them, then started sulking.
"So, you mean the Thieves Guild, right?" Hjar asked L'laarzen. "In Riften? How are all my friends in such high places?"
"Yes, that guild." L'laarzen winced, as a serving girl passed them with a particularly concerned expression. "But perhaps not so loud? And Khajiit didn't exactly mean to acquire this position either. Dulurza, this one suspects you are doing the best there."
"Ugh, do not get me started." Dulurza looked to the ceiling. "I wanted to get close to the Jarl, but it wasn't for the best reasons. I've not exactly done too well since." She looked across the table. "Hjar? How goes your problem in Markarth? Figured out who you are?"
"I decided I was a good person, and killed everyone related to the problem." Hjar replied, succinctly. "It went away, but now I'm having a personal crisis."
There was an awkward pause.
"Ahnurr and Fadomai, we are a dreary bunch." L'laarzen summarised, causing the other three to break out laughing.
"Oh, and what about the other problem?" Xander asked Hjar. "With the Ring, and the...uh, does anyone else here know about Hjar's..."
Dulurza raised a hand. L'laarzen just blinked, then said "Khajiit does not need to know of any personal secrets, don't feel pressured."
"No, I don't, it's just-" Hjar cut off, looking across at L'laarzen in thought, before side-eyeing the other two.
"She's too nice to care." Dulurza replied, gruffly.
"L'laarzen's seen worse, and she knows how to keep a secret. I trust her with mine." Xander added.
Hjar sighed. "Yeah, alright."
"You really don't have to-"
"No, I want to. It's nice to have people who know." She glanced at another passing maid. "But not here, I think the staff have heard enough. There was an empty room on the way here, shall we just go there, I'll whisper it to you briefly and then come back..?"
"Oh, yes! Then we can all make subtle references to each other!" The pair stood, and headed back the way they'd come.
"Take your time, we'll just be here!" Xander waved them off with a chuckle, before going back to his honey nut treat. "Is this what having proper friends is like? This is nice. This is healthy. This is...this is a good snack, damn, the stuff we get in Winterhold is nothing like this-"
"Hey Xander." Dulurza said, quietly.
"Hm?" He looked at her, mouth full.
"Can I..." Dulurza grit her teeth, looked down. Then, even quieter, "Can you teach me how to talk to people?"
...Xander swallowed his mouthful. "Pardon?"
"It's just-" Dulurza didn't look up from the table. "I can fight. I know I can fight. I've beaten vampires and assassins and wizards, and that's fine. But...I keep running into problems I can't fight, and I don't know what to do."
She clenched her fist in front of herself. "They said I killed Falk, and I couldn't even say a word in my own defence. I'm fighting my own sister, my own tribe, and I can't even tell them why. I barely even know why! And Elisif-" She cut off there, grimacing. "I haven't explained what happened there, have I?"
"Not really, no." Xander gulped.
"Malacath, that could take a while." Dulurza blew out a breath. "Look, I betrayed her, but-but I didn't. And she knows I didn't, but she still doesn't trust me. And I don't know how to explain what I'm thinking, or how to ask her what she's thinking, I-I should be able to at least explain myself, but every time I open my mouth it just makes things worse." She looked over at him. "But you know how to talk to people. It's what you do, right? You can do deals and all, what, 'negotiate'. I thought, maybe if you taught me, I could-"
"Wait! Wait wait wait." Xander held a hand up, eyes wide. "Listen, Dulurza, I...I have had tutors. I grew up in the Imperial City being told that I was going to be judged on everything I said, everything I did. I had to build the reflex to second-guess every word I wanted to say, I messed up countless times before I even left the school playground." He linked his hands together, wincing. "I'm not sure that's something I can teach. Certainly not in a few hours or days. And I don't want to accidentally tell you to do something that's a bad idea, because I've seen far too many plays where someone's advice gets taken out of context and they embarrass themselves and I cringe in the audience and-"
"It's fine." Dulurza stopped him, sighing. "It's fine. It was a stupid idea."
There was a long silence.
Xander opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again-
And bells began to toll.
He frowned, looking over his shoulder. Every city had bells (at least the proper ones did, isn't that right Falkreath) and he could hear Solitude's tolling like there was no tomorrow.
"Weird." He mumbled. "It's not midday yet, is it? What's-"
That was when he started to hear the screaming. Echoing, desperate screams, compounded moments later by a roar that shook the walls of the palace.
"HELP!" Yelled a voice, from the front door. "THE CITY IS UNDER ATTACK!
IT'S A DRAGON!"
AHAHAHAHAHAHA-
For those who want to know, I did do the maths on the Eyes of the Falmer. Taking a single flawless diamond to be one carat and worth 1000 septims, we can take a variety of routes. If you go by the (totally nonsense) game weight that a diamond is 0.1 and the Eyes are 5, it should be worth 50k. A more accurate volume calculation (I generously said it was a 30 by 15cm spheroid) you get a value more like SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND septims. Maybe you say they're some lesser gem, sure, but these are still two of a kind ancient elf rocks like come on. Delvin Mallory is a thief-
Oh, wait, yeah, of course he is.
A lot happened in this chapter, and all of it is secondary because the gang is all together, finally! Took thirty five freaking chapters, but we got there.
So, naturally, I had to throw something at them to commemorate it.
Toss all your character arcs onto the back seat, people, we've got a city to save!
Next Time: What do you think's about to happen?