None of it felt real. The weight of the skirt as it swayed around her legs when she moved, the transformation of the great room of Morvayn manor as a servant guided them toward the table, and most of all how comfortable her hand felt gripping the smooth fabric over Teldryn's arm. It wasn't fair how gracefully he blended into the gilded upper crust, even if she knew he had no desire to. Perhaps that was why he would've worn his armor if given the choice, and as handsome as he was in his usual rugged attire she was glad she'd convinced him otherwise. In sleek, dark lines he was effortless beauty, solid black marble that trapped the eye. The red that edged his clothing picked up the crimson of his gaze as he cast it over the room taking measurements of all within, keen like an ebony dagger laced with blood.
The servant's gaze darted between them, the subtle calculations in her eyes reinforcing the disparity. She motioned to a pair of seats at what Vanya identified as the "end" of the table despite the fact that it was a perfect ring. She came to this conclusion due to the fact that the only other human, the elderly nord who managed the mine, was positioned next to her and their places were opposite the two chairs that were draped with heavy red and gold fabrics in evident preparation for the honored couple. A pedestal stood in the center of the ring, topped with an oddly arranged stack of wood that glowed from within. She figured it to be a magical illusion of fire but as she neared, the scent, sound, and faint wash of heat confirmed that it was indeed quite real.
"How is that not filling the room with smoke?" she asked as Teldryn pulled out her chair.
"It is a smokeless fire," he said, as if that was sufficient answer. She fell into the seat with a huff, rolling her eyes.
Crescius chuckled beside her. "It is indeed a smokeless fire," he said. "Called such because the method of building prevents the creation of smoke. Ingenious really," he leaned in, as if sharing a secret. "And very useful for those wishing to camp undetected."
"And for dinner parties," Teldryn drawled as he took his seat. Before he could settle in, his eyes cut behind her and he was on his back on his feet. Vanya turned to see Nalami approaching, wearing a fitted gown in a beautiful bronze shade, complete with a capelet similar to the one on her own. Teldryn pulled out her chair, next to him on the other side, the incongruity of his chivalry just adding to the overall surrealistic impression of the evening so far. Nalami spared Vanya a glance of acknowledgment as she was seated, quickly turning to greet the nobility cordially as Teldryn sat down once again.
"I believe I have the best seat in the house," Crescius announced. "Between these two lovely ladies." He tipped his head toward his wife with a grin. "You are the loveliest of course, my dear Aphia."
The dunmer woman tutted. "Don't think I've forgotten you tried to escape into the mine today. Don't be fooled, Vanya, I dragged him off the lift by his shirt collar this afternoon."
"Hmph!" He rubbed his neck absently. "I would've made it back in time."
"He is right about one thing, you do look quite lovely," she said, looking Vanya over. "That color is outstanding."
"Like it was made for you," Crescius added. "Very pleasing, indeed." Though his look was kindly and their words were pleasant enough, all Vanya felt at the moment was the mask of paint on her face. She gave them a thin smile. Crescius knit his brow. "Bah- I'm sure you've heard enough from him," he demurred, motioning to Teldryn.
She met Teldryn's eyes and it seemed both of them realized at the same time that, no, she hadn't heard anything at all from him. To be fair, she hadn't said all that much to him about how he looked either. Instead, she'd spent the time as they headed to manor explaining why his room was a wreck even though he hadn't even asked about it. He listened politely but she could feel his focus was pointed elsewhere and honestly, that had been a relief.
"From one daft old man to another," Crescius mock whispered, leaning across her to address Teldryn. "Don't make her guess as to what you think, eh?"
"Thank you, Crescius," Vanya said finally, putting her palms out on the table to claim her space, or perhaps in the hopes to physically push down this thread of conversation. "You both look very nice as well."
Any further comment from the man was put to rest as a everyone's attention was directed to a commotion from the hallway. A ripple of coos and gasps spread as Modyn and Dreyla entered, both resplendently adorned in red and gold brocades. As the couple made their way to the head of the table, it was as if the guests were drawn to their own seats in orbit. Music unlike anything Vanya had ever head was playing and she looked around for the source, spotting a man with a stringed instrument in the far corner. His manner of dress would've made her mistake him for a beggar on the street and he seemed to be in his own world as he picked a gentle and soulful song from the strings adding soft percussion with his hands on the wooden body. For the briefest moment, Vanya felt a cool breeze as if she were standing in an open grassy field with locusts heralding the dusk.
The serenity faded into the background as Elder Othreloth cleared his throat roughly. He stood at the table a couple of places away from Aphia and raised his arms in welcome.
"Friends and honored guests," he began. "We have gathered here this eve for the commencement of a new era in the lives of two who are very dear to us. For we will soon witness the joining of their hearts, families, and destinies." He lowered his arms, folding his hands together as she'd seen him do many times when waxing on in the temple. "Our Great Ancestors bestow upon us many tests in life. They can be fickle, cruel, merciless- Yes, it is true. Just as it is true that a sword is not forged without blistering heat. Those of us that endure, our perseverance affords us grace and love, abundant knowledge and -at times- tremendous power beyond what we can achieve on our own." The priest turned slightly to face the couple. "And on this blessed day, Modyn Veleth, Captain of the Guard in Raven Rock- our beloved home and the frontier establishment of House Redoran on the island- and Dreyla Alor, an esteemed and valued member of our community, begin the process of folding their lives into one another so that they may face the trials ahead together, unified, as one..."
As usual, it didn't take long for Vanya's thoughts to drift as Othreloth's voice settled into a familiar droning. She looked around the table at the others as they all handled the priest's lengthy presentation with varying degrees of politeness. Modyn's side of the table was stoic as could be, naturally, since they consisted of nobility and high government officials. The only one giving himself away with an expression that teetered between boredom and incredulity was the one next to Modyn, who she could only guess was his father. That suspicion was further supported by the fact that Modyn's mother was beside him, throwing the occasional look of disapproval his way. Or perhaps that was just her face.
On the other side, Councilors Morvayn and Arano nodded along with the sermon and Fethis even hummed a few solemn affirmations. At some point, Crescius had begun lightly snoring. Aphia elbowed him awake when his head started to droop and he sat up quickly with a snort. The sudden action caused a few to look his way, including Dreyla. Vanya had never seen contempt flicker in her friend's eyes and it caught her so off guard she wasn't sure what to do when that gaze passed over her, then to Teldryn. She wished desperately that she could speak with Dreyla to clear the air, or at least tell her how pretty she looked with those golden chains draped in her hair that so nicely complimented yet another stunning and elaborate dress.
A dress that was predominantly red. The only other red dress besides hers, Vanya realized with a sudden pang of horror that stabbed her in the gut.
Fuck. Had she just worn white to a wedding?
She stared into the glowing centerpiece as her mind raced. Teldryn's mother would not play such a cruel joke, would she? And Aphia made mention of the color in a positive way. Unless that was her subtle method of pointing out the faux pas. No, no. There were others wearing red and gold, including the three Councilors from Morrowind. Although they wore only sashes and even then only accented with red. Surely, if there was a problem with her outfit, Teldryn would have caught it. Right?
She turned to him just as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Should you happen to be guessing what I think, Khes'yi- which you most definitely shouldn't- you are so very beautiful."
Her brain flew right past his words with the barest of acknowledgment as the current social emergency took precedence. "Is it okay that I'm wearing red, too?", she asked, straining to keep her voice under her breath.
Teldryn frowned, blinking at her in confusion. She darted her eyes in Dreyla's direction, then back to him.
"Oh...um," his face pinched as if he still just barely understood. "I don't think it matters."
"You don't think it matters...," she said, well aware by now that his opinions were not always shared by the room. "But is it customary or not?"
He shook his head. "Not that I know of."
It wasn't a definitive answer, but it was enough to settle her nerves. Even if Dreyla didn't like it, the colors were the only similarity and hardly even a close match at that. Vanya relaxed into her chair as Teldryn slid his hand over her thigh, giving a light squeeze. It was just as he said, it didn't matter.
She rested her hand on his. "And thank you," she said sheepishly, remembering his compliment.
Their attention returned to the table as servants circled it to place a small brass tray and dried sprig in front of each person. As soon as hers touched the table, Teldryn pulled his hand from her leg placed it over the sprig, sliding it toward himself. His expression told her to wait when she made to question him about it.
"...and so it is at the commencement of this grand affair that we offer roobrush to the flame." Othreloth announced, lifting his sprig into the air. It ignited between his fingers, the small flame followed by others as everyone participated. Teldryn offered hers back, setting it alight imperceptibly as she took it. It was mere moments before she had to drop hers into the ashtray, meanwhile Teldryn let his crumble into embers over his fingers.
"From ash it spawns," Othreloth said. "In ash it thrives, and in ash it is laid to rest."
Teldryn lowered the his hand to the tray and dusted off what was left. He met her eyes and flashed a smirk that made her breath catch and she wondered if she'd ever get over that. Probably not. And why would she want to anyway?
Elder Othreloth took his seat and the silence that followed was brief as the man Vanya had guessed to be Modyn's father raised to his feet.
"A rousing oratory, my good priest, truly. It has inspired me to offer a few words of my own." He put his hands up. "Do not be alarmed, my friends, for I will not delay our feast for long as I request your indulgence. It is, after all, my son's destiny of which we speak. I would be remiss to not share these words, borne of the wisdom of Vivec..." He exhaled thoughtfully, picking up his ashtray. "Wisdom that I have lived, and found to be rooted in truth."
He lifted the tray in front of him. "Love is so often likened to the flame. And rightly so, for it comes with urgency, it is consuming, yet it leaves us with naught but ash to drift in the wind. We all know it well, do we not?" He looked around before replacing the tray on the table. "Fashion your love instead as moving water. Consider the seas in their abundance, their constant presence, their persistent renewal. Water flows freely, it smooths the rough edges where it is allowed, it cools the tongue of the parched and weary. And though it can be a medium of terrible destruction, just as the flame, it is water that carries with it new life. Its power cannot be overstated, a power that you both now hold." He faced the couple, his voice still carrying through the room though he spoke to them directly. "Over the course of this life you build, you may enrich one another in the valley of your union, or dam yourselves to a barren waste of your own creation. Let us take our example from the Warrior Poet, who declared love under his will. So yours can be if you choose."
A pleasant murmur traveled around the table as Dayn reseated himself. Aphia raised her drink, declaring loudly, "Gher Neen."
Othreloth stirred, looking quite ready to start round two of his pontification. Fortunately, Councilor Arano quickly called for the meal to begin, rescuing them from a battle of the ancients.
Servants delivered a series of courses, which Vanya was very grateful to have previewed the night before. As she picked at the foods that she knew she could stomach she found herself enjoying her little section of the circle. Crescius and Aphia talked of how they met and how Aphia conducted their wedding herself, since she was actually a priest. That and apparently she and Othreloth had a bit of a falling out.
"That's how she knows I love 'er," Crescius said, starting to slur from the wine. "Pledged my devotion even as she came at me with a hot poker." He acted out stabbing himself in the right earlobe where his earring was located.
Aphia laughed, "And I'd do it again."
It was a pretty intense ritual, in Vanya's opinion, to include the ear piercing into the ceremony itself. And she learned- because she asked- that it was very looked down upon to use a pre-existing hole. The placement of the earrings varied, based on the individual, which Vanya confirmed with a glance around the table. Modyn's parents, Dayn and Kelani, wore theirs high on the cartilage of their ears, both on the right side. Arano and Cindiri's were lower, his on the left and hers on the right. Now that Vanya was looking, she realized she'd never given the gold ring in Fethis' left ear much thought. And with Nalami's hair pulled back, it was revealed that she wore one extra ring on her right lobe at the end of a row of three ruby studs.
An intense ritual, perhaps, but ultimately she concluded it to be a smart one. Considering her ring was lost, she could see the benefit of having it literally attached to her body. Not that it would have really helped much in her case.
She looked at Teldryn and received another reassuring nod. He'd been doing that all throughout dinner, refraining from participating in any discussion except to share a few hushed words with his mother. Contrary to his demeanor for most of the day, he was no longer distracted or lost in thought. It seemed to Vanya that he was paying very close attention, like a Doberman on guard.
Finally the last of the dinner courses were cleared from the table, replaced with samplers of various desserts. Right in the center- among the pastries, dried fruits and candied nuts- was a dark, scaly sphere that ruined the spread, in her opinion.
"Balvish!" Dayn exclaimed from across the table. His chair scraped on the floor as he stood again, raising the balvish in his palm. "All my life this existed to me as a culinary enigma. And that was fine with me." He reached down and retrieved the one from his wife's plate and began juggling the two with one hand. "Ah, but the close quarters of that ship out there afforded me the fortune of a boredom so great that even the most mundane of subjects became riveting. Aside from learning how each dish we've enjoyed tonight is prepared, the design of this delicacy proved a fascinating delight." In a fluid motion he replaced his wife's balvish to her plate, ignoring her furious hissing as he brought his back up to display in his fingertips.
"First, the acid gland is removed and mixed with spiced cuttle. Then the mixture is spread on the soft underside and the creature is rolled up tight, the legs tucked in neatly. The outside is sealed with resin and it is set on a shelf for no less than three weeks while the innards break down." He shook the balvish close to his ear to hear the sloshing of the liquid inside. "The process can be mimicked in a few days with the application of heat, but Gahvehrumag insisted to me that it does not produce the proper chymification."
He grinned widely as he cracked the shell.
"This, my friends, is why it tastes so divine. Because it has achieved CHIM."
The apparent joke, which missed her entirely, was met with groans and chuckles alike. Dayn tipped the balvish into his mouth with a smug expression she'd only seen rivaled by Teldryn.
"Clever."
A hush fell over the room as everyone looked to the source of the voice, the High Councilors nearly snapping their necks to look behind them. Dayn suppressed a cough having been caught mid-sip.
"It has been some time since I've witnessed one of Vivec's fools," the voice continued as a dunmer stepped out from the shadows, causing Teldryn to bolt straight up in his chair. The man was of average height with a shaved head a long pointed beard, unremarkable in looks except for the outfit he wore, an armored robe with wide leather pauldrons and an unusual series of swirling symbols down the front. His slanted eyes were dark and so uniformly red that it was hard to differentiate his irises, though not to the point that it couldn't be determined where he was looking. In fact, something about the way the light reflected in his gaze as it made its way around the table made her want to shrink down and hide, as if his passing glance would reap too much information.
Just as he took a breath to speak further, one of the High Councilors whirled from his seat. "Neloth! After all that you've done, you dare to show yourself here. You shall answer to my father- " The Councilor's lips sealed together in an instant as Neloth pinched his fingers in the air, his sudden movement causing others around the table to get to their feet, including Teldryn. None moved further as the Councilor flailed, clawing at his face.
Neloth regarded the group with a twitch of annoyance in his brow. "Funny that you should mention it," he said conversationally. "I had not intended to show myself. I came to collect this roobrush..." He lifted the flap of a satchel on his waist, revealing the stems of the sprigs he'd stashed away. "It is difficult to acquire quality specimens when the hired help lacks the ability to discern. Or they die in their excursions. I've not decided which is more aggravating." He sighed. "In any case, this was a task I needed to see to personally. And what luck favors me for as I was preparing to return home, I'm presented with another rare opportunity."
Kelani's balvish floated from her plate, traveling to Neloth's outstretched hand, which he stashed into another pocket of his robe. "Had I expected such an agreeable menu, I might've taken offense to being excluded from the guest list." He turned toward the door, shaking his head. "All this way for a wedding...Oh!" He stopped as if he'd only just remembered the muted Councilor, who was leaning against the wall breathing heavily, having given up his struggle. "You may speak, now."
"Traitor!" The Councilor spat, jabbing his finger in Neloth's direction. "Conspirator! Blasphemer!"
"Remember yourself, Councilor," Neloth replied. "No need to shout."
The Councilor heaved a breath, only flinching a little bit as Neloth fully faced him. "Then what say you, Kena? Would you like to explain your outright betrayal to your countrymen? What you have done to put their lives and countless others in danger?"
"Countless," Neloth said thoughtfully. "Such exaggeration. How many of ours reside here, f'lah? Covering them with ash does not make them countrymen."
"You are." The pointed finger raised again. "And yet you don't hesitate to assist the Dragonborn in undermining us."
"Ahhhh..." Neloth folded his hands behind him, looking as if he finally understood. "The soul of a dragon within nordic flesh. One such as him does not need my assistance to impose his will."
"Precisely! His hunger for power bears no allegiance. He gathers it to himself in all forms, just as he rips the souls from his own brethren."
Neloth shrugged as he considered. "Then it would be wise to prove oneself useful. Isn't that right, Teldryn Sero, blade for hire?" Vanya's stomach dropped as Neloth turned to Teldryn, advancing a few steps. "You are certainly useful." Teldryn was still as stone as Neloth's eyes trailed from him down to her. Everything in her screamed to look away but his gaze locked hers like a magnet. "And always consorting with such strange types," he remarked as he looked back up to Teldryn with a wry grin. "Come across any good books lately?"
"See this?" The Councilor interrupted. "How brazen they are! Spies and vagrants teeming right in our midst."
"That's not true!" Everyone looked to Fethis, who faltered for a moment under the weight of the sudden attention. "I would not presume to make claims for Master Neloth," he said placatingly. "But Teldryn...he is not as you say Councilor. Teldryn has proved honorable."
"And what is your word worth, skeever of the Empire?" The Councilor returned derisively. "Did you know you played right into the Ulfric's hand or did you chew the wrong end of the wickwheat to become so impaired? You all see now the plot that unfolds freely under the careful watch of our esteemed First Councilor." He leveled his eyes on Morvayn. "Perhaps there is need for the leadership here to be called to account."
Before Morvayn could respond, Arano dropped his fist onto the table. "Preposterous! You have shown nothing to substantiate what you accuse, Councilor Llethri. Whether or not the Dragonborn has intentions in regard to Solstheim, that does not change the truth that many of us here have fought and bled for our home. And in our time of desperate need, it was not the Council that pulled us back from the brink."
Councilor Llethri raised his brow and Arano shrunk back like a child who was out of line. "Bold words, Second Councilor, please do elaborate."
"I meant-" Arano stuttered. "I only meant that..."
"That it would be prudent to wait for my scouts to return with tangible evidence," Modyn stated firmly.
Councilor Llethri scoffed. "Your scouts." He pointed to Teldryn. "As honorable as him, I presume?"
Modyn's pressed his lips into a thin line, offering nothing more than a troubled look Teldryn's direction.
"Sers," Morvayn said gently. "Please, this is to be a happy occasion." It was a valiant attempt at reminding everyone why they were here, though the horrified look on Dreyla's face showed that the original intention was entirely spoiled. "May we retire to my quarters to have this discussion?"
Neloth harrumphed loudly. "Now I am invited! Or rather indicted, if some had their way. I'm afraid I must decline, as I have far more important matters to attend to." With that, he reached into his robe and in less than a second he blinked out of existence with an unsettling sucking sound.
Councilor Llethri visibly relaxed with Neloth's absence and he addressed Morvayn. "With all due respect, First Councilor, my colleagues and I shall convene privately to deliberate for now."
"Ah, Councilor Llethri," Dayn said. "Does that exclude me?"
The Councilor nearly rolled his eyes. "Yes."
"I see. Then if I may pose a question for your consideration."
The Councilor opened his arms, in mock invitation.
Dayn straightened his back with a pleasant smile. "To preface, the Dragonborn's presence here was well-known for many months and in my visits with our Archmaster, the overwhelming sentiment of the Council pertaining to the man's true potential was one of dismissal. A mistake, I thought, as I'll not make a judgment on the validity of hearsay without a firsthand report. Don't you agree?"
The Councilor blinked. "Is that your question, Serjo?"
"Forgive me, forgive me," Dayn said quickly. "Of course you do. Where my curiosity lies is in what has prompted you to so strongly account for the Dragonborn's purported influence? Or to be more specific- Why now?"
"Recent events have put him in my path for closer examination." Councilor Llethri replied, tilting his head. "These are merely my conclusions."
Dayn raised a finger. "Speculation."
"If those given command of Raven Rock were more diligent, perhaps that would not be the case," Councilor Llethri replied, no longer hiding his irritation. "As it is, all we have are a few buried ships to search for the smallest shred of clarity, if your son's scouts are worth a damn. Until that clarity is presented, none shall be spared my speculation."
"Fair enough," Dayn replied with a bow of his head. "My thanks for your attention."
All was still as Councilor Llethri and his two colleagues crossed the room toward the hallway, although the moment their backs were turned Dayn's eyes darted between Modyn and Teldryn. Something in the Councilor's words had prompted them to stare at one another with an intensity that could spark an inferno, and Dayn seemed to be gauging their reaction.
Vanya was wondering herself what Councilor Llethri had meant by a few ships. Hadn't Teldryn burned only two?
Her musing was cut short as the moment the Councilors were gone the room erupted in a flurry of movement. Teldryn talked briskly with his mother then met up with Modyn and Dayn who had already been halfway to him. Dreyla was crying audibly as Fethis led her away. As Vanya pushed up to her feet, Nalami caught her arm.
"Come," she said. "This night is done and I will have my dress back."
Vanya blindly followed Nalami's lead, glancing back over her shoulder to try and catch Teldryn's eye. They were entering the hallway when he looked, giving a final attempt at a reassuring nod as he passed from her view.
