Interlude: Hearthfire (4)

8 Sun's Height, 4E206

"I love you," she whispers against my neck, trembling a little no matter how tightly I hold her. "I love you, I love you, dear heart, vita mea. Please… please do not—"

"You know I won't," I cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. I'm holding her so tight that, if she weren't the Dragonborn, I swear it'd break her bones. I kiss her sweaty hair, my heart heavy. "I'm here. Still here. It was just a dream."

The sun is just beginning to rise.

"I know." Even though her voice is weak, she still sounds surprised. "Beautiful spirit… beautiful heart… big enough even to make space for one so undeserving as myself. I am yours. I love you. I am yours, yours always. I cannot lose you. I cannot—"

"Amara," I cut in again. "Amara…" I call her name gently, soothingly, and rub her back with an open palm. She shudders. "Hey."

When she doesn't respond, I nudge her head with my own.

"Hmm?"

"I'm here," I repeat because she needs to hear it. "I don't want to be anywhere else." I nudge her again so she'll pull back enough to let me press my face against hers. "No one makes me feel… human like you do. You give me a sense of purpose, a reason to try and make peace with myself. You and our pretty little magic baby."

I pull back a little more to look into those striking, now-glossy, lovely blue eyes. Her hair is a mess and she's a little pale and she'd still have all my attention even if Dibella herself were to walk through my door.

I give her a gentle smile and say: "That's a fancy way of saying I love you too."

She doesn't say anything in return, she just kisses me hard and pulls me on top of her and buries her face against my neck. I cover her and let her feel most of my weight because that's what she needs: a warm shield, a reminder of our mutual and unspoken promise. We're stuck together, for better or for worse.

We stay like this for a little while, quiet and calm while the room grows brighter and brighter. Corinna will be getting up soon.

"Want me to go tell Leon you're feeling sick?" I offer after I feel her pulse ease up.

She sighs quietly. "I would never hear the end of it… and I doubt he would believe you."

"I doubt it too, but," I shrug, "I'll try if you need some quiet time. It's not the end of the world if you don't teach today."

"So say you now, but you do not know Leon as well as I do. I have a reason for refusing to make bets with him on most things. I was a fool for agreeing to one this time." I feel a soft kiss on my throat, and then another. "Believe you me, I would never hear the end of it."

"I wasn't expecting him to win either, if it's any consolation." She's tracing a finger down my spine and I try not to shiver or react too much. She just wants to feel me and now isn't the time to make much more of it, not while she might still be upset.

"Not with Faralda, of all people!" She gripes, still sore about it, apparently. I'm just glad she's found something else to think about now. "How was I to know that she fancied him already? I honestly thought she found him annoying and would quickly decline." She gives me one last kiss before pushing gently on my shoulders, indicating that she's ready to get up. I roll over to watch her get ready.

"It was a long shot. I've never spent much time around her, and the few times I have, I've never smelled desire or anything… though I wasn't paying much attention, either. He didn't ask to court her just to win your bet, did he? That's not exactly fair to her." My eyes follow the enticing sway of her stride as she moves to her wardrobe.

She shakes her head. "The bet is amusing to him, but he is not so heartless or shallow. No, the only woman to suffer shall be me. I knew better than to take his bait. Divines help me, but I knew."

I laugh. "Is it really so bad? All you have to do is teach a class. As far as losing bets goes, that's a pretty mild penalty."

"For most people, perhaps, but I do not have the patience for it. Worse still, I will be forced to endure his smug face the entire time." She turns to face me while she ties the sash of her robes. They're the sort worn by masters of Destruction magic, or so I'm told, and she doesn't wear them very often even though I secretly wish she would. They hug her hips in a way that makes my mouth water.

I don't do much to hide it, either, what with the obvious up-and-down look I give her. She catches it and raises an eyebrow, a classic expression of hers, and I'm glad to see how my appreciation seems to inflate her ego. She needs that right now.

I smirk. "Love, I don't think anyone in that audience is gonna be more smug than me."

She comes back to the bed to kiss me again. "Thank you," she whispers, smiling against my lips, and I'm sure she's saying a thousand other things with those two words. Then she pads over to her mirror and finally sees the glorious disaster that is her hair. "Ecastor! Why did you not say anything?"

"Oh, you know that saying," I reply sweetly. "The one about love being blind, and all."

I narrowly miss the doll she tosses at my head, grinning. Corinna's little toys always seem to end up scattered all over our room. "How nice that I amuse you," she retorts. Then she studies her reflection for another few seconds before raising her hands and magicking her hair into order.

It's amazing what you can do with magic if you're creative, I've learned.

I hum an agreement and stretch. After a second or two I hear the kid and her dog stirring in the other room, so I get up and dress myself before she can burst in here and see more of me than she ought.

I'm fastening my belt just as I open the door for her, though it's Amara who snatches her up first. "Mane bonum, my darling frazzled little ragamuffin. Your hair looks nearly as fascinating as mine just was."

I'm not sure what's funnier in all this: the students' nervousness or Amara's frustration with them.

It's no secret that she's the Dragonborn and an Aestus and the Arch-Mage's sister. The whole audience is a silent cloud of nerves and it's impossible to tell if Amara's lesson is actually reaching them because they're all too afraid of her to make a sound.

"The crucial component of any automaton is its red gem, without which it could not move. Calcelmo of Markarth has hypothesized that these red gems are in fact soul gems that have been altered through yet-unknown processes, as is perhaps evidenced by the filled or half-filled soul gems found among the wreckage of many a fallen automaton. He makes a valid observation. However," she pauses to pull something from her weird magical satchel, "let us re-examine the centurion dynamo core."

She holds the thing up for everyone to see, obviously pleased with herself. For my part, I honestly have no idea how she can still find the Dwarves interesting after everything we went through in their ruins.

"This one comes from a long-silent workshop in the ancient city of Alftand, recovered and brought here by my own hands. Now, let us first consider the casing—"

I look down when Corinna tries, once again, to wriggle out of my grasp and run toward the front of the lecture hall and her other mother. She doesn't seem to understand that she's not allowed, or if she does, then she only seems to want to do it because it's forbidden. In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to bring her in here at all… but I didn't know what else I could've done with her.

"Corinna," I scold as quietly as I can and pick her up. She fights me the whole time, growing upset.

Just as I'm motioning to Leon that I'll take her outside, she gives me her most spirited squirm yet and shouts "Mama!" as loudly as she can, all frustrated and teary-eyed.

Amara startles mid-sentence and nearly drops the dynamo core, catching it in the last second. I can see that her cheeks are a little red when she looks up again, not that it really matters: most of her audience is fixed on me and Corinna now, all while the kid keeps on with her shouting and I'm doing my best to inch my sorry way out the door. So much for enjoying the show.

"Mama! I want Mama!" I've got to give her some credit for all the effort she's putting in, though she's still going to be in a lot of trouble as soon as we're out of this room.

Amara sighs and puts the dynamo core on a nearby table. Then, to my surprise, she says: "Let her come, then, Lydia."

I'm confused, but I do as she asks and put Corinna back down. Just as soon as her feet are on the ground, she's sprinting as fast as her little legs will carry her and right into her other mother's waiting arms.

Amara stands back up and balances our kid on her hip, bouncing her a little, and the girl's face is pressed tight against her mother's shoulder. "My daughter, Corinna," she says to the class after a second. "Pardon her. As is obvious, she is very young yet."

I'm quick to notice that all the tension in the hall seems to have broken. I guess the sight of the mighty Dragonborn holding her crying three-year-old makes her look a lot more human and approachable.

And then, even more surprisingly, a tentative hand comes up from the audience. "Is it true she was with you all through your quest against Alduin… uh… ma'am?"

I take stock: Amara looks lost, the student seems like she's about to faint, Corinna's still blubbering, the rest of the class is deathly silent, and Leon looks like he's about to die laughing. Beside us, Faralda and a few other higher-up wizards range from amusement to outright cringing.

Finally, a little haltingly, she says: "Well… through most of it… yes?"

Another nervous hand shoots up. "Could you tell us how you used the palace in Whiterun to… uh… capture a dragon?"

She looks all around the room. It's obvious that she's unsure if she wants to field these kinds of questions. But: "There is an ancient trap built into its Great Porch… Ah, built by Olaf One-Eye, I believe, for the dragon Numinex. There I called a challenge to a dragon named Odahviing, and lured him into it."

And another: "Is it true you went to Sovngarde?"

"Yes," she answers flatly. "And yes, it was in Sovngarde that I vanquished Alduin completely and forever by absorbing his soul. Now may I continue with my lecture, or am I to assume that it will fall on deaf ears?"

Tense silence again. Corinna, meanwhile, refuses to let Amara put her down. "No, Mama!"

So she gives in, shifts Corinna a bit higher up for comfort, huffs, and says: "Oh very well. You may ask your questions, so long as they be intelligent and worth answering."

Three hands. Amara nods to one of them. "Is the Thu'um a form of magic?"

She takes a second before answering. "I have pondered this myself. My core supply of magicka never seems to diminish when I use it, but this does not necessarily indicate that the Thu'um is non-magical. Its use requires a great deal more introspection than does magic, but the end results are, in a way, similar. In truth, I find it is more a matter of philosophy than raw power."

She nods to another hand. "What's it like to absorb a dragon's soul?"

"It is…" She tips her head up, just a bit, in thought. "It is… like falling through thin ice: so cold it feels hot, and you cannot breathe, and memories flow before you in a river… only in this case, they are not your own."

Another: "So has absorbing Alduin made you the new World-Eater?"

Something in her expression darkens, but I think it's too minute to be apparent to anyone who doesn't know her as well as me or Leon. "No," she says with a kind of finality, and then nods to another waiting hand.

She still won't tell me very much about her dreams.

Hand after hand pops up, question after question. Really it makes sense that they'd be interested: after all, it's not every day that the citizens of Skyrim have the opportunity to speak face-to-face with the legendary Dragonborn. Even among the general student body here, Amara's something of a rare sight. It's not that she's a recluse, not exactly, but she also doesn't take pains to socialize with the majority of the College.

One student leans toward another and whispers into his ear, but I still hear it: "Someone ought to ask her who the hell the father is."

The two snicker. I clench my teeth.

I'm just about to take a seat behind them and say something really threatening when the main doors to the lecture hall suddenly burst open and a disheveled-looking wizard rushes into the room. "Aestus!"

And then I recognize him.

I move quickly, putting myself between Septimus Signus and my family, not letting him get any nearer to them. Leon moves to the man's back, ready to second me.

"Aestus, you deceiver! Thief! So long has poor Septimus awaited your return to his icy prison, yet you never came! Day after day with the infernal lockbox. Close and far to the god's heart! Return the lexicon to Septimus!"

"Out," I growl and grab the man by the scruff of his collar and start dragging him back out the doors. "Out!"

Leon motions to several of his wizards and one of them ties the madman's hands in magical binds while the rest form a formidable escort. They're probably going to lock him away somewhere until this mess is sorted out.

"Give Septimus his lexicon!" He keeps shouting as the wizards take him from me, allowing me to take my place at Amara's side. "In the box, the heart of a god! Give it to Septimus!"

She isn't saying anything. She's just staring him down steadily, her arms tight around our baby, protecting her.

A murmur flares up in the audience as the doors swing back shut. I catch snatches of similar conversations all around the hall:

"… wrote the Ruminations?"

"He's a madman…"

"Did he mean the ice fields…?"

"… heart of what god…?"

"Has he found the Heart of Lorkhan…?"

Something, I don't know what, suddenly calls Amara to action. She holds Corinna tight against her breast and covers one of the girl's ears with a hand before she speaks. When she does, I can hear a very slight touch of the Thu'um in her voice: "Quiet!" Her command echoes off the high stone walls. Leon re-enters the room just then, and the two of them share a look. "That is all for today," she continues at a more normal volume, taking long strides toward the doors as she speaks. "Your normal sessions will resume on the morrow."

She doesn't even wait for her sentence to finish before walking out of the hall, Leon and myself close behind her. We follow her into the Arch-Mage's tower and then to Leon's office, where the two of them often share tea. She strides right in and takes her usual seat, never letting go of Corinna.

"Will you make black tea for us, please, Leon? And will you call someone to bring Duran here?" She doesn't look at him as she asks. Corinna's little face is between her palms. "Hush, ocelle. Hush." She kisses the girl's forehead, and then her cheek. "Lydia?"

I take the invitation to approach and rest a hand on Amara's shoulder. I'm not about to admit it to her, but privately I'm feeling just a bit helpless. It's not like the mad wizard's committed any specific crime, it's just that he's startled my daughter and dredged up memories of a time my woman and I would rather leave aside.

"Hey now." I ruffle my daughter's hair. "Come on, you're alright."

"Why was he yelling?" She's looking up at me with big glassy eyes. I swear this kid could shatter me to a million pieces if she tried hard enough.

"He was…" I shrug, trying to make the situation seem less serious than it is. "He was just… excited, I guess?" I hear Duran's clicking in the far hall. He'll be in here any second.

"He sounded mad." Corinna presses herself harder against Amara's breast.

A corner of Amara's mouth twitches at the word, but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to: the dog bursts through Leon's door just then and is quick to take up all of Corinna's attention. She wiggles out of her mother's lap to go play with him on the hearth rug while I take my usual seat and light my pipe.

Leon comes back with a steaming kettle, and brother and sister take a few seconds to serve themselves before settling in to talk.

"There are a few holding cells in the uppermost part of the Midden," Leon says in a low voice, glancing at Corinna for just a second. "I locked him there myself, but I cannot keep him there for long. I am… unsure of the legality of his arrest."

"You're the highest authority here. Holding him is legal if you say you have a good reason to do it," I offer. All those years in the Whiterun Guard didn't leave me ignorant, after all.

"But do we have a good reason?" He asks us both, spreading his hands as he does. "Technically the… ah… lexicon does belong to him, and madman or no, he is still an official member of the College."

"He disturbed the peace," I deadpan, and look to Amara for input, but she's just watching Corinna. I reach a hand out. "Hey."

She breaks her stare and covers my hand with her own. "Free him, then," she says without much emotion.

Leon looks surprised and I probably do, too. "That's it?" I ask.

She shrugs. "He is indeed mad if he thinks I will give him the lexicon. I know not what that lockbox contains, but it shall not fall into his hands if I can help it. If he wants it, then he will have to duel me first. Winterhold law will not gainsay the Dragonborn."

"He claims it contains the Heart of Lorkhan," Leon muses over his cup. "I share in your hesitance, Mara mea, but I… am bothered by one thing. Well, many things really, but one is of more immediate importance: the scene he caused. Half the College was in that lecture hall, and all of them heard him."

I perk my head up toward the door. Someone is coming, someone tall, with quiet footsteps and long strides. I sniff the air: elf… High Elf, female, a touch of stress and a touch of excitement. Faralda.

She knocks twice before entering the office, and shuts the door behind her with a soft click. I inhale again: hesitation, new affection, a light arousal… probably tempered by the current situation. I pick up on all of this, regardless of whether or not I actually want to pick up on it, because now it's just impossible to miss. Leon gets to his feet.

"Has something happened?" He asks her gently, switching from his native Latine to the common language.

She looks composed enough, I guess, but I can detect the slight increase in stress. "Oh… not really, no. I just wanted to make sure you… Should I not have come?"

Leon, who had himself already been stressed, suddenly starts to really stink of it as he realizes the elf's motives for coming in here. I know there's a madman currently locked up in the Midden, but it's hard not to smirk and nudge Amara's boot with my own. Neither of us are gossips or busybodies, but we're both glad to see that Leon's managed to find a measure of peace for himself after everything he's been through.

"You are always welcome in here, of course." He pulls the table's only empty chair out for her and gestures for her to sit, then catches her up on our conversation as he pours her a cup of tea. "One thing bothers me still, no matter that Signus remains in his prison or is set free," he continues as he retakes his seat. His eyes dart all over the elf. I wonder if he knows he's doing it. "Many students will think now that the Heart of Lorkhan awaits discovery in the northern ice."

It's funny to hear him suddenly speak in the common language, since Faralda doesn't speak Latine. His accent is much thicker than Amara's is, and his manner of speaking is much more obviously foreign.

"What does it matter?" Amara quips as she begins slicing up an apple. "Even I cannot read the lexicon, and it is the supposed key. Even if a student were to find the lockbox, they have no chance of opening it. I say let them try."

"No, it is the journey that concerns me. What if some become lost or injured? They could die."

She waves a dismissive hand. "And still the lockbox will remain sealed, as it should."

"All heart as ever, Amara," Faralda says with obvious sarcasm, but without any real barbs. Amara doesn't seem to bristle at the comment. She once told me that she and Faralda know each other from their days in the Synod and tend to have that sort of banter between them.

"You tease, but my resolve has more heart behind it than you might think. Besides, we can do nothing to prevent a few students from being curious. They will go no matter what we say or do." She gets up, then, to bring a small plate of apple slices over to Corinna.

This conversation is already getting a little too circular for me. Idly, I glance down at the knife she used to cut the apple. It's a good piece of craftsmanship, a replica of Dwarven cutlery made from ancient scrap metal.

Amara and Leon are more than rich enough to be able to afford little oddities like these: since no modern smith's been able to reproduce Dwarven metal from scratch, newly-forged Dwarven armors and tools have to be made by melting down bits of metal salvaged from their ruins, which makes such products understandably expensive.

And then it hits me.

"They could still cut through it," I blurt out over whatever Leon has begun saying. The three other adults in the room give me looks of confusion. Mages. Goddamn mages. Never touched a forge in their whole lives. I hold up Amara's little knife. "Look, like this thing. Lexicon or no, that lockbox isn't impervious."

Amara rises slowly. "Darling," she says like I'm a child or sick or something, "I doubt that even the most… ah… determined treasure hunter would try to slice his way through a wall of metal with a fruit knife. Or… any knife, really. Are you feeling quite well?"

"No, no, not the knife. Talos, I'm not that stupid—uh, I mean…" I trail off when I realize I just said the name of my illegal god in front of a damned High Elf. Shit.

Faralda catches on quickly and raises a placating hand. "As if I'd want to piss off the Chief of Hircine, the Dragonborn, and the Arch-Mage of Winterhold all in one fell swoop. And anyway, if I'd wanted to be up to my eyeballs in Altmer ideals, I'd have stayed in the Summerset Isles."

I furrow my brow, glad to hear her dismissal, but suddenly curious about one point: A lot of the mages here know I'm a werewolf, but… "How do you know I'm the Chief of Hircine?"

She points to my right hand, where I still wear Hircine's Ring on my finger, even after all these years. "The literature is sparse, but it does exist. Remind me to lend you a few of my books. I think you might like them."

"Uh… alright." I glance down at the fruit knife, trying to regain my earlier thought. "Anyway, no, I… I mean heat. Like this knife. They had to melt Dwarven metal to make it. I'm saying that Dwarven metal can be melted."

Amara crosses her arms, scowling a bit. "I had not thought of that."

"Nor I," Leon adds, staring into his cup.

"But how many of us can actually produce a magical fire that hot? We three and a few other senior scholars, maybe, but the younger students? They don't have the stamina." Faralda picks up another knife from the table and weighs it in her hands as she talks.

"No, but it can be done," Leon says, and he and Amara share a look before he continues: "Word will spread beyond the College, and sooner or later, there will be a mage who will come to the same conclusion that Lydia just has. But when that will be… we cannot know."

Amara comes close to me. I let her take my pipe from my hand. She doesn't smoke much, and I don't mind sharing with her. "What is there to be done, then?"

"If Signus is right, if the box does hold the Heart of Lorkhan…" Leon drums his fingers on the table. "It cannot fall into the wrong hands, Mara mea."

"The lesser evil, then," she mumbles, more to herself than the rest of us. She exhales a small cloud of smoke, her eyes fixed on our daughter, small and oblivious and content as the kid is with her lunch of apple slices. Must be nice.

I rest a gentle, protective, possessive hand on the small of my woman's back. She leans a little into my touch. "Better us than someone else." Then I give Leon a pointed look. "Just… let's not see a repeat of that situation with the Eye of Magnus. Whatever's in that box, if it's dangerous, we should either move it somewhere safer or destroy it."

He hums an agreement. "We will do all we can. Mara?"

"Ecastor, I cannot believe I am about to say this." She takes another long pull on my pipe, exhaling another thick cloud. "I will give the man his damned lexicon, as I cannot read it myself. We will keep him in magical binds and accompany him personally. No madman will have the Heart of Lorkhan, not so long as I am breathing."

9 Sun's Height, 4E206

It feels good to wear heavy armor again, all things considered.

I don't wear it so much anymore because I don't want to seem forbidding to my daughter, but without her here, I'm free to let my armor feel like a familiar old friend.

Still, leaving her behind was more difficult that I would have thought. I've never done it before, not once. I've always been nearby, no more than a few walls away from her, and I've never trusted her to the care of anyone other than Amara or Leon. I know I should feel good about leaving her with Faralda. Leon trusts her. Amara… probably does. But still.

It was a fight not to give in to her tearful little face when she realized she couldn't follow Amara and me out the door.

Sitting next to me, huddled into her cloak and rocking with the boat, my woman just… looks uncomfortable. If it's not because of Corinna, then it's probably because of the grumbling madman sitting tied up behind us.

At the very rear, Leon huffs with exertion, rowing the boat. A quiet Tolfdir sits at the front. Everyone is a little on edge: I can smell it as much as I can see it.

"Was I naive to hope that our adventures were long behind us?" She asks me softly.

I shake my head. "They still are. This is just some… uh… maintenance, I guess."

She doesn't say anything back, but she does lean against my shoulder just a bit more. I turn and growl a warning at Septimus Signus, whose rambling is doing nothing to ease Amara's mood. He glares at me, but finally shuts up.

We pass the rest of the time in silence and dock at the madman's icy outpost after a short while. Since I'm the one with the preternatural strength, I get the honor of dragging Signus along by his collar. I fight the temptation to just toss him down the man-sized hole in the ice, and instead grip him by his robes while I climb down.

We enter the main cavern and group around what is, I think, the main mechanism of the lockbox. Honestly, I'm pretty much clueless about this whole affair, though I have been making attempts to learn a bit more about the Dwarves just to make Amara happy. I love the way her face lights up when she talks about her work.

In any other situation, everything about that box would fascinate her, would make her happy. It's a shame to see the darkness in her expression just now.

She pulls the lexicon from her magical satchel and holds it up in plain view. Signus tries to lunge for it, but he can't escape my hold. Amara's tone of voice is just… well… scary: "Tell me how to read this."

"Impossible!" He shouts, fruitlessly reaching for his prize. "It is forbidden knowledge, impossible knowledge! It cannot be passed!"

"Try me."

Signus thrashes, but I'm too strong for him. "You don't understand! I cannot say with words what was not learned by words!"

Amara and Leon share a look. "How, then, did you come by this skill?"

"Give Septimus the lexicon!"

Amara doesn't acknowledge the outburst, but instead weighs the lexicon in her hands. When she speaks again, it's to Leon and Tolfdir: "If not by words, then by magicks. Some forgotten ritual, or perhaps through his work with the Elder Scrolls… Or…" she sighs, "with assistance from some higher power."

Tolfdir folds his arms. "I made those binds myself, Lady Amara. He can't attack us in any way. I'll stake my name on it."

Leon touches his sister's shoulder. "This is all the more reason to intervene, I think."

She releases a short, decisive breath through her nose. "I will give this to you," she says with unhidden threat. "If you move against us, my partner will rip your heart out. Do you understand?"

I lick my lips at the thought, only just a little ashamed to admit that it pleases me.

"I can almost… hear them." I keep a firm hold on the madman as he takes the lexicon and moves toward the locking mechanism. It's as if he's forgotten about all of us. "I can… feel their life energy."

By Talos, the sooner I can eat this man's heart, the better.

"Clever Dwemer… clever, clever Dwemer…" He does… something… I don't know what, but then suddenly leaps backward and collides with my breastplate as the concentric circles on the front of the box begin to rotate.

The circles spin in a way that makes me dizzy, though I'm careful not to let my stance falter. Then they all align and push inward, moving away from us and forming some weird kind of tunnel to the box's interior. Signus pulls on my grip like an untrained dog on a leash, raving.

I hold him out in front of me, an effective meat shield, and start moving. I won't leave Amara's side and I also won't leave Signus to his own devices, so if she goes into the box, so do I and my prisoner. If there's anything dangerous in there, I'll make damn sure that it's Signus who'll get fried first.

The tunnel is short, but the whole interior of the box is very dark, and I have to fight not to be reminded of Alftand. Amara, Leon, and Tolfdir all cast magical lights.

Except for a ratty old book sitting on a worn pedestal, the box is empty.

"What is this… it's… it's just a book! It's…" He stills. He isn't close enough to touch it, but something about it suddenly hypnotizes him. "It's marvelous…"

Then he starts levitating.

"Lydia, let go!" Amara's pushing me away from Signus just as he starts screaming and smelling of burning flesh. She puts herself between me and the book, and I watch as the madman disintegrates into a pile of dust. "Look away!" She orders us all: "Do not look at it!"

"The world beyond…" Tolfdir mumbles in a dreamy sort of voice. "I can see it…"

"No." Leon, his eyes fastened to the floor, grabs Tolfdir and slams him against the nearest wall, knocking the wind out of him. "No, my friend, remember yourself!" The sound of a loud slap echoes throughout the chamber, followed by a hiss of pain.

The room suddenly grows very, very cold.

"Ah… more seekers of knowledge…" The voice grates my ears like fingernails to a writing slate. And the stench… the stink…

I clench my teeth and fight not to retch, all while trying to suppress the red fog that's begun creeping its way into the corners of my vision. The thing doesn't hide itself like Sanguine did back in Riften, it doesn't deny its existence. Its stink is like a fucking challenge.

It's a foul mass of tentacles, and it's blocking our only exit. "Come closer… Bask in my presence."

I pull Amara tight against me. Her scent and physical nearness are the only things that will keep me grounded. "Daedra," I growl. I don't know exactly how I know that. I just do.

"Hermaeus Mora," she affirms coldly, though I'm pretty sure she's talking to it and not me. "You could be no other. Begone. We have no business with you."

Its responding laugh just sounds slimy. "Who do you think brought Septimus here? Who do you think taught him to divine the ancient secrets of the Dwemer? Who do you think… protected you… on your journey to loose my knowledge upon this world?"

"Protected!" She shouts in furious rebuttal. Magic crackles down her arms, making the hair on my neck stand up. "You… You dare! Begone, demon! I am not your puppet and I will not tolerate your nerve! Away!"

She breaks away from me. The red grows darker, more opaque, her anger feeding mine. I want to remind her that we're in a cage and she's slinging insults at the god blocking our only way out, but I can't unclench my teeth. I can't stop growling. Just keep your head. You're better than this.

One of its tentacles brushes the air just in front her nose. A dare. A challenge. "Your free will is an illusion. Whether you acknowledge me or not is your own business, but I will be in your mind—"

"Enough!" It's the Thu'um and something else, something ominous and dark, something I've never heard her produce before. What she says next, I don't understand. I recognize the Dragon language, and that's it. Her voice is low and roiling and sounds like it's coming from a body much bigger than hers…

I want to attack her.

The shock is like a stab to the guts. Why. My Amara, my partner, who wears my scent and my mark with secret pride… after the high price we've paid for what we have… Why. I shake, sweat, twitch. Why. Her heart is mine already. I taste it in every kiss.

I slowly realize that I've been restrained. Tolfdir. Amara once told me that Alteration magic can cause paralysis. I can't move my legs. It's right. It's good.

I want to kill them.

And whatever threats Amara's probably made, the Daedra seems to have brushed them off: "… For hundreds of years it's been locked away from the world. Septimus was a useful tool for unleashing it. I'm delighted to put it in your uniquely dangerous little hands, Dragonborn. Let us work wonders together…" It disappears.

Like me, Amara trembles with rage. I can smell Tolfdir's sweat: holding me still is really taking its toll.

"Mara mea…" Leon calls to his sister with caution. "Amara…" He's at my side, ready to turn me to dust if I make a wrong move. It's good.

Something changes when she turns and meets eyes with me. What was once a weird flash is now an unnatural and unnerving yellow glow, but it's fading fast, back to beautiful blue again.

And she looks very, very afraid.

"Are you… yourself, Mara mea?"

"Yes," she says, never taking her eyes off me.

No… No, I don't want to attack her. The urge dies like the snuffed flame of a candle. I would never hurt her, now not, not after everything.

"Do you feel faint?"

"No." She takes a cautious step toward me, and then another. She's staring at me like she can read what's underneath my skin. "Release her, Tolfdir. She will not attack." The old wizard lets me go with a relieved sigh, and Amara catches me when I stumble forward.

Her scent… nothing's wrong. Nothing's off. "I… I don't—"

"Shh," she soothes, though her voice trembles along with the rest of her. "It is done. It is…" A hard breath. Stress. Fear. Her heart's beating so fast.

"We're okay," I whisper, too quiet for anyone but Amara to hear.

"We are."

When I look up, I see Tolfdir and Leon wrapping the strange book in a spare cloak, their eyes carefully averted away from it.

Corinna is fast asleep in my arms. I should have put her to bed some time ago, but I can't bring myself to let go of her. She was just so happy to see us, completely ignorant of where we've been and what we've just been through… or what's now locked up in the Arch-Mage's secret vault deep underneath the College.

Amara is pressed close to me, sitting with her legs tucked to one side. Leon pokes the fire with a long rod of Dwarven metal. We're gathered on the hearth rug like children, but no one seems to object to it.

"Are you ready to tell us?" He asks her softly.

"I… do not know what to say." She pauses to arrange her thoughts. "What happened today was… I was angry. I was consumed by a desire to destroy. I felt hatred… indignance… I dared Hermaeus Mora to try to use me as if I were any other mortal."

"Something changed in you… something big," I say, not knowing how else to put it. I'll feel guilty about this day for the rest of my life, but still, my senses never lie to me.

"I know. I was… aware of it, on some level." She leans closer and reaches out to stroke Corinna's hair. "I often dream of destruction, of obliterating all I have fought to preserve. With it comes a twisted sort of pleasure… until I awaken. Then there is only deep sorrow."

I touch her hand where it's stilled over Corinna's head. I'm beginning to think I know what it was… or rather, who it was… that I felt in her. "If you ever give in to that anger…"

"No," she replies quietly, but with steel. "My pride will not allow it, nor will my heart." She rotates her palm and laces her fingers between mine. "This world is here to stay. Our family is here to stay… And someday, when I die, so too will the power of the World-Eater."

It's almost morbidly funny: I know all too well what it's like to struggle with bouts of unnatural destructive rage. I nod once and squeeze her hand. It fits in mine like a key to a lock… or like a reflection in the mirror.

Author's Note:

In the first chapter of this work, I said that it's going to be mostly-not-Dragonborn-related and very fluffy...

Okay so maybe I lied.

Also, I know I skipped a lot of stuff in the 'Discerning the Transmundane' quest. This is just how I wanted to write it. The elf-blood-thing seemed especially superfluous, and I had bigger fish to fry anyway.

Cheers,

AE