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Elizabeth Asquerana

3E415-4E520

This was what my mother's headstone had read. Engraved deep within the granite was her name. It was bold and proclaimed itself loudly for the entire world to know. My mother, the Countess of Kvatch, had passed away at the ripe age of one hundred five. Her last wishes were to be buried out upon a hilltop near Kvatch so she might watch over it as if she were its guardian. Truthfully, she was. Her stories of fame and honor had passed like wildfire through all of Cyrodiil. Upon her deathbed were the highest figures of society: the Chancellor, the Royal Guard, many Counts and Countesses from neighboring cities and other people whom I hadn't met before.

I stood before my mother's grave like a statuette hovering over a dead lake. People swarmed around encasing me like a thick blanket. I hear the sobs of women and I could sense the grief of the men who had overlooked my mother's grave. For a while I had stood motionless; unmoved, even emotionally unmoved. My eyes fastened upon the bit of granite I could see of the tombstone. My brother, Aeydiin, who would become the Count of Kvatch, had stood adjacent to me. He stood tall and just as unmoving as I was. His coiled silver hair hung before his frozen tangerine eyes. When I had glanced his way I could see the strife that he had attempted to mask. But he was never good at concealing his feelings from me. I knew the path to his heart, a path that not many had traveled. He was; afterall, my twin brother.

My eyes had continued to hold their position upon him until he had glanced my way. His head hadn't moved an inch at all when he shifted his eyes my way. From such a distance I could hear his heart calling. It was beckoning me near. Faintly, it had called. Leisurely and almost hesitantly I had lifted my hand to his shoulder. My fingertips touched the delicate fabric of his crimson cape. But that was all that he needed. His head gave a nod of gratitude and together we had looked back to our mother's grave. Upon the bed of the grave many people had stepped forward from their lines to place down trinkets to honor the dead. My eyes had scanned gradually over these mementos of flowers. Would they not perish as well? Their beauty would dwindle just like the last moments of our lives. They would wilt and wither away and all that would be left was a skeleton of their former selves. I pondered over this for a while and even thought over just why do we leave flowers for the deceased? Should we not leave a more durable substance that would withstand time and symbolize how the Countess' life would live on past the grave?

... My heart began to hurt.

I felt that sickening warmth that overcomes one just as they were to begin crying. Was it in human nature to succumb to it immediately? My lips coiled in and I bit them harshly telling myself, Don't... not here. You must be strong. Be strong for the Countess. As if my brother had heard my thoughts he had leaned near me and rested his frozen nose against my cheek. His breath had rushed past my ear and I heard him whisper almost faintly, "... Lydia... it'sok."

I shot him a glance. He had glanced back before lifting his head to rest against the crown of my fiery red hair. His arms constricted me in a loving embrace and at this moment my defenses had fallen. My lips parted and a wail came as I had buried my head into my brother's chest. My eyes wretched themselves shut so tightly that it had began to sting my eyes. I knew people would glance this way. It was the first time I ever let my audience see emotion from me. My mother said this was a trait I had inherited from my father; to be more or less emotionally frozen. I was shattered. My mother had been my own god. Without her presence how could my life exist? Who would guide me? Who would guide my people?

My sobs had softened and my head hoisted as I look at my brother's neck. The muscles hidden beneath the tanned layer of skin had contracted for a moment then relaxed as he had shifted himself.

My brother... my sweet brother.

He would lead Kvatch to its glory.

After a moment or two I had pulled away from my brother's arms. He lingered for a moment; I knew he was just making sure I was fine. I waved him off and wiped my eyes with the base of my palm. The sorrowful tears had vanished and now I saw clearly. Only a few people had remained now. Those who were exceedingly close to my mother. I saw two Argonians—they were a brother and sister from the Chapel of Akatosh. A Nord stood cattycorner to me and then there was the soon-to-be Count and I.

Through the air the great chimes of the bells had sounded off. Their voices carried on high and whispered out to our ears that stood far from the safety of the city. The Argonians had wrapped their arms around one another as they knew they must turn and leave to prepare for Aeydiin to inherit the title of Count from his predecessor. At those chimes my brother had cocked his head to the steeples of the chapel. His hand had prodded my shoulder causing me to look as well. I glanced to the steeples then to him as he had whispered, "... we must depart soon."

My brow lifted and I immediately protested, "... can we not stay a moment longer?"

"No," said he.

I turned my eyes towards the grave. It was hard for me to comprehend that beneath that stone lay eternally the shell of my mother. I ignored my brother's persistent gaze and asked him calmly, "... may I stay for just a moment more. I shall meet you back at the castle."

I didn't even have to look at him to understand what he was thinking. I knew he would think it was a bad idea to leave the princess alone on a hill, but he trusted me, I knew it. He sighed heavily and I could see him nodding his head from the corner of my eyes. I glanced at him as he ran his hands through his hair and his final words were, "... do not take long, Lydia."

"... I won't, brother." I reassured him.

He made his way down the path where his guards were standing and I turned back to the grave. More and likely he would at least leave one guard to keep an eye on me. I was certain. My eyes skimmed the headstone and the words graven into it and a sigh had parted my lips. Unconsciously, my feet had shuffled forward and I kneeled beside the stone slab. I minded not to the grime that would pollute my skirts. My hands had fallen to the granite and the chill ran across my palms. It had nearly frozen beneath my fingertips and as I looked upon my outspread hands I felt just like a little child again. I remembered all those times of the past where I would fall upon the cobblestone way and surrounding me I could hear my mother's voice as I sobbed, Come on, Lydia, she called enthusiastically, pick yourself up! There's no need for tears!

Just like back then, I knew there was no need for tears. Just like back then, I would pick myself up. It was what my mother would have wanted. The wind had blown by and my hands had lifted to my windbound hair soon pushing a few coiling fiery strands from my face.

"You look just like her."

I nearly had fallen backwards as I jerked my head up to see the conjurer of the voice. It had been the Nord. I thought he had left Soon I thought myself as foolish for dirtying my skirts in front of a commoner. I lifted hastily to my feet and held my head high as I spoke, "... like who?" The Nord turned his face to the grave and back. There was no need for words at this point. I turned my eyes as well and then left off an acknowledging, 'oh'.

"You must be her daughter then," his voice was harsh and rich. Not accented like the Nords of Skyrim. I turned my eyes to him to see his face. It was pale like snow with two deep cobalt eyes. His eyebrows were thick like pines of a tree and lowered over his rounded eyes. He looked more sorrowful then the others who had been here only moments before. There was something about him. Something that reminded me of the past or possibly a forgotten parable of my mother's glory.

"I am," said I with a petite nod of the head, "had you known her?"

He chuckled lightly with a smile lighting his face as he had lifted from his pocket something. I cocked my head to a side as if to get a glance but it was impossible to see what was in his grasp. His hand had blossomed like a flower in springtime and he had gazed down upon the contents of his hand before speaking, "I had known her," he had answered and soon tossed his eyes up to me. Chills ran across my spine as those eyes fell upon mine. He had stepped forward and reached his hand out to me soon presenting to me the contents of that hand. I cranked my neck and leaned over to see what was in the man's hand. My eyes widened and there I saw it.

A beautiful dainty necklace.

Its gold had shimmered like none I've seen before. It sparkled as if it had just surfaced from the severe heat of the smelter. My hand hovered above the man's for a moment and before I had touched the gold of the chain I had hesitated as if it did just come from the smelter. My eyes were fastened upon the necklace as the Nord spoke to me, "So many years it had taken me to find this lost trinket... I was going to return it to her, but it seems I was too late." His voice fell and his hand had almost swallowed up the necklace he had offered to me. "... I was to leave it here for her—but I believe you deserve it so much more then a silent grave."

At those words, I had pinched the chain and lifted it from his hands. I drew it back to myself and admired the golden blossom of a flower that dangled in the middle of the chain. My fingertips kissed the metal and I had smiled. Neither had I known why I had smiled nor why I had accepted this charm from a stranger. To this day I still question it. "... Had it belonged to my mother previously?"

"No," he had purred, "it belonged to your father."

"My father?" my heart fluttered and I turned my eyes up to him. "You had known my father?"

The Nord had not answered me. He only smiled at that necklace. The chimes of the Chapel rang off again and I knew it was time to leave; however, my feet would not turn. Planted, they were, in this place. "I fear it is time for us to depart. I bid fair tidings to the crowned Count. Adieu, my dear."

He turned his back to me and walked off. I stood in my place and watched him eagerly. Had he not known that I was hungry for more answers? How had he known my father? Whowas my father? I turned my eyes down to the necklace and then back to the Nord. I raced around the grave and nearly tripped upon my skirts. "Wait!" I called to him with an outreached hand. "Wait! Please... wait." The wind had picked up and its hands played with my hair. Its arms pushed me back upon the hillside but I was dedicated to speaking to this man. I pushed further and watched as the long raven hair of the Nord had tossed over one of his shoulders. His dark hair was another peculiar thing about him for most of all Nords were rather fair-headed.

I watched as his head twisted over his shoulder and he looked at me with a furrowed brow. Had my approach puzzled him? He fully turned to me and waited for me to catch up before he had asked what it was that I had wanted. Time was of the essence, he said. Yes, it was true. But there were things Ineeded to know. "... you had known my father; how?" I had gulped breaths after rushing through that question.

The Nord frowned at me. Was this a question I wasn't supposed to ask of him? "I was once a Commander of a great army," he said quietly as if it was a secret he had wanted to keep, "your father was a soldier that I had ruled over. He was a great man who had done great things in his lifetime."

"... but how could you have known him?" I had inquired. There had been no possible way for my father to have known this man. He had looked a man who was in the prime of his life. If what he said was true then that would mean he was commanding an army when he was just a teenager or possibly even less. My mind stormed with questions. I could hear myself screaming them out at this Nord but not all of my questions had run through my mouth. Only one. My eyes trailed over his and eagerly I waited for him to answer.

"Time is a complex thing," he said soothingly, "... it matters naught how I had known him. That isn't what is important."

"... then what is important?" I had promptly intervened.

His hand had lifted and he had pointed to my clenched hand. "That necklace... is what is important. That necklace is the base of your father's legacy and I can only expect that you wear it reverently and bear it for the rest of your days and when the time comes, pass it down through the generations."

"... But why?" I pressed.

He smiled at me. There was a twinkle in his eye and for a moment I wished I could peer within his mind to see what he had thought of me. "... Return to your city, Ms. Asquerana. Perhaps fate shall be kind and allow us the pleasure of meeting again under better circumstances."

He turned again. How could this man disrespect a woman of royal blood? He had not thought himself as unworthy to look me in the eyes of even to address me by my name. He was arrogant. He was courageous and most of all... he reminded me of what my father would be. I wished that I could find out just what it was about him that had fancied my mind or that had awoken the deepest parts of my memories, but he allowed me no time to question him further. Just as he made his way to the path my voice had lifted to the breeze and overwhelmed, "... may I at least know your name?!"

He stopped.

For a moment I thought it was to turn and come back, but he hadn't. He remained facing away and with a strident voice he had called back to me. Lingering upon his tone was that same coiled smile. "... Gaston..." he twirled his head over his shoulder to flash me that smile. I had not returned the gesture.

The chimes of the chapel rang again and I turned my eyes to the steeples. The chimes seemed thunderous now and so impatient. It was close to the time of the ceremony for the new Count. My brow furrowed and I turned back to the pathway to ask of—

He was gone.

My eyes widened and I had tossed my eyes furiously down the hillside. Where could he have gone? I had only looked away but for a moment! It wasn't possible... was it? The chimes rang again and hesitantly I had turned from that path and headed down the adjacent one that would lead me to Kvatch. True to my thoughts, I had seen a guard waiting for me. He had humbly bowed and then guided me down the cobblestone way. I followed at my own pace behind him as I had my eyes upon that necklace in my hands. I repeated the man's name over in my mind as if it were pendulum of a clock swaying back and forth; counting off the time. Time. Time was of the essence. As I looked upon this beautiful necklace I could feel the significance pulse off into my hands. My father's spirit resided here within this gold, I was certain. Perhaps, my mother's did as well. Together they entwined within this necklace. Their hearts calling for one another and their broken spirits finally pairing off with one another. After all this time, they had still stood strong. They were parted by death, but now they lived eternally within one another. I would mourn their deaths; however, I would revel in the thought that my mother and father now rested in peace with one another.

"Gaston," I had whispered lightly while shifting the gold in my hand. The word slipped from my lips like a stolen breath of winter. The gold tinkled off a light chiming noise which had brought a smile to my face. He was a ghost of my parents' past. Now, too, he would be a ghost of mine. Ghosts had their times of resurfacing to be the bearer of unfortunate news. But after all these years of wondering and dreaming, I believe there was no news that I could not handle from a mere man.

I was born into a family of Kings and Queens. The Asquerana family had dated back to the beginning of it all. My ancestors lived through the great Oblivion crisis. Even through unfortunate times, together they had lifted one another from the ashes of sorrow and death and together they had stood strong for the sake of the Empire and for the sake of the Asquerana name. Like my mother, Elizabeth, and my unknown yet honored father; I, too, would stand strong. Though the times were troubling and the horizon appeared as sinister as it was dark, I would hold my head high. For time always shows that there will be a better tomorrow. If there was no sacrifice then there would be no victories. My family had known this all too well, and I believe that one day I'll understand fully just what had happened during that one year that had changed my family's life, forever. But until then, I would exult the past and look forward to what the future brings. Time is of the essence, you know, and I won't waste a moment of it.

--The End--

And so here you are. The Epilogue. The final installment. I hope you enjoyed the story. If the switch to 1st person had bothered you, well I am sorry, but I had thought it would be a pleasant and interesting change. Many many years had passed since the last chapter. Elizabeth indeed had Xilivicus' children- twins. I'm sure you caught on to that.

Read and Review, please!

It took me long enough to write this, I think I deserve it -faints-

And so now I can write more Oblivion fanfictions if I desire-- which, I do. :D