Chapter 19: Reap What Was Sown
Nerevar. Llovesi. That was all it came down to, in the end. That was all it had ever been. People who wanted her to be Llovesi, and people who wanted her to be Nerevar.
... Maybe it was personal, in the end...
Of course. Why then, did she feel so removed? Why did she feel so empty? If this was the end, why did she still feel so confused?
Nerevar or Llovesi?
Why...?
She stopped for a moment on the Temple steps and stood, her eye squeezed shut, oblivious to the blue skies, the early-morning heat, the crowd of people gazing up at these two bloody, beaten and haggard figures that had just sprung from the Temple. The storm had ended, but there was one still raging inside.
Llovesi barely noticed as Julan's hand slipped from hers.
"Llovesi?"
Llovesi? Or Nerevar?
"Llovesi, we don't have to go to the Palace. Leave Helseth to his stupid plots. It's over. Llovesi, please, let's just... let's just go back to the tribe."
There was something in his voice that stirred her, caused her to turn and gaze into his bruise-rimmed eyes. It was fear.
Llovesi and Julan. Just two connected people falling in a network of personal connections and conflicts that had begun long before Almalexia's death, and would continue long after it. And could she go slinking back to the Ahemmusa, her tail between her legs? It wasn't over. If only she could find the courage she needed to force her hesitant feet onwards.
Nerevar or Llovesi? Why couldn't she be both?
Holding Julan's gaze, she reached to her back and drew both Hopesfire and Trueflame.
Then she turned and walked quickly down the rest of the steps. She didn't have to push through the crowd; they jumped back as she approached, startled, murmuring.
She didn't stop until she reached the still-closed pedestrian gate to the Palace Courtyard, but as she sheathed Hopesfire to reach for the latch, another hand was already twisting it and pushing the gate open.
"What?" Julan asked, one hand still on the latch and the other grasping his sword. "I go where you go, remember? If this is where you have to be."
Llovesi felt her lips twist into something that might approximate a smile. "Then let's go," she said, and was surprised by a voice unlike her own.
The courtyard was still empty, nothing but a faint summer breeze stirred the bare branches of the trees, and the piles of ash on the ground. Mournhold had been stripped of its beauty; its ugly scars had been brought to the surface. And it was all still far too quiet.
Llovesi and Julan avoided the entrance hall and slipped through a side courtyard into a long corridor that led through the guards' quarters deeper into the Palace. Tienius Delitian had taken them this way once, seemingly aeons ago. There was no one to stop them.
No one to stop them in the silent corridors, no one to stop them in the empty rooms as they wound their way up to Helseth's quarters. Llovesi realised her hands were slick with sweat around the hilts of the two swords. There was a strange hitching in her throat as they rounded the final corner in silence and then Helseth's chambers lay before them.
The door seemed to loom before her in the corridor. Llovesi stopped a moment, and tried to clear the sticking in her throat. Julan caught her wrist, but as she turned to look at him he simply squeezed the hand that was grasping Trueflame.
A small gesture, but it was enough.
Llovesi turned back to the door and kicked it open.
There was a flurry of gasps and a dull thud as the book Helseth was reading slipped from his fingers onto his desk. He twisted round, his mouth agape. Barenziah stepped forward, placing a hand on the back of his chair, a small crease furrowing her brow. Karrod drew his sword and stepped forward, placing himself between Llovesi and Julan and the royals. They stood there, all five of them, frozen in a strange tableau.
Helseth regained his composure remarkably quickly. Rising from his chair, he held a palm out. "At ease, Karrod," he said, then looked Llovesi in the face. "I see you've returned," he finished equally calmly, but apparently he couldn't stop surprise jumping into his eyes.
Karrod stepped back, but he kept his sword in hand and his eyes alert. Llovesi walked forward, gripping Trueflame and Hopesfire tightly.
"Yes," she said, and though her hands shook her voice was full of a more tranquil fury. "We have. You're surprised. Were you expecting us not to return? Maybe you hoped Almalexia and I would finish one another off. Nice, neat solution to your problems. Kill two birds with one stone."
Helseth took a step towards Llovesi and Julan. The ghost of a smirk slunk about his lips.
"Perhaps," he said and Barenziah flinched slightly, turning a reproachful gaze towards her son.
"I won't deny I still consider you a possible opponent," he continued. "But you have returned, so perhaps you'll deign us with an explanation of what has passed?"
"Almalexia and Sotha Sil are dead," Llovesi said shortly. "Almalexia killed Sotha Sil, and she tried to kill me. I killed her instead."
It wasn't enough. How could any explanation be adequate? Llovesi sensed rather than saw Julan cast a worried glance in her direction. But how could she describe it otherwise? How could she put into words the horror of Sotha Sil's death, the final confrontation, Almalexia's breakdown, Almalexia's demise... the look of haunted pain and fear in Almalexia's eyes as she lay bleeding out, a pitiable animal, a shadow of a being...
Helseth was stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"From anyone else, such a statement would be nonsense. And you have no way to prove this statement? I scarcely know what to think."
"I believe she is serious," Barenziah spoke finally, her hand still resting gracefully on the back of Helseth's abandoned chair. "At least," and she spoke directly to Llovesi, "I do believe you sincerely think you have killed a Living God. I'm not sure if I believe it. The priests certainly won't... or admit it, if it's true."
"Yes, yes." Helseth waved an impatient hand, and Barenziah looked mildly affronted again. "That goes without saying. Who would accept her tale? You should keep quiet about this. Those Gods may or may not be dead, but you will find it is not so easy to kill them in the hearts and minds of their followers. It will take time, but this will be a new era for Morrowind, and I will lead them into it."
He finished his speech with his hands behind his back, gazing towards the ceiling, a look of pride playing about his features. Llovesi felt her hands begin to tremble even more, and cold fury slipped down her back. Looking at King Helseth then she had never hated anyone so much.
"You're telling me not to speak," she started, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "But how can I not? I was there! I was there! You think I can forget what I saw? That I'll just move on, in silence? I will not protect these people through lies! And you think you're the one to lead these people? You talk often of your people, but I don't think you even care! Look at you, skulking up here. So many people have been hurt. And all because you want to play at being a leader!"
Helseth's expression was growing increasingly ugly.
"And I suppose you think you're the one to lead them, then, Nerevarine?" he asked, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"No," Llovesi said, trying and failing to find her calm. "Just because I have this title, you think I'm here to challenge you? Of course, this was all personal. It's been personal before I even got here. It's been personal for centuries!"
Helseth was quiet. The whole room was quiet. Llovesi glared from face to face, seeing only tense anxiety. Finally, Helseth spoke again, coldly and slowly:
"Very well. Now I understand your position. Know this, Nerevarine, I will continue to lead my people with or without your blessing. I have risked too much–"
"Oh, you want to talk about risk do you?" Llovesi shouted. Something in her cracked, and she swung out with Trueflame.
"Llovesi!" Julan shouted, dashing round to intercept Karrod's raised sword. Barenziah gasped loudly, raised both hands to her face, then quickly lowered them again. Llovesi was holding Trueflame against Helseth's throat, close enough that the flames licked his chin, and again the room was frozen in a strange dramatic tableau.
The King began to shake, though not with fear. He was laughing.
Karrod stopped struggling against Julan slightly, but Llovesi pressed Trueflame closer and raised Hopsefire, furious.
"You've risked so much, haven't you Helseth?" she hissed. "Yes, you've risked my life, my husband's life, Karrod's life, the lives of your people. Was it worth it?"
She pushed closer, the flames licking around Helseth's chin. He stopped laughing, and looked her dead in the eye with a smile.
"Why are you bothering?" he asked. "You're not going to kill me."
"I'm not?" Llovesi asked, and there was something in her voice then, some dark and broken thing that made everyone flinch, Helseth included.
She was a killer. Why fight it? Death walked with her, death swam before her eyes. All it would take would be one more swift movement, one cut like all the others. And who could stop her? Who had ever stopped her? Could she kill Helseth? Yes. Did she want to kill Helseth? Yes. Would she...
The King's eyes had widened, and sweat was dripping down his nose.
"Please," he whispered, shifting his neck and panting slightly. "Please."
Julan was just outside of her field of vision, silent, his eyes full of... his eyes full of that same expression he'd had outside the Temple. It was all it took, really. A look. Llovesi, struggling, fighting herself, made up her mind.
"What's the difference between us, Helseth?" she asked finally, releasing the pressure on his neck slightly.
"I don't–"
"Fear." Llovesi lowered Trueflame, then sheathed both it and Hopesfire. A sigh seemed to go around the room. Julan and Karrod stopped struggling. Barenziah's knuckles were white on the back of the chair, but her gaze was level again, her eyes full of sudden understanding.
"Fear," Llovesi repeated. "Your people are afraid of you. Helseth the poisoner. 'I have a little list. They never would be missed.' I never want people to be that afraid of me."
She took a step back, took Julan's hand. Karrod crossed quickly to the King and helped him back to his chair, into which he collapsed weakly. A thin red line had been seared into his neck.
"Abdicate," Llovesi said.
"W-what?" Helseth said, pushing a trembling hand through his hair.
"Abdicate. You are a politician, not a King. Perhaps Morrowind does need people like you, but not as its leader. You want a new era? Then seek that. Not power."
"You dare...?" Helseth spluttered, fists balled, tears beading in his eyes. "You have no authority! You don't understand what it is to rule!"
"But I do," Barenziah spoke finally, fixing Llovesi with a shrewd look. "She's right, Helseth. These events have taken their toll on all of us. All of us," she repeated, glancing meaningfully at each of them in turn. "I think retirement might be in everyone's best interest. For now."
There was a pause. Helseth glared at his mother, his lips trembling petulantly.
"I don't need your permission to be King," he said.
"No. But you need my counsel. You've needed it a lot over the past two weeks, even when you've chosen to disregard it." Barenziah placed her hands on Helseth's shoulders. "Think of what is wise, Helseth. Find the wisdom I know lies inside you."
Helseth frowned, his eyes darting furiously from side to side. He seemed engaged in some inner debate. Then he sagged.
"Fine," he said bitterly, and coughed, rubbing his neck. "Fine. And I cannot stop you speaking about the Living Gods, Nerevarine, but you will keep quiet about this meeting. I certainly shall. We have not spoken. Understand?"
"I understand," Llovesi said.
"Then get the hell ou–"
There was a loud knock at the door, cutting off the King's final words. Karrod left Helseth's side to open it. A young Dunmer page stood there wide-eyed. His eyes only grew wider as he took in the scene before him: Helseth slumped in his desk hair, defeated, Barenziah standing behind him and Llovesi and Julan: battered, bruised and bloody.
"Well?" Helseth snapped. "Out with it."
"My apologies your majesty," the page said with a bow. "Lord Archcanon Drin will shortly be making a sermon from the Temple. Steward Hler wished the Palace to be informed."
"Very well," Helseth said. "You're dismissed."
The page turned and practically ran; seemingly glad to escape the strange sight.
"Well, well," Helseth said. "Maybe it is in your interest to hear this speech, Nerevarine. Perhaps the consequences of recent events are already coming to the fore. It seems it's time to reap what was sown. For all of us. Goodbye, Nerevarine. I see no reason for us to meet again."
His lip curled finally, a hint of resilient arrogance that would never die, as Llovesi and Julan turned to leave without another word.
They joined a large group making its way excitedly to the Temple in the main courtyard. No one noticed the weary, filthy couple slip into their ranks. Everyone was pushing and jostling, abuzz with wonder, amazement at the passing of the storm, curiosity about the event outside the Temple.
"I can't believe that happened," Julan muttered finally, shaking his head then wincing at the pain of movement. "You threatened the King Of Morrowind!"
"I nearly did more than that," Llovesi replied in a hollow voice, neatly sidestepping an enthusiastic pair of elbows. "I nearly killed him, Julan. Worse, I wanted to."
"And you didn't want to kill Almalexia?"
"Yes–no. Not at the end. I don't know. It's different somehow. I don't understand..." Her voice started to crack, and she was grateful for the brief distraction provided by a young Dunmer couple running past.
Julan was quiet for a while as they passed the gates and wound their way through the crowd.
"For what it's worth," he said finally, "even though that bastard would have deserved it, I'm glad you didn't. And I don't really know why either."
"You were quiet back there."
"It's like you said: you were there. In the Clockwork City. I wasn't."
Silence fell between them again, then a great voice shouted above the crowd:
"People of Almalexia!"
Almost immediately the jostling and the murmuring faded, and everyone in the crowd turned as one to face the Temple steps. Gavas Drin was standing there, seeming smaller outside the Temple. His robe was resplendent in the sun as he raised his arms and called again:
"People of Almalexia!"
All noise stopped. Llovesi noticed Fedris Hler standing to one side, his arms folded across his chest. From this distance it was impossible to tell either of their expressions.
"People of Almalexia," Drin said for the third time, surveying the crowd before him. "I bring you tidings from the Goddess herself."
There seemed to be a collective intake of breath. Llovesi squeezed Julan's hand, her mind reeling.
"These tidings may dismay you at first, but I urge you to seek comfort in them, the comfort that can only be bestowed by the Lady of Mercy."
"I don't believe it," Llovesi whispered, and she realised she had been biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "He's going to tell them the tr–"
The crowd had started shifting anxiously again, and Drin had to shout once more for his voice to carry over them:
"The Lady Almalexia has gone away. The long struggle with Dagoth Ur and recent troubling events have exhausted her spirit, and she has decided to undertake a pilgrimage around Tamriel to seek further enlightenment on how best to serve you, her people."
"No," Llovesi said quietly, clenching her fists. "No. No..."
"Llovesi –" Julan started, tugging at her wrist.
"Be strong, people of Almalexia, for soon the Lady will return to her Temple and her light shall bathe this city. See how even now her forgiveness and understanding have lifted these storms! Remain faithful, and her mercy shall be stronger than ever–"
"No!" Llovesi shouted, and Drin stooped suddenly. Every one in the crowd was muttering, turning to see who had caused the disruption. A small circle cleared around Llovesi, and she pushed forward, ignoring Julan's attempts to hold her back.
"You're lying!" she shouted up at the steps. "Tell them you're lying, Drin! Tell them where their Goddess really is!"
"Nerevarine?" Drin said, and up close she could see his habitual look of pomposity had given way to one that was anxious, yet controlled. "Nerevarine, you are troubled. The Lady mentioned as much before leaving..."
"Almalexia was the troubled one," Llovesi said, trembling, rage popping in front of her eyes as she turned to face the crowd. "Almalexia was a very troubled woman. She killed Sotha Sil."
The murmurs of confusion turned to gasps of horror.
"She tried to kill me. And I..." Llovesi took a deep breath, finding Julan's worried face in the crowd. "I killed Almalexia."
There were screams. Cries of shock. Mutters of disgust. Mothers covered their children's ears; husbands placed protective arms around their wives. The crowd moved back as if Llovesi were contagious.
A heavy hand fell onto Llovesi shoulder, crushing her shoulder blade. It was Hler. From a distance, the grasp probably looked friendly. Consoling, even.
"Nerevarine, you cannot have killed Almalexia," he said, in the manner of one explaining things to a small child. "It's simply... impossible. But you are not well and you are also a foreigner. Many foreigners cannot understand our Living Gods."
"Imperial heretic!" a voice shouted from the crowd.
"No... no... he's lying! They're both lying!" Llovesi pleaded. "You have to believe me!"
Fedris Hler leant in close, so close that his breath tickled her ear. He hadn't relinquished his iron-like grip on her shoulder.
"I think it would be best for everyone if you left here, Nerevarine."
He let go of her shoulder and she was tumbling backwards over her own feet, tears streaking her face. Julan reached out and caught her, helped down the rest of the steps.
People were backing out of the way, giving them a wide berth.
"... she's gone mad..."
"... pray for her soul..."
"... disgusting... such blasphemy..."
The crowd parted all the way to the back. Llovesi felt everyone's eyes heavy on them, and she stared at her feet, taking one step after another, willing them to come round, willing them to understand... They were wrong, and she was right... Then she and Julan were free, the crowd was turning back to the Temple, and Drin was starting the sermon once more.
Julan led her round to the gate of Plaza Brindisi Dorom. Through the gates they could see workers beginning to clear the rubble of the destroyed statue.
Julan cupped Llovesi's face in his hands.
"They're just idiots," he said gently. "They'll understand one day."
"They hate me," Llovesi sobbed. "How could this all go so wrong. Almalexia, then Helseth... now this. One minute I'm their saviour, now I'm their mad heretic. Maybe I am crazy."
Julan held her, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"No," he said. "You're not. Let's go home. It's over now."
Llovesi hugged him back, but lifted her head to watch the Plaza. The statue was destroyed, each broken stone a tribute to the hollow Temple lying opposite. Almalexia was gone. One day, Morrowind would have to realise that. It was new era, dawning in lies, confusion and pain. She'd thought she understood her place in the world. She'd never felt so powerless. The sun was high in the sky now, beating down on the pearly-white stone of the Temple behind them, and the emerald green of the Palace further back. Each day it would rise and set and that would never change. But maybe time would bring the change they needed. All she had to do was keep putting one foot forward, walking into the light.
"Let's go home," Llovesi said. "I've got a feeling it's only just beginning."