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Chapter 12:

He isn't here.

Portia stood before Mehrunes Dagon's bed and felt like the world had dropped out from beneath her feet. She couldn't sense him anywhere, and although she searched high and low, the Lord of Oblivion had vanished. There was a guard in his room, but nothing else, his treasures hidden away, and the throne room vacant of visitors.

I have to find him.

Portia ran, breathing heavily in the stifling air that drifted up from the volcanic vents outside, and heart pounding. She couldn't believe that he had left. It simply wasn't possible with the barriers placed on Oblivion. Surely if he had escaped, Tamriel would know by now, for he was the prince of destruction, and his image fit that of a fearsome warrior. No, he couldn't be loose, but then where was he?

In frustrated anxiety, Portia reached for her ear, the power of the chaos sphere spreading across her fingers. She gripped the earring so tightly that her fingernails bit into her skin, a thin rivulet of blood sliding down her palm, but the pain didn't distract her. She urged the sphere to life, searching for Mehrunes as he had recently done for her. She might be abnormally dense when it came to magic, and she might be highly insulated against the sphere's dangerous power, but she could still feel it respond to her will.

Find him, she urged, and something in the back of her mind clicked. With a strange spark, she suddenly felt as if the sphere was unleashing itself, consuming her being and making her yell in pain, but it worked. She suddenly felt Mehrunes, but he was far away. Gods, he really wasn't in Oblivion, was he? She concentrated and felt her sleeping body beginning to stir, pulling her out of the dream and toward her desired target. It was pulling her out of Oblivion because Mehrunes wasn't there.

With a jolt of horrified realization, Portia was ripped from Oblivion.

Akatosh protect me.

"Ah!" Portia jerked upward out of her bed, the sheets tangled about her legs and sticky with sweat. Her heart was still pounding, and she quickly kicked the blankets off of the bed and flopped back down. She remained there, staring at the ceiling and calming herself, overwhelmed by the implications of what she had learned. Apparently Mehrunes hadn't overstated how much effort he would put into finding her, but this didn't mean that he was after her. Perhaps he was working on something else, and she didn't even know if he was in the capitol.

You are mine!

She shuddered as she recalled the words that had instilled a sense of fatalism in her. No, that wasn't correct, for she'd held herself together quite admirably, and hadn't she been openly trailing him? She almost laughed at her own foolishness, for of course his words had never left her. She thought of them every time she bathed or rewrapped her wound, and then there were the dreams, but somehow she had felt as if a protective barrier separated them—as if he would never actually break free since the lost heir would be found. Now it seemed that time was against her, and fight the fatalism as she might, she knew that Mehrunes would never rest while she held his artifact. It was part of his identity and power supply, so such a matter would never be dropped. She might have forgotten the imminent threat to her life when she was meeting with Arelius and hunting down information like in her old life, but she had never been safe.

You won't be until the Dragonfires return.

Even then, the prince wouldn't stop, and could she outrun him for years, for the rest of her life? Well, she probably wouldn't live to be old, but when someone figured out what was best to do with the sphere, she wouldn't be expected to keep it. Then perhaps she would be free, but vengeance seemed a common and favorite hobby of daedric princes, which meant that there was no complete escape for her.

Hell, she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. She could do this because she had to, and because there was no one else. She had defied the prince before, and she could do it again, even if his death grip on her would slowly tighten until one of them was either killed or severely injured, and he couldn't be killed. But he can be tricked and trapped, Portia reminded herself, and she rationalized that he had to find her first. Would he find her here?

Her face suddenly paled, and she roughly stood, knowing that it was not just her life that was endangered. Arelius, Lucretia, the children—living with them might bring Mehrunes' wrath upon the entire house, and she would never live with herself if such a thing happened. Gods, but one man's eyes had haunted her for years, so what would losing an entire family do to her? She'd probably never crawl out of the filth that such an event would propel her toward, and there would be no Arelius to save her. The death of his family would be on her head.

Portia leaned against the window frame and stared outside. It was early morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise. Such a beautiful time of day, and here she stood, numbed to the core by what might come. This was not how a Blade should act, or so part of her said, but she didn't know if there was proper conduct for a situation like hers. Lives were potentially in her hands, and whether or not she liked it, she had to act beyond herself in that she could not simply hide. For one, Arelius would never allow it, and two, she had more pride than that. She had vowed that she'd where the earring as a sign of her unbroken will, and giving in now seemed pointless. Even as worry assaulted her, she was beginning to feel calm again, controlled and thinking about the best direction to take. She doubted whether she could ever let herself bend and break without a fight, for it just wasn't in her; it never had been, and she'd always made her own decisions, even the bad ones.

Coming to a conclusion, Portia stood and exited her room, her feet leading her toward the master bedroom. Arelius had an office next to his room, and she knew that he'd be there soon, for he was an early riser. She only had to wait, and since she was certain that she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore, there was no harm in loitering. Of course, the room was probably locked...

She gripped the door's handle and pushed, but it wouldn't budge, so she moved to the bedroom and knocked. It was rude to wake him this early, especially since his wife was also inside, but convention be damned. He would want to hear this, and she had to tell someone as soon as possible.

Portia, you don't even know if Mehrunes is in the capitol, but she had a strong feeling that he was. The strong pulse that she had felt last night had been compelling evidence, and...

"Who's there?" a voice called from behind the door.

"Portia, and I'm sorry, but we need to talk." The door was pulled open, and there stood Arelius in nothing but breeches and with a sword in his hand. He gazed at her with concerned eyes, and she could see Lucretia behind him, sitting in bed, and curiously watching the scene unfold.

"What's wrong?" Arelius asked, prepared to kill any intruders.

"He's here," Portia stated, and Arelius's face tensed.

"Arelius," Lucretia called. She was getting out of bed and wrapping a robe around herself. "I'll be outside."

"No," he soothed. "Stay here, love; we'll go to the office. Portia," and he motioned her out of the room. They moved into the next room, Arelius setting his sword down on his desk as Portia stood, arms crossed over her chest in a bleak mood. "What do mean, 'he's here'?" Arelius asked, equally concerned considering his Blade's behavior.

"I felt something strange yesterday," Portia explained. "It was powerful, whatever it was. So I went to bed early, took a sleeping draught to make sure that everything was okay, and I tried to find him."

"Mehrunes Dagon," Arelius darkly contemplated.

"Yes, but I couldn't find him. I never told you this, but whenever I enter Oblivion, I appear where he is. It's like there's some sort of draw between the chaos spheres, but last night...he was gone. He's not in Oblivion." Arelius's face was taut in concentrated thought as Portia waited to see what he'd say. He couldn't take the sphere from her yet, and there was no solid evidence for her words, but she knew that he believed her by his pause. He always took time to consider important issues before making decisions.

"And you think that he's here, in the capitol?" Arelius asked.

"I can't be sure," Portia admitted. "It's simply a feeling that I have. I could try using the sphere to find him, but I'm afraid that he'd sense it."

"If he is here, and he knew where you were, I'm sure that he'd have tried something already," Arelius reasoned. "He's not known for holding himself back, but how sure are you that he's free?"

"I'm certain that he's in Tamriel."

"I'll find out if anyone has seen anything," Arelius promised. "Until then, there isn't much that we can do, especially without knowing where in Tamriel he is. Keep your eyes and ears open." He walked behind his desk and removed a skeleton key from the top drawer. "This is a key to a small mausoleum near the doors to the Temple District. It's stocked with food, water, and weapons. If you ever need a place to hide, use it." He passed her the key, and Portia ran a thumb over its smooth, worn surface.

"Perhaps I should stay there from now on," she suggested. "If I am found here, I wouldn't want anyone in your family to be harmed." Arelius smiled knowingly, and placed a kind hand over hers, forcing her fingers to wrap around the key. He was doing his fatherly act again, and Portia gave a small smile despite herself. "You're going to tell me that I'm being foolish," she guessed.

"No," Arelius countered. "You are being cautious, but I would like you to stay here where you are more protected. There are two other Blades here, and my wife can be quite brutal when she wishes. If he is in the city, you are safer here for the time being, and we don't even know if he's here. I won't have you sleeping in a tomb when he could be anywhere. The entire Blade network will be looking for signs of him, and in the meantime, you shouldn't let this trouble you." Portia didn't believe him as he removed his hand from hers. "If the situation becomes dangerous, I will send the children away, but Lucretia will never agree to go. Sometimes you have to allow other people to accept risks, Portia. If anything happens, you can't shoulder all the blame. Death happens."

"If worse comes to worse, I will leave," she told him.

"We'll discuss it when it happens," Arelius argued. "You are to continue with your work at the palace, and if I have any further assignments for you, I'll send them along, but no more night work for now. Until we know if he's here, it's too risky."

"Alright," Portia agreed.

"I will be back shortly—before you leave for work. There is something safer that I might require your work for tonight, so look for me in about thirty minutes."

"I'll be here waiting." The two left the office, which Arelius securely locked behind them, and Portia made her way downstairs for some food. Considering that her life might be hanging by a thread, the day was remarkably normal, with servants bustling to and fro, and Arelius's sons causing a commotion in one of the side rooms. A servant was standing at a table in the kitchen, rolling out dough on the massive wooden surface, and Lucretia was chatting with the young girl. Portia smiled as she entered the room and helped herself to a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry for the disturbance," she apologized to her hostess.

"It was nothing," Lucretia assured. "After you've been forced out of bed at knifepoint, your intrusion was minor." Portia wondered when the beautiful woman had been manhandled, and then she imagined Arelius beating someone's face in for the offense.

"Do you need anything, ma'am?" the servant asked.

"No, I can get everything myself." The servant glanced questioningly at Lucretia, and the woman merely smiled and shook her head.

"That's how she is," the Imperial explained.

"That's right," Portia echoed, allowing the scene to wipe away her current problems.

"I was actually meaning to speak with you," Lucretia stated. "This arrived for you a few moments ago, although I am surprised that it was sent so late. They probably did not have an address for you." She held out a sealed letter, and Portia accepted the creamy envelope with interest. It bore the wax seal of the royal court, and with a quick flick, she unfolded it to find herself looking at an invitation.

"There's a ball tonight?" Portia asked.

"Oh yes. It's an annual event, and the council is trying to keep up appearances. Most people don't realize how bad the situation surrounding the assassinations is, and so they don't want the populace to panic. There will also be some visiting dignitaries."

"I wasn't expecting an invitation," Portia confessed. "I suppose that you're going."

"Of course," she smiled. "And you should too. I imagine that you've been invited due to your position, because it's a very important station, and from what I've heard, you have the respect of many noblemen for it."

"I've never been one for balls," Portia stated. "I've never even been to one before."

"It will be an experience, I assure you," Lucretia promised. "You deserve to enjoy an evening off, and I'll speak to Arelius if I need to." Portia stared at the elegant calligraphy spreading across the paper in her hands, and considered Lucretia's words, but it was difficult to contemplate fun when an angry daedric prince was chasing her.

"I'll think about it."

*********

"There's a party tonight," Arelius stated as he watched Tamil doing pushups. She was obviously in a great deal of pain, but her arms worked up and down with unsteady determination. "There will be several new diplomats arriving, and I know nothing about most of them. Are you up to the assignment?" Since the assassinations, the Blades were keeping tabs on everyone entering the palace, for the Mythic Dawn was rooting for information on the last heir, and there might be an attempt by them to gain influence among any disgruntled elite. Arelius didn't want them to gain influence in politics at all, especially if they might be targeting certain council members who were instrumental in reserving the throne for the heir when he was found.

"I don't know," Tamil stated, letting her body collapse onto the floor. She slowly sat up and leaned against the wall, her legs spread out across the carpet. Her red eyes narrowed as she placed a hand to her still healing wound, and then she sighed. "I won't be up to speed," she confessed. "Damned poison! There's no way that I'll blend in and be able to dance. Lady Drothmino will not be able to make an appearance."

"You'll be back to work in no time," Arelius told her. "But not if you keep abusing your body. You need to heal."

"I need to keep busy or I'll go insane," she bitterly countered. "So who's going to be my replacement? I'm sure that Lucretia is going."

"Yes, but she has other duties tonight."

"So, who's going? Portia?"

"I'm considering it." Tamil nodded and struggled to rise. Arelius offered her a hand, but she pointedly ignored it, and instead opted to steady herself with the wall.

"She'll do a good job. I'm sure she's more polite than I am." Arelius smiled as he moved toward the door.

"That she is. It's a good thing that we Imperials consider Dunmer from Morrowind to be less polished, or you would have no excuse." Tamil snorted derisively, and Arelius had the urge to make a smart comment but kept it to himself instead. Tamil was touchy about slanders against Morrowind. "I'll see that your position is covered, and Tamil?"

"Sir?"

"Be careful and watch the house. The Prince of Oblivion is loose." Arelius left Tamil to finish her morning workout as he sought out Portia, knowing that the woman would not be pleased with her newest assignment. She had never favored social tasks that involved the upper class, but she had the confidence to pull it off, and because she taught swordsmanship, people wouldn't expect her to be the most delicate lady. This would work, so now he only had to convince her to accept, which wouldn't be difficult.

He found her in the kitchen with Lucretia, and was pleased to see that the women were friendly, for living in a house with women who did not get along was a job even he feared. His boots hit the last step, and Lucretia smiled warmly, giving him a soft nod that was reserved only for him. She had ways of making even the smallest gestures seem special, and so the affectionate kiss that he landed on her cheek as he swept into the room was entirely genuine and adoring. Portia was busy eating a pastry and reading over a letter, so she missed his uncharacteristic, romantic display, but he'd pull her from her thoughts soon enough.

"Anything interesting?" he asked her, and Portia frowned.

"A ball," she stated. "Someone who wasn't thinking sent me an invitation." Good. So he wouldn't need to sneak her into the party. That made his task simpler.

"She can't decide whether she's going or not," Lucretia explained. "But I told her she should."

"Oh, she'll be going," Arelius smiled, and Portia turned displeased eyes on him.

"There is work to be done there?" He nodded, and she set the letter aside.

"I need you to keep an eye on several new faces—see who they converse with and what they're like. You have good intuition when it comes to people, so I want to know what you think of them." He passed her a list of several names, and Portia read it over. "I would have asked someone else, but you're most convenient."

"As always," Portia grumbled, and Lucretia smiled behind her hand. "Isn't Lucretia going?"

"Ah, but there is more to my life than socializing," the woman explained. "I will be there if you need help though."

"And what am I going to wear? I don't have anything fancy enough for this." Lucretia exchanged a conspiratorial glance with her husband that Portia distinctly did not like.

"You don't honestly think that I overlooked that," Arelius said.

"Okay, but I can't dance."

"I can show you," Lucretia offered. "And I will lend you a gown. Would you also like me to find you a date?" Portia sighed and tossed the letter aside, thinking about what she had gotten herself into this time. A date. A date. Who...?

"No, I have someone who will go with me, and he's quite charming to boot."

"Then it's settled," Arelius said. "Enjoy your evening, ladies." He had work to do, and Portia had dancing to learn. It would be a busy day, and so Portia sent a hasty letter to the Arcane University, asking Gilthan if he'd attend with her. She was sure that he'd say yes as Lucretia began tutoring her. The woman and her husband were finding this entire situation far too amusing for her liking.