A/N: I'm not sure if anyone's reading these, but if you are, I hope you enjoy it. I'm finding writing these stories terribly addictive. Every time I write one I think of two other NPCs to potentially write about.
He wasn't at the memorial service. They held the ceremony inside, away from the curious and shell-shocked view of the townspeople of Winterhold. Now more than ever they needed the populace to believe the College was strong and would protect them, and so they mourned in private. Brelyna didn't even know if they'd informed anyone other than the Jarl.
Sadly, too many would celebrate the deaths of mages, even two such honourable ones as Mirabelle Ervine and Sarvos Aren.
Brelyna couldn't blame him for skipping out on the speeches; as befitted an institute of higher learning, everyone had something to say and they said it at length. Given the solemn nature of the occasion, there was no moderator there to give them a gentle nudge to wind it up after ten minutes.
But the final prayers? Why wasn't he there for them? Brelyna found herself looking around, craning her neck to see if that gaunt, golden visage was haunting any of the shadows in the corners of the room.
"What are you looking for?" J'zargo purred in her ear.
"Have you seen Arty?" she whispered back. "He should be here. He-" She didn't want to think about it. But she knew he should have attended, and she was obscurely angry that he hadn't.
In the end, she didn't cry. It wasn't seemly for a Telvanni descendent to be too emotional at times like this. Onmund did; big fat tears that he palmed against his face, and others did besides, those who had known the dead better.
Brelyna was glad when it was over, and the three students returned to the Hall of Attainment.
"You know," J'zargo said. "When Khajiit die, we celebrate their lives. With a party."
"You go ahead," Onmund said. "I might go to bed early. Maybe things will look better in the morning."
Brelyna simply shook her head; she wasn't in the mood for a party either.
By the next morning, news of Artino's disappearance had spread. The College was quiet; classes had been suspended, and everyone was encouraged to write home. Those people whose families still talked to them should let them know they were all right.
Brelyna heard the phrase 'understandable' and 'time to mourn' passed about from one mage to the next whenever Artino's name was mentioned. But the reassuring looks never seemed to reach their eyes. No one was prepared to step up and take the Archmage's vacant seat – something Brelyna suspected was a first in the College's history.
They were waiting for Artino. The dashing boy-wonder who swept in and whose discovery started this whole business. Onmund was unnervingly awkward and J'zargo treated everything like it was a contest, but Artino was kind. Approachable. When she used him as a test subject, and then watched in horror as her spells went wrong he just laughed it off. And then he'd told her it was her turn to help, and she'd accompanied him on a dozen field expeditions.
He knew what she'd gone through; as an Altmer from a good family he'd been expected to be a great mage, although the Thalmor were why he'd left, not the weight of his family's gaze. They studied together and discussed ideas, and he'd listened, always, to what she had to say.
And she'd fallen for him, untidy hair and bony hands and ink stains and all. She wanted them to be in the College forever. She started to read up on teaching, not just learning. He liked teachers.
He liked Mirabelle.
Brelyna hadn't noticed at first. Or rather, she'd thought his admiration an intellectual one. Mirabelle was not an elf, and adjusting for their species, she was a great deal older than Artino. But he never missed a single one of her lectures, and he followed her around like an eager puppy, peppering her with questions as she strode the halls of the College, patiently answering them. He always had a shy smile and a friendly word to offer her when they met.
One rainy night in the library, Brelyna realised she'd lost.
"I don't want to leave when I graduate," Artino said, leafing through a book on training apprentices. "I want to stay here and teach, as equals with the other lecturers." His gaze strayed then to Mirabelle, who was discussing something with the librarian, and Brelyna realised it was hopeless.
She scowled at her oblivious friend. She wanted to chastise him for basing his entire career plans around chasing someone who hadn't shown the slightest interest anyway.
And then she'd bit her lip, looking down at the book in her lap. Hadn't she been doing the exact same thing?
She tried to make some space then, but events did the job better than she could have; the anomalies, the staff, and of course the terrible events that surrounded the final defeat of Ancano, had overshadowed all else.
Three days after the memorial service, Brelyna was woken by some large, snuffling thing attacking her face. She sat up with a scream, and frost dancing over her hands.
It was Gruff, Artino's dog. Gruff had been a stray that had taken to following him about, and Artino encouraged the creature by feeding it all kinds of things. Thus it had developed a taste for crème treats and Brelyna watched as the one on her nightstand disappeared into the creature's slobbering mouth.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Gruff obviously couldn't answer, and he curled up on her rug. His fur was damp; she could smell that much. He'd been outside. For a moment she wondered if Artino had returned, and she threw off the blankets and hurriedly dressed to go and look for him.
In vain. He wasn't in the College.
When she returned to the hall, Onmund was giving Gruff belly rubs and making him roll over in exchange for cheese.
"Arty's not here," she said, folding her arms. "Why is Gruff here then?"
"He sends Gruff home sometimes," Onmund said. "When he thinks he's going somewhere too dangerous for a dog."
"Oh, Nerevar. You're right. Gruff!"
The dog raised its head hopefully.
"Can you find Arty for me? Find Artino. Find."
Gruff barked.
"I'm getting my staff." Brelyna said. "I've had enough of this. I'm going to find him."
Brelyna was not an adventurer. If she hadn't been enamoured of Artino she would have told him the debt was paid and refused to follow him down into any more caves long ago. She preferred her books and a warm fire to constant immanent danger and exposure to the elements. But a mage has to do what a mage has to do.
"Do you want any help?" Onmund asked as she threw potions and scrolls into her satchel.
"No, it's fine. You stay here and cover for me if classes resume." She was sure she was the only one who knew about Mirabelle and she wanted to keep Artino's secret if she possibly could.
With Gruff at her side, she left Winterhold. The dog seemed confident in the way it foraged on ahead, and she did hope it wouldn't lead her to a dead mammoth or something.
Gruff led her south along the road, and Brelyna was forced to hurry to keep up, scared she'd lose the dog in the whirling flakes of snow that was normal Winterhold weather. Her boots crunched on the snow.
Soon after setting out an Argonian appeared, demanding her valuables. Brelyana asked him politely to leave her alone, and then she froze him solid when he refused. Artino had taught her how to handle worse than that.
Eventually Gruff veered off the road, bounding through the snowdrifts and barking excitedly. His destination was a low, stone building, one of the ancient places that dotted Skyrim's landscape. Brelyna called the dog back; those places were dangerous and Artino would never forgive her if she got Gruff hurt.
She had to hope she was enough of a mage to not let herself get hurt either.
When she got closer, she could see a light flickering within. Maybe someone was home? She unhooked her staff and held it before her, defensively.
She stifled a scream when she nearly fell over the corpse half buried in the snow near the entrance. It was a burly Nord, not Artino. She breathed a sigh of relief, made fierce 'be quiet' faces at Gruff, and edged inside.
She couldn't hear the creaking of animated bones, which was something. Aside from the crackle and smell of a fire, she couldn't hear much at all. She crept closer, watching the firelight on the stone wall ahead of her for shadows. She shifted her grip on her staff, and risked peering around the corner.
"Show yourself!" Fire rippled along Artino's fingers and his lips were pulled back in a snarl.
"Arty!" Brelyna raised her staff and cast a protective ward. "It's me."
Gruff barged past her and wagged its tail at its master. Artino lowered his hands.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for you, obviously. Everyone's been worried sick."
His shoulders dropped and he sighed and perched on a crate. Now she had a chance, Brelyna looked around the room. It was homey, sort of, and there was an alchemist's table in the corner.
"What is this place?"
"Just a place. I think an alchemist was here before the guy who tried to kill me. He probably killed him. Look, I'm fine, you can go back and tell them so."
"You are clearly not fine. This is not the place someone who is fine would choose to...what? Go on holiday at? Or are you planning on living here?"
"Of course not. Leave me alone. I just," he buried his face in his hands. "It's all my fault she'd dead."
Brelyna leant her staff against the wall and went to his side. She knelt and tried to peer into his face.
"It's not your fault, Arty. Everyone knows that. You did your best. You saved the rest of us and the College. They want to make you Archmage."
Instantly she knew it had been a mistake to mention it. Artino made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob.
"That's traditional at least; whoever nobbles the last Archmage gets the job."
She sighed, "Arty, it's been days. You look awful. Do you have anything to eat here? Or have a bath in? Come home. You don't have to give them an answer, just let them know you're around."
"Why?" He lowered his hands and gazed at her with reddened eyes. "The College is not going to grind to a halt without me. They'll find someone else."
"Eventually. In the meantime with dragons in the skies and vampires in the streets the College is going to be rudderless and incapable of defending itself, let alone helping anyone else."
Artino just scowled. Brelyna decided it wasn't worth pushing it for now.
"Let me make you something to eat," she said. All she could find were a lot of herbs and a chunk of skeever tail. "I can't believe you were planning on eating this," she said, digging through her back. "I brought supplies."
Artino didn't respond. He sat in a melancholy heap staring at the fire, while Brelyna busied herself toasting cheese and tomato sandwiches over the fire.
"Eat," she commanded, when the first of them were ready. "You can have the first slices." Gruff got the skeever tail.
"Mirabelle wouldn't want you to do this," Brelyna ventured, after they'd finished eating.
"How dare you use her name like that!"
"Why not? You know I'm telling the truth."
"Are you? She barely noticed me. I was just another undergraduate underfoot."
Brelyna couldn't believe she was trying to defend Mirabelle, "That's not true. Everyone in the College knows you're a great mage. You've uncovered so much in your short time here. She had to know and respect that."
"I feel like such a fool. I had it all planned out and now what? Pining like some child over a woman who could never possibly be interested in me."
"How do you think I feel?" Brelyna said quietly.
"You've always been there for me, haven't you? You even ventured out to find me, I wonder how far you would have gone? Brelyna, I'm sorry. Maybe it was in front of me all along." He leaned towards her.
Brelyna had never seen anyone visibly lower their standards for her before. Her eyes blazed and before she'd even consciously decided on it, she raised her hand and smacked Artino across the face, as hard as she could.
"Wha?" He held his cheek in utter confusion as she leaped to her feet.
"You are a child," she said. "And in no way fit to be Archmage. You know...absolutely nothing about anything!" She tried to halt the words, but they were tumbling out too fast. "You'll never be Aren. No one will. He's dead, and I don't know what to do. And you don't know what to do. And they hate mages here, and they hate Dunmer here, and I'm scared!"
Artino was silent for a while, as Brelyna caught her breath.
"I'm sorry," he said eventually. "Can we be friends again? I really do appreciate everything that you've done."
She nodded. Outburst over, she just felt a bit silly. "I'll always be your friend."
He got to his feet, brushing breadcrumbs off his robe. "If I go back, I don't know what to do. You'll help me, right?"
"Arty," she took his hand. "We'll all help you. And if they don't, as Archmage you can always boot them," she joked. It won her a faint smile. "You don't have to do anything alone."
He shrugged, looking as gangly and awkward as she'd ever seen him, and not the repository of powerful magic she knew him to be.
"Is it still snowing out there?" he asked.
"Of course it is. Did you want to wait?"
"No, we could be here for months if we did that. Let's go home."
A/N: My first mage character was keeping an eye out for an amulet of Mara to show Mirabelle someday. In the end, he never married anyone.