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Chapter 12 - Celebration I

The morning after their investigation of Geirmund's Hall, the four rode on to Riften. It was a beautiful morning for a ride, which was good, since it was almost an eight-hour ride. They arrived in late afternoon, dropped their horses off at the stable, and entered the city.

To Andreius' surprise, Maul wasn't leaning on his usual post just inside the gate, but Mjoll and Aerin were on a bench across the street. Andreius greeted them, then asked, "Where's Maul?"

"You hadn't heard?" Mjoll asked. "When Maven became Jarl of the Rift, she took Maul as her housecarl. He spends most of his time in Mistview Keep these days."

"Maven? Jarl? Poor Rift!"

"You might be surprised," Mjoll said. "There's a new Thieves Guildmaster no one will talk about, even drunk, and he keeps Maven's greed in check somehow. Theft in the Rift is down, even though word is the Guild is thriving again." She smiled. "I don't know how he does it, but I'm glad. Oblivion, even the Imperials are happy they have the Guild helping with non-Guild thieves. Scarcely a day goes by that there isn't at least one found tied up and tossed at the bottom of the Keep's steps."

"That's good, then." He'd keep Yssha's identity as Guildmaster secret, of course, but ... "What about what's-her-name at Honorhall Orphanage? The one I heard was mistreating the orphans?"

Mjoll's expression became impassive. "She had an accident several months ago. Fell into the lake from the upper level. Constance Michel took over administration, and the Dragonborn began sending financial assistance. Kids are only there until Constance can find suitable adoptive parents for them, now." She grinned. "So some things are getting better, but the Ratway still stinks something awful. Maven hasn't even started planning for toilets and sewage treatment."

Andreius snorted. "That sounds like the Maven I know and don't love. Any other news you think I ought to know?"

"Hmm." Mjoll looked thoughtful. "Well, Brynjolf's still vending his fake cures in the central market, but his heart doesn't seem to be in it any more, maybe because the Guild is doing so much better."

"Could be. Does Madesi still have a stall in the so-called Grand Plaza?"

"He does indeed. Any particular reason?"

Andreius smiled. "Not for me, but I'd like to take Imiril to see him. Could you take the others to the Bee and Barb for a bit? We'll join you later."

"Certainly." Mjoll smiled. "If you two will come with me? The Bee and Barb is really quite nice."


The party split up, Imiril following Andreius, the rest going with Mjoll. As they left, Imiril turned to his mentor. "What is it, Andreius? Why are we going to a stall in such a ... um ... less than attractive city?"

"Because Madesi is probably the best jewelry-smith I know. And unless I'm seriously mistaken, you're interested in Arenim. A nice piece of jewelry might well get her to return your interest."

Imiril chuckled. "Even though I'm not a dragon? It's worth a try, at least. That flawless ruby you gave me, perhaps?"

"Maybe, but I'm not the expert. Come on, let's talk to Madesi."

Not long after, they were at the Argonian's stall, and he gave them a wide, toothy grin. "Whan may I do for you, my friends?"

"A courting-gift," Andreius said. "Not for me, of course. But my young Altmer friend ... "

Madesi's attention went to Imiril. "What is her coloring? And do you have anything special you want me to use?"

"She's Odmer ... very pale, skin and hair both. I have a flawless ruby I'd like to give her, but beyond that, I'll defer to your expertise."

"Hmmm." Madesi tapped his snout thoughtfully. "Skin and hair both very pale, and a flawless ruby ... in silver, that would be too much contrast. Does she have a preference in clothing?"

"I don't know if it's exactly a preference," Imiril said. "But she's a Skyguard, so she usually wears gilded Elven armor and a red surcoat."

Madesi gave an Argonian laugh. "So! That simplifies things. A necklace would get lost, but a gold circlet with the ruby as a centerpiece ... that should bring out your love's beauty very nicely. Now, I assume you're in something of a hurry?"

"Since we're traveling, I'm afraid so," Imiril replied.

"It will take me a couple of hours," Madesi said. "Are you going to be here for tomorrow's celebration?"

Imiril looked inquiringly at Andreius, who nodded. "I've got a few other people I'd like to say hello to, so we'll probably be here for a couple of days."

Madesi smiled. "Excellent. I should be able to have it finished by morning."

"That would be wonderful," Imiril said, returning the smile and handing him the ruby.

They left Madesi to his work then, heading toward the Bee and Barb. As they passed Brynjolf's stall, though, he called to Andreius. "What's up with you and Sor traveling with a couple of mer? Last I heard, you were playing general over in Imperial City. Or were the two of you involved in the invasion of Alinor? That sounds like something you'd do if you got bored."

"Well, we rescued the Dragonborn first, but yes, we were in on the assault on the Palace."

"And word is you're the Nerevarine and he's Faal Mungrohiik." Brynjolf smiled crookedly. "I knew the first time we met that you two were hiding something, but I'd never have guessed your real secrets." He grinned at Imiril. "You're hiding something too, lad, but I'm not even going to try guessing. The only honest-seeming one in the bunch appears to be the Odmer lass."

"Accurate as usual, Bryn." Andreius grinned. "And thanks for being discreet. What's your latest news about Yssha?"

"Just that she was free, and not denying what the damn Thalmor claimed about her." Brynjolf scowled. "Bastards."

"Agreed," Imiril said. "But the Thalmor, as a political faction, no longer exists."

Andreius hid a sigh. Youngsters, blurting things out! So he quickly changed the subject. "Ah, she and Marcurio are expecting a son. Of their own, not adopted."

"Really?" Brynjolf looked momentarily disbelieving, then he got a wide smile. "The Divines decided she'd put it off long enough, huh? Good. She's wanted that for a long time."

"Yes. I don't know if Maven will announce it, so would you get the word around to her friends? It'll be another reason to celebrate."

"Gladly! And I've got some news for her, as well. A number of our clients complain about having to visit the Cistern or Ragged Flagon for contract negotiations, so we ... um ... got together and convinced Maven that it'd be in her best interest to give us Riftweald Manor."

Andreius stared at him, then began laughing. "Brynjolf, you are a conniving wonder! No surprise I like you. Moving headquarters, are you?"

"Yup. Permanent move for me, Delvin, Karliah, Vex, and Dirge. The rest will visit from time to time. Me, I'm just as glad for it myself. A day or so out of there, and the stench will curdle your nose."

Andreius chuckled. "No kidding! Join us for a drink?"

"Sure - it's not like I'm selling much anyway. I mostly keep the stall to listen for gossip and scope out talent these days."

In the Bee and Barb, they found Sorcalin and Arenim at a corner table, with an amused-looking Maul talking to them. "You won't?" Sorcalin was saying.

"Oblivion, no! Pisses Maven off no end, but word just came that His Majesty has named Faal Mungrohiik a Friend of the Empire - you can transform in the middle of town and no one can touch you. Divines, it's beautiful. A werewolf under Imperial protection? And traveling with a gorgeous young Odmer? I thought the end times were over when Ysmir killed Alduin."

"Arenim is safe from me," Sorcalin said, "From you, too, for that matter."

"Got it. Or I face your other self." Maul smiled at Arenim. "I'm the Jarl's housecarl - you're under my protection as well as Sorcalin's. Anyone gives you a problem, just come to me."

Arenim smiled. "I thank you, and as long as it's in the city, I will. Outside, though, I have other protection."

Then Maul sighed as Maramal entered. "Hope you're either devout or have the ability to not-listen to preaching ... he comes here every evening. I think he means well, but a tavern isn't really the place."

"It is fine," Arenim said softly. "While I would not call myself particularly devout, I do enjoy listening to the priests and priestesses talking about the Divines. And where better to preach to those who avoid temples or chapels?"

Maramar had evidently heard her, because he approached with a smile. "Quite right. And do you have a particular devotion to any of Them, my daughter?"

"Auri-El, of course," Arenim replied. "And like all my folk, to His Daughter, She Who Restores. Though she emphasizes that she is not a true Divine, she doesn't deny us that privilege."

Maramal smiled. "I was honored to marry her and her husband. I am ... in wonder at what she has become since that time." He smiled. "So are you interested in marriage, daughter?"

"Of course, eventually, when I find the right man or mer. But I am far too young, by Altmer custom, to marry. In another ten years, perhaps."

Maramal chuckled. "You expect either biology or Lady Mara to abide by your custom? My child, She has Her own priorities, and age has little to do with those. Her Will is that if you are old enough to be a parent, you are old enough to marry ... and should."

"You said Altmer custom," Sorcalin observed. "But you're Odmer, not Altmer. What's your custom?"

Arenim thought about that, frowning. "That's odd," she said. "You know Auri-El includes knowledge of our culture when Ysmir Restores us?"

Sorcalin and Andreius both nodded.

"That includes at least an outline of our history, it seems."

Andreius nodded. "Of course - history's a vital part of culture. So go on."

"I'm not clear on all the reasons our ancestors split off from the Altmer and moved to Skyrim, but as we interacted with the Nedic peoples, we picked up some of their customs, such as courtship and marriage earlier than the Altmer ... more like the human Nedes, who gradually became the Nords." She turned to the priest. "So it seems Odmer practices agree with Lady Mara."

"Which leaves me the odd one out," Imiril said with resignation.

"Why?" Brynjolf asked, his expression innocent. "The Summerset Isles - excuse me, Alinor - is part of the Empire again. So no one could fault you for abiding by Imperial customs, even about the ages for majority and marriage."

Imiril wasn't sure he wanted to protest - that would simplify a great number of things - but he felt honor-bound to do so. "My parents always said I had to set an example of Altmer propriety, and that they'd arrange a suitable marriage when the time came."

"I was right - a noble." Brynjolf chuckled, earning himself a frown from Andreius. "Oh, you don't look it, in that scaled armor, but to someone with the eyes to see, it's obvious in your bearing. Still, even an Altmer noble can't be faulted for following the Stormcrown's example. She was legally adult at sixteen, married by her own decision at eighteen, but had to wait until she'd taken care of some responsibilities to get pregnant." He cocked his head. "Just how old are you, lad?"

"Twenty, as of not quite a month ago."

"So four years an adult, according to the Empire. And if what I understand of Altmer society's right, another ten years, by theirs." Brynjolf grinned at Andreius. "You need to have a real heart-to-heart with the lad, my friend."

"I think you've taken care of most of it," Andreius replied. "But yes, maybe later."


11 Rain's Hand 5E 3, Morning, Helgen

Yssha hated making speeches, but this one was hard to find an excuse to avoid. So when the crowds had gathered and the appointed time came, she rose from the Mirmulnir Throne, wearing the dragonscale armor she'd worn when she, Marcurio, and the Tongues had defeated Alduin, with Marcurio beside her in his dragonbone. And for this ceremony, Dragonbane was again at her side.

"Greetings, everyone. Here is where it began, on the seventeenth of Last Seed, in Year 201 of the Fourth Era - now the first year of the Fifth Era. I was a prisoner, with my head on the execution block, when Alduin made his presence unmistakably known and destroyed Helgen, I was able to escape thanks to Hadvar, now Captain of Skyhold's Guards.

"My adventures since have become the fodder for songs and tales." She smiled, wryly. "Some were accurate, some less so, and even more with only accidental connections to anything having to do with truth. Unfortunately, the latter are the most popular." She chuckle-purred. "At any rate, the basic story is well-known, and I need not repeat it. A year ago today, Marcurio and I joined the first three Tongues in Sovngarde to defeat Alduin, and Dragon-Father Akatosh reclaimed his soul.

"Not too long after, I was granted Helgen as part of Skyhold, and began rebuilding it." She gestured widely, taking in the whole city. "I did the basics, but you, citizens of Skyhold, have made her what she is today. In honor of the victory last year that made all of this possible, I join with High King Balgruuf in celebrating Alduin's Defeat and the new partnership of vodov and dov. Now ... " she touched Marcurio's hand, and he took over for the last bit.

"Eat, drink, and be merry! For tomorrow we will all have bellyaches and be hung over."

That got a hearty laugh, and Yssha called Odahviing after most of the crowd dispersed to do exactly that. She, Marcurio, Serana and Nevan would make a tour of the Holds, visiting briefly.

As she was mounting, though, a man in the crowd caught her eye, raising a tankard to her in salute and grinning. Then he took a drink and vanished. She blinked. That had been Sam Guevenne, the form Sanguine usually took in Mundus. What did that mean? Why had he made himself known? He wasn't one of the ones acting against her, so ... was he perhaps letting her know she had an unexpected ally?

She shrugged, settling onto Odahviing's neck. She'd settle for him not acting against her, and given his sphere of influence, it was possible he simply found her entertaining these days. It didn't seem to matter, really.