Complications
Skyrim's night sky is, in a word, beautiful. A velvet blanket is drawn tight over the world, pierced by a thousand pins of light. Streams of color dance between the clouds, stunning shades of green and blue that follow the guidance of an unseen hand. It is a scene of peace and serenity, relaxation that calms Malenia's mind. Or rather, it would were it not for the bellowing cheers and laughters that emanate from Jorrvaskr's halls.
After her toast, the Companion's had descended into revelry on a scale Malenia has never seen before. Even the likes of Radahn's Redmanes were downright civil in comparison to the feasting of the Companions. Malenia had managed to stand it for all of an hour before retreating outside for peace of mind.
Even lying back on one of the stone walls that surround Jorrvaskr, she can hear their celebration as if she is sitting in the midst of it. It is a small wonder, in Malenia's mind, that the entire hall is still standing at all. She was at first concerned that her absence might be taken with some offense, but now she is not so certain that the Companions will even notice. So she contents herself with watching the stars dance with the strange lights in this strange land.
The strangest part is that she cannot recognize any of the constellations overhead. Though Malenia is no Astrologer, Ranni had been happy to point out the many constellations in the Lands Between and how they shifted as fate spun its thread. Malenia idly wonders what her half-sister would think of a land like Tamriel with its strange dancing lights and twin moons.
In the Lands Between, there is but one moon, a titanic blue sphere that fills the sky every night. But here in Tamriel, they have traded one moon for a pair of twins. One a lumbering red giant, the other a swift and slight orb of marble that trails behind it. The theories Ranni would suggest for the existence of such a phenomenon would certainly dominate the better part of a day, that Malenia does know for certain.
"Whatever happened to you, dear sister?" Malenia wonders aloud. "Where were you, when the land was shattered?"
"I hope I am not interrupting anything." a familiar voice shakes Malenia from her reverie.
She looks over to see the unexpected face of Irileth, Jarl Bulgruuf's housecarl, standing by the wall with her hands on her hips. A strange woman with strange dark skin and embers for eyes, Malenia is not entirely certain what to make of someone who's entire being so closely mirrors the colors of destined death. When she had question Farengar about her, the wizard had offhandedly replied that she was something called a 'dunmer' or 'dark elf' before rapidly changing the subject.
Still, the housecarl has given Malenia no reason to distrust her aside from her coloration. Malenia rises into a sitting position and regards her cooly, "I am merely lost in thought. How may I be of service, housecarl?"
Irileth's expression is grim, but this is the norm with the dunmer. She crosses her arms and regards Malenia with a warrior's eye. Finally she speaks and says, "Jarl Balgruuf trusts you after your actions, and Farengar has been babbling for the last hour about 'the ramifications of an inter-divine translocation event' whatever that means. But my job is the security of Whiterun and by extension Jarl Balgruuf's protection. So I wanted to talk to you myself and assess your character."
Malenia replies, "Are you a native of Skyrim as well, Housecarl Irileth?"
The dunmer raises a brow, "No, I was born and raised in Morrowind, before traveling Tamriel as a whole in my youth. Why do you ask?"
"You share the bluntness of the Nords." Malenia explains. "Most I have met in this land speak with a bluntness not afforded to someone of my station. It is a unique experience."
Irileth frowns, "My duties don't afford me the luxury of dancing around uncomfortable subjects. Which you seem to be doing."
Malenia swings her legs off the wall and stands up, towering over Irileth. She gestures towards the stairs and says, "Not my intention, housecarl. Will you walk with me? I have trouble thinking in the shadow of Jorrvaskr."
The ghost of a smile passes over Irileth's face, "Those that spend their time with the Companions, usually have little reason to think."
"All the more reason for us to talk away from its halls."
They descend the stairs, leaving the raucous halls of Jorrvaskr behind. Malenia makes no move to lead their path, letting Irileth guide them through the streets of Whiterun. The housecarl is clearly on edge, and Malenia has no interest in antagonizing the woman.
After rounding the Gildergreen and descending into one of Whiterun's lower districts, Malenia speaks up, "I understand your concern, housecarl. Once upon a time, I stood in a position similar to your own as a housecarl of sorts."
Irileth glances up at her, "Yet you look and walk as if you expect the world to bow before you."
"I cannot help my appearance." Malenia says. She silently touches her empty shoulder. "I am a product of circumstances outside my control."
That gets a bitter chuckle from the housecarl, "Aren't we all? I will continue to be blunt, Malenia of the Lands Between. You are strange and your story is strange even by the standards of Tamriel. This isn't personal, but I have not survived as long as I have by being incautious."
"And I would not expect you to be." Malenia agrees. There is a moment of silence as the two women walk. Then, Malenia breaks it and says, "I wish nothing more than to return to my home. I failed in my duties as champion and guard towards my lord. Towards my brother. But I cannot return to him in my current state, and he would not accept me should I leave others at the tender mercies of a dragon when he and I know my involvement could make the difference."
The two come to a stop and stare at one another. Malenia's expression is firm as she speaks. "Understand, housecarl, that duty and loyalty mean more to me than you can ever imagine. They have defined who I am for the entirety of my life and preserved my sanity beyond what was expected. Though I have failed my brother, I will endeavor to atone for this failure. And the first step on that atonement is to ensure that the dragon falls."
Irileth's expression is hard to read. Her elven features twist in unfamiliar ways that make it hard for Malenia to understand exactly what she is thinking. But when the housecarl speaks, this doubt is put to bed.
"Then perhaps Whiterun will have little to fear. I hope you prove me wrong, Lady of the Haligtree."
So does Malenia.
The Companions are mighty warriors, renowned for their bravery and skill. No beast is too great a challenge, no foe too powerful. They are a testament to the strength of the Nord people and their way of life. But even they cannot best the true greatest enemy of any warrior. The morning after a great celebration.
It is with some humor, that Malenia is almost relieved to see the Companions lamenting their the bygone nights choices. She, meanwhile, sits happily on the stairs of Jorrvaskr's great hall and watches the many great warriors filter in with naught but regret and curses. It is a scene she is all too familiar with. Even though Malenia expects great composure from the warriors that follow her, even they were not immune to the celebration of their victories. And the youngest always fail to account for what comes after the celebration. So it amuses her greatly to see that such mistakes have afflicted the whole of the Companions, from the youngest to the eldest.
She, on the other hand, slept soundly after her conversation with Irileth. Faint memories still tickled at the edges of her consciousness, but she was spared the nightmares of her past for once. So she enjoyed her morning with a cup of warm milk and a plate of rapidly vanishing sweet rolls.
It is as she begins on the third one, that a familiar face pulls up a stool alongside her and falls onto it with a satisfied grunt. Kodlak Whitemane nods at Malenia, a gesture she returns, and the two enjoy a companionable silence, watching the other warriors of the hall.
Only when the old man reaches for the plate of sweet rolls, does Malenia finally speak. "Touch them, old wolf, and you will find yourself acting in imitation of my own form."
Kodlak laughs and retracts his hand, "Far be it for me, to deprive a warrior of their vices."
Malenia stares at the fourth and final sweet roll, sighs, and breaks off a piece. After a moments hesitation, she breaks that piece into a smaller piece and offers it to Kodlak. The old man lets out a deeper belly laugh, and accepts the offered morsel.
"Your generosity is inspiring, Lady of the Haligtree." he gives an exaggerated bow.
Malenia silently munches on the last sweet roll and washes it down with a cup of milk. Afterwards she says, "When I was young, I delighted in sweets. They were a pleasure I could enjoy without consequences. When I grew older, sickness robbed me of that simple pleasure. Only recently has it returned to me."
"And you're making up for lost time." Kodlak nods, his expression one of empathy.
A crescent of white cuts through his bushy beard when he smiles and says, "Just try not to overindulge, or you'll end up a fat old man like me." he slaps his gut for emphasis.
"You're hardly fat." Malenia notes with utter sincerity.
Another laugh from Kodlak, "Aye, but I am very old."
"This is true." Malenia agrees. "But an old warrior is the one warrior that should always be feared. That is why you are the leaders of the Companions."
Kodlak raises a thick white brow, "Well, you're half right I suppose. My shield-brothers and sisters do respect my age and experience…" he pauses as Aela, dressed in a thick robe and wearing an expression that could kill, shuffles by.
"Most of the time." he admits.
The woman kindly informs her respected elder of her opinion with a singular gesture, then collapses into a chair around the hearthfire table and slumping into her arms. Kodlak shakes his head and looks back at Malenia, "But, the Companions have not had a true leader in ages. Not since our founder, Ysgramor. I am merely the Harbinger, an advisor to my younger Companions."
"A loophole, as blunt as the people in this land." Malenia notes. "I can respect that."
Kodlak shakes his head, "It is no loophole. I may advise and speak out against the actions of my Companions, but they are free to act as they see fit so long as it does not bring dishonor upon us."
He points at Aela, who has been joined by a scar faced man with thinning hair, "Aela and Skjor do as they please. They are as much hunters as they are warriors, but they have a killer instinct unlike any I've seen. They bring aggression to the Circle."
His finger swings towards Vilkas and Farkas, sitting at the far end of the table and talking animatedly. They are some of the few Companions seemingly untouched by their celebrations from the previous night.
"The brothers have been with us since they were boys. Both bring a sense of honor and tradition to us. Vilkas is a master tactician and cautious, but when his temper is riled he is a storm on the wind. You know Farkas well, and he owes you his life. He is our heart, the one to remember that the Companions are brothers and sisters, not just a band of mercenaries. Though his head may be light, there is a simple wisdom and honesty to him. All of them bring perspective to the Companions and lead us far better than any one man could. After all, no man could ever live up to the legacy of Ysgramor."
Malenia rubs her chin, looking at the two brothers, and asks, "I recall they drank as much as the rest, if not more. How are they unaffected by the mead?"
Kodlak smirks, "Oh that's easy. They're the only ones smart enough to go to Arcadia's Cauldron and buy medicine for their hangovers."
The corner of Malenia's mouth twitches up at this revelation. Clever warriors indeed. Memories of some of the sharper of her knights dance along the surface of her thoughts at these tales. Caitlyn, Erin, Gwyneth, and… Finlay. Her knights, her inner circle of warriors. Now nothing more than rot, most likely. Her fault, her mistakes, had ruined the lives of the finest warriors in the Lands Between.
She would not do so again.
Malenia stands and bows her head, "Thank you for your hospitality, Kodlak Whitemane. But I fear I must depart, I have a great many personal matters to attend to."
"Of course, I won't keep you." Kodlak's face grows more serious, and his voice more firm. "But before you go, remember this. Whatever it is that's eating you, whatever guilt you're feeling… know that every warrior makes their own choices. And remember that the Companions will always have a door open to you."
Malenia sets her jaw, "Take care, Kodlak."
And then she leaves.
Eorlund is not at his forge, so Malenia visits Danica Pure-Springs at the Temple of Kynareth first. It is an open and spacious place, with floors of wood surrounding a mosaic of a bird in flight against a sky of burnished yellows and blues. The walls are covered in faded paints of a similar color, and vines grow thick from the tops of the columns.
Eight berths of stone are distributed around the mosaic, each in place at a cardinal or ordinal direction. A little more than half are occupied by men and women ranging from farmers to guards or merchants. All of them are injured in some shape or form. Two figures in familiar robes are tending to them, their hands aglow with healing miracles.
Malenia's presence is not unnoticed for long, and soon a familiar figure rises from one of the sick and approaches her. Danica looks more than a little relieved to see the demigoddess. "Lady Malenia, I didn't expect to actually see you today. You've been the talk of the town."
"So I've heard." Malenia dryly notes. The hushed whispers were obvious despite all intents, if one can hear them over the constant sermonizing. Malenia knows little of this 'Talos' but she certainly has little desire to learn more.
"Right, I imagine." Danica washes her hands in a bowl of clean water set next to a small shrine to Kynareth. Once she finishes, she gestures for Malenia to follow and leads her to a small study and bedroom tucked away from the center of the temple. Clearly the priestess's personal quarters.
Danica carefully begins to sift through a nearby bookcase, "Now, you're obviously a busy woman, so I made sure to do my research last night when I had the chance."
She pulls an old leather bound book from the shelf and sets it on the desk, quickly parsing through the pages until she settles on a few select lines of script. "The Eldergleam is older than any metal, from a time before man or elves. To even affect it, you have to tap into old magic. Which means you'll have to deal with Hagravens."
When she sees a faint expression of curiosity on Malenia's face, she explains, "Hagravens are…were, witches once. If the legends are true, they forsook it for greater magical power and prowess. They hate nature and revere the daedra. Very dangerous, all of them."
"But these creatures hold a means to pierce the Eldergleam's bark?" Malenia asks. Before Danica can respond, she adds, "And you're okay with using a weapon from these creatures to desecrate the Eldergleam?"
Danica sighs. Her expression is wear, and her voice tired when she speaks, "If I knew another way to restore the Gildergleam, I would take it. The Eldergleam is ancient, it will survive a little cut."
Malenia offers no reply, and Danica continues, "I've found that the Hagravens have a weapon called 'Nettlebane'. They use it for sacrificing spriggans. Last I heard, it was held in a Hagraven nest called Witchmist Grove."
Without a word, Malenia pulls her map from her pack and unfurls it on the desk. Danica takes a quill and marks both the location of the Witchmist Grove and the Eldergleam sanctuary. They are, at least, close to one another. Without another word, Malenia rolls the map up and places it back in her pack.
"I'll retrieve your weapon." she says simply.
Danica leans on her desk, a sad smile on her face, "Your spirit is strong. Kynareth's winds guide your path, Lady of the Haligtree."
After leaving the temple, Malenia stops briefly by the Gildergreen. A gust blows through the courtyard and the ancient oak groans. Malenia places her hand upon its gnarled surface, her own flesh a twisted reflection of the dying oak.
"One way or another, your suffering ends." she murmurs.
And then she moves for Dragonreach.
To Malenia's surprise, Eorlund is waiting at Farengar's lab when she arrives there. The old smith gives her a nod as she enters and then turns back to the wizard. Farengar claps his hands together and a ghost of a smile appears on his face.
"Perfect timing, my lady. I was about to dispatch a guard to fetch you. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of inviting Eorlund. I made a few startling discoveries about this 'unalloyed gold' that I feel is worth sharing."
Malenia shares a look of concern with Eorlund. He shrugs helplessly, clearly as in the dark as she is. "Very well then. What have you discovered?"
Farengar clears a space on his immense desk and produces one of the shards of unalloyed gold that Malenia had given him. "It's a long list, so I'll start with the first thing I discovered. On its own, your Unalloyed Gold shares the exact same properties as a normal chunk of gold, save for one key difference. Unalloyed Gold is almost completely resistant to magic. Sufficient heat from a normal fire source will make it malleable, but a magical fire will take ages to have the same effect. It is for this reason that I believe the enchantments in your blade failed. Whatever magic may have powered it, had no source to draw upon when introduced to the magicka of Aetherius."
"So how do we fix that?" Malenia asks. This revelation does not surprise her. After all, the reason so many of her prosthetics are made of the material is their natural resistance to the 'tarnish' of outside forces.
"For starters, you may want to consider a new blade." Eorlund suggests. "I mean no offense, but if the metal is no better than common gold, it's useless as a weapon."
Farengar interrupts before Malenia can respond. "That's… not entirely true, actually. Because this is where things get interesting."
He produces another shard, but this one is melded to a shard of a glossy obsidian-like material that Malenia does not recognize. The lines in Eorlunds face deepen with his frown. "Ebony, really mage?"
"Well, the logic is sound." Farengar says, "If you subscribe to the school of thought that Ebony is naught but the blood of Lorkhan or Shor or whatever name he's going by, then it is a divine metal. And Unalloyed Gold, according to our misplaced acquaintance here, is also divine in origin. So I figured it was worth seeing what happened when I tried creating an alloy mixed of the two and, well…"
He holds up an iron dagger in his other hand, and drags the golden edge along the blade while holding the ebony half like a handle. With a little effort, a sliver of iron shaves off from where the shard cuts. When he finishes, he holds it up to reveal the golden material untouched.
"All you need is a bit of Ebony and it acts like some sort of conductor for magicka."
Eorlund laughs, but there is no joy in the act, "That's all? We just need one of the rarest and most expensive metals in the whole of Tamriel and we're right as rain then, hm?"
"If it gets us a weapon to slay a dragon, then the cost is worth it." a voice interrupts.
All eyes turn towards the lab entrance. Jarl Balgruuf is standing there, hands on his hips. "Do not worry about cost, Eorlund. I will personally be funding this venture. The safety of my people has no price."
"The price is just part of the problem." Eorlund says. "There's only one ebony mine in the whole of Skyrim, and it's under the control of the blasted orcs. And you and I both know how much they love to share with outsiders."
"True." The Jarl admits. Then he smiles and says, "But Gloombound Mine is no longer the only source of Ebony in Skyrim."
Eorlund blinks once, while Farengar quickly begins to lose interest in the conversation and starts pouring through his books again. Malenia sighs and says, "Pardon my bluntness, Jarl Balgruuf, but what exactly makes this Ebony so valuable beyond its purported divinity?"
"It's one of the strongest materials in the nine provinces." Balgruuf explains. "Durable, strong, and surprisingly light. A warrior clad in Ebony is akin to a one man army. I've seen blades of Ebony cleave through lesser iron and pierce the finest plate without the slightest resistance. And most of it resides in Vvardenfell all the way in Morrowind. Or at least, it did."
He holds up a slip of paper, "News from the Rift tells of a discovery in Shor's Stone, the local mine has struck one of the thickest ores of Ebony seen in decades. It's just rumors, but aside from the trip it will save everyone the headache of dealing with the orcs."
Malenia thinks for a moment, as the name is familiar to her. Though she is still learning the language, she made certain to at least learn the primary landmarks on her map so that she may know the lay of the land. The Rift is a region home to one of Skyrim's larger settlements if her memory serves: Riften. Aside from noting the abundant creativity of Nordic naming traditions, Malenia also noted that the path to Riften would take her right past the Eldergleam Sanctuary and Witchmist Grove.
"I will investigate this Shor's Stone then." Malenia says. "I have business along the route to the Rift regardless. This will save me a trip."
"Excellent." Balgruuf walks up to her and hands her another slip of paper, "This is a personal letter from myself to Laila Law-Giver. It will inform her that any expenses for the Ebony Ore will be paid for by Whiterun. A mutual trade, if you will."
Malenia takes the letter and slips it in her pack. At the very least, with a name like that then Riften will be an orderly place. That said, a concern does occur to Malenia. She asks the Jarl, "And if she does not agree to your terms?"
A mischievous gleam shines in Jarl Balgruuf's eye, "Improvise. I'm sure you'll figure something out. When you're on your way out, talk to the guard by the gate. He'll have gold for you to cover a carriage trip to Riften and back. It'll be faster and kinder on your legs than walking."
He winces when he realizes exactly who he is talking to. Malenia takes the statement in stride though and bows her head, "You do me a great service, Jarl Balgruuf. I will do all that I can to pay this debt."
"As long as you're here when the dragon comes, consider that debt paid." he replies. "Now you should get going. It's a week's trip to Riften at best, so the sooner you're on the road, the sooner Eorlund can fix your blade."
The smith actually speaks up here and says, "Before you go, lass, I have one favor to ask of you. This is a big job and as good as I am, I only have two hands. As much as I hate to admit it, I need a second set for this. There is a smithy near the city gates run by a lass called Adrianne Avenicci. She's the stewards daughter, but she makes fine steel. Let her know that I'm in need of solid hands for this project."
Malenia nods an affirmative and says, "I will be off then. Grace guide you all, until my return."
"All I'm saying is, at least your father has the decency to let you be your own woman. I'm lucky if mine lets me leave the city without an armed escort, even though I am more than capable of defending myself."
Adrianne Avenicci does not even bother looking up from her forge while her friend bemoans her status. "Lydia, you are the daughter of the Jarl's brother. In times like these, he has every right to be cautious."
The woman rolls her eyes and hands Adrianne a pair of tongs, "It's nothing but hypocrisy coming from mister 'I'm not a man, I'm a weapon in human form'. He knows I can handle myself, he's just being overprotective."
"Yes, he is. We've already established that." Adrianne pauses her work and turns to her friend, "You just have to be patient."
Lydia folds her arms and huffs, "Easy for you to say. You're living the dream; you have your own shop, you're an excellent smith, and your husband's an absolute treat."
"Correct on all counts." Adrianne smirks. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. There are far more expectations placed on you, than there are on me. Besides, I'm still a smith in the same city that Eorlund Gray-Mane works in. Every piece of work I produce I have to compare to his."
Lydia winces. Her friend knows well the pain every smith in the city feels from comparing themselves to Eorlund and his skyforged steel. Once, Adrianne had a chance to work under the smith, but the war with the Thalmor had ensured that was not to be. Adrianne still had become an exceptional smith, but that was all she would ever be, compared to the legends that Eorlund could produce.
By comparison, Lydia has trained under the best warriors in Skyrim. Tutors from across Tamriel and the Companions themselves. She is an excellent warrior, simply an unproven one. The irony in their situations is not lost on the pair. It's likely part of why their friendship has persevered.
"I suppose in some way, we're all victims of circumstance." Lydia admits.
"Fate is fickle. But the breadth of our actions weave a far more interesting tapestry."
Both women turn towards the voice of the newcomer and freeze. Adrianne's hammer slips from her hand and almost falls into her forge. Lydia has to resist the urge to grab the blade at her waist. Both knew of the Lady of the Haligtree, rumor and hearsay spread through Whiterun like wildfire. But neither have seen her until this moment; Lydia training with the guards, and Adrianne drinking at the Bannered Mare with Ulfberth. The rumors do not do her justice.
She towers over them both and is forced to duck under the awning that surrounds Adrianne's shop. Her hair burns red, and her eyes shimmer like molten gold. Even as a cripple and dressed in mismatched clothes, she is stunning to behold.
Those golden eyes swivel towards Adrianne, who feels small and insignificant under their gaze. The Lady of the Haligtree, Malenia, speaks again, "Are you Adrianne Avenicci?"
The smith quickly smooths her apron with her greasy hands and clears her throat, "Aye." her voice comes out as a squeak.
"Eorlund Gray-Mane sent me." Malenia says. "He needs another to assist him with his latest project; he claims you are best suited for the task."
Adrianne steadies herself against the bellows of her forge. "You… Eorlund Gray-Mane wants me to help him?"
"That is what I said, yes."
A sound somewhere between a gasp, a shriek, and a groan escapes Adrianne's throat. Malenia raises a brow and Adrianne discovers that she possesses an urge to die on the spot. Lydia comes to her aid.
"Of course, my lady. I apologize for my friend, she has been hard at work in the forge all morning. She'll be up as soon as she can."
Adrianne closes her mouth with an audible 'clop' and nods silently. Malenia seems content with this, "Very well. Best of luck, Adrianne Avenicci."
Before Malenia can depart, Adrianne catches a gleam in the eye of her friend. She knows that look, it's the expression that has seen the both of them cleaning floors until their hands bleed, the look that has earned them scoldings from the Jarl and his brother so fierce that Whiterun itself seemed to shake under their fury. Lydia has an idea, and that is terrifying.
"My lady!" Lydia reaches out to grab Malenia's cloak, but thinks better of it. The towering woman swings back around to regard the young warrior with an unreadable expression.
Lydia coughs and stands straighter, "I understand that you are unfamiliar with the lands of Skyrim. If you are planning on leaving the safety of Whiterun's walls, might I offer my services as a… guide?"
A moment of silence. The Lady of the Haligtree is as inscrutable as she is tall. Perhaps it is merely Adrianne's imagination or a hallucination brought on by her excitement, but she swears she can see amusement twinkling in the woman's eyes.
Finally, Malenia speaks, "Very well. You may accompany me, young warrior. Perhaps you will prove your blade as we travel together."
Lydia swallows and smiles, "My blade is very well proven, I can assure you, my lady."
"If you say so." Malenia says, and gestures for Lydia to follow her.
The woman turns back to Adrianne, her face brimming with excitement, "Divines be with you Adrianne! Show Eorlund what you can do!"
Adrianne lets out a deep breath, "I will. And Lydia, try not to get hurt."
"I'll be fine! What's the worst that can happen?"
A/N: So this chapter took a bit because I rewrote the start four different times. Started with a hungover Malenia, then a sober Malenia then a mix and finally settled on what we got. Ultimately while a hungover Malenia would've been funny, I felt it would've been out of character for her at this point in time. She strikes me as someone that has forced herself to be an introvert to protect others, so long term celebrations with a group like the Companions might be a bit much for her.
The rest though was decently planned out ahead of time. Lot more fetch questing until the Dragons inevitably stick their scaly snouts where they don't belong. Next chapter should be more straightforward and have some interesting twists I guarantee no one will expect.
Until then, please leave your comments and criticisms below, and I will see you guys next time!