Chapter 1

Aurelia

15th of Evening Star, 4E 183

The Blue Palace was silent, except for Elira's strained breaths echoing through the halls. Two months too soon, her child came. A small, fragile girl, born in the early hours of the morning.

Sybille Stentor moved swiftly, her hands glowing faint with magicka while cradling the infant. Elira watched, pale and exhausted. A tear slipping down her face, her smile trembling as her vision blurred.

"Closer, Sybille—please," she rasped.

"Of course," Sybille murmured, still weaving incantations, stabilizing the child and easing her into Elira's arms. The newborn stirred, reacting to her mother's presence. The infant let out a soft cry, frail but alive.

Elira's gaze softened as her love cut through her exhaustion. "Aurelia," she whispered. Her fingers brushed the baby's, curling round them. The life flickering in her eyes, dimming fast. Sybille's chest tightened as she saw the blood pooled beneath Elira-it was too much, too quickly. The toll of her childbirth's was beyond her spells.

With a final gentle exhale, Elira stilled, her spirit slipping away. Aurelia nestled closer completely unaware, mewling faintly in the quiet room.

12 years later, Aurelia is a young girl with golden hair and an adventurous spirit, wandering around the wooded hills just outside of Solitude. As she walks among the trees, she hears a soft high-pitched mewl. Aurelia ventures toward the sound.

Pushing aside snow-laden shrubs, she finds a small sabre cat cub, its golden fur glinting in the light, his tiny body trembling from the cold.

The cub looks up at her with wide frightened eyes and lets out another soft mewl. Aurelia kneels and extends her hand cautiously to the little cub. Despite its fear, the cub carefully steps toward her, pressing its tiny nose to her palm.

She scooped him up. His small body shivering as she tucked him against her chest then she trekked back to the Blue Palace. In the gardens, she hid him behind a clutch of shrubs, leaving a pile sweet rolls taken from the kitchens. Pleased with the tiny sanctuary she's made for the cat she smiled down at her new found friend, then she bolted for the throne room, dirt smudging her skirts.

Sybille emerged from a shadowed arch. "Aurelia—where've you been?" She asked half-scolding half-worried. Her eyes narrowing at the mud streaked across her dress. "You look wild."

Aurelia froze. "Exploring," she said while brushing at her dress, a grin tugging despite herself.

Sybille sighed while reaching out, thumbing dirt from Aurelia's cheek. "Your father's waiting. There's someone here for you to meet. No more delays." Her gaze held steady. "Remember what I've taught you."

Aurelia nodded, straightening and lifting her chin. Adjusting her stride smoothing into something poised as she headed for the throne room.

Aurelia takes a deep breath and smooths down her dress before taking a step into the throne room. As she enters she can feel the weight of her father's gaze. High King Torygg, is seated on his throne, pride in his eyes as he watches his daughter approach.

Beside him stands a tall figure, his back straight and poised with his hands clasped behind his back, dressed in Thalmor robes. His hood is pulled low, casting shadows over his sharp features, but his piercing amber eyes are visible, assessing her.

"Ah, Aurelia. " king toryggs voice rings out warmly, "you've made it at last. " he gestures to the man beside him, " This is Justiciar Ondolemar, Head of the thalmor justiciars. He will be your mentor during the coming years, guiding you in matters of diplomacy and politics. You will also receive lessons in Aldmeris. "

Torygg pauses his gaze shifting briefly to ondolemar, then back to Aurelia. " I trust him to help you refine the skills and knowledge that you will need to one day lead Skyrim. His wisdom and experience are invaluable. I expect you to learn from him and treat him with respect. "

Ondolemar gives a slight nod, his hands remain clasped behind his back as he observes Aurelia with a calm, but discerning gaze. His voice is smooth and deliberate as he speaks " It is an honor to meet you." His tone respectful but formal, " I look forward to guiding you, helping you understand complexities of leadership and diplomacy. Together we will prepare for the challenges that lie ahead."

Aurelia standing tall, meets his gaze with confidence. " It is an honor, Justiciar Ondolemar. I look forward to learning from you. " She replies, her voice steady despite the tension from his intense scrutiny.

Aurelia slipped out of the throne room her breath easing, shoulders dropping as the heavy doors thudded shut. A Justiciar as her mentor. At 12, she caught the edge of it, those amber eyes weren't just watching; they were weighing her.

She started down the corridor. To distracted with her thoughts she nearly bumped into Sybille.

"Have I messed up?" Aurelia asked, voice low, barely a murmur.

Sybille shook her head, "No Aurelia, but you must tread carefully. Trust him as you would trust any other tool of the Thalmor. " Sybille smiles softly at student. "Do not be afraid. Stay sharp and true to yourself. Challenge him when you feel it is right."

Aurelia forced a smile and nodded. Processing Sybille's advice.

"Dinner's waiting," Sybille added. "Odar's got sweet rolls out."

Aurelia's breath hitched as she remembered, "I've got to—" She bolted down to the gardens. She shoved through the shrubs, heart beating out of her chest. She was relieved when she saw the sabre cat cub curled up, asleep, surrounded by sweet roll crumbs.

She crouched down to look at him closer. Don't worry Halbjorn, I'll take care of you.

Sybille's words echoed-trust him as you would any tool. It sounded cruel-to think of someone like that, but she has a point. I need to be careful. Her fingers brushed the cub's side, soft and warm. Maybe she could play this. She could learn from Ondolemar, keep her guard up. She stood, dusting her hands then she left, heading for the dining hall. Her thought still brewing.

The next day Aurelia enters the palace library with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Her first lesson is to begin today and she is determined to prove herself.

Ondolemar is already seated at a large oak table, several scrolls and books open in front of him. His expression is impassive, but his amber eyes lock onto her as she approaches. A brief cold, nod acknowledges her arrival.

"Sit" he commands, his tone measured but firm.

Aurelia takes a seat across from him, she glances at the papers spread across the table, Elvish. She recognizes it and knows the language is notoriously difficult. Without wasting time, Ondolemar slides a scroll across the table toward her.

"High Elven," he begins, "is more than just a language. It is the key to understanding the Aldermeri way of thinking- our history, our culture, our place in Tamriel. And it is essential for your future, both as a leader and dealing with the powers of this world."

Aurelia unrolls the scroll, the intricate characters swirl before her eyes. She tries to conceal how overwhelmed she feels.

"Do not mistake this for a mere academic exercise," ondolemar continues, his gaze unwavering. "A deep understanding of the Elven language will sharpen your mind and allow you to see the world with clarity. Now let us begin."

It becomes clear ondolemar is a calm but firm teacher. Though Not lenient in any way, always expecting perfection. Every time Aurelia made a mistake he would correct her sharply, but without anger. His corrections were precise and calculated. She heard him say, "That is not right. Again Aurelia," many times, but Aurelia was determined to get it right. Each time she started over she was steadier and more confidant than before.

After a few hours, Aurelia finishes reading a scroll herself. The words are harsh and foreign on her tongue, and she stumbles over the syllables. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment but she bites her lip trying not to show it.

Ondolemar keeps his gaze on her not speaking for a moment, before finally saying "Your pronunciation is… lacking." His tone is a bit colder than before, "The nuances in High Elven are not to be taken lightly. Every word, every letter, carries meaning behind its surface. It is a reflection of how the Aldermeri view this world. There is no room for error."

Aurelia tries again, attempting to hide how discouraged she feels.

Ondolemar leans forward slightly, "Better, but still not enough. The elven language requires precision Aurelia. If you wish to understand the complexity of our culture you must speak with intent. Each word deliberate."

Ondolemar rose swiftly, "That concludes are lesson for today," he said. "You have made some progress, though I expect greater focus moving forward."

He gathers the books and scrolls with practiced efficiency, stacking them neatly before looking toward Aurelia. "You are dismissed, Lady Aurelia."

Ondolemar stood in the embassy's halls his back straight, hands clasped behind him. He stood with ease of someone familiar with waiting, biding their time. A senior Justiciar sat across from him a parchment rustling under their fingers, eyes scanning it slow. The silence stretched on.

Finally, they glanced up with a blank face. "Ondolemar," they said, "the Dominion has a new post for you. Solitude. You'll serve the High King—or so he'll think. Your real work's his daughter, the princess Aurelia."

His brow twitched, "Torygg's daughter?"

"Yes." The Justiciar's gaze sharpened cold, pinning him. "She's a child. We need her mind bent our way. We need her loyal to the Dominion. You'll be her mentor and later advisor. Shape her into the ideal leader. One that will benefit the Dominions interest."

Ondolemar dipped his head, barely a nod, his eyes steady. "Clear enough."

The Justiciar leaned in just a fraction his voice dropping low. "She's not to slip. You'll report her progress, keep her on track. If she proves difficult… you are authorized to use… subtle measures to ensure compliance. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," he said smoothly, tilting his head in a faint bow, already weighing the game.

I've been given orders to be a glorified babysitter? It sounds better than the stone beds in Markarth at least.