#celedil

[ghosthunterandpriest]

"It runs in the family, Celedil?"

Celedil crosses his arms over his chest and looks sullen, “I inherited most of my mothers features, but I have my fathers eyes and my fathers temper.” He scowls when looks at his hands, “Even dead, he won’t leave me be.”

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Celedil was a dibellan???

((Yes. I don’t know how a dibellan temple works, but I’ve seen some headcanons I’ve adopted as my own. Celedil is trained in basic alchemy (he is one of the few that would kill himself with restoration rather than heal), singing and ~pleasure~ or whatever it is you call it.

He wasn’t particuarly worshipful, but he is the dutiful kind of mer and did what was asked of him and he did it well. And while he doesn’t speak of it anymore, it doesn’t have much to do with him being ashamed of it (I imagine it to be a fairly common practice, sending your children to a temple and one isn’t worse than the other) but rather that while when he was younger he fit into the role of being a dibellan, he doesn’t do so anymore. Scarred, aching and old he feels as if though that part of his life is over and done with and he prefers not to talk about it.

(He wears a dibellan charm, sometimes, because even if he doesn’t particuarly worship any god, the dibellan priestesses were kind and dibella is as good a patron as any other)

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Thirty-sixth lesson [Celedil and Wenselyr]

They are already dating (or, well, dating-ish), so there is really no reason for him to be this nervous.

They have both stated their intentions, like two mer of their age should, they have both agreed on a time period of which they shall try this out, and see if it leads anywhere. Well, to be fair, Celedil had been the one insisting on that. For being a mer born in nobility, Wenselyr is an ahmer who does not particuarly bother with traditions.

So here Celedil stands, slightly nervous, with two small but fine-looking books in his hands, outside Wenselyrs door.

It's been months, and he has a new scar forming over his right shoulder, and so it takes him a while to raise his hand and knock on the door.

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Headcanon: Thalmor

Celedil did not start out in the Thalmor, and while he wears Thalmor colors, he has been a bonafide Thalmor for only a, relatively, short time. He is instead part of Alinors military, which is where he recieved his title of Commander.

He knows that the Thalmor lies, and is not quite convinced by the many tenets held by the Thalmor, but his hatred of the Empire runs very deep, and the Thalmor were the ones to bring it to its knees.

He officially became a Thalmor after the Oblivion Crisis, bringing with him his right-hand, Mor Secue, into it.

[ghosthunterandpriest]

How did Wenselyr and Celedil fall in love?

There was not one moment.

You hear it in the stories, in the fairytales, in the tellings of someones mothers brothers cousin that knew someone that married someone else. In all of those, you hear about The Moment. The moment where two pair of eyes meet over a crowded marketplace, or on opposite sides of the ballroom floor, and they both know.

Real life, as it turns out, is not that simple.

It started, maybe, after Wenselyr was blinded.

In that moment where Celedil sees beyond the facade of the noble (a facade that stayed even after Wen rejected everything about the Rancale name except the actual name itself) and sees a mer that does his best in a situation where most would’ve given up. Celedil appreciates stubbornness, and he respects someone who fights in the face of adversity, so he offers to teach the younger mer Alteration.

It’s not love, not yet, and its barely anything but a handshake between a teacher and his student.

But then its the first lesson, and he sees Wenselyr smiles, and he shows the way to twist your fingers when you want a spoon to bend, and there is something there, something more than just a friend helping a friend out.

The second lesson he learns that Wenselyr hates being a beginner but loves learning, he realizes that Wenselyrs hands are cold and that the other mer rubs his hands together underneath the table because it’s rude to do so above and he notices that when Wenselyr concentrates, really concentrates, he scrunches up his nose which makes three freckles over his eyebrow and nosebridge align into a perfect triangle.

Between the second and third, Wenselyr sends him a letter, it’s dictated and the only thing that’s written by Wenselyr is the mers name and it’s splotty and not at all gracefully written, but its so typical that he doesn’t allow someone else to sign his name and that he will do it, blindness be damned. Celedil, without really meaning too, smiles when he reads the letter and when he realizes that, he drops the letter and the smile at the same time.

The third lesson he contemplates not showing up, because he’s really way too old for this, and Wenselyr might be blind and a disgraced Rancale but he’s still so much more than Celedil deserves. But of course he shows up, right on time, because the only thing worse than seeing Wenselyr is not seeing him and that’s when he realizes that this is so much more than it should ever have been. Wenselyr smiles to him when they say goodbye, and its a slow, secretive smile and Celedil has to stop three houses down and breathe for a moment in order to be able to continue without falling over.

The fourth lesson he thinks about nothing but how Wenselyr smells, about the way his fingers move, about the gracefulness in each movement.

The fifth he stays home, sends a letter by courier and apologizes. He tries sleeping, as if though all of this is something you can just sleep off. It fails, of course, and the next time he stands outside Wenselyr door he’s not entirely sure if he’s excited or if he’s panicking.

The sixth time he makes Wenselyr laugh by telling the dumbest joke he knows, and watching the normally staid mer lean against a table and laugh so hard he can’t breathe doesn’t really help things.

The seventh he allows himself to be indulgent, for just a second, and lean just a bit too close. He becomes so embarassed that he doesn’t realize that Wenselyr breathes stopped for a second too.

The eighth, ninth and tenth goes about the way you could expect, with Celedil pining for something he can’t have and not realizing that the house is surprisingly clean every time he comes over, or that Wenselyrs hands linger just a bit too long when he gives the older mer his cup of tea.

The eleventh lesson doesn’t really happen, instead its just the two of them, hands around their cups, talking about everything and nothing. He learns that Wenselyr scratches the side of his nose when he’s embarassed and that his favourite food is wine-cooked mussels.

After that it’s not really numbered anymore, they just meet and talk and if Celedils entirely honest he’ll admit to being very favourable to missions in the Whiterun area during this time.

But then Wenselyr gets the wrong idea, and Wenselyr leaves because he thinks that Celedil doesn’t want him, or that they have no future together, and Celedil has to chase the damn fool down. When he counts he realizes that this, him catching Wenselyr in Solitude, in the rain, his breath caught in his throat, would’ve counted as the thirty fifth lesson had they still numbered them and he’s quite happy with that because both three and five are two of his favourite numbers.

So thats when, with Wenselyrs cold hand in his, soaking wet from the rain (it rains in Skyrim more than it doesn’t but right now he doesn’t care), heart beating so hard he can barely hear Wenselyrs surprised murmur of 'Celedil?' when the other mer realizes who it is, thats when he realizes he’s in love.

[ghosthunterandpriest]

REUNIONS

"You look like shit, old man." Faer doesn't even seem that surprised to see him, even though they haven't really met for the last hundred or so years.

"Thanks. You too." Celedil mutters back, self consciously touching the tips of his fingers to the side of his face.

"Commander!" Vanye exclaims, looking torn between happy to see him and terrified of the older mers scarred appearance. He finally settles on being a mix of both, touching his hand to his heart and bowing, "It is good to see you again."

"Same to you, Vanye." Celedil says, his lip twitching into a smile, the still healing skin of his straining at the motion, "Faer, I need to talk to you." He quiets, looks at Vanye, "In private."

"Last time you asked to speak to me in private, I got stuck in Elsweyr with a Khajiti long-mane underneath my skirts." She steadfastly ignores Vanye's outraged gasp of disapproval, "Besides, I got stuck with this one -" she motions with her thumb towards Vanye, "- thanks to you. And he eavesdrop."

"I do not." Vanye smooths down his priest robes, looking prissy in the way only the truly noblest of altmer can do.

"Lying is a sin, Aldataur."

"Well, this is sensitive." Celedil continues, "So if you could -"

"Why don't you just introduce me, uncle." Seron steps in behind Celedil, smirking slightly as Vanye's jaw drops, "Hello brother. I can see you still haven't understood that blue really is not your color."

Vanye, flushing a deep red, bares his teeth, "Yeah, well, I see you're still an idiot."

"Thought long and hard about that one, did you?" Seron smiles wider, Vanye goes a deeper shade of red. Celedil looks to Faer,

"Yeah, I'm going to need you to take care of him for a while."

"This is what always happen, you bring home strays and after a couple of months, I'm the ones stuck with them."

"I'll pay you."

"... But if you insist, I guess there is little I can do."

[styliferous]

YELLS MORE

[styliferous]

Putting it up as a separate thing because I can

Based on some brilliant writing from Syster