An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Nerevar had not been entirely honest with Voryn.
Mephala had been easy enough to gain the favor of, especially after he'd eliminated the presence of the Dark Brotherhood in Mournhold. Boethiah's bloody grin he could almost FEEL, when he'd prayed before that altar, and said that the blood of those assassins was his sign of faithfulness. He existed still because they had fallen before him. Azura...was less interested in this change of mind, had ranted and raged at him. But he asked of her what he had asked of the others.
Cure Voryn's insanity, for clearly that was what was going on. It had happened to all of the Tribunal in some way or another through their connection to the Heart of Lorkhan, but they'd had outlets, like the Akaviri invasion and fighting Dagon and things like that. Voryn...Voryn had had nothing but revenge, and the memory of him. And his beloved was happy now he'd come back, but to make that happiness complete, the Heart had to be fixed.
Boethiah had asked that of him, and he'd somewhat wryly said 'yes mother'...which had seemed to please her.
Repair the Heart, and return my brother.
But how will that work, if I leave the Heart in place?
You, Nerevar. Our missing brother will return through you.
Azura had reiterated the point when he spoke to her. She had apparently made peace with this new path he was forging, found a way to turn it to her advantage
But before he could count on fixing Voryn, there was something else to do.
Saint Nerevar had a wedding to attend.
---------------------------------
"Jiub?" Nibani was confused to walk out of the back office to find him (and several customers) staring at the TV set up in the corner. "You're here early. It's only eight, what're you doing here?"
"Power's out at my place, wifi's down here...we're watching the wedding."
"What wedding?"
"What other one would we be watching?" one of the ashlander customers spoke up, "By Azura, look at these outfits. You could buy a manor house, a couple Hlaalu senators, and a horde of slaves in golden bracers for what some of these things must cost!"
"Your jealousy is showing..." another said, "And how do you know, anyway?"
"My mother deals in fabrics," the first replied.
"You want expensive, check out the bridal gown," Jiub said, "Look at that monstrosity. Gold from neck to ankle--"
After giving a breakdown on the gown, the sequins, the cut of the neckline, and even the sleeves, he realized the rest of them were staring at him.
"Get off my dick, bridal shows are good background noise. You learn a lot of shit just by osmosis."
"And how many hours did you have to hear before you learned all this?"
Jiub laughed off the question, making zero attempt to actually answer it, and got coffee for the two ashlanders when they asked for it. The vows were being read, and then, suddenly--
Nobody who later talked of the wedding would remember how Sadara had slumped slightly on hearing those words, nor the quick way she turned towards the source of the noise.
At the end of the aisle, holding a piece of parchment paper, was Nerevar.
"On what grounds do you object?" the priest asked, surprised but seeming to take the interruption in stride.
"On the grounds that the groom is planning to have his bride murdered," Nerevar said. He held the paper in his hand aloft and looked side to side to make sure he was still being watched. "I have here a writ of execution written at the King's behest."
"Well any Dunmer can--" someone started, but they were quickly cut off.
"From the Dark Brotherhood." Nerevar spoke loudly. There were whispers immediately afterwards. He caught Barenziah's eye as he walked forward and handed her the paper.
"It's real," she said, then looked up at Helseth who glared in silent fury and seemed for once unable to produce an answer, "How could you--"
"Honestly," someone was heard saying, "...so Imperial, can't even hire the Morag Tong like a civilized Dunmer..."
It was a sentiment that echoed several times - and while it was going about Nerevar rushed forward and swept Sadara into his arms, bridal gown and veil and all, before dashing back out the chapel doors.
The only actual cheering seemed to come from the Skyrim delegation, particularly from the High King.
"Now THAT is how you steal a wife!"
Chaos erupted further at the now-pointless reception. Gossip was flying, mention of Saint Nerevar stealing the bride at the king's own wedding - and disappearing to the Three only knew where! Some would say he'd boarded a ship, others a waiting silt strider - the truth would not be figured out until much later, and the wedding itself wouldn't stop being talked about for months after that.
Helseth was ready to gut someone, and seeing as how he didn't seem capable of discriminating in his placement of blame, Barenziah was silently elected to speak to him.
She came up to him bearing two glasses of wine, one of which she sipped at, the other she set on the table before her son.
"That scheming bitch, she let him in somehow. I don't know who--who she--who could have done it."
"It could have been anyone," Barenziah said, "You're seen as an Imperial puppet, it could have been a Tribunal worshiper. Though I'm not certain why they'd help spirit her away, unless they thought she was...sympathetic or of a mind to..."
"She was married to the Sharmat, she was NOT a Tribunal worshiper! This was the work of the Sixth House!"
"A marriage the House itself did not support."
"The followers only parrot what they're told by their Lord. What his relations think hardly matters to them. They--"
"Helseth!" Barenziah said, "You're not going to be able to get this under control if you cannot master your own mood."
"You're right, mother, I know you are, I simply--"
"Have something to drink," she gestured at the glass of wine before him and took another sip from her own. "You know it will help."
"I--there's no servants to taste it. I'm not going to risk..." Helseth gasped when Barenziah took a drink from his glass herself. "Mother, anyone could have poisoned that!"
But after thirty seconds elapsed with no apparent sign or symptom, he took his own sip, and then a gulp. Half the glass was gone before he stood up.
"I needed that," he groaned, "Thank you, mother, you always sheem to know whats..."
"Something wrong, Helseth?" Barenziah asked. She moved quickly to his elbow when he coughed and stumbled, seeming for the moment like a posing doll with its joints suddenly unloosed.
"Help!" he called out, "Hepp me, mother!"
The door burst open at the sound of that shout, and one of Helseth's royal guard came forward. The king was crying at his mother's breast, begging her to help, begging her to save him - but she made no move except to physically comfort him.
Until the royal guard stood before her.
Barenziah reached into her robe and pulled out an envelope which she handed over to the guard.
He opened and read:
King Hlaalu Helseth
The afore-mentioned personage has been marked for honorable execution in accordance to the lawful tradition and practice of the Morag Tong Guild. The Bearer of this non-disputable document has official sanctioned license to kill the afore-mentioned personage.
Barenziah looked down at her once-beloved boy, and smiled the rueful smile of the reluctant killer.
"I'm so sorry, Helseth. I'm so, so sorry. But I told you - the endless scheming and plotting and murdering...when I heard what you'd done to your own flesh and blood..." She held him closer, now openly weeping.
"W..." Helseth's struggling lips barely managed his last words, "Why did...?"
"I did not escape one Imperial tormentor only to let myself birth another," she said, her voice turning iron despite the tears, "And I would not inflict a second Tiber Septim on a woman for all the gold in Tamriel."
Now, or never...
Helseth struggled, but Barenziah held him until he moved no more.
This legit is what came to my mind during the scene. Safe to say, Medreni immediately gtfo. Definitely not doing this with a professional paranoid who tried to kill them twice, and still refused to directly admit it. Bad communication will be an issue in the long run.
First Crassius, and now Helseth. What the hell is Hlaalu doing in their corporate training?
.
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Full ID (also in alt text):
A four panel comic, in pencil. Starring King Helseth of Morrowind and Medreni, the Nerevarine.
Panel 1: King Helseth saying "This is a symbol of your loyalty to me (and my approval)"
Panel 2: Medreni (Nerevarine) with a startled/wtaf expression, and murmurs, "what the...?
Panel 3: Medreni's hand with an extravagant ruby amulet nestled in it, but the cord is replaced leather and prongs. it's shining. Text below reads: "you have received Helseth's Collar"
Panel 4: Medreni turns around and leaves. Medreni is dressed in a robe and Indoril Pauldrons. "okay, time to leave", he says. Helseth held up his hand, said "you have further service to your king!", to which Medreni says, "no thanks! not with you!"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Author's Note: I reiterate, this one really got away from me...this was supposed to be a goofier AU and it turned into a telenovela...
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Sadara had gone very quiet of late. The reason was quite obvious, and despite the sudden amount of attention she was getting from the palace servants, it seemed not to touch her. She kept mentioning being tired, and while the healers declared nothing to be wrong with her physically, some said it might simply be nerves. Rest would always help, so as long as she tended to what Helseth asked of her, her extended sleeping hours went unchallenged.
Austere, the papers called their future queen. A strict and simple match for the King. Some said there could be no great love between the two, that the King sought this particular bride for reasons known only to himself. Certainly there was no fortune or title to speak of on her side to tempt him into the match. Others said it was the case of a noble suitor putting back together a heart broken by the Sharmat - a king among men to lift her above her sorrows (this was less common, but if asked about one's opinion on the romance by Helseth, one usually answered with this).
Sadara herself would not confirm or deny any of the stories, and seemed to dedicate herself almost wholly to Helseth's cause of abolition. 'A stain on the face of Morrowind,' she said, 'A stain that should long ago have been wiped away.'
The insults slung at Helseth were directed at her as well - that she was far too influenced by her birth and upbringing in Cyrodiil. But from what Barenziah could see, Sadara only smiled serenely and it seemed as though the words passed right through her. Even the honey-covered barbs Morgiah threw on her arrival seemed not to cause upset.
"You handle them very well," Barenziah said to her, as Sadara breathed a sigh of relief at dinner, "Almost as if you were born to it."
"It's not being born to it, it's practice. I've been called worse things."
"Perhaps it's also that you're the incarnate of Nerevar? I've heard that said too."
"Almalexia said as much when I saw her last," Sadara replied quietly, "She seems pleased with this match, and was sure you were too."
She paused.
"Are you?"
"Of course I am. Perhaps between the two of us we can direct Helseth's attention a little better."
Another pause.
"Was this your plan?" Sadara asked, "To find someone to rein in the King? I'm afraid you've chosen incorrectly if that's the case."
Always proper vocabulary now, but stiff, like a statue. Whatever Helseth had said or done, it had spooked her into behaving exactly as a noble should...or at least how he thought one should.
"You suit him, that is all." Barenziah said. But privately, she had other thoughts.
Rein him in? Oh, my dear girl, I intend much more than that.
-----------------------------
"Thank you," Nerevar said, "Really, you have no idea what you're doing for--"
"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me." Morgiah's arms uncrossed and her hands moved down to smooth out a wrinkle in her gown, "Honestly, I knew that Helseth would choose a woman from the Empire, but I didn't think he would follow the Emperor's own practice of marrying a woman who clearly despises him."
"Is it really that obvious?"
"As much as anything around here." There was a pause. "Strange, how the King should neglect to at least invite Saint Nerevar to the wedding. So long as you avoid Almalexia's notice you should be able to get in and out."
"And what do you get from this?" Nerevar asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. "Do you want the crown of Morrowind for yourself?"
Morgiah gave a harsh laugh. "Why should I want this ugly ash-blasted land when I have the beauty of Firsthold? Perhaps the land here suits you, but I would prefer nothing more than never to see it again."
"Again - what benefit do you derive? If you intend to slay me I promise it will not go well for you. Lord Dagoth will--"
"I want you both as allies," Morgiah said, "There are many who would love nothing more than to see me unseated from my throne, and while I am perfectly capable of retaining power...it always helps to have outside aid."
"You want an alliance?"
"Of course I do. Your dark future husband, he has many arts at his disposal...arts I would encourage to be used to keep certain troublesome forces in Firsthold at bay. As for my royal brother..."
(It was the first time, but certainly not the last, that Nerevar would think how much alike Morgiah and Almalexia were.)
"Well, at any rate..." there was a pause, "I'm certain his mouse of a fiancee will be pleased to be rid of him."
"Excuse me?" he was momentarily stunned, and about to retort - but Morgiah merely smiled and left before he could do it.
----------------------------------------
Sadara was alone, as expected, looking into a mirror prior to getting started for the day - and she jumped in her seat when she saw the door open and Helseth step in.
"You really must learn to better hide your fears," he said with a slight laugh, "How can you expect to do well at my side if not?"
"You're...just the first person to..."
"...to truly frighten you? I'm flattered." Helseth had another small box with him, "I thought I might reward you for your compliance so far."
He set the box on the table before her, opened it, and drew out a gold chain with a black pearl at its center. One that seemed to match the one in the ring she'd been given.
"You refuse to open the wallet I've given you and spend anything to look more like the role I'm giving you, so you've forced me to do it myself."
"The people seem to like the idea of--"
"I don't particularly care what the people think." Helseth brought the chain up and around her neck, fastening it tightly. "You will look as you should."
Sadara looked into the mirror, and had the distinct impression of that necklace - that it was the collar to his leash.
Well, perhaps that was right. She was only Helseth's dog now.
"There now, you see? Far better than what those devils gave you."
"Of course," Sadara's voice was hollow as she reached up to touch the pearl. "Thank you."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Author's Note: How am I on chapter 21 already???
----------------------
Sadara was feeling pleasantly woozy, and - for once - remembering everything she'd seen and heard in her dreams.
Right away she scolded herself for agreeing or at least seeming to agree to what had been told her. Had it really BEEN him, she thought? Nothing was ever that clear.
What WAS clear was how eagerly she'd wanted to believe him, if for no other reason than to luxuriate in the touch of his skin. It had been ages since she'd touched someone, really touched them in more than a passing way. And then there'd been that night at Greg's party, that night she never wanted to end.
You know who he is, she thought quietly, trying to make sense of this, This doesn't make sense.
It really didn't. Dagoth UR, she thought, trying to remind herself of things Nibani had said. Creepy cult leader. Weirdo who walked around wearing practically nothing. The guy blighting half of Morrowind with his so-called divine disease. The one literally called a word meaning 'devil'. The one who hadn't had the courtesy to say who he was before she'd made the mistake of banging him. The one who wore a shit disguise and sang an old song about losing one's love to a redhead. In retrospect, a little too on the nose...
Sadara took a deep breath and sat up.
Her next thought was that he'd fucked like it was his last chance to do it.
As long as it had been for me, it was probably even more so for him...
He was a dangerous man, and even if he were entirely smitten with her, she thought, reaching for any reason to push herself logically away - was it really a good idea to encourage him? On top of EVERYTHING ELSE, as if she needed more reasons - surely Gilvoth wouldn't be the only one displeased at her presence, and dealing with a crazy family could definitely ruin the shine of whatever MIGHT be had.
Really, said a voice that sounded vaguely like Gilvoth, in the back of her mind, Do you think you belong there?
"No," she said aloud. Going to that palace - or stronghold, or whatever it was, it gave her the distinct feeling of being out of place, a canvasari among the elite, and if she wanted that, she could go see Almalexia or Helseth, without any complicated feelings.
Or thoughts of those big sad eyes Dagoth Ur had turned at her.
Ugh, why did he have to appear NOW? Why couldn't he just leave me alone?
She felt deceived, used, unwanted - but most of all confused. Why couldn't things be simpler?
And then she thought of Azura.
Of course. It was all because Azura had decided to use her as a pawn. Because Azura, who claimed to love her followers, who put herself above the other Good Daedra, was not above using her followers.
Sadara could already imagine what Nibani would say. 'You were a piece in a grand plan, the plan to destroy the wicked Tribunal! Nerevar Moon-and-Star was ever Azura's servant, will surely do as the Queen of Dawn and Dusk asks. Can you not see the part you have played in what is to come?'
She didn't want to play a part. She didn't want to be a cog in someone else's plan, tossed aside once used up. And that, she thought, was another reason not to cozy up to Dagoth Ur. Even if he said he wanted her alongside Nerevar, what was to stop her being tossed out with nothing once he grew bored of her? Rich folk did it all the time with mistresses. Her good name (ha, as if she had one to begin with) would be ruined and she'd have nothing out of it all.
Her head was buzzing again. The point she was trying to come to, the point she was trying to convince herself of, was that it wasn't a good idea to want this. Even if Dagoth Ur was telling the truth, she was sure she'd never be more than the third wheel in what he had with Nerevar. There was a time she'd have been happy with that, even working at the Waffle House - given time she would probably have been open to it, had he gone about things the right way. At that point she would have said morals were for people with money.
I deserve better than that...but it didn't look like he was the type to take a mistress.
And that wasn't even considering Nerevar! What use would HE have for her? She had never been that nice to him, before he'd come back - really, who would have been, if they'd started hearing voices that wasted their phone data on top of that? He hadn't come to see her either, so--
She shook her head. Thought like this was burning daylight. She got dressed for the day and set out towards Barenziah's chambers. Of late the Queen Mother had been less and less sociable with others, claiming she was old enough to be entitled not to speak to anyone if she didn't feel like it. Her bones pained her, and another trip to Tel Fyr was in the cards soon.
"My bones ache constantly now. The doctors up at Fyr's help," Barenziah said over breakfast, "But age takes its toll. Once you hit three hundred you start noticing little things. At three hundred and fifty it gets more pronounced...and now at more than four hundred..."
"You still look wonderful."
Barenziah huffed slightly. "I still look wonderful because I wear expensive robes, and if you drape a thousand gold's worth of jewelry on top of it, I look alright."
She then gestured with her right hand, displayed a Hlaalu signet ring, and another with a large sapphire on it.
"I've never seen many rings like this up close before," she said, then stopped, "Well, the one I woke up wearing was gorgeous. When I was...still married."
"A Dagoth ring, no doubt? I'm sure it's worth a fortune."
"Naturally...I had to hand it over when I delivered Nerevar's bones, though. One of Dagoth Ur's brothers...took offense to my having it." She paused, and thought back, remembering not only the insult, but her reply. Then her expression hardened. "Anyway, some rings can be a bit too heavy on the hand, so I'm glad I don't have to wear any such things again. It was overlarge, for what it was."
There was a lengthy silence as they both finished eating their guar and eggs, and then a blackberry pastry Sadara went to get from the kitchens. They were on to coffee when the door opened to let in - King Helseth. He walked in - looked over them, took in the sight of them. He looked first at her, then at Barenziah.
Sadara muttered a quick 'your majesty' as greeting and kept her eyes on her pastry. It really was very good, a little tart but in just the right way.
"Mother," Helseth said, "You know you were meant to hold court today."
"Hold court? Isn't that what you so love to do?" Barenziah gave a little laugh. "Helseth, surely you aren't going to go off and leave me here to handle these fools?"
"As a matter of fact, there is a matter of importance I need to attend to in Vivec City..." There was a pause. "I know you don't wish to tend these things but as I've no one else I trust to handle such things..."
Barenziah sighed. "Fine, I'll go and fetch that tiara you insisted on buying me."
"I could fetch it for you," Sadara said, "It's in the upper wardrobe isn't it?"
"No, no," Barenziah stood, gesturing at the younger woman, "You stay here. I insist."
A few moments later she was gone. Sadara chanced to look up at Helseth, who was giving her an expression somewhere between baleful and searching. The same look she remembered the first time she met him.
"I will make this quick," Helseth said, "Because I do not believe in mincing words when it comes to these things."
"Your majesty--"
"You've already called me that. My mother should have reminded you - when addressing the royal family you say that first, and 'sir' thereafter."
"Yes, sir." It was easy enough. Sadara was curious, but cautious. Best to stick to what he was expecting. "What was it you wanted to say?"
"I want to begin by saying you did a good job with those slavers up north."
"Slavers?" Sadara paused, and tensed as she thought back. "I don't recall..."
"I of course do not want such filth in my country..." Helseth paused, "Slavery is a stain I intend to erase. But be that as it may...I do not encourage murder to be used in the cleaning of that stain. We're citizens of the Empire, after all. Rules and laws - laws I can change if need be - are what enact change. Not sudden violence."
"I didn't murder anyone," she replied quickly.
"No? Then explain why, when their disappearances were discovered..." And here Helseth began to sound angrier, "Why it is that your blood was found on one of their bodies?"
"I didn't--"
"But you did." He took a moment to watch her, then added, "The only thing I require of you is to make a choice."
"What choice?"
"Confess here and now to the murder of the four slavers, or continue to lie and insist you are innocent when we both know you are not," Helseth said, "Or..."
"Or?"
He put a hand beneath his robe's collar and drew out a small box, which he set on the table and opened.
Sadara wished, not for the last time, that she'd never left Cyrodiil.
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How's it going?
terrible, jiub. I give up.
oh that good huh
No, I mean it this time. I'm tired of fighting all this shit. every time things look like they're going to be okay I get sucker punched again. This is why I don't relax.
u know being stressed like that all the time will kill u right
