Acadian: I have always liked that line about the rose petals in the bath too. I am glad you liked it.


haute ecole rider: Yep, as Willow once said "Love makes you do the wacky." The same is true for lust.


Linara: Teresa is a high schooler! Well, almost. More like a freshman. But yes, she is quite young, and quite under the influence of her hormones.


treydog: Prepositions, propositions... preparations?


D.Foxy: A long time ago you said you were worried that the Teresa 2.0 lacked the same feeling of vulnerability and wonder. I think this chapter will put those fears to rest.


Destri Melarg: Teresa is wondering what the sleeping arrangements will be as well!


Next: In our last segment Teresa finally made it to the Wawnet Inn and met Nerussa. Next, wooage ensues. This will be a long post, but I do not want to break up the momentum in the scene.

* * *

Chapter 19.2 � Dibella's Dance

Nerussa led the way back down to the common room, where she took up a chair behind the bar and invited Teresa to sit with her and share a bottle of Tamika's. The sweet wine was a pure delight on the wood elf's tongue, and she realized that it was the same that Jauffre had served her when she had been at Weynon. Had that only been three months ago? she thought. Somehow she felt years older than she had been at that time.

After just a few moments Nerussa filled a pitcher with ale and was off serving her patrons. Then she returned to sit with Teresa once more to talk, throwing the copper remans she was paid into a simple wooden box beneath the counter. From time to time the high elf would rise to serve more drinks. On occasion she would accidentally brush against Teresa when she did so, something which the Bosmer found very pleasant.

"You seem kind of out of place here," Teresa observed as Nerussa returned from one of her mug-filling expeditions. She gestured at the velvet gown the high elf wore for emphasis "I mean, you're so elegant and you have such nice things, but in this little village�"

"Oh, well I am not originally from here, and I was not always an innkeeper," Nerussa explained with a smile as she sat down beside the wood elf. "In a way you might say I am retired too, like Aelwin."

"You sure work a lot for someone who is retired!" Teresa exclaimed.

"It is just a different kind of work is all, but I really only do this because I want to," Nerussa said with a smile as faint as any of Teresa's. "When I was younger I always wanted to travel and meet people. I am not a brave warrior like you though, and to be honest, I am rather lazy. All that walking and riding around sounds exhausting. Then I realized, people from all over Tamriel come through this little village on their way to and from the Imperial City. So I bought this inn and let them come to me..."

Teresa nodded, it was never something she would have thought of, but she could see the Altmer's reasoning.

"So how do you afford everything?" she asked, "I mean, to buy this place, and your clothes, and all the rest?"

The wood elf instantly regretted her words. What if Nerussa was a member of the Thieves Guild? she suddenly wondered. She could easily be a fence, or a smuggler. With all the people passing by going to and from the Imperial City she would have the perfect location. Or maybe she earned her money in something less savory?

"I'll tell you a secret," Nerussa said, leaning closer to Teresa and lowering her voice, "well, it is not that much of a secret, most of the locals know. I do not make any money from the inn. Well, I make enough to keep it going, but not enough for anything else. I earned my fortune when I was younger, and that is what I live off of."

"What did you do?" Teresa asked.

"I was a courtesan," Nerussa smiled.

Teresa nearly spat her wine all over her dress. As it was she had to cover her mouth with one hand and fought to keep from spilling her glass with the other. First Simplicia, then Adanrel, and now Nerussa! her mind reeled. Was there anyone she knew who was not a prostitute?

"And I used to think that I was full of surprises..." Teresa muttered as she wiped the wine from her chin.

"So why did you give it up?" the forester asked once she felt composed. Now she was starting to understand why Nerussa was so good at being... attractive. "It certainly seems to have done well by you."

"Oh it did, financially at least," Nerussa agreed, "in other ways too. I was no street corner or even brothel girl. I was the escort of councilors, patricians, and equites, the elite of society. If you had to ask how much my services cost, you could not afford them."

"It sounds very glamorous," Teresa admitted, admiring the way the velvet of her gown glistened in the dancing firelight, and the delicate patterns of flowers that its lace traced out across the hourglass of her figure. She remembered how soft it had felt under her skin when Nerussa had embraced her. What might it be like to wear velvet and lace? she thought, to have gold and jewels, and dine in palaces?

"It was glamorous, at first," Nerussa said. Her eyes took on a faraway look, and Teresa wondered what she might be seeing in her mind's eye. "I was taught how to walk, to sit, to stand, all over again, even how to breathe, so that everything I did was with grace and elegance. I learned to be witty and seductive, to sing and dance, and I memorized poetry and classic literature."

"You see being a courtesan is not simply about sex," Nerussa explained, her eyes now fixing upon Teresa once more, "it is about being a living work of art. We had to be able to accompany and entertain all manner of men and women at all times and in all places. To be honest, we spent more time talking to people, singing, dancing, reciting poetry, and just making them smile and forget all of their cares, than actually rolling in the sheets with them."

"That sounds wonderful!" Teresa said, her eyes sparkling as she imagined Nerussa surrounded by finely dressed nobles in some great manor, doing all of the things she had described.

"It was, at times," Nerussa's tone lowered now, and her eyes lost their sparkle, "but as time goes by the shine fades. You see how it tarnishes you, and the harder it becomes to put on a happy face for the crowd when you feel like crying. You find that your entire life is nothing but an illusion created for other people's enjoyment, and you wonder if there is any part of you that is not a lie."

"Is that why you left?" Teresa asked, trying to imagine what that must be like. The way Nerussa spoke, it sounded like she was more a doll than a person.

"No, not exactly," Nerussa turned he head, and seemed to be weighing her words before speaking again, "I was arrogant, I thought I was the greatest courtesan in Cyrodiil, and my hubris cost me everything. You see, I made the worst mistake any courtesan can make. I fell in love."

"What happened?" Teresa leaned forward with wide eyes. It all sounded like something from a bard's tale, or one of those silly books by Casta Scribonia.

"Oh, it is the oldest story," Nerussa looked back at Teresa, her eyes dark and distant, "his wife found out. Most women know when their husbands are with a courtesan. Sometimes they are even present as well. Most of them could hardly care. The wealthy marry for power, wealth, and status, not love. It is not unusual for one or both spouses to have lovers on the side, so long as it is discreet."

"She was not like that though," Nerussa went on, "she was even more conceited than I was, if that is even possible, and far crueler. She may not have wanted any part of her husband's bed, but she would not allow any other woman in it either. So she destroyed me."

Teresa knew better than to ask who it was. Even born in the gutter, she knew that a courtesan could not reveal who her clients were. She reached out and laid her hand on one of Nerussa's knees and tried to smile. She had always imagined bad things only happened to poor people like herself and Simplicia. It never occurred to her that people living in luxury might be just as desperate and hopeless as she was on the street.

"In the end I came here," Nerussa explained, taking Teresa's hand in her own and gripping it firmly as she looked back into the wood elf's eyes. "Here I can just be myself, and I can be with whomever I choose to, whenever I choose to. I can finally live my life on my own terms."

"I am so sorry," Teresa said truthfully.

"You are a dear Teresa," Nerussa smiled, not the seductive look she had become so accustomed to seeing on the Altmer woman's features, but rather a simple, warm expression of kindness. "I don't usually tell people that last part, not that it is much of a secret mind you. But you are easy to talk to. You seem like such a lovely person inside. You bring out the best in others, like someone else I once knew, a long, long time ago."

Teresa felt her cheeks grow warm again, and then it was her turn to look away.

"You are you know, I could tell when I talked you into helping Aelwin," Nerussa said, sliding her chair closer. Teresa was keenly aware of the Altmer's finger as it gently touched her hair and traced a line down the edge of her cheek. Her hand was like a torch, leaving a trail of fire behind it as it awakened a deeper blaze within Teresa's flesh.

"At first I thought you were just a mercenary archer. But only a kind person would have helped Aelwin for nothing in return." Nerussa finished, taking her hand away from Teresa's face as lightly as she had placed it there to begin with.

"Well, he did give me this," Teresa mumbled, twisting the turquoise ring that she wore on one of the fingers of her left hand. Engraved with the likeness of dolphins leaping over waves, the light glittered from its surface as if it were made of water. "It is enchanted after all."

"But you did not know Aelwin would give you that, did you?" Nerussa pointed out, "I had no idea he even had that ring, or could pay you anything. Face it Teresa, you are a good person."

"Now I'm embarrassing you again, am I not?" Nerussa said, standing up and reaching for a pitcher and filling it from a keg of ale. "You must learn to take a compliment Teresa, because if you keep acting the way you have been, you will be receiving them for a long time!"

Then she went gliding into the common room with the ale and began filling mugs again. When she returned she paused beside Teresa and once more let her fingers fall into the wood elf's scarlet tresses.

"I have been meaning to mention since you first came in, I like how you changed your hair," she observed, "and quite an entrancing scent you have on it too, and the rest of you as well. Is that vanilla?"

"Yes, it's vanilla," she noticed! Teresa thought with a silent prayer of thanks to Dibella, even as her cheeks reddened from Nerussa's attention.

"That is a lovely outfit you are wearing as well," Nerussa went on, "Argonian by its softness. The burgundy goes so well with your hair too. You look so different from when you are in your armor, I almost did not recognize you when you walked in!"

Teresa wanted to close her eyes and just slip away into the feeling of Nerussa's fingers gently stroking her hair. She wished that time would stop, and she could spend the rest of eternity in that moment. It took an extreme effort of will, but she looked up at the Altmer woman and smiled.

"I noticed you use lavender, and is that pomegranate too?" she said.

"You are very perceptive!" Nerussa said, "most people notice the lavender, but not the pomegranate. I use it as a cream, it is very good for your skin."

"I know all about plants, that is what I do really," Teresa could not help but to smile as Nerussa's fingers continued to gently trace their way through her hair. By Dibella that felt so wonderful, she thought. "I gather alchemical ingredients and use them to brew potions."

"Oh, you are a mage?" Nerussa looked surprised and drew her hand away, much to Teresa's regret. "I thought you were a fighter? With all that armor you had on the last time, and the bow..."

"No, I'm not a mage," Teresa explained, "I just know how to make some potions is all. I'm still learning, to be honest. I'm not really a fighter either. I just carry the bow and the armor to protect myself."

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry," Nerussa apologized as she sat next her. "When I talked to you about the wine and Aelwin's slaughterfish, I thought you were, well, a mercenary. I thought you fought in battles all the time. I never would have asked you to do either if I knew..."

"That's okay, I can take care of myself," Teresa replied. A moment later she wondered at that. She never would have said such a thing three months ago, let alone believed it.

"Promise me you will not go looking for more of the Shadowbanish," Nerussa said, once more taking Teresa's hands in her own. "Wine is just wine, but I could not live with myself if something were to happen to you."

"Don't worry," Teresa said, "I can handle it. I've always been good at watching out for myself."

"Oh you have been pulling my leg I see," Nerussa leapt to her feet, fixing her hands on her hips and casting a stern eye down upon the wood elf, "pretending to be a simple potion-mixer when you really are a warrior after all."

"I'm not," Teresa tried to explain. "I'm just an ordinary person. I'm no hero."

"You know what you remind me of Teresa?" the Altmer woman declared. "I have been trying to put my finger on it all this time, and now I see. You are just like the old soldiers I knew when I was in the business. They never talked about their battles, or their honors. The only time you could ever get them to say anything about the service was when they told anecdotes about the places they were stationed or their old friends there."

"Now the young ones, all they would ever do is boast about how brave they were," she went on, "they would never stop telling you about what great warriors they were. They were so full of manure. You could tell who the veterans were pretty quickly, because they were like you. They were quiet. They did not have to brag, because their actions said everything for them."

Teresa stared at her lap, having no idea what to say, let alone do. She was saved when once again a table of fishermen called Nerussa over for more ale. Was the Altmer woman right? Was she really a veteran? She had been in more than a few fights since meeting the Emperor. In the last three months had fought assassins, goblins, undead, magicians, imps, and even Daedra.

But she hardly felt like some veteran soldier. She only felt like... herself. She was just glad to still be alive after it all. What was a veteran supposed to feel like?

Teresa was glad that when Nerussa returned it was with a smile on her face. This time the high elf did not touch her hair however. She hoped that the innkeeper did not think that she was somehow trying to deceive her. She could see just how much Nerussa valued honesty in people.

"Nerussa I..." Teresa stammered, trying to think of what to say, but the other woman waved her explanations away.

"I am sorry Teresa," Nerussa said, "I'll never know what it is like to do what you do. But I do understand if you do not want to talk about it."

The two of them sat in silence for long moments. Teresa looked away, and wondered if she had botched everything with Nerussa. The high elf was such a complicated woman, Teresa thought, so much older than herself, and so much more, well, experienced in the world. What could someone like her ever see in a simple girl from the streets like herself anyway?

Yet when she looked up into Nerussa's eyes, they seemed so earnest in the way they glowed back at her. Was that nothing but her courtesan training though? Teresa wondered. Was everything just a disguise with her?

"So there is no Lord Nerussa then?" Teresa finally asked. It had been something she had been wondering since she first set eyes upon the innkeeper. It had seemed hard to imagine Nerussa without someone before, but given her story, she wondered if the Altmer woman would ever want to be anyone else again?

"Thank Dibella no!" Nerussa snorted, "love is for poets Teresa."

Teresa's heart sank like a lump of iron in Lake Rumare. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, but the way Nerussa had said it sounded so jaded, so cynical, that she wondered if the Altmer woman would ever feel anything for anyone again, such as herself...

"Don't you get lonely?" Teresa practically squeaked as she looked down, afraid of what the answer would be.

"Not at all," Nerussa said, taking Teresa's hands in her own once again and squeezing them gently. "As I said, I can be with whomever I want, whenever I want, with no entanglements. Every day brings someone new, and sometimes they are a real treasure. If I want them, I have them."

Nerussa lifted one hand and cupped it under Teresa's chin, raising her features to meet her own. The Altmer's eyes fairly blazed, and Teresa felt her heart leap as heat spread through her body. No one had ever looked at her that way before. It made her feel nearly giddy.

"Do you ever get lonely, when you are out harvesting plants?" Nerussa's eyes continued to burn with fire.

"Sometimes," Teresa admitted, lowering her eyes for a moment. Why did she feel so bloody awkward? and worse, how was it that Nerussa's stare was able to strip her so completely bare? "I've never been with�"

Her words trailed off as she realized what she was about to say. I've never been with anyone, she thought. It was hardly the thing she wanted to say to a woman so worldly as Nerussa. By Dibella, how clumsy could she be?

She saw Nerussa lean closer to her, and then she felt the Altmer woman's soft lips upon her forehead. The wood elf breathed in the scent of lavender and pomegranates and sighed in contentment.

"Nature's first green is gold," Teresa heard Nerussa whisper softly as she stood up. Then the Altmer's hands were slapping down on the bar and her voice rang out across the common room.

"Last call!" she cried. "Drink up now, because I am too tired to put up with the lot of you ruffians anymore!"

A chorus of half-hearted yells and rude gestures erupted from the fisherfolk in the common room. The legionaries had long since retired to their rooms upstairs. Nerussa simply grinned and gestured back at them. Teresa was amazed at how she could go from being the epitome of elegance and refinement at one moment, to being as rough and crude as any street rat the next.

Teresa rose herself as the last of the other patrons shuffled out the door. More than one of them cast a leering glance in her direction, and she caught a few mutters about "Nerussa's latest..." Somehow she did not feel the slightest bit embarrassed. They could mutter all they wanted, Teresa thought, just as long as it was true...

"So, about that room..." Teresa looked to the innkeeper. Her heart raced as fast it had while staring down her arrows at the ghost in Castle Magia, and she wondered how Nerussa could seem so cool and composed. Did the Altmer really feel anything for her at all?

"Oh no!" Nerussa slapped her palm into her forehead with a look of horror. "The rooms are all booked up! Those legionaries got here before you and took them all!"

"Oh," Teresa whispered. Her heart sank like a stone. It all really had been just game on Nerussa's part after all, she thought.

"There is nothing for it then," Nerussa's voice sparkled with mischief. She stepped closer to Teresa and put her hands on the wood elf's hips, "you will just have to spend the night with me!"

"Why you! I'll get you for that!" Teresa sputtered, feeling her heart leap higher than Mount Taygetus.

She raised her eyes to meet the fiery gaze of Nerussa. Lifting her arms around the high elf, she laid one hand behind the Altmer woman's head and pulled the taller woman's face down to her own. Nerussa did not resist, and tilted her head slightly to one side as Teresa drew her closer. The scent of lavender enfolded Teresa as their lips met, and the rest of the world just slipped away...



Note: "Nature's first green is gold," is a quote from the poem Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost.

It just hit me why Nerussa's tale is soooo familiar!

It has the flavor of Memoirs of a Geisha. I read that book quite a few years ago and was fascinated by it.

One nit:
I think you lost the possessive 's there.

I truly enjoyed this the second time around. Yes, it's a mite long, but you really can't break it up into shorter segments, so it's just fine the way it is. Like others have said, when it's this well written, you don't really notice how long it actually is.

Cheers! After nineteen chapters it's finally happened! Poor Teresa, second-guessing herself at every step. A very natural chapter. I agree with Nerussa, Teresa is very humble when it comes to her skills. Very nice.

Simply beautiful, SubRosa! You really do justice to Teresa's myriad of confused hopes, fears and passions here.

WooHoo! Tamika's!

I loved how you phrased this!

See, Teresa, I suspect Raven suggested you wear a burgandy outfit.

Beautiful!

Teresa, you certainly do.

Once more, you show your brilliant skill with conversations and with giving your characters stories that sing. The fact that there are so many other things going on during this conversation is a testament to your ability. It is all real and seamless and wonderfully rich, as we find ourselves in the dim tavern, watching all the intricate patterns of all the dances that are taking place simultaneously. Nerussa keeping up with her customers; Teresa hoping (more than trying) to be interesting; and again Nerussa responding to the beauty that Teresa has always had, whether she was aware of it or not. And it is all completely immersive.





Your description of the objectification that is at the heart of Nerussa�s former profession is excellent- and I am glad that Teresa recognizes the pitfall, even if she never had any intention of following that path.

Nit?:



Without a comma, that second sentence scans as if she is still learning not to be dishonest. �I am still learning, to be honest.� Alternatively, reversing the order would serve the same function- "To be honest, I am still learning."

I wonder how the Reman Dynasty would feel knowing they were relegated to gracing the Empire's lowest unit of currency. Kind of like Lincoln I would imagine, if he could see his face on the penny (though from what I remember about him, he would probably laugh louder than anyone).

I love Nerussa�s reasoning for choosing to buy the Wawnet Inn. Impartial self-assessment followed by the most expedient of solutions. Now we find out that she is a former courtesan . . . sounds like someone perfectly suited for the business of hospitality! Her story is at once powerful, tragic, and strangely familiar. Hautee is right, it does have the flavor of Memoirs of a Geisha.

Hallelujah!! Can I get an Amen??!!

AMEN!!

haute ecole rider: Memoirs of a Geisha was one of my inspirations for Nerussa, as was rl Veronica Franco (the film Dangerous Beauty is about her). I never read Memoirs, but it was one of the first movies I bought on blu-ray when I got my hd tv and blu-ray player. That and Alexander Revisited in fact. Which shows a lot about my tastes!


Linara: You are right, it took her 19 chapters to finally score! I guess Teresa really is a late bloomer!


Acadian: I still remember my first time, and did my best to channel all that awkwardness and uncertainly into Teresa.


treydog: But Teresa is still learning to be honest!

Throwing in other things going on while I do conversations and other long scenes is something I have to really work on. I try to do it to show that while the characters may be focused on one another, there is still a whole world going by around them. Hopefully that makes the characters themselves more real.


Destri Melarg: I was originally going to use some term for the Akaviri Potentates for the copper coin. I never did come up with anything I liked, so just decided to one-up them, and make it a reman.

How about an awomen?


Next: Teresa has (finally) lost her virginity. Next, the afterglow.


* * *

Chapter 19.3 � Dibella's Dance

Nerussa woke with the sun in her eyes. That meant one thing, she had overslept. She knew that she should have been up and making breakfast for the legionaries at least an hour ago. Well, they were probably not only awake, but long gone on their mission by now, she realized. She would just have to listen to them grouse about it the next time they stopped for the night.

Teresa's arms were still around her, and thanks to decades of practice Nerussa was able to gently disengage herself without waking the wood elf. Sitting up in bed alongside the other woman, she let the silk sheet fall from her bare chest and stretched her arms above her with a silent yawn.

Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Nerussa slid from the wide bed and gracefully walked to the full-sized mirror beside her wardrobe. She looked at her naked body in the mirror. She was not the woman she was forty years ago, she thought glumly. Others might not notice it, but her eye certainly could note the tiny effects of time and gravity. But she still had a few more good centuries left before her elven body began to really show age, perhaps even longer if she continued taking good care of herself.

Closing her eyes, she focused her mind upon the symbol of her Bloom spell, an unfolding rose whose petals beaded with moisture. A moment later she raised a hand over her head and closed her fist, imagining the flower clutched within her fingers. Drawing forth the magicka within her and channeling it through the rose, she opened her fist and let the glowing white energy fall around her body.

Suddenly she felt refreshed and clean all over, as if she had just emerged from a warm bath. Her ivory teeth sparkled in the mirror as she smiled, her breath felt fresh, and her hair took on that glossy sheen that only comes after washing.

Stepping to the dressing table, she drew forth a jar of dark cream and began applying it to her skin. The smell of pomegranates filled her nostrils as she worked the lotion into her flesh, and she did not stop until every inch of her skin had been covered with the balm. Then she turned to her hair while her body dried, dipping a comb into a solution of lavender and water and running it through her golden tresses.

Turning to the bed, she saw that Teresa was still fast asleep. The wood elf lay on her side, one hand under her head and the other stretched out across the empty bed. Her red hair was spilled across her pillow, the sunlight turning it a brilliant crimson as it trailed across the silk and velvet.

She looked so peaceful and content, Nerussa thought as a feeling of warmth spread through her breast. The pale elf had seemed so very sad the first time they had met, as if she had forgotten how to smile. Then even when she did the joy never reached her eyes. What pains have you endured, that their ghosts still haunt you so? Nerussa wondered as she stared down at Teresa.

Yet there was no trace of darkness in her features now, Nerussa observed. She could not stop herself from stepping to the bed and reaching down to run her fingers through the wood elf's hair, gently drawing the errant locks from her face. Teresa's nose wrinkled as she did so, and her body shifted under the silk sheets. Yet she did not waken, leaving Nerussa to simply bask in the warmth she radiated.

Nature's first green is gold, the high elf thought, and you are golden dear Teresa, at least for now. Even in spite of the darkness that followed her steps, the wood elf still retained the glow of innocence, at least where the heart was concerned. She wore it so plainly on her sleeve, Nerussa thought, there for all to see.

Had she ever been so young, so awkward and wonderfully naive? It had been so long ago that Nerussa could hardly remember. Yet when she gazed upon the archer's sleeping form those memories did come rushing back. It was a time when the world seemed wide and filled with wonder and possibility; a place where anything could happen, where she could be anyone or anything.

Nerussa sighed. By Dibella this girl was beautiful, she thought as she stared. Not physically, her body was too wiry and hard, her hands callused from the bow, her face too angular, and her skin far too pale. But the brilliance of her spirit shone through all of that, and Nerussa pitied those who could not see it.

Nerussa walked to her wardrobe and slipped into an outfit of green velvet. Moving back to her dressing table afterward, she sat and began pulling her hair up behind her head. That is when she saw Teresa looking back at her in the mirror and nearly jumped from her seat. She had not even heard the wood elf get out of bed, let alone step across the floor.

"Teresa!" the high elf exclaimed, letting her hair drop around her shoulders and twisting around in her antique chair. "You nearly scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry," Teresa bit her lower lip for a moment as she came up behind the chair and slid her arms around Nerussa. "I guess I am used to being quiet, long years of habit."

"I forgive you," Nerussa smiled as she looked up at the willowy elf. Goddess she was so adorable when she bit her lip like that, the Altmer thought, and she probably had no clue that she was even doing it.

Then Teresa leaned her head down closer and their lips met. Her kiss was soft as the morning dew. Nerussa closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling. She felt Teresa's hands sliding across her chest and her heart began to race. The forester's kiss turned more insistent, and Nerussa was intensely aware of how warm and firm her skin was against her own. She gave herself completely over to the feeling as Teresa pulled her from the chair and back into the bed...

* * *

The noon hour had come and gone before Teresa finally took her leave of the Wawnet Inn and Nerussa. She could not stop smiling as her feet took her across the great western bridge and back to the Imperial City. The sun had never seemed so bright and warm on her skin, the birds had never sung so clearly, and the water below had never shimmered so delightfully as it did at that moment. For the first time in her life, everything seemed right with the world.

Her eyes glazed as she thought about the night and morning she had spent with Nerussa. The Altmer had sung for her, danced with her, and whispered poetry in her ear. Then there were the other things she did with her in bed. Teresa had no idea that someone could touch her the way Nerussa had. She thanked Dibella for placing those wine bottles in Castle Magia, otherwise she might have never known such pleasures.

Goddess that woman was incredible! Teresa thought. She could understand why someone would pay to be with her. It would be worth every septim, and more.

She had seen Nerussa looking at her in the morning, when the Altmer had thought she was still asleep in bed. Nerussa had not known that she was watching her in the mirror. The high elf had just stood there looking down, and her face had such a glow to it that Teresa had barely been able to remain still. It was not that fiery gaze she saw during the passion of the night before, but rather something warm and comforting, as if somehow gazing upon Teresa had sparked some memory of happiness long-buried within her.

Nerussa does like me, Teresa thought, she likes me, and that is real.

But Nerussa did not love her, Teresa knew. The Altmer had made that very clear during the morning, even though she never said so directly. Her life was one without entanglements, and if love was not an entanglement, Teresa could not imagine what was!

Did she love Nerussa? What did love feel like anyway? Teresa wondered. Yet love or not, she knew that Nerussa would always be special. When she was younger she had heard that a girl's first was always magical. Yet when she grew older she found that Adanrel never acted like her first time was anything remarkable, and Methredhel never really talked much about the men she had been with at all.

Maybe she had just been lucky to find someone like Nerussa. Or to be found by her was more like it, Teresa chuckled inwardly. It was not as if she could pick and choose lovers like someone with Adanrel's looks or Methredhel's confidence could. The three of them were all about the same age, and yet the other two had been seeing men years earlier.

"Good afternoon ma'am," the voice of a soldier pulled her from her reverie, "I hope you had a pleasant journey." Teresa looked up to see the Talos Plaza gate in front of her, and a single legionary standing beside its open doors. Even under his helmet, she recognized him as the same man who had been there the previous day, when she had left the city for Weye.

"Hi!" she beamed in response, surprising even herself with her cheer, not to mention the wave she gave the soldier. Goodness! she thought to her herself, what had Nerussa done to her?

What had the Altmer woman not done? Teresa asked herself, and could not contain a laugh. The legionary gave her a confused stare, but still smiled and nodded as she walked by him and into the Imperial City.



Note: "Nature's first green is gold" is a quote from the poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay", by Robert Frost.

Afterglow is right! They don't need to open the shutters just yet!

Good to see Teresa finally get lucky. Nineteen chapters, huh? That's not long for me, but that's just me!

I have not seen the movie Memoirs. I'm trying to remember the first DVDs I bought when I got my Mac G3 (could play movies in its Superdrive) - I think it was Toy Story and Silverado. Don't have Blu-ray, and am not inclined to go that route at the present time.

So many wonderful passages here that I cannot quote everything that sings- because the whole episode is a symphony.



I will content myself with highlighting that moment, because it speaks so clearly to the old doggie that I have become- and the young pup that I stil recall.

I had more than a faint smile during this entire beautiful episode. Magnificently done, my friend!

I heartily agree on your well-mangaged switch from Nerussa's pov to Teresa's for the latter part of the chapter. As you say, when changing pov, make it worth the reader's while. You certainly did so here. How wonderful to see both their perspectives!

Sigh. Wonderful, I can say nothing more.

haute ecole rider: I loved Memoirs. Especially in high def. It is a treat just to look at. Ziyi Zhang is just mouthwatering, and Ken Watanabe is his usual fantastic self. Even I would give it up for that man. That reminds me, I should watch Letters from Iwo Jima again, now that I have it on blu-ray as well.


treydog: Thank you dog, that was also a poignant scene for me to write as well, for the same reasons.


Acadian: Did I say that? It does sound like good advice, so I guess I will pretend I did even if I didn't!


Linara: Thank you Lin.


Next: Teresa has spent the night in the arms of Nerussa. Now she returns to the Imperial City to catch up with old friends.

* * *

Chapter 20.1 � No Going Back

5th Last Seed, 3E433

Returning to the Market District, Teresa found Simplicia working with Jensine in her shop. Both women made a fuss over how happy she looked, not to mention her new clothing. Jensine said she was practically glowing. Teresa wanted so badly to tell them why, but held her tongue with an effort of will.

Simplicia was not her real mother, but she might as well have been given how the elderly Imperial had taken care of her all of her life. How was Teresa going to tell her mother that she spent the night and all morning romping through the sheets with another woman, and a former courtesan at that? Simplicia's own terrible history in the sex trade would probably only make the news worse, rather than better, Teresa thought.

So the wood elf contained herself and made her way across the street to the Merchants Inn. There she changed back into her leathers, strapped her quiver to her hip, and slung her bow stave across her back. Then she was back on the street and heading across the city to the Waterfront.

She had to tell someone or she would burst, and Methredhel and Adanrel were just the people. It was not like she had any other real friends in the city, in spite of having lived her entire life there.

Pausing to string her bow in the tunnel from the Temple District, Teresa found herself in the Waterfront as the sun dropped over the horizon. Few people wandered the docks at this hour, the stevedores and sailors having long since headed for either their homes or the taverns and brothels deeper inland. The latter two roared with noise and light as she made her way past them through the streets, then continued on to where the cracked pavestones gave way to the simple dirt and mud of the shantytown beyond.

Teresa forced herself out of her thoughts and into the same alertness she maintained while in a ruin. She knew too well the dangers of the shantytown after having three years of living there. The Imperial Legion never went there for a reason. She drew the bow from her back and laid her free hand upon her quiver, just in case.

She received more than one hard stare as she made her way through the maze of dilapidated shacks, crude huts, and even tents. She had become used to that from the gangsters, pirates, and other thugs that haunted the Waterfront. Ever since she had taken to wearing armor and carrying her bow they had been looking at her that way, as they would another predator.

Yet what surprised her was that many of the people who were not fighters by nature were giving her that cold look. They were people whom she recognized by their faces if not their names. Some she had known for years, ever since she went to live on the Waterfront when she was fifteen.

Contrary to what everyone in the better parts of the Imperial City believed, the district was not filled to the brim with cutthroats, Teresa thought. Most people here were simply regular folk trying to get by after losing everything they had, if they ever had it to begin with. The real trick to living in the shantytown was learning to tell one from the other, and staying clear of the dangerous ones.

Teresa was still pondering the strange behavior when she came upon Methredhel's shack and knocked on the door frame. She heard the floorboards creak within, and a few moments later the thief opened the door with a dark look and let Teresa in.

"You won't believe what just happened to me!" Teresa gushed, unable to contain the news of the last night within her any longer. "I met someone, and we spent the night together! It was the most incredible-"

"Well if it isn't the respectable lady come back to spy on the lowlifes!" Adanrel's words spat like venom from across the room, cutting Teresa off in mid-sentence, "how much is your new lover paying you to turn us in?"

"What?" Teresa was too stunned by the vehemence of the blond-haired wood elf's words to fully comprehend what she was saying. "What in Oblivion are you talking about?"

"Oh, we all know about you and your new boyfriend in the Imperial Legion!" the wood elf declared as she crossed the room to confront Teresa directly. "Even the soldiers are saying it!"

"Methredhel, has she gone mad?" Teresa looked to the third Bosmer in disbelief.

"Everyone's been talking about it," the brown-haired woman spread her hands and shrugged. "From you holding hands with some legionary in their barracks, to Adanrel seeing you with him on the street the other day. It seems hard for me to believe, but what are people supposed to think?"

"Just yesterday I saw you and him holding hands outside of Rindir's Staffs, and then you were running your fingers through his hair!" Adanrel taunted. "Couldn't you have picked a better-looking boyfriend though? He looks like he fell asleep in the fire!"

Teresa felt her cheeks turn hot, but for once not with embarrassment. Her teeth clenched together and her fingers curled into fists. It took her several moments to master the rage building within her enough to form words.

"I don't have any boyfriend," she growled in a low voice. "I went to see one of the legionaries because he saved my life and Simplicia's in the Crisis. His arm was broken, his guts torn out, one of his eyes fried to Oblivion, and his face burned off! He's a damned freak now, all because of me. I went to thank him for saving my life. He was laying in so much pain that they had to fill him with enough opium to flatten a minotaur!"

"You thanked him?" Methredhel said through raised eyebrows, "he's a legionary! What in Nirn has gotten into you? Have you forgotten who they are?"

"He's a bloody person dammit!" Teresa nearly shouted back, jabbing a finger into Methredhel's chest for emphasis, "they all are! and if it wasn't for him and the others like him you would be dead!"

"And you too big-mouth, you would be dead too!" now she poked a finger into Adanrel's chest as well, with enough force to send the curvy wood elf reeling back a step, "Everyone down here would be dead, this whole place would be gone, just like at Kvatch. The Daedra would've killed you all after they were done with the rest of the city. Except the legion went out in the streets and died while you were cowering down here in your filth!"

"Listen to this guar-pie going on about her legion lovers!" Adanrel shouted back, "First you get too good for any of us here on the Waterfront, and now you start whoring for the Imperial Legion! How many of them have you spread you legs for, just the one, or everyone in the Market District?"

Teresa's sight turned red, and before she knew it her fist was crashing into Adanrel's face. The smaller, softer wood elf crashed to the floor with blood pouring from her lip and quickly pooling on the rough wooden boards of the floor. Adanrel seemed too stunned by the sight of it to do more than gasp as she desperately tried to staunch the flow with her fingers.

"Teresa!" Methredhel yelled now, stepping between them and grabbing the forester by the shoulders. "What in the blazes is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me!" Teresa screamed back in the dark-haired Bosmer's face and knocked her hands away, "I thought you were my friends, and this is how you treat me?"

"Get that legion tart out of here!" Adanrel cried from the floor, crawling to the chest against one wall of the room and pulling a rag from it to hold up against her mouth.

"One more lying word out of you and by the gods I swear I'll..." Teresa shoved past Methredhel to tower over Adanrel, one hand pulling a steel-headed arrow from the quiver at her hip.

"You'll what, kill her?" Methredhel's voice was quiet now, and somehow because of that her words sliced through the lava flow of Teresa's fury to a more rational part of her being. "Is that what you are now Teresa, a killer? What happened to you in prison?"

Teresa shook, staring down at the arrow in her hand as Adanrel screamed more invectives from the floor below. She had not even realized that she had drawn it forth. Would she really have used it?

Teresa stepped back, feeling dazed, and Methredhel once more moved between the two. The thief bent down to look at Adanrel's bloody lip and told the blond elf to shut up. That only brought forth another torrent of curses from the smaller woman, and Teresa shook her head in disgust, at them or herself even she was not certain.

"I thought you were my friends," her voice was shaking now as she looked at the two women who had been her closest compatriots for a decade. "Was I ever stupid. Simplicia was right about you all along. You were just using me."

With that Teresa turned and flung the rickety door open so hard that it threatened to fly from its hinges. She stormed out without another word, and found that people had gathered in small groups in the alley outside. They stared at her with wide eyes, pointed, and whispered among themselves. Teresa even recognized a few of them as being members of one of the local street gangs, dressed in leather and carrying maces at their hips.

"What are you looking at!" she growled, and they all scattered as she approached, even the thugs.

I kissed you in my dreams before I ever saw your face
I wrote you in my heart before I held your flesh as art,
In sparkling light I held your eyes as coals of my desire
And have spread their jewels wide to reflect of my fire -

Now I tremble. Your face, half hidden in purple shadow
haunts me in reproach of a word I cannot know:
For I wrote your words before you ever knew to speak
And now your mouth finds no truth to set me free...

Kiss me, then, I implore to the speaker of silence -
And she does with all the ardour that my mind has created,
and I know each touch, each tendril of taught texture,
steps in a dance that I created for mine own pleasure.

Your breath is as warm as the solid flesh that I caress,
Yet I know that nothing which I hold is truly real:
I hear myself in the your moans praising my strength,
I feel my greed in your gifts opened to my loins -

And even in the tidal roar of truimphant flesh
I know lost is the mystery that it should have blest,
while my blood sings with triumph of flesh untamed,
my soul weeps for the mystery which I have shamed -

For I have not only written, but breathed life unto a lie,
And from common clay made a mockery of the divine,
No Eve have I made, but a lumpen, gibbering gholem
but common clay for all that I have painted it gold:

Now weep in silence, for your work is done;
your creation wanders the world in hunger
thirsting for the humanity it no longer has,
seeking water from the desert that once was your heart.

If that's a Foxy poem I want one! Anyway back to the story...Poor Teresa, she so wanted to tell someone. I have to admit, it was a little unexpected to me. Her and Vols?! And shouldn't Methredel and Adanrel know Teresa well enough to know she wouldn't be selling herself to the Imperial Legion? Fools. Now what will Teresa do...

What a superb display of many things here!

Firstly, nice observations on the Waterfront - Teresa obviously knows it well. Then the wood elf 'party'. Oh my.
I swear it is indeed a wood elf thing. My elf was squirming throughout all of this as she could sooo identify.
Oh, SubRosa! This is better than your patented imp chips (that I have on occasion borrowed of course).
Magnificently phrased - both wording and content. Wow!
And more temper. I'd say it was the henna-died hair, but ya know, I get the same thing from my blonde.

This episode was a wonderful romp through what an unchecked rumor mill can generate. More importantly of course, it shows how much Teresa has grown/changed and some of the responsibility that comes from her gained lethality and confidence. Sigh, you can never go back. Poor Teresa just wanted to share the excitement of her night with Nerussa. Goodness, it almost seems that Vols might actually have been a more understanding ear hear than her old girl-gang.

Even though I knew what was going to happen, this was a hard episode to read. But, good writer that you are, you do not shelter your characters or your readers from the harsh realities of change. Yes, Teresa has become a killer- but not a murderer. And the sad truth is, the Waterfront is no longer her home. I will spare some sympathy for Methredhel, who played peace-maker as best she was able, and expressed doubts rather than accusations. But Adanrel, though she was never the brightest candle in the sconce, deserved the mash in the mush and a lot more besides. Good writing, like good art of any kind, makes you feel. No one ever said it always makes you feel good, though.

Chapter 19.3 � Dibella�s Dance

Add another to the long list of reasons why men should be thankful to women. Only a woman would come up with the idea for the Bloom spell. Body, hair, and teeth all sparkling clean with a single gesture. I wonder if it also cures hangovers?

Teresa�s afterglow was perfectly described, right down to the confusion that attended her realization that she had walked to the gates to Talos Plaza without her feet ever hitting the ground. I know that Teresa has the best intentions in honoring the way that Nerussa sees their relationship. But why do I get the feeling that Teresa�s heart might not be listening? Maybe it can�t hear her over that BOING sound that it is making.

Chapter 20.1 � No Going Back

I whole-heartedly agree with everything that treydog said. Like him, I can spare some sympathy for Methredhel, who after Teresa�s explanation expressed some doubt with her accusations. But it seems clear to me that this latest misunderstanding gave Adanrel the excuse to finally let her true feelings about Teresa be known. That little elf is so full of jealousy and hate that it will consume her if she is not careful. The tragedy of this chapter is that Teresa would have done anything for the two. The optimist in me can see room for Methredhel and Teresa to mend their friendship, but it is plain that Teresa�s friendship with Adanrel is at an end. I wonder will this play a role in the future?

Rosa I have to congratulate you. I've just finished reading Teresa of the faint smile and I love what you have written.

I see so many people in the game much differently now because of the work that you (and acadian I must add) have put in to lake them seem like real people.

I have laughed, smiled widely, and cried reading your story. You make the world of Tamriel sing.

Love your work, and keep it up.

Ps: please keep a certain stringy bosmer alive and well

D.Foxy: Looks like someone was reading Mary Shelly lately! Thank you for the inspiration!


Acadian: The whole time I was writing Heart of Steel I was thinking of how it would look to Adanrel's eyes. It is amazing how things can be construed to mean something entirely differently from a different point of view! You are right, Vols might have been a better ear for Teresa to share her good news with than her old pals!


treydog: This was certainly one of Teresa's lowest moments yet. Although sad to say, it only gets much worse in the future.

I loved your line about the torch in the sconce (not the scone), so much that I had to steal it!


Destri Melarg: BOING is right! You gave me a good chuckle with that. I think the hangover cure would be a separate spell, that also sobers people up at the same time. That is probably one all the Legion Battlemages have to learn!

I had not really thought about doing anything special with Adanrel after this. But now you making the wheels spin in my head. Perhaps after being bitten by a magical rat she will gain super-powers, make herself a costume, and become Rodentia Maximus! Naturally she would have to begin a reign of terror upon the Waterfront. Then Methredhel and Teresa would have to team up to stop her before it was too late.


Doommeister: Hi Doom, welcome to the TF! We don't have a wavey smiley, so here is Santa:


Next: In our last episode Teresa returned to the Waterfront to find she was no longer welcome among her old friends. Next she faces Methredhel once more.

* * *

Chapter 20.2 � No Going Back

"Teresa!" Methredhel's voice rose up behind her, "wait!"

Not more, Teresa thought as she stalked through the winding path between hovels. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her bow stave, and her limbs still shook like a leaf. By Raven she felt like she had fought a battle, a real battle! Yet this did not end with the usual rush of euphoria that survival always brought her. Instead she only felt more dark and angry with every step.

"Teresa, stop!" Methredhel's voice was closer now, coming between gasps for breath. A moment later a hand tugged at her sleeve, and Teresa wheeled to face the other woman in the street.

"What's wrong, you haven't insulted me enough?" Teresa railed.

"I'm not insulting you," Methredhel said as she caught her breath, and it was plain to Teresa that she had been running to catch up. "I'm just trying to figure out what is going on with you."

"What's going on with me?" Teresa was still shaking, and she felt her eyes welling up with tears now. "I came here to share my good news with the people I thought were my friends, the people I trusted since we were kids, and how do you treat me?"

"Adanrel was out of line. I know, I'm sorry. She's never been the brightest candle in the sconce, and you know how high strung she is." Methredhel spread her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "But you were hardly diplomatic either. You didn't have to hit her, or draw an arrow on her. You have been so strange lately."

Teresa stood silent and closed her eyes, willing the anger to flow out of her and into the mud beneath her feet. She thought about the arrow that had been in her hand, and how it had gotten there without her even thinking about it. Was she really a killer? Is that what she had become?

"I guess you're right," she sighed and looked back up into Methredhel's eyes, "I shouldn't have. But what was I supposed to feel when she was saying those things? What would you do if she were screaming that at you?"

"I dunno," Methredhel admitted. "But I know I wouldn't be chumming around with the Imperial Legion either."

Methredhel held up her hands as Teresa's fingers curled into fists once more. "I know, I know, you aren't sleeping with one of them. Adanrel may be too thick to notice, but I know you're only interested in women."

"You know that?" Teresa was dumbfounded. It was not like she had ever shared her feelings about that with the other wood elf, or anyone else really.

"Well, it's kind of obvious," Methredhel chuckled. "I mean, you won't even touch sausage, let alone eat it. It's only fish for you�"

Teresa did laugh then, as did Methredhel. With that the tension from the fight began to finally ease out of her.

"Why didn't you say something then?" Teresa asked.

"Well, I didn't think you really wanted it going around the Waterfront, and if Adanrel heard it, then half the city would know," the brown-haired Bosmer shrugged. She gently put an arm around Teresa's waist and led her through the tangle of broken-down buildings that made up the Waterfront shantytown. "C'mon, let's go sit by the water and talk."

"I know I've been different from how I was before," Teresa said as they walked, trying to make sense of what was happening. "I guess I really am a killer now. In the last few months I've killed goblins, undead, imps, Daedra, and even people. Things happened to me when I went to the prison. I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn't. I couldn't say anything to protect Martin. Then afterward I didn't think you would believe me."

"Martin?" Methredhel asked, "who's that?"

"Martin Septim," Teresa said as they broke from the last of the hovels and strode out along the shore of Lake Rumare. The water spread out before them like rippling black silk under a canopy of stars. Far in the distance across it she could see a tiny cluster of lights. That was Weye, she knew, and somewhere in there Nerussa was pouring ale for thirsty fishermen. Was the high elf thinking of her?

"What?" Methredhel exclaimed. "You mean the Emperor Martin? Saint Martin? What do you have to do with him?"

"I was there when his father - Emperor Uriel - died," Teresa said, turning to look into Methredhel's eyes. "I was standing just as close to him as we are now. He gave me the Amulet of Kings, so I could take it to the Grandmaster of the Blades, and then he could give it to Martin."

Methredhel looked stunned as Teresa told her the entire story, from waking up in the prison, to meeting the Emperor, seeing him die, her harrowing escape through the tunnels, and the following journey to Weynon Priory. She did not leave out any details, and Methredhel sat in rapt attention beside her at the water's edge, until finally Teresa was finished.

"It's all true, it really happened," Teresa said as Methredhel looked at her with wide eyes. "I know it sounds like a load of guar-dung, but it did. I wasn't able to tell anyone because I thought if the Mythic Dawn found out about the amulet they might have killed Jauffre to get it before he found Martin. Turns out that happened anyway, sort of, because they had a spy at Weynon. I only found out after I talked to Baurus again a little while ago. They had to trick them into opening the Oblivion Gate at Bruma so Julian could get a special sigil stone from it, and use that so she could get to the leader of the Mythic Dawn and get the amulet back."

"Baurus, you mean the new Grandmaster of the Blades? And Julian of Anvil, the fetching Hero of Kvatch herself? You know them?" Methredhel cried. "If it was anyone else telling me that I would say they were full of imp chips. But now at least some things are starting to make sense about the way you've been acting."

"It is our choices in life that define us, that is what the Emperor told me," Teresa said, "everything we do, or do not do, makes us what we are, makes the world what it is. Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better."

"All of my life I chose poorly," Teresa continued. "Well, no more. Emperor Uriel trusted me. He believed in me. I can still see him when I close my eyes. I won't betray that faith he had in me."

"You know who you sound like?" Methredhel cocked an eyebrow, "those priestesses of Mara who come down here every month to 'save' us all."

"Yeah, well maybe you should listen to them some time," Teresa said. "Some of them might act all high and mighty, but they are right. No one ever solved their problems in the bottom of a skooma bottle, or at a card table, or in a brothel. If you don't take responsibility for your actions first then no one else can ever help you."

"You really have changed," Methredhel said, "Adanrel was right about one thing, you've gotten respectable."

"I've gotten respect for myself," Teresa replied evenly. "I suppose that makes me the enemy now?"

"Of a lot of people, yes," Methredhel said honestly. "You know what it's like down here. You're either one of us or one of them. Now I know why you left that morning, after you came back. You really don't belong here anymore. I guess I just didn't want to see it."

"So then that's it then," Teresa sighed and stared out at the dark waves, understanding that her oldest friend in the world had slipped away forever.

"No," Methredhel said. "I don't plan to spend my entire life is this dung heap either. I just have a different way out than you."

Teresa turned back to face the other Bosmer, not sure what to think. Her heart was a swirling mass of conflicting emotions. This morning she had soared in the paradise of Nerussa's arms, this afternoon she had floated on the afterglow of her memory, and finally this evening she had lost her only friends in screaming and a bloody fist fight. How was she supposed to feel? What was next?

"The Thieves Guild accepted me a few days ago," Methredhel proclaimed with a grin. "I am now officially a Pickpocket!"

"They did!" Teresa's eyes brightened, and she clasped her hands around the other woman's with a faint smile. "That's great. I know how long and hard you've worked for this, you finally did it. How did it happen?"

"They had a contest between everyone up for membership," Methredhel continued to grin, "It was me, that Argonian kid Amusei, and some Redguard I never met. We had to steal this guy's diary. The first one to get it got in the guild. Let me tell you, that guy had some weird dreck in his house too. He was growing vampire plants in his basement!"

"What!" Teresa cried, still smiling ever so slightly as well. "Vampire plants? You didn't get bit did you?"

"Hey, I'm not the one here with the pasty white skin who never goes out in the sun!" Methredhel laughed, and her hands shot to Teresa's pockets. "Let me look at those plants you've been gathering. Do any of them have fangs?"

Teresa actually found herself giggling as she struggled to fend off Methredhel's mock pick-pocketing attempts. The two of them collapsed in a heap of laughter on the lakeshore moments later, and in those short moments all the troubles of the last hour slipped from Teresa's mind.

"We are sure some pair," the forester breathed after catching her breath. "I am now officially respectable, and you are officially disreputable!"

"Promise me something," Methredhel said as she regained her composure and looked Teresa in the eye, "no matter what happens, we'll always be friends?"

"That's a promise." Teresa did not hesitate to answer, and put her arms around the other woman and held her tight.

I was laughing, then crying, then laughing, then crying again, before finally sighing in appreciation of your skill here. Fittingly then, let me use your own wonderful words:

This passage shows the swirling turbulence found inside the brain of a young she-elf. Anger to tears at the speed of an arrow.

Ah yes, the shot heard round the world. One of the most memorable passages in all of TF.

Again, the young elven feminine brain - see how it creatively flits by obtuse association in a way that makes perfect sense?

WooHoo! The fetching hero herself!!!

This was not only cleverly done, it brought . . . wait for it. . . a giggle to the face of faint smiles!!!!

What a joy to read!

This made my day! Maybe she should be the Antagonizer, I hear the job is open!

I am so glad that you did not leave Teresa and Methredhel at odds for too long. The affection that the two elves have for each other is apparent in every sentence. You once remarked to me how you could tell that I really enjoyed writing about Cyrus. Let me return the favor, it is easy to see how much you like writing about Methredhel.

This was perfectly said!

A nit:

Teresa is so worked up that she is reversing her words.

As heartbreaking as the scene with Adanarel was, it was fate. I never liked her in the TF anyway.

Methredhel, on the other hand, is one savvy chick, and it's hard not to respect her.

I'm glad the two of them (Teresa and Methredhel) made up after Teresa punched out Adanarel (she asked for it anyway!)

One nit: It looks like Teresa was so conflicted she lost her 'r'!

If I can write a line good enough for you to steal, I can think of no higher compliment.



That is so perfectly written that I can feel it.

This is an important crossroads for Teresa, as she brings her old life and her new to- not harmony- but closure. She has changed, but so have the people she knew. We want our friends to stand still, so they will be exactly as we think we remember them, but the world does not work that way. Bless Methredhel for her persistence and her loyalty. I hope the promise is one they both can keep.

Reconciliation. We knew it was coming, at least with Methredhel.

My favorite line, for sure. I never like Adanrel either, there was something about her smugness... A nice chapter. I'm glad Teresa still has her friend.

Acadian: Thank you paladin. Hope your trip to see your father is going well!


Destri Melarg: But Oblivion does not have giant ants! Unless they are the result of foul sorcerous experiments? Perhaps Ancotar fled from Aleswell before the mob could get him, and turned his research to animals rather than invisibility?

You are right indeed, I do enjoy writing Methredhel. She is one of my favorite characters in Oblivion.


haute ecole rider: I never liked Adanrel much in the TF either! But then again, I was always writing her with this in mind.


treydog: Indeed, Teresa closing the book on her past and setting her eyes forward was what that chapter was all about. It is something she always knew from early in the TF, but something she could never really accept until now.


Linara I always liked that line too. It was actually inspired by a line from Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. When Auntie Entity says "Well, ain't we a pair, Raggedy Man." to Max at the end.


Next: Teresa has learned that she is no longer welcome at her old stomping grounds of the Waterfront. Next she turns her eyes forward, starting with a conversation with Simplicia.


* * *

Chapter 21.1 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

6th - 8th Last Seed, 3E433

"So when are you going to tell me who this man is that you are seeing?"

Teresa nearly spat her milk all over her new clothes. The white chemise and brown bodice were not the same smooth and downy soft material as her burgundy outfit, but still linen nonetheless, and far from cheap. Stalling for time, she made an effort to smooth the gentle material of her brown skirt around her legs before looking back across the table at Simplicia.

"I'm not seeing any man," she insisted. It was true too, she thought gratefully. Granted, she was seeing a woman�

"Teresa, you will always be my little cherry blossom," Simplicia said with a smile that quickly fell into a frown. "But I wasn't hit in the head like Jensine was. I know when you are hiding something. Now out with it!"

"Honest mom," Teresa felt like she was ten years old all over again, and had been caught sneaking off to run interference for Methredhel as the thief picked pockets. "I'm not seeing any man. I never have, and it's not like I would ever want to."

"Well of course you do dear," the old Imperial said in softer tone. "You've been old enough to notice men for a while now. I'm not so old that I've forgotten that! I just want you to be careful is all. A lot of men only want one thing from a girl, and they won't take 'no' for an answer. And they all lie. Believe me, they'll say whatever it takes to get in your skirt."

"It's ok mother, really." Teresa took a bite from the green pepper she was eating. Stuffed with rice and slathered with tomato slices and a tangy red sauce, it was simply delicious in her mouth.

"Just tell me you're taking silphium," Simplicia went on. "Even though you're an elf, you can still get in a family way after just once, especially if it's not with another elf."

"Silphium!" Teresa nearly choked on a spoonful of rice and pepper, and she was keenly aware of how other patrons of the Feed Bag were turning to stare. "The last thing I need is that," she said in a hushed tone. "Honest mother, I am not seeing a man."

"Well you sure as Oblivion are seeing someone!" Simplicia declared. "A girl doesn't get all Dibella'd up and disappear all night just to sell a few wine bottles."

Teresa bit her lip, and wished she had an invisibility potion with her.

"Just tell me cherry blossom," Simplicia said in a soothing tone. "You used to always tell me everything."

"It's a girl, alright?" Teresa sighed. "I'm seeing a girl. A woman really."

"Ohhh�" Simplicia's eyes widened in shock for a moment, but quickly settled back down. "I guess you don't need the silphium then! Well that's normal. Elf girls all like to play the field when they're young. Look at Queen Barenziah. From what that book about her said, she probably put her legs apart for half the girls in Skyrim when she was your age!"

"Simplicia!" Now it was Teresa's turn to be shocked. She had been expecting a lecture on Imperial morals, not a full-fledged acceptance of her sex life. Well, Teresa found herself thinking, Simplicia had been a brothel girl when she was young after all. She must still have the same open mind that she had then.

"Oh don't give me that," the elderly Imperial waved her hand for emphasis, then set it down gently on one of Teresa's. "I'm old, but I'm not dead! Like I said, I remember what it felt like to be your age. Enjoy it while you can. You're young, you should be out living life. Now tell me about this woman."

"Well, her name is Nerussa," Teresa said, feeling a smile form on her lips as she thought of the golden-haired Altmer. "She's a high elf, and she runs an inn just across the lake, right at the other end of the west bridge."

"So what's she like?" the Imperial asked, "is she attractive?"

"Oh she's beautiful," Teresa felt warmth flush through her features as she pictured the elf in her mind. One of her fingers slipped into her hair, and began twirling her crimson tresses as she stared into space. "She's tall, and has hair like spun gold. Her eyes are the same color too. She smells wonderful, and her skin is as soft as cream. And she's kind too, and thoughtful, and smart."

"My goodness, you certainly are quite taken with this Nerussa," Simplicia said. "She certainly sounds incredible. Well they say a girl's first is always Dibella incarnate. It never was for me, but I'm glad she was for you little blossom. It was your first wasn't it?"

"Simplicia!" Teresa felt herself pulled back down to Nirn once more, and stopped playing with her hair. "Yes, she was my first. It's not like that's ever been something people would want from me."

"Oh don't say that," Simplicia frowned over her milk. "You are the most beautiful girl in the world, even if I say so myself. I see how the men look at you, especially since you changed yourself and all. They're sniffing around you already no doubt."

Teresa shrugged. She had never really paid any attention. Although there had been that Redguard in the tower barracks, and that one guard at the Cheydinhal gate� "I don't really think about men," she replied. "I don't see why so many women get so excited about them."

"Well you just wait until you're a little older, and you want a family." Simplicia explained, and now Teresa did feel the lecture coming. "You'll want to find a good man then, and get married and have a baby or two. You'll see."

"But I don't want a man," Teresa made a face at the very thought of being in the same bed as one. "They're all hairy, and coarse, and smell bad, yuck! Besides, why would I want to get married anyway? I have all that I could ever want right now."

"You will feel different later Teresa." Simplicia chuckled across the table from her, as if she had just heard some secret joke. "You just wait. When you find the right man, everything will change."

"Well how do I know the right one?" Teresa asked, already knowing it would certainly be no man. Men had never caught her eye, but women on the other hand�

"For starters he will treat you right, instead of just taking you for granted," Simplicia paused to take a bite from her roast pork, then continued. "But most of all, you will love him."

"So how do I know when I love someone?" Teresa asked.

"You know how you can just look at someone and they make your blood boil with passion?" Simplicia asked. Teresa found herself nodding as she remembered Nerussa walking up the stairs in front of her. "Well, that's not it. That's just lust. Young people get their first taste of lust and always think it's true love. It never is."

"If all you ever do is roll around in the hay with someone, that is just lust," the Imperial went on. "Love comes from what you do after the rolling. A lot of people find out they don't particularly like the person they are with when that happens. Sometimes they cannot even stand them! Love comes from getting to know someone, and finding that you were never really complete until after you met them. It's like they were something important that you spent your entire life without. Sure, you will not always get along. You will argue, and some things about them might get you furious, but in the end, after all of that, you still feel the same way for them. When it's just lust, it's over when that happens, because there was nothing to your relationship than sex to begin with."

Teresa stared down at her half-eaten stuffed pepper and thought about what Simplicia had said. Did she love Nerussa? Or just lust for her? "Love is for poets Teresa," the forester heard the words of Nerussa echo in her memory. She knew right then that the Altmer was not the one for her. Not the special one. She liked Nerussa, quite a bit, but would never love her.

Teresa set down her knife and fork and reached out to take Simplicia's hands in her own. "Have I ever told you what a great mother you are?"

And have I ever told you, Rosy, what a great writer YOU are?

And I echo Fox here.

I found myself nodding along with Simplicia. All she needed to do differently was switch the male pronoun for the female and everything she said is perfect advice for Teresa (except for the silphium, natch). It doesn't matter what your sexual orientation is, love is love, and lust is lust. Two very different things. Something Simplicia obviously learned a long time ago. Some people, though, never learn that most fundamental of lessons.

Seems to me that Teresa is humble and wise enough to listen carefully to the words of someone who's been there, done that. If I'm right, then Teresa will be fine in her romantic endeavors.

Two things- first, Teresa does! Second- I love the line!

Our parents often surprise us the most when we discover that they are more open-minded than we expected.

And it is good to see that Teresa grasps Simplicia�s wisdom.

And the ending was perfect.

Nits:

�Just tell me your taking silphium,"

You want the other �you�re� there, I think.

Elf girl's all like to play the field when they're young.

No need for a possessive.

I bet that wasn�t as uncomfortable a conversation as Teresa imagined it would be. Simplicia shines again in this chapter. We should all have someone like her to set us straight on matters of the heart vs. matters of the . . . er . . . loins. And I think that Teresa is in love with Nerussa, even though she knows that the Altmer doesn�t share the feeling. I see heartbreak in Teresa�s future. Even though the lesson learned may wind up being harsh, time will forever gild the memory of it in Teresa�s mind.

D.Foxy: Nope, never!


haute ecole rider: Is anyone ever truly fine when it comes to romance, especially when they are 18?


treydog: I am glad someone liked that line. I was looking for an ES alternative to saying "all jezzied up". Thankfully Dibella volunteered to take the place of Jezebel.

Hmm, looks like my elf girls got possessive with you're apostrophe...


Destri Melarg: This little scene was one I really welcomed doing as it gave me a chance to put a spotlight on Simplicia again, and show her being a mother. A role that Teresa has been outgrowing a need for as she finds her own maturity. Yet thankfully there are a few places like this, where she still needs mommy.

As for Teresa being in love. Well, that will happen, but I am not giving anything away just yet. Although the old forum will probably gives some clues to that.


Next: A lot of world-building, not only for the next segment, but the rest of the chapter. I promise we will get to the Ayleids eventually. First however, Teresa takes another step in her transformation from street urchin to regular citizen.

* * *

Chapter 21.2 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

Teresa wove her way through the crowds along Market Way, casting an eagle eye upon the cutpurses and other urchins that lurked along the fringes of the boulevard that arced through the Market District. Normally she would not feel so paranoid. But this was no ordinary day. For today she was carrying her entire life savings in the plain cloth bag in her hands. She had looped the drawstring of the now-heavy satchel around her wrist to be extra careful, but she knew from experience how sharp the small blades used to cut purses could be, as well as the skill in which many wielded them.

Good gods this must be how normal people felt around thieves! Teresa found herself thinking. How on Nirn had she ever gone from being one to the other?

The throngs eased after she turned onto Silver Avenue and made her way along the rows of gold and silver smiths. You needed money to come down this way, the forester thought to herself, precisely why she had rarely ever done so in the past. Passing by several blocks of insulas, she finally came to a wide basilica crowned with a bronze dome long since turned green with age. The stained glass windows that lined its walls depicted a wizened figure holding up an anvil in one hand, and well-dressed figures scurried to and from its towering oak doors.

The young Bosmer paused to make sure that the laces on her light brown bodice were snug, and that it rode evenly upon her willowy frame. It was tight, but she had to admit that she liked how it made her waist seem so much more slender, her breasts larger, and especially her hips wider where the long skirt she wore flared out dramatically from underneath it. If an ordinary bodice could do this, Teresa thought, what changes might an actual corset work?

Screenshot

It was such a strange feeling after a lifetime of wearing rags. Teresa had never imagined she would ever be fussing over how she looked. She had never even imagined having clothes worth fussing over! The forester could not help but to smile faintly as she thought of Nerussa, and what the high elf might think if she could see her now.

The clanking of an Imperial Legionary marching by pulled Teresa from her reverie. She was not here to daydream about Nerussa, but rather for business. With that in mind, the forester set her shoulders and strode up the steps and through the front door of the temple.

The air within was cool and brightly illuminated by the golden sunlight slanting through the clerestory windows high overhead. The walls of the temple were decorated with frescos depicting the same bearded man in the windows. In some he held the picks or shovels of a common worker, in others the compass and drawings of an architect, and in still more the hammer and tongs of a smith. The great bronze dome she had seen outside rose over the apse at the far end of the temple, and she could see the same figure depicted there in pebble mosaic, now holding a hammer in one hand and an anvil in the other.

"Blessings of the Nine upon you goodwoman," a smooth voice came from Teresa's left. Turning, she saw a bearded man wearing a plain brown monk's cassock. The hood was thrown back, revealing his graying hair and dark black eyes. His olive features were worn and pitted with time, yet showed a gentleness all the same. "I am Father Celsus. How may the Temple of Zenithar serve thee today?"

"Umm, greetings," Teresa replied. Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she had to resist the urge to lick her lips. She had no idea why she felt so nervous. She was only planning on handing over every septim she had nearly died to gain in the last few months to a perfect stranger. How did regular people do this? she wondered.

"I'm here to deposit some money," Teresa offered when she realized that the priest was waiting patiently for her.

"Ah I see, and is this madam's first visit to our temple?" The priest motioned for Teresa to follow him as he made his way along colonnades lining either side of the long, central hall of the basilica. Teresa could see desks set up in the alcoves that lined either wall, staffed by more priests. People of all races sat before them and conversed with the priests. Yet they all had one thing in common. They wore clothing of good linen, fine velvet, or shimmering silk, and all of them had coins stacked up in front of them. There were no sack cloth beggars here!

"Yes," Teresa answered, trying not to stare at the merchants and artisans counting out their money. Now she understood why she was so nervous. It was all the money. She could not shake the nagging image of the priest suddenly whirling and fixing an accusatory finger upon her, branding her a thief and liar. Then the armed men would come and drag her away. There were always armed men in places with this much money�

With that thought the wood elf's eyes darted to the forms of the mail-clad Orisimer standing at attention along every fourth column that lined central aisle. They held spears tipped with glittering steel in their hands, and maces of brilliant mithril hung from their hips. Not one made a move toward her. In fact, they stood so still that they almost appeared to be statues. Yet Teresa could not shake the feeling of the their eyes boring a hole through the back of her head as she followed the priest by each in turn.

"Sister Honoria shall see to your needs child," the priest intoned as he ushered Teresa into one of the alcoves near the apse. Within she found another Imperial, also wearing a brown cassock. Her black hair was tied up behind her head in a simple bun, and her dark eyes were framed by crow's feet. Other than the latter, her smooth, olive skin bore few signs of age.

The priestess rose from across her rosewood desk. Putting her hands together in prayer, she nodded her head to Teresa. "Welcome to Resolution of Zenithar," she intoned. Then she sat once more and motioned for Teresa to do likewise in one of the chairs before the desk. The forester nodded back and slid onto a padded seat. "And how may we be of service today goodwoman�?"

"Teresa," the forester replied, realizing that she had yet to introduce herself. "I'm here to deposit some money. Um, I've never been here before." With that she lifted her sack and set it down upon the desk. It made a satisfying thump as the heavy coins settled upon the wooden surface.

"So this will be your first time reserving currency with our depository." It was more of a statement than a question. As Teresa sat and tried not to fidget, the priestess went on to explain that after her money was deposited, she could withdraw it from any temple of Zenithar in Tamriel. Although she did caution that that would take several weeks until that was possible in other cities, and at least a month in other provinces.

The thought of being able to withdraw the money somewhere else had never occurred to Teresa. She had just wanted someplace safe to keep it. Life was so strange. Just a few months ago she had never touched a gold coin. Now she had so many that she could not carry them all around with her! Yet she knew all of it could vanish with just one picked pocket or sticky-fingered chambermaid. Teresa was not going to let what she had worked so hard to gain slip through her fingers that easily. Hence her visit to the Temple.

Now that she did think on the priestess' words, she could see how being able to draw upon ones account in another city would be helpful. It meant that merchants would not have to lug around chests full of gold and silver everywhere they went. She could even sell loot she had won in another city and deposit the money there. Saving her from having to carry it all back to the Imperial City. Such a brilliant idea!

The priestess wrote out a pair of small forms which Teresa not only had to sign, but also supply a lock of hair for. The latter the priestess snipped from the wood elf's head with a small pair of scissors. As Teresa watched, the priestess said a prayer to Zenithar over the documents. Laying one hand upon the parchments, she raised the other over her head with a clenched fist in the classic spellcasting pose. Opening her fingers, a purple star burst from her palm and swept down her arm, finally dropping into the papers. The parchments glowed as the magic ground into them. Then a moment later the light faded, and they were just ordinary documents once more. Yet now Teresa noted that her hairs had vanished.

"This will be duplicated, and sent to each of our chapels," the Imperial explained, putting one of the parchments aside, but handing the other to Teresa. "This one is yours. It is your account slip. Bring this with you in all of your future visits, and it will facilitate things enormously."

Teresa took the small piece of parchment in her hands and stared down upon it. There was not much to it. Just her name, race, age, and a place of residence - in this case Jensine's shop as she had no regular home - and some text about it being a proof of her account at the temple. "What if I lose it, or something happens to it?" Teresa asked, looking up from the small document.

"We will still be able to verify your account," the priestess explained. "One of our clerics will just need another sample of your hair to confirm your identity. This is how we insure that only you may withdraw your funds. You wouldn't want some smooth-talking imposter to walk in and take all of your hard-earned money after all!"

Teresa smiled faintly at that. She had no idea the temple went to such extremes. Now that was well worth the hair! she thought. It also made her wonder how many people had tried such schemes in the past? It sounded like just the kind of thing Methredhel might do.

At the direction of the priestess, Teresa then emptied out her bag of coins, trying to keep the gold and silver from spilling across the Imperial's neat and tidy desk. The coins shone brightly in the sunlight, and Teresa could not stop herself from catching her breath at the pile of currency.

The priestess on the other hand, was unfazed, and Teresa imagined that she must deal with far larger piles of gold on a regular basis. The Imperial counted it all out in front of her, and when she was finally done she went to work creating more documents, these to show the amount of her funds. Afterward she once more gave one to Teresa so that she might use it to keep track of her transactions, and placed the other with the first document.

Two hundred and three septims, Teresa thought as she stared down at the slip of parchment, or over two thousand drakes. All from the plunder of three ruins. If she kept this up she would not even have to get the eight remaining Ancestors to buy Simplicia her country house. She just had to pick the right places, and perhaps by the Old Life Festival at the end of year she could make the old woman's dream come true at last!

So that's what we need to do with all that money!

It always seemed incongruous in the game that we can't stash that gold somewhere safe, and equally ludicrous that no one ever pickpockets your purse, no matter how large it gets!

Loved the touch with the hair. DNA typing, ES style! (BTW, that's now required to register Morgan horses, and I'm sure many other horse breeds as well)

Noticed a couple of typos:
It's Zenithar.

Did you mean outer provinces?

Seems you're missing a pronoun here - over her head. Or perhaps you meant overhead?

It seems that your knowledge of the Tamrielic pantheon has improved. Making Zenithar�s Temple the gold depository is wonderfully appropriate. I especially loved the touch of the priests and priestesses saying a prayer over the money. That doesn�t sound like the actions of the clergy at all!

I imagine that the lock of hair came into play after some old greybeard dismissed the idea of using a vial of the depositor�s blood. Given the liberal use of magic throughout the Empire, the use of a few strands of hair is pretty benign compared to what might have been used.

And now Teresa finds herself amongst the moneyed gentry. She should bring Methredhel with her on her next visit!

A nit:

I got to read two stories!

I.
No worries Teresa. I feel exactly the same way!

Oh, you make us love Simpicia! Bravo, SubRosa!


II.

Teresa looks lovely in her outfit! Thanks for the screenie. That blouse looks great on her!

I love your banking with biometrics! How wonderfully magical! Clever indeed!

So that's where all the rich people keep their money! No wonder we couldn't find it in their pockets... Teresa is looking pretty fine with her new shirt and hair. This chapter has been a nice reminder of why this is one of my favorites, the viewpoint of a common adventurer after the Oblivion Crisis. Not that Teresa is your average adventurer. I liked it a lot!

The way you bring the city to life is always a joy to read. Case in point is the entire �banking industry� based on Zenithar. Which makes perfect sense, now that you have created it. Even more enjoyable are Teresa�s reactions and thoughts to this entirely new circumstance- and best of all is her reason for earning the money in the first place.

haute ecole rider: I understand that in Daggerfall money actually had weight, so you had to put it in banks (whoever would have imagined that gold could be heavy!). IRL the banking industry started in temples, so it was a natural fit for the TF.


Destri Melarg: I thought about doing the blood thing, but I imagine that a lot of customers would be squeamish about being hacked up. Funny thing about irl banking in temples is that in many religions charging interest was forbidden. That made the churches a popular alternative to individual usurers.

Methredhel is probably the reason they have to do the dna typing with the hair samples!


Acadian: I thought you might feel that way about men!


Linara: You can say it, Teresa is your average adventurer. Except of course for the spirit guide, Emperor stuff, being a self-taught alchemist, being friends with a wolf, learning spells as a child... Okay, she's not your average anything!


treydog: I am glad the last segment was interesting, rather than boring. I would have simply glossed over the entire thing with just a few sentences, except I wanted to use the opportunity to both build the setting, and also dwell some on the effects of Teresa moving up the economic ladder from street urchin.


Next: With her money safely ensconced in the coffers of Zenithar, Teresa pays a visit to the Arcane University.

* * *

Chapter 21.3 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

Teresa strode across the small bridge separating the Imperial City from the Arcane University. In all of her life, she had never imagined herself going there. Then again, ever since Uriel Septim came and went through her life, she had done so many things she never dreamed possible. Thinking of the Emperor made her bite her lip. She could still see him in her memory, standing in the guttering torchlight in the ancient passageways beneath the Imperial Prison. If only she could have stopped his assassin before it was too late�

Teresa sighed. What was it Jauffre had said to her? "Could have, would have, should have... Play that game with yourself and it will drive you mad." Yet now Jauffre was dead too, along with Martin, and so many others.

Teresa shook her head. Why the dark mood, she wondered, life was going well for once, and it looked like it would only get better. She should not be brooding over the past, but looking to the future. That was what the Emperor would have wanted after all.

With that thought she straightened up and forced a faint smile to her lips. She followed the crowd to the open metal gates of the school. To either side of the wide entry stood soldiers. Not ordinary legionaries however. Rather these men - and Teresa noted women as well - wore mail of glittering mithril and carried staves in their hands. Battlemages, the forester knew, for she had seen them before at Bruma.

No one paid her any mind as she walked through the gateway and onto the school grounds. She did not know if it was because she was dressed like an ordinary person, or if it was simply the sheer volume of traffic going to and from the university. For even though there were no horses or carts, the street was filled with people, and most of them even younger than herself.

Teresa found herself standing within a small city of stone buildings. Insulas lined the high wall that circled the school, rising three stories up, nearly as high as the parapets surrounding them. Within the stone ring they created was a jumble of basilicas and other buildings. Some even reminded her of the country villas that the wealthy possessed outside of the Imperial City, along the road to Sideways.

Directly before her - in the very center of the sprawling community - rose a tall spire. It reminded her of White Gold Tower, except that it was nowhere near as high. Even still, Teresa thought, it must have stretched hundreds of feet into the blue sky. Simply amazing.

That must be the Arch-Mage's tower, Teresa thought. What else could it be? She found that most of the crowd was heading that way and went along with the flow of traffic. It seemed as good a place to start as any, seeing that she had no clue where to begin.

Looking at her fellow pedestrians, she saw that many wore robes of varying colors. Those younger than her, some only children, wore green garb that looked so bland and shapeless that they might as well be sacks with holes cut in them for arms, legs, and head! Some of the adults wore the same green, but most were clad in the typical blue mage robes that she was accustomed to seeing around the city. Here and there she saw a few in other colors, such as one silver-haired Imperial in gleaming white, and a few elves wearing robes of nearly glowing aquamarine silk.

Following the herd of magicians into the tower, Teresa found herself within a huge, circular chamber. The floor was of polished marble, and the high, domed ceiling seemed to float in the air with no support. A pebble mosaic depicting a high elf wearing robes and carrying a staff stretched across the surface of the dome, and Teresa wondered who that might be.

Kiosks had been set up all along the walls of the massive room, and were filled with mages in robes of many colors. Each had signs overhead reading things such as Beginner Mysticism, Understanding Enchanting, Alchemy for Learners, and many, many more. Standing before all of them were long queues of people. Many were only youths, and Teresa imagined that the older folk who tended to cluster around them were their parents. Many of the young ones were clad in the ugly green robes, while their parents wore ordinary clothing as Teresa did.

It seemed to be some kind of enrollment. Was this how they decided what classes people took? But that was not what she was looking for. Teresa wondered where she should go next, and found her eyes drawn back to the dome high above and the golden-skinned Altmer depicted upon it.

"Your first time in the Arch-Mage's Tower?" the voice of a man came from behind her. "That is Vanus Galerion, the founder of the Mages Guild and Arcane University. Everyone stares their first time in here."

Teresa turned to see an Imperial wearing a plain blue mage's robe. His dark hair was just beginning to show grey at his temples, and a smattering of crow's feet lurked at the corners of his dark eyes. Otherwise he seemed to be in his prime, and as the forester looked him over, she could not help but feel that there was something familiar about him.

"Yes," she answered truthfully. She tried to put her finger on just what it was about him that tickled her intuition. Yet nothing sprang to mind. "I was hoping to learn a bit about late Ayleid history."

"A scholar then, excellent," the Imperial smiled. He placed an gentle hand on the small of Teresa's back and lead her across the great hall to one of the kiosks. Teresa looked above the booth to see a sign reading Early Arcane History. "So many of our students these days are only interested in blowing things up or summoning monsters. It is refreshing to meet someone for whom knowledge itself is the goal. I take it you have already passed the entrance examination and gone through the initial orientation?"

Teresa imagined it would not be a good idea to explain that she only wanted to learn about history to have a better idea of where to look for loot. That is when it struck her that the Imperial thought she was a student!

"Oh no," she breathed. "I'm not in the University. I just wanted to find someone I could talk to about Ayleid history. Someone who could tell me the right books to read. There are so many, and I don't even know where to really start."

"Ahh, I see," the Imperial nodded. "My apologies, I mistook you for one of our apprentices. I was sure I had seen you before. One does not meet too many elves with features like yours."

Teresa bit her lip and found herself staring at her feet. He meant her pale skin of course. People always said she looked like a ghost, or a corpse. For not the first time, she wished she had been born like everyone else.

"What you need is a tutor then. We have many current and former students who provide such assistance. For a nominal fee of course." The Imperial led her back to the entrance of the great tower, where the walls curved away from the double-doors leading outside. There a large board made of cork hung to one side, filled to the brim with parchments pinned to its surface. "I know just the person - Herminia Cinna. She was one of our best students, and still gives guest lectures here on Ayleid history."

Scanning the sea of papers, the magician took one down and stepped to a small table nearby where blank sheets of parchment were neatly stacked. Picking up one of the pages, he placed the hand bill atop it. Then he set one hand on top of them, and a yellow glow sprouted from his fingers and dripped over the papers. It faded a moment later, and the magician handed Teresa what had been the blank page, now covered with writing. Teresa stared with wide eyes as she realized it was an exact duplicate of the first.

"A very handy spell when making quizzes," the Imperial chuckled, "not to mention printing books. This has Herminia's address and the hours you can visit to set up your study schedule with her."

Teresa stared up from the broadsheet that advertised the tutor's services, and into the Imperial's dark eyes. Just like that she knew who he was.

"Raminus Polus!" she exclaimed. "I mean, Lord Polus. That's who you are!"

"Guilty as charged your honor!" the magician laughed, his eyes dancing with light. Then his stare turned more intent, and his brows huddled together in concentration. "Wait a moment. You are the girl from the Arena, aren't you? When was that, ten years ago? But you were just a child then."

"Yes!" Teresa found herself bubbling. "It's me, Teresa. You taught me my first spells. I can't believe I am actually meeting you again! But your fianc� did say you were a sage here."

"Headmaster these days," the Imperial practically glowed. "At least until they find out what a slacker I am! But it looks like I am not the only one who has done well for themselves. Look at you, all grown up into a scholar! I always hoped you would do well. For someone your age, you learned that Flare and Heal Minor Wounds spell very easily. Most adults have trouble learning just one spell in a day, and you managed both in a single afternoon!"

"Umm, thank you." Teresa stared down at her shoes, feeling a familiar warmth spread through her cheeks. Then she forced herself to raise her eyes and look back at the headmaster. "I mean for the spells. They saved my life, more than once. They were worth more than any amount of gold ever could have been."

"I had hoped so," the Imperial nodded, a look of satisfaction crossing his features. "I have always loved teaching. It is good to know that what I taught made a difference in someone's life."

"Headmaster Polus!" came the booming voice of a silver-haired Imperial, and Teresa realized he was the same one she had seen outside. He was wearing a white robe made of silk and decorated with silver buttons, and strode across the wide chamber toward the pair. "I must protest, this is an outrage!"

"Irlav again," Raminus grumbled under his breath as he glanced at the oncoming magician, and then looked back to Teresa "You will have to excuse me, the champion of Imperial pig-headedness has arrived."

Teresa stifled a faint smile as the headmaster stepped away from her and greeted the older man warmly. Even she could tell his smile was forced however. As the pair walked off, Teresa was able to hear the silver-haired mage complaining about Khajiit and Argonians, but missed the rest. She shook her head as she walked away. Some things never seemed to change, no matter where you went.

That last sentence is so true!

And we meet Raminus Polus again! How wonderful to see him like this!

So Teresa walked into Enrollment Day at the University. Ah, takes me back to my college freshman orientation!

OOps, I forgot to mention something. In the past I think I said that Ellen Page would be perfect to play Methredhel in the TF movie, and of course Ray Stevenson as Vols. I think I finally found the actress to play Teresa. The other night I was watching Speak and Kristen Stewart seemed perfect. Funny thing is I saw her just a week ago in The Runaways, where she played Joan Jett. I understand she is in the Twilight movies too, but then again, so is every actress under 25...

In any case, in Speak she was Teresa to a tee. Quiet, never smiling, biting her lip, fighting to overcome her own fears and insecurities. She even had red hair and green eyes. The only thing missing was the pale skin.

A pic
Trying to smile
Biting her lip
Bloodied and bruised, but triumphant

Oh no, Kristen Stewart! I mean, umm, anyway, the story. I liked it. For some reason I forgot about the Arena incident until Teresa said his name, and I then I remembered it. One of my favorite flashbacks, and you write Raminus Polus really well. I've always been annoyed with him because he uses my characters to kill necromancers at every opportunity, but this is a nice, different portrayal. And now Teresa is a history student!

The return of Buffy�s �green bags�! Better yet, the return of Raminus Polus, complete with a very handy spell. I wonder if the command word is �xerographica�? It is good that he remembers the stringy elf- Teresa has had more of an impact than she knows. And a cameo of the bigoted Irlav Jarol, too.

Your depiction of the Arcane makes me feel a little nostalgic (but only a little) for my own university days. I applaud Teresa for deciding to do some research before she plunges headlong into more ruins. Might I also recommend some silvered or magical arrows?

WooHoo! I was smiling (more than a faint one ) this whole episode. It was like homecoming for Buffy and Acadian! Back at the University, and guided by someone who sees the place reasonably similar to my vision.

I thank you for the green bag tribute. Oh, and Raminus was perfect - I loved how you presented him is a good light. I like him a lot.

I'm so pleased that Teresa has decided to do some 'book learnin' afore she continues seeking those Ayleid statues. Buffy will attest to its value, as it has helped her so much, especially in her study of Daedra Lords/Shrines. I can't wait to meet her tutor.

This was just such fun!

Nit: I'm sure you want an 'or' instead of the 'of' you have now.

haute ecole rider: It is always fun writing Raminus, he was always one of my favorite npcs in the game. Being able to finally portray him in his natural environment (i.e. the school) was a real treat for me.


Linara: But killing necromancers is fun! Okay, I have a strange idea of fun...


treydog: I have been wanting to show that copy spell for a long time. I came up with the idea a long, long time ago. It is one of those consumer-driven spells that in reality would dominate the practice of magic.

Irlav was a nod to Cardboard Box's Ra'jirra story. He so firmly etched Irlav Jarol in my mind as a stuffy, self-important bigot that it is hard for me to imagine him otherwise anymore.


Acadian: I knew you would like the green bags! Ever since Buffy pronounced them so, I have not been able to look at them and think of anything else. The book learning is finally coming too, starting with this segment.


Next: Having visited the Arcane University, Teresa now goes to meet her new tutor. Note- The rest of the chapter will be heavy on world-building. The history that will be portrayed will not be the same as what you are used to seeing in the ES lorebooks.


* * *

Chapter 21.4 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

Teresa knocked on the wooden door before her. It was of plain elm, a tree she had often seen in her journeys on the City Isle. It opened a few moments later, revealing a simply dressed Imperial with a bald pate and curly grey beard.

"Whatever you're selling, we don't want any," the old man grumbled, and made to shut the door.

"I'm here to hire Herminia Cinna!" Teresa quickly blurted out, reflexively putting out a hand on the face of the door. With her other hand she held up the parchment advertising the tutor's services. "The landlord said this was the apartment."

The old man stared back at Teresa. If he was a cow, she would have sworn he was chewing his cud. "'Nother mage?" he muttered. "Alright then, c'mon in. You just make sure that nothing makes its way into that bag you're carrying."

Teresa stepped in at the man's gruff invitation. Within she found little worth stealing. Like the rest of the insula, the apartment was plainly appointed, with worn furniture, tarnished metal lamps, and a few plants in painted clay pots. An open doorway led off to what Teresa imagined must be the kitchen, given the cold box and cupboards she glimpsed within. A short hallway yawned beside it, and it was to this that the old man walked.

"It's another one for you 'Minia," he called out. "Must be thick as a post too, since the classes ain't even started up yet."

Teresa did her best to ignore the old man's gruff speech. Somehow she had the feeling it was not aimed at her in particular. Rather she had the impression he was that way toward everyone who walked through the door.

An Imperial woman appeared in the hall a few moments later. She wore an ordinary linen skirt and bodice much like Teresa's own. Her raven tresses were tied behind her head with a red cord, but a few stray locks spilled errantly across one side of her smooth, olive features. Her dark eyes were small, but kind, and shone above high-cheekbones and narrow lips. She was not what most would call beautiful, but was far from unattractive either.

"Greetings stranger," the woman said, and Teresa could not help but to notice that she was staring at her. "I am Herminia. Please ignore my grandfather, he does not approve of anyone, or anything for that matter."

"And well I should not!" the surly old man declared. He pushed by Teresa and flopped himself down into a chair. "No Emperor, and the noble idiots on the Elder Council have their heads up their collective rumps as usual. One fart and they'd all choke, and we can't even get them to serve cabbage at the palace�" He lifted a thin drake novel in his hands and began to read, pointedly ignoring the pair.

"Um, my name is Teresa." The forester looked at Herminia. "Lord Polus said you might be able to help me learn more about the Ayleids."

"Indeed I can, that is my specialty after all!" Now the woman gestured for Teresa to follow, and led her down the short hall to one of the rooms that branched from it. Within she found a simple chamber. To one side was a plain rattan bed, a dressing table, and chest of drawers. To the other was a writing desk and a bookcase stuffed with volumes. More books and scrolls were piled up around the room, and the Imperial was obliged to sweep up one such stack from a chair before offering the seat to Teresa.

"I must admit I am little surprised to be seeing someone," Herminia said as she sat in the room's only other chair. "The Summer classes ended a week ago, and First-Year sign-ups only began yesterday for the Fall courses. Usually this is my free time."

"Well, I'm not a student at the University," Teresa explained. "I just want to learn more about the Ayleids is all. Especially about the later Ayleid period."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the Imperial said. "Most of my clients are students having trouble passing the required history studies. I rarely meet someone who wants to learn more just for its own sake! But then again, when I first set eyes upon you, I almost thought you might be one of the star elves yourself!"

"The star elves?" Teresa asked through beetling eyebrows, "what are they?"

"Well the Ayleids of course," the other woman explained. "Or to be proper and use the term they did - Arimer. Aris being the Old Aldmeris word for 'star', and of course mer meaning 'people'. The word 'Ayleid' only came about during the Alessian Revolution. It is an amalgam of the Old Aldmeris word ayrel - which is used for those elves who departed Summerset in the Mythic Age - and the ancient Nordic word leidr, - which means 'hateful'. It was a word only used by humans, and never by the elves."

Teresa blinked. Raminus Polus had been right, this was clearly the person to talk to about the Ayleids - the Arimer - she mentally corrected herself.

"I never knew any of that," Teresa admitted. "Why do I look like them?"

"Well, that pale skin of course," Herminia declared. Rising to her feet, she stepped past Teresa and rummaged in the bookshelf for a few moments. Drawing one down, she leafed through its pages and finally handed it to Teresa. Looking within, the forester saw a page rendered in brilliant color, showing a regally dressed elven woman sitting upon a throne. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and her eyes green as jade. To either side of her stood elven courtiers with the same wan skin. Standing behind her was a plainly dressed human girl, with long dark hair and a downcast face.

"That is Queen Tenyeminwe, the last ruler of Lipsand Tarn, and one of the greatest magicians of the Arimer," Herminia said, pointing at the seated woman. Then her finger moved to the human behind the Queen. "And that is Alessia herself. She was Tenyeminwe's handmaiden, and unknown to the Queen, she taught herself magic by observing her mistress."

"Oh my." Teresa stared at the page with rapt attention. She could not help but to notice the similarity between herself and the elves depicted within. Did that mean anything? she wondered, or was it just mere chance? It was not like she was the only person in the world with pale skin after all. The Nords were all light-toned, and the Bretons at least fair-skinned. Just because these Ayleids - or Arimer - were white as cream, it did not mean she was one of them after all, did it?

"It's nothing strange really," Herminia lifted the book from Teresa's hands and placed it back on the shelf. "Many Arimer refugees fled to Valenwood to escape the rising Cyrods. They integrated into Bosmer culture, and simply faded into history. One of your ancestors might have been one, way back in the First Age."

Teresa stared down at the pale skin of her hands. Yes, it must be a simple as that, she thought. What other explanation could there be? It was not like there were any of the Ayleids left in the world after all, were there? Her mother could not have been one. Nor could she be. That was all there was to it.

"I suppose I am getting ahead of myself," the Imperial woman stepped past Teresa once more and sat again. "My fee is five drakes per hour. I am sorry to sound so blunt, but I have to pay the rent after all."

"Oh of course," Teresa blinked from her reverie. Reaching into her purse, she took out a gold piece and handed it to the other woman. "Here's a septim, that should be a good start."

"Ah, indeed it is," the Imperial said as she made the coin disappear into her own clothing. "You just bought yourself two hours of the finest historical advice this side of the First Age."

"Oh, and I brought you something I thought a scholar on the Ayl- I mean Arimer - might like." Teresa opened the small bag at her hip - the same she had used to carry the Shadowbanish wine to Nerussa, and her earnings to the Temple of Zenithar - and produced a glowing welkynd stone. "I found this in Nagastani."

Herminia's eyes nearly glowed as brightly as the magical crystal as she took it in her hands. "Oh my goodness!" she breathed in obvious joy, her face bathed in its soft glow. "This is simply magnificent! I haven't seen one of these since I was a student. I can feel the Power within it."

She gently set the gem with its metal base down astride the writing desk. "Now I shall have starlight even during the day," she said, staring at the ancient crystal, then turning back to Teresa. "I do not know how to thank you. Some of my clients have brought me an apple before, one even proposed marriage! But no one has ever given me something like this, so completely out of the blue. However did you acquire it?"

"Like I said, I found it in Nagastani," Teresa shrugged, keenly aware of how the other woman was beaming at her. "It was one of half-a-dozen I found in the lower chambers of the palace. I was going to keep it, but it's just too big to hang from my belt and walk around with, and no use if its stuffed in my pack."

"So you're an explorer then," Herminia observed. "I do not believe I have ever had a student who was. How very exciting! What makes you so interested in Ayleid history? See, there I said Ayleid too, everyone does."

Teresa smiled faintly as the other woman winked at her. "Well, just wandering around the countryside hoping I will blunder into a ruin does not sound like a very good idea," she said. "Besides knowing who they were seems as important as what they left behind." Should she tell Herminia the full reason? Probably better not to, Teresa reasoned. If Herminia knew that she was being paid a hundred septims for every Ancestor she brought back, the scholar would probably want a lot more than five drakes an hour for her services!

"Well that is very thoughtful of you Teresa," the Imperial woman rose once more and stepped to the door. "Most of the people who come to me only want to pass their exams! They could really care less about history. Now give me a moment and I will bring us some tea and then we can begin."

The Imperial vanished from the room, and Teresa stared at the books all around her. She imagined that there must have been hundreds of them all crammed into the little room. Such a contrast to the few that she owned herself. It made her keenly aware of how little she knew of the world, in spite of living in it for eighteen years. Teresa imagined that Herminia must think she was an ignorant thug, good for nothing but killing.

Yet if the Imperial did think less of Teresa, she certainly did not show it as she returned with a simple iron tea pot and a pair of ceramic cups. Pouring out a serving for each, she handed one cup of the dark liquid to the forester, and sat back in her chair with the other cradled in her lap.

Gods....

What a teacher that woman is! As one who also gives lectures from time to time, I can really appreciate her.

This was wonderful!

I see you may be headed somewhere with Teresa's physical similarities to the Ayl- er, I mean Arimer! I have long suspected there was more to her fascination even than gathering statues for Simplica's future home.

I was pleased to see Red control her temper at the surly welcome from the old man. I believe she wisely assessed him properly by not taking it personally.

I fully expect Teresa does not appear at all as a thug to Herminia. As she says, 'tis rare indeed to see a pupil there for knowledge only. And what an appropriately thoughtful gift to an Ayleid Arimer scholar!

Since Teresa does not have access to the wonderful Tar-Meena and the Mystic Archives of the University, it is so wonderful that she has such a knowledgeable tutor. I like Herminia and hope she and Teresa can become friends. I imagine Herminia would love to be kept abreast of Teresa's Ruin crawling expeditions. How exciting!

I found this a particularly effective 'progressive' description, as it led Teresa and the reader through the apartment.

Nit? Aside from being a terrifically clever passage and conjuring images of Ocato being assassinated by a cabbage fart, I believe you want a 'as' in between the bolded rumps & usual.

I always love your world-building chapters - they are wonderful stuff and really bring Tamriel alive for me.

I always found Herminia Cinna an unsatisfactory character in the game. By that, I mean there should be more in the PC's interactions with her, even the potential to learn something about Ayleid - I mean Arimer - history from her.

I agree with Acadian that it was wise of Teresa to not take the old man's gruffness personally. So many young people these days (and plenty of older ones, too) tend to take too much to heart, instead of shrugging it off. Oh well. It makes Teresa even more likable in my book.

Chapter 21.3 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

It seems you have a warm spot in your heart for Raminus Polus (wow, does that sound dirty?! ). Even though it was a while ago, the first mention of him brought back the memory of their first meeting in the Arena all those years ago. I wonder if this foreshadows a meeting with another whose path Teresa crossed that day?

I have nothing more to add to what everyone else already said. I just wish that Teresa and Raminus could have spoken more, but that idiot Jarol showed up!

Chapter 21.4 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

In the space of a single paragraph you prove that the decision to hire Herminia was wise indeed. You know how I feel about any history lesson! This one was simply great. I am going to have to remember all of this if I ever get around to writing about the Alessian Revolt.

How exactly did Tenyeminwe go from ordering her handmaiden Alessia around to hanging out in a corner of Dirty Muriel�s in Sadrith Mora?

D.Foxy: You might change your opinion when you find out how, well, opinionated she is!


Acadetor: Would I make something of Teresa's pale skin? Just because all the Ayl-, erm Arimer she has seen in her visions look the same, and they are portrayed that way in old books...

I am sure Teresa does not appear to be an ignorant thug to Herminia as well. But you know young shelfs, they have habit of not appreciating their true worth.

And you straightened out the Elder Council's rumps, as usual.


haute ecole rider: I was always disappointed that you could not do more with Herminia too. She is featured in the end of the Collector quest, but otherwise she is just there. I always wanted to do something with her in the TF 1.0. That is why I did not pass up the opportunity to finally put her in the story.


Destri Melarg (returns): I do have a warm spot for Raminus. He was always nice to me, and gave me promotions and magical trinkets. For me it is not in a dirty sense, but for my first magician character Saya, it definitely was! She went through the entire game scowling at every npc around her, except Raminus. She always had these huge smiles whenever he walked near.

Let me guess, that single paragraph that Herminia distinguished herself was when she said she was going to get tea?

Perhaps the rest of the chapter will reveal how Tenyeminwe ended up in Morrowind. Or I could just fess up and admit that I take many of my character names from the previous ES games.


Next: The history lesson gets in full swing, and Teresa is surprised to learn that the history she learned as a child was not exactly accurate.

* * *

Chapter 21.5 � The Last King Of The Ayleids

"Now where shall we start?" Herminia mused aloud. "How much do you already know about Arimer history?"

"Well, not much really," Teresa frowned, staring down at her tea cup. "I know all the bard's tales of course. How Alessia started the revolution, how Kynareth sent Morihaus to help her, and how Pelinal Whitestrake killed the Ayleid high king. A few days ago I tried to read a book called Glories and Laments, but I just could not get through it."

"You poor woman, you actually tried to read that garbage?" the Imperial exclaimed with wide eyes, then reached for a piece of parchment and began scribbling upon it. "To call it tripe would be an insult to stomach lining! Here, let me make you a list of decent books to read, starting with my own of course. "

"You wrote a book?" Teresa stifled a faint smile, and suddenly did not feel so bad about the her struggles to read the book a few days earlier. "I'm sorry, I did not know. There are so many books at First Edition that I have no idea where to start."

"And that Redguard who runs it is no help at all, is he," the Imperial commented as she wrote. "All he ever does is sneer at you. I always want to make a face at him when he says 'good day', like you were something he found on the bottom of his shoe."

Now Teresa did allow a smile to sneak its way past her lips. The snide Redguard had said exactly the same thing to her, in just that way. She had thought it was because she was a Bosmer, or her pale skin. It was good to know that she was not the only one.

"Here, take this and see which ones you can find." The Imperial handed the list of half-a-dozen books to Teresa.

"So you wrote The Last King Of The Ayleids? That sounds like exactly what I am looking for!" Teresa noted, then scanning down the list, one of the author's names leapt out at her. "Hey, Irlav Jarol's Magic From The Sky? He's the same man who wrote that other book that was so bad."

"I know, but he didn't write Magic From The Sky, except for the last chapter that denounces all the magical achievements of the Ayleids." Herminia leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her tea. "His students wrote it. He just took all the credit."

"How can he get away with that?" Teresa wondered, and took a sip from the tea herself. It was strong, and a little bitter, but not too much so.

"He's a patrician, that's how." Herminia's comment was as sour as month-old milk. "Not to mention a member of the Mages Council and the history department head at the University."

"The Old Boy's Society then." Teresa nodded to herself. Apparently life was just as unfair in the highest halls of academia as it was down in the gutter. Looking back to Herminia, she wondered if that was why the Imperial was not a sage at the University? She thought of asking, but it did not seem like a wise idea.

"Some things haven't changed since the First Age," the other woman sighed. "But that's life. Speaking of the First Age I think we should go over a bit of the Middle Ayleid Period before we get to the Late Era. In order to understand events, you need to know the history that proceeds them. Sort of like looking at the foundation of a building can tell you why it was built the way it was."

Teresa nodded and took another sip from her tea as the scholar went on. "To understand the final days of the Arimer, we need to start at the point they began to be called Ayleid: Alessia's Revolution. You have probably heard that it began in the year 231 of the First Age, in Lipsand Tarn. There Alessia - now a magician of prodigious might herself - overthrew Queen Tenyeminwe and seized control of the city."

"Where is that?" Teresa asked. "I have heard it in the stories, but have never had any idea where it, or any of the other places, actually were."

"Let me see if I can dig out a-" The Imperial rose and moved to the bookshelf, but stopped when Teresa withdrew a piece of parchment from her bag and began unfolding it, revealing a large map of Cyrodiil. "My, you did come prepared didn't you?"

"I just bought this yesterday. It's one of Natalia Dravarol's maps," Teresa said, feeling her cheeks turn warm at the scholar's praise. "I have been told that hers are the best."

"Indeed they are," the Imperial breathed. Leaning down beside Teresa, the forester breathed in the soft jasmine of the other woman's perfume. Glancing at the finger the scholar used to point on the map, she noted that Herminia did not wear a wedding band. She was tempted to reach up and put her arm around the other woman's waist. It was what Nerussa would do, Teresa thought. Yet she was not as bewitching as the former courtesan, and the Imperial would probably be offended.

"No one can be exactly certain these days," the scholar went on, seemingly oblivious to Teresa's thoughts, "but it should be right about here, due north of Chorrol, high in the mountains near where Cyrodiil, Skyrim, and Hammerfell meet. It was not far from the fortress at Sancre Tor, which the rebels built a year later at the foot of Serpent Pass, which leads through the Jerall Mountains to Skyrim."

"From their new fortress at Sancre Tor, the rebels were able to attract many Nordic adventurers and mercenaries to their cause. With their help, they were able to take the nearby city-states of Ninendava and Moranda in the following years, and more followed after that, until eventually the entire region surrounding modern day Chorrol was in Alessia's hands." Herminia sat down once more, and took a sip of her tea. "However, it was not until eleven years after the beginning of the revolt that High Chieftain Vrage of Skyrim officially recognized Alessia as the Queen of the Cyrods and made formal alliance with her. This was a key event, as it meant his army would now join Alessia's, and most especially his gold would help keep her new government from collapsing upon itself."

"But I thought Pelinal Whitestrake killed all the Ayleids in the Imperial City just a year after the revolution began?" Teresa wondered aloud. "But you say eleven years later they were still in the mountains?"

"As Sotha Sil once said: Trust not the words of a poet, as he is born to seduce." The scholar made a face. "They are not known for their research, but rather for what sounds dramatic. The Alessian Revolution was not the sudden avalanche across Cyrodiil that many like to believe, but rather a very slow and steady expansion, taking advantage of the inherent instabilities and rivalries between the Arimer city-states."

"I have heard that too," Teresa said. "That the Ayleids were not really one country, like Cyrodiil is now. Instead it was just a bunch of separate little cities, right?"

"Indeed," Herminia nodded, as in approval. "Each city was a state in its own right, minting its own coinage, making it own laws, and following its own policies and traditions. They were united by a high king here in the Imperial City. At that time it was Umaril. But his power was very limited. In fact, what many people do not realize is that several Ayleid city states allied themselves with Alessia."

"What?" Teresa questioned. "But why would they do that? I mean, they kept humans as slaves, tortured them for entertainment, and sacrificed them to the Daedra."

"That is what we are told, and some of those stories are without a doubt true," Herminia spread her hands and shrugged her shoulders. "But some of those tales are certainly just war propaganda as well."

"We do know for a fact from Alessia's letters, and others found in Ayleid sites, that some of their monarchs did indeed make treaties with her, and march in her armies. As to why they would turn on their fellow elves for the sake of human slaves, I doubt that is how they viewed it. Most probably saw themselves as using Alessia's army as a tool against their rivals. They probably thought the Alessians would never last, and planned to be the last ones standing when the dust cleared."

"Others may very well have abolished slavery and possibly necromancy too. We know that in the early period of Ayleid history, neither were a part of their culture. So doing so would simply have been a matter of returning to their cultural roots. For those city states where plantation-style farming was not feasible, the keeping of vast hosts of slaves was probably not economically viable. So freeing them would not be much of a blow. Besides, a government can still suppress and marginalize a people without them being slaves."

Teresa nodded at the latter. She had certainly seen that living on the streets, and especially in her three years in the Waterfront shantytown.

Yay, a history lesson! Hmm, I don't think Linara has run into Herminia yet, although she sounds interesting, although Herminia's father is my favorite in this chapter. Very nice history though. Is there actually an in=game book?

Great job of world-building here. Loved the history lesson, even though it's not necessarily true to Lore. However most RL rebellions are long, grinding drags (look at our own!) that take several years to succeed.

A couple of nits:
Seems to me you're missing a word here - maybe your?

This time, the word morphed from inherent to something implying Dad's treasure.

Now for some things I liked:
Ain't that the truth!

Sounds like a chemistry prof I had in college!

This whole paragraph is a wonderful insight into Teresa's character and how she is maturing!

Loved this chapter segment!