His negotiation with Rasheda had left them both outraged, a sure sign of a well-struck bargain.
This gave me more than a faint smile.

I see Darnand has spiffed himself up for his meeting with the Abster. Troubador hair, fancy robe, shoes buffed up for hours. Every girl's crazy about a sharp dressed man. I suppose we will see about that though...

“Abiene.” Everything in his heart was there in her name. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Poor man, he still has it bad. Nothing hurts like unrequited love.

There is so much I don’t know about what’s inside someone’s head.
Wow, a woman who is honest! Sorry, in spite of the serious subject, that one line just leapt out at me.

I liked Abiene's description of her teacher, and how you have chosen to present him. Both he and Abiene represent different ends of the medical/healer spectrum. Those who want to help people with all of their hearts, and those who have hardened their hearts against feeling loss when the inevitable failure happens. Abiene has a difficult quandry. She feels too much for her patients, and if she continues on as she is, eventually she will burn out. Like she said, she might not be made for this after all. I can relate to how she feels. I love animals so much that I could never be a veterinarian. But I am so calloused toward people that I could be a doctor with no problem. I am even like that watching movies. I can see humans being killed left and right and not feel a thing. But kick one dog, and I am all in an emotional uproar.

And Jerric makes his cryptic appearance. I wonder if he was giving long meaningful glances to Darnand about Earana? She does like to haunt the Great Oak.

And Darnand knows a French restaurant! I hope there aren't any snails on Abiene's plate! What a wonderful bracelet! Plus and excellent enchantment. Now Abiene can walk between the raindrops. I felt so bad for him the entire time though. He is so head over heels for Abiene, and so utterly doomed. Whenever he finally works up the nerve to spill the beans, it is going to be ugly.

That is a very handy spell of Abiene's that removes foreign or dead tissue. One of the worst killers with bullet wounds is not the bullet itself, but the pieces of cloth that get pushed in the wound. Then they rot, and cause fatal infections. Where the bullet OTOH is sterilized from the heat of being fired from the gun.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 24 2012, 03:12 AM

I was going to write something about putting the genie back in the bottle, but that seemed inappropriate as a metaphor.

Or right on the mark, as that is exactly what Darnand's mind is leading to. Unfortunately, he lacks the courage to leap on her like a hungry leopard and...er...dip his genie in her bottle.

‘Their path took them around the Healer’s Hand statue and up through the castle grounds. The reflecting pool still held patches of ice, scored by marks from ice skates. Darnand led them on the wandering trail through the boulders between the castle and Great Oak Place.’
Another magnificently immersive Grits description that seems to flow so effortlessly from your quill.

‘Abiene’s sweet smile told him she remembered.’
This was perfect. There was a nagging familiarity about the pinwheels. When Abiene remembered, so did I – the ball at Castle Anvil with Darnand and splitting the sweets and dancing. . . .

What a neat reminder of Darnand’s interests and Abiene’s thirst for healing knowledge as the two discussed opening a dead skull up to see how the insides work.

I was impressed by Jerric’s restrained and rather gentlemanly behavior when the trio briefly crossed paths.

‘He hoped he would not need to stand for at least a few more minutes.’

‘I could procure a room for us, Darnand thought. This day is for lovers, no inn would turn us away.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should return to the chapel. You might rest before your next shift. May I walk with you?”
By Dibella, there is quite a disconnect between Darnand’s thoughts and his words – how delightful that this was from his perspective so we could snoop on his thoughts!

As ever, you captured Darnand, Abiene and Jerric perfectly here.

Sounds like they’ve been keeping Abiene busy with healing. Poor Darnand, he gets to take her for the evening stroll and Jerric gets to share her bed at night! Just as before, Abiene gets too wrapped up in her patients, sneaking out to heal a brain injury and almost killing the man! I can hardly fault her for such a quality though, taking a real interest in her practice and people. The people like and respect her for it.

Yikes! Darnand knows a lot about necromancy!

I wonder… if Abiene’s healing methods also allow her to read people. She seemed to do that quite well with Darnand. Maybe it was just familiarity though. Now that I think of it, I think it’s familiarity. If she could read people, then Darnand’s crush would never have been so.

Curse the lack of confidence! That was a Heart’s Day present, not a birthday present!

To the chapel? C’mon, you had the right idea with the inn before. Ah, too bad she has plans already anyways.

Here's a second update this week, I didn’t want to wait too long since the last section and the next two go so closely together. I’m sure this won’t become a habit! Also, I went back in the last part and edited Darnand’s thought to “He has found something at Cloud Top” to make it more clear what Jerric was contorting his face about. Just thought I’d mention it.

mALX: Thank you for your kind words about Darnand. I have been waiting so long for the chance to let him show what’s really on his mind. After all, the whole story opened with Darnand thinking about Abiene (and annoyed with Jerric ). You’re right, saving the world is going to have to wait until after Heart’s Day. That’s two more updates, so keep holding on to that cliff!! Thank you so much, mALX!

SubRosa: You are exactly right about Abiene’s dilemma. Carahil has been telling her for over a year, and now Abiene has finally admitted it to herself. Abiene’s journey deserves its own story, or so she keeps insisting. So it's good to know her parts are coming through when she gets her moments. I’m glad you liked the Debride spell. (It took me forever to work out the details.) The way healing works in Jerric’s world would result in a lot of abscesses and lingering infections if done improperly, so folk still need chapels and trained healers. Thank you, Subrosa!

ghastley: Thank you so much for that mental image! And you’re right, there’s no going back now.

Acadian: I have been waiting for a chance to give Darnand his own episode, since as you pointed out the disconnect between his thoughts and his words makes most of his mind a complete mystery to observers. Even when Jerric gets it right, he’s only catching part of the story. There will be another Darnand part in this chapter, since that’s the only way I know to get his thoughts across. He is not a big communicator. Whew, I really hoped that the pinwheel cakes would be a reminder of their warm friendship, so that the depth Darnand’s feeling wouldn’t seem like something new. Thank you so much, Acadian!

King Coin: Darnand is definitely getting a bad deal this Heart’s Day! While I was writing the next parts I kept thinking, unfair! Interesting that you brought up whether Abiene can read people. Jerric has his suspicions, since she’s very good at guessing. Plus she’s admitted that she connects on an emotional and spiritual level with her patients, which gives her more to work with. She’ll explain more about where she gets her abilities while the crew is in Chorrol, but as you determined, she’s not a mind reader. Although if she could peek into people’s thoughts, she totally would! For their own good, of course. Thank you, KC!

Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric has returned from his mountain mission and attempted to communicate through wiggling his eyebrows. Darnand has wined and dined Abiene, then dropped her off at the chapel door. Lildereth is in parts unknown.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Nine


Jerric spent the hours before dinner cleaning and stowing his gear. For all the dangers Teekeeus and Earana must have feared, Jerric had only encountered winter-lean deer, one shy wolf, and a few frisky imps. He and the imps had traded frost and shock spells most of the way up one long set of steps, until the biggest one swooped close enough for Jerric to smack it with his shield. Then the imps developed a sudden interest in some unseen quarry, leaving him alone for the rest of the climb. During the whole day in the hills, Jerric hadn’t even once drawn a blade.

Thoughts of Darnand and Abiene wanted to creep into his mind, but he kept his attention on his hands. In time this new armor would become as familiar as his skin. He carefully examined every strap, buckle, and rivet after the day’s exercise. Rasheda’s work was without fault. She had put a matte finish on the dark metal and slightly mis-matched the pieces as if some plates had been replaced. Wearing it, Jerric had the look of a hard-working mercenary who had invested heavily in his shield and swords.

Jerric gave himself a sniff test after he hung his arming doublet and leggings to air. Good enough for dinner. He shrugged into a tunic and loose trousers. As he closed the cupboard, an unfamiliar parcel caught his eye. Darnand, he thought with a grin. Let’s see what he bought me.

Linen drawers, a pair of doeskin camp moccasins, and a tin of armpit powder. Jerric laughed. The Breton did manage to trip over Jerric’s boots at least once every night. He supposed the absence of a spare comb and breath freshener should be considered a compliment.

There was something under the stack of undergarments. Jerric laughed again. It was a wide-toothed comb.

Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes. Jerric hoped that spring vegetables would be in by the time they reached Cheydinhal. He wondered what Darnand and Abiene were having.

Earana was the subject on everyone else’s mind. “I passed her in the circle this afternoon,” said Angalmo. “You wouldn't believe the look she gave me!”

Alberic gestured with his fork. “Whatever her problem is, she's taking it out on the entire guild!”

Jerric waited for Teekeeus to speak up, but he kept his lips tight and his eyes narrow. The Argonian drank more than he ate. Jerric decided to speak with Earana the next time he saw her.

After dinner at the Chorrol hall meant brandy and pipes in the library, followed by cheese and fruit, then eventually kahve and sweets. Jerric took Ulfe for a walk around Great Oak Place instead. The hound loved to run after sticks, but her retrieving was not reliable. She often romped back full of pride and expectations, leaving her toy where it landed. Jerric would compensate by elaborately miming another throw. Sometimes Ulfe returned with a rock, a bone, or an entirely different stick.

The chapel bells rang nine of the evening watch. Jerric looked down the street toward Fountain Gate for the hundredth time. What was taking them so long? He planned to head to the bathhouse shortly after Darnand returned to the guild hall. That would give Abiene time to see to her patients and allow him to arrive at her doorstep in as fresh a condition as possible. Now he began to wonder if his friend was on some unspoken errand. He decided to go clean his teeth to kill some time.

Ulfe pranced over to Athragar as they passed through the library. She sat down in front of him as precisely as if posing for a statue. The Bosmer crooned to her as he carved off several Septim’s worth of finely veined blue cheese. Ulfe accepted his offering with the dignity of a queen. Then she swiped Athragar’s face with her tongue.

“Have you read the materials I gave you?” Athragar asked Jerric, drying off with a pocket square.

“Uh, no. Not all of them.” Athragar raised an admonitory finger. “I’ve memorized the incantations,” Jerric said quickly. “I chanted for hours in my head today. I don’t even hear the words any more, just like you said.”

“In that case, let us proceed as we planned. We will spend tomorrow preparing you for the ritual. Keep your fast on Morndas morning. Water and kahve are permitted, but not so much that you will need to relieve yourself once you are sealed in the summoning chamber.”

“Uh, yeah. All right.” Athragar was slicing another small fortune from the block of cheese. “Not too much of that,” Jerric told him, heading up to the guild hall’s austere bathing chamber. Ulfe ignored him. He suspected that so would Athragar.

Back on the ground level, Jerric met Darnand coming in the front door.

“What did you find at Cloud Top?” Darnand asked in greeting.

“A book, a Staff of Paralysis, some rolls of parchment, a couple of magicka potions, and one very dead fetcher. Burned up, but not by fire. Lightning, maybe. Fellow had a Welkynd stone on him. I found the rest in his pack. Hadn’t been there long. His pack still had two good apples.”

Darnand looked about to burst.

“Teekeeus has the lot,” Jerric continued. “I’m sorry, Darnand. He was on me like fleas on a troll the minute I walked through the door. Damned stupid, I should have waited for you before I came back here. How was your Breton dinner?”

“Did you happen to examine any of the materials? Did you read anything at all?”

“Yeah, but I’d need you to make sense of it. The notes I could read were all about atmospheric energy, and the rest were in Aldmeris. I couldn’t even open the book. Whatever he was doing up there, I don’t think he planned for it to take long. No camp supplies.”

Darnand crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have a few moments?”

Jerric wanted to bolt out the door, but Darnand had something on his mind. “Yeah,” said Jerric. He gave Darnand his attention.

“Have you decided how we should enchant your armor?” Darnand asked. With a gesture he indicated that Jerric should precede him to the basement.

“Yeah,” said Jerric, heading down the stairs. “I want to make myself stronger, and increase my chance of absorbing spells. My boots make me faster, but I wouldn’t say no to another speed boost. Plus I need to get through some spots undetected, so that means being a better sneak.”

“We must choose carefully. I am a rank beginner in this art. I only know how to place a single enchantment on a piece of equipment.”

“What about Abiene’s ring? You put two on that.”

“I used a spell that has two effects. That is one enchantment.” He put out his hand to forestall Jerric’s complaints. “I suppose given enough time I might write another spell for you, but I do not think that you would want to wait.”

Jerric eyebrows went up. “Another spell?”

“Did I not mention it? Well, this is not the time. I suggest that we place an enchantment on your armor that is specific to your needs while you are wearing it. Perhaps one that will muffle the horrendous noise you make. Lildereth has taught me her spell. I am afraid there is not even a small chance that you will learn it. You might make potions to enhance your offensive skills and fortify your defense, but not to quiet your movements. As you have already concluded, there will be some conflicts that you would be well advised to avoid.”

Jerric thought about it.

“You should wear the Ring of Khajiiti in the Deadlands,” Darnand added. “It will further increase your speed, and its Chameleon effect is quite strong. You will not go unseen, but with caution you might go unnoticed.”

They had reached Darnand’s cupboard, next to Jerric’s. The Breton produced Jerric’s katana, offering it across his palms in the gesture that must be familiar even to mages.

Jerric slipped the blade halfway out of its sheath. Red magicka danced along it, backed by a shudder of darkness. “Blade of the Medic,” he murmured.

Darnand looked astonished. “That is what I would have named it!”

“Not Sword of the Healer?” Perhaps he would say something about Abiene.

“Stendarr, no. This weapon will suck the very life from your enemies, applying the energy indiscriminately through your body as would a mindless potion. Even the damage to your muscles and joints caused by your own strikes and shield work will be repaired by this blade. You will emerge from many battles renewed. Your healers will curse you for any badly mended wounds, but it is a comfort that you might be alive to hear them.”

Jerric put the blade away. “I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.” He leaned against the cupboard. “How’s our supply of magicka gems? Do you think you can get an altar here to work?”

“I have acquired an empty gem from Contumeliorus. We will need as much power as possible for a stronger effect. I should think a bear, if you could find one.”

“I’ll ask Lildereth what she thinks, if she ever gets here. Maybe she’ll take me hunting.” Not for some sleeping bear, Jerric already knew. He was confident she would come up with an appropriate target.

“Lildereth does not know the Soul Trap spell,” Darnand pointed out. He looked uneasy.

“You mean you don’t want to go bear hunting? I have that dagger, remember? Your Soul Is Mine.”

Darnand’s face was a picture. Jerric guessed that poking a powerful creature with a short blade might seem like a bad idea to many.

Time was pressing on him. He grabbed the day pack out of his cupboard and made a move for the stairs. “You should head up to the library. They’re on their second pipe by now, I’d wager. And Athragar is trying to kill your dog with cheese.”

That got Darnand moving. Only a few things upset Ulfe’s digestion, and Jerric had just named one of them. He wondered if Darnand knew a spell to cure flatulence in a hound. He’d have to sleep with a window open if he didn’t.

Jone’s Shadow let Jerric run the distance to the bathhouse without attracting attention. Anticipation had tightened into tension. He kept it back by letting Abiene fill his mind, until every part of him ached for her. He remembered the look on her face when she first saw him. The way she listened so perfectly still, and how her laugh made his heart sing. He thought of her slender neck, and the fine line of tiny hairs down between her shoulders. That way she’d breathe as he entered her. The hundred different ways she smiled.

Clean enough, he decided. And no need to tie all of these laces.

Back on the street he kicked himself for not saving invisibility for the final stretch to the guest cottage. I shouldn’t meet her, he thought, taking the steps along the sidewalk two at a time. I’m putting her in danger. Like Piner. Maybe even the Odiils. Anxiety ate his belly and despair lapped at his heels. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then cursed himself for acting suspicious. Every shadow seemed to conceal a red-robed figure. They dress in regular clothes and summon their armor, he reminded himself. They could be anyone.

There was more to his disquiet, he finally admitted. Darnand’s words came back to him, unwelcome. “Tomorrow is Heart’s Day,” in that troubled tone. Was he really only thinking of overcrowded inns? He had enchanted a bracelet for Abiene’s birthday. Jewelry hinted at more than friends. Yet he hadn’t questioned that Jerric had gotten her a ring.

Jerric walked past the guest cottage and doubled back through the park after an Imperial gave him a sideways look. It took several moments without passing footsteps before he would move around to the front.

There was nothing he wouldn’t give Darnand. The thought of hurting him felt like a punch to the gut.

The cottage door was painted a cheery red, and the hardware was polished brass. He wondered how long it would hold if someone tried to break it down. I shouldn’t be here, Jerric thought. The most dangerous thing in Chorrol might be my feet on this porch. Even after he knocked, he tried to make himself walk away.

Then the door opened, and there was only Abiene.

Don’t worry Jerric, Darnand’s making it easy to get your romp in tonight.

Darnand’s supplies for Jerric had me rolling! Glad they are looking out for each other! The Mages sure know how to spend an evening. I thought Jerric would join them for more eating, I suppose he’s got Abiene on his mind instead of his stomach. (what a shock!)

Aaand Jerric’s nightly activities with Abiene are going to be delayed by Darnand. A little revenge for him even if he doesn’t know it! The muffle spell! A little bit of Skyrim, and one of Aravi’s favorite spells. Nice enchantment on the katana, Aravi made an absorb life blade as well. I believe hers is called Retribution.

Now Jerric’s displaying some paranoia. And it occurs to him again that Darnand has feelings for the same woman. I have to say that I’m pleased he even thought of those things at least before he spent the night with Abiene.

*



ROFL !!! Now I can laugh about that same scene for another week, between that and Ghastley's Genie in the Bottle I have not stopped laughing since the last chapter posted!

From the paragraph that began "Jone’s Shadow" to the end I found myself holding my own breath with Jerric's thoughts. That whole section was HUGE with tension and now another cliffhanger !!! ARGH !!! Awesome Write !!! Totally Awesome !!!


*

So Jerric's facial contortions were not due to something he ate after all! Just kidding. I figured it was about him fingering the mountain.

I wonder if Jerric's "good enough for dinner" sniff test equals "ewwww!" for the rest of us?

Ulfe and her errant fetching antics are much fun, as usual.

So Teekeus got the goods eh? I expected him to be all over Jerric like fleas on troll (excellent metaphor there). Now I wonder if the dynamic duo will steal it back from Teekeus so they can find out what is really in that book. I suppose they might even take it to Earana for translating, then swipe it back from her, and put it back in Teekeus' things when they are done. If they are quick enough, Teek won't even be the wiser.

The Blade of the Medic, I might have gone with The Vampires Kiss, but who am I to argue? Absorb Health is potent stuff. Especially at high levels of it. My Mazken Aerin enchanted her sword with a sigil stone Absorb Health of 25 points. She would fight Clannfears in melee and come out without a scratch.

Jerric's caution and self doubt is well deserved here, given that he is something of a marked man by the Mythic Dawn. But I doubt many people would let that stop them from making a rendezvous with that special someone. I would not. Then all that falls away, and there is only the Abster.

'Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.'
Thank you so much, Chef Grits, for feeding me! Yum!

The antics of the stick-chasing Ulfe are wonderful! She shares a similar trait with our skirt-chasing heroic Nord and, it seems, just as likely to fetch up the wrong one. And fun to see Athragar suffer the dignity of being tongued by a queen.

“I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.”
So do I!

Sobering thoughts invade Jerric’s mind as he tries to sneak like a Khajiit to his rendezvous. MD sleepers, Darnand’s interest in Abiene, his own ache for her. . . . What a wonderful ending to this episode!

Fantastic!!...That'll teach me to wait and wind up distracted before can I get around to posting!!... ...

Aaaamywho...Loved both chapters...This trawl around Chorrol is definately one of my fave sections of the story so far...

Still think there may be trouble ahead for our chums...Jealousy and all that...

Amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*... ...

I'm going to mostly echo what everyone else has said about your posts since I've been absent.

But I have to point out the irony in this juxtaposition:


Followed a short time later by:


Umm, about that breath freshener?

King Coin: I’m glad you enjoyed Darnand’s supplies for Jerric. Close quarters with the Nord can be a trial for Darnand. That Muffle spell is one of my favorites, too. When I saw it in Skyrim, I immediately thought of Jerric with his heavy feet. Thank you, KC!

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I’ll be tense until I get this part posted. Abiene finally gets her say. Whew!

SubRosa: I’m sure Darnand’s introducing him to armpit powder is no accident. Blade of the Medic in the game has the same enchantment as Aerin’s. It’s awesome, but a real pain to keep charged. It costs him a fortune! Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed the winter dinner. I had such a Breton feast planned for you in the last part, but that Darnand wouldn’t pay attention to the food! Argh! Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! I think you may be right about the jealousy... Maybe they’ll get distracted by saving the world, or something. Now that they’re in Chorrol, I don’t want them to leave! Or maybe that’s Abiene taking over again…

haute ecole rider: The other end might need freshening after all of those pickles and cabbage. And tonight he won’t be able to blame it on the dog! It’s great to have you back, haute!


Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric questioned himself the whole way to the guest cottage. Abiene opened the door.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Ten


Abiene stood in the doorway in a thin dressing robe, firelight casting a glow around her. Jerric stepped in and quickly closed the door. Then she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

When his senses were filled with her, she slipped away.

“It’s Heart’s Day and I didn’t get you anything,” Abiene said, blushing. “But there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Me too. Here. I, uh, well I forgot about Heart’s Day too. This was supposed to be one of your birthday presents.” Jerric handed the parcel over and tugged at her robe.

“Candied ginger!” Abiene kissed his throat before opening the jar. “I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger. You had been snacking on your alchemy ingredients!” She placed a piece on his tongue before taking one for herself, closing her eyes with enjoyment.

Jerric took the opportunity to shed his clothing. The cottage was a single room with only one door. All of the windows were covered. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was making Cure Disease potions. Gods, you were on fire. Then that Altmer walked in and nearly caught me up your skirt.” A few steps brought them to the bed. The quilts were already folded back. “I was thinking about Saturalia, though. The way you loved Bertille’s gingerbread guild hall. That must be how you looked when you were a little kid.”

“Mmm...” Abiene had a smile in her voice. Her skin was a dream. “Wait! First I want to look at you.” She yanked on his hair. “Come on, get back up.”

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene laughed, but she didn’t relent. “Now,” she said, squirming and shoving. “Move.”

Jerric stood for inspection, hoping she would be quick. “There are some things you’re not going to like.” He glanced down. “Say, you should start on this side.”

Abiene was already running her hands over the scar across his back. “Who did this?” she demanded.

“Dremora.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I mean who healed it? This is a botched job, Jerric. It’s going to take a lot of work to correct.”

“I did. I was, uh, pressed for time.” He crawled back onto the bed. “Yes, it pains me; yes, I want you to fix it; not now, it can wait.” He decided to leave the nose reconstruction out of this discussion.

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

In an instant she was in his arms again, laughing. He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.

That was his last thought for some time. Eventually he realized he was gazing at the ceiling. Abiene rested at his side. He had to bend his neck to see it, but her face held a look that melted him. Like the bards say. My heart is a flame. He almost laughed.

But this kind of feeling leaves too big a hole behind. Jerric stroked a thumb over her cheek. She had to close those eyes so he could bear it.

He looked around and made himself notice the rest of the cottage’s furnishings. Low dressers, cupboards, bookcases, and luggage stands lined the walls. Tapestries and painted landscapes hung above them. One corner held a chamber stool, wash basin, and a short but deep sitting tub. A screen stood folded to the side. Two chairs were pulled up to the other fireplace with a low table between them. Another table stood under the draped windows, writing materials at the ready. The cottage was cozy, but fine. It would be easy to imagine Abiene here.

His sweat was almost dry on their skin. Abiene rolled away and stretched like a cat, taking time to savor the motion. He knew she would get up to use the wash basin next. Even watching her was a pleasure.

“Are you hungry?” Abiene asked. “I have some things for sandwiches. I brought ale and mead, too.” She walked to the sideboard and poured a goblet of wine.

“Maybe later.”

She soon rejoined him on the bed. Her eyes were thoughtful over the edge of the goblet. He waited while she gathered herself.

Abiene set down the wine. “Do you remember what you told me that night on the beach? I’ve had some time to think since I’ve been here alone. I’m tired of telling lies, and I’m through with all of the hiding. I want to be who I am, and… and never mind about those who don’t like it. Part of who I am is loving you. I know you said no promises, and I’m not asking for any. You make me better, Jerric. Stronger. I’ve been wrong to deny you. I want to look folk in the eye and have them know that I’m yours.”

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”

Abiene sat bolt upright. “What?”

“For your safety! Gods, Abiene! I’m mixed up in things, and I can’t protect you. It’s already started. Folk are dying. Someday they’ll come for you if they learn about us.”

He could tell she believed him, but that wasn’t enough. “What about Darnand?” she demanded. “What about Lildereth? Everyone knows they stand by your side. Are you telling them they can’t be with you? I can protect myself better than you think!” She rose up on her knees, full of fight.

This isn’t one I can win, thought Jerric. He sat up on the bed. “Abiene, there’s no argument. I have to trust that you’ll be careful. Please don’t make this be the last time.”

For a moment he thought she was going to hit him, but then her fists turned into twisting fingers. Anger drained away into embarrassment. “I feel like such an idiot,” she groaned, slumping down onto her haunches. “All that time I was so worried, and now I thought we could finally—”

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”

“Stay the night,” she murmured. “The way I never would. Stay and hold me.”

He didn’t need words to answer.


Jerric woke in the night. Abiene shook his shoulder, frantic. A spell’s watery light surrounded them.

“What is it?” Jerric hissed, reaching for a blade.

“It’s you,” she cried. “It’s you. You’re so much worse. Stendarr’s mercy, Jerric, what’s happening?”

Jerric sank back into the pillows. His frost crackled away in a harmless mist. “I was dreaming,” he guessed. “I don’t remember it.”

“I tried to reach you. I know, I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I think I made it worse. I’m so sorry!”

“I thought you said you can’t read a person’s thoughts.” He realized the sheets were damp with his sweat. His heart was still pounding.

“I can’t, and I wouldn’t intrude like that even if I could. I promise! But I can feel your guilt and sorrow, and your hope is so much stronger. But there’s that part of you I can’t touch. No, I won’t because I’m afraid. It would hurt me, like staring at the sun.”

Her words gave Jerric a cold feeling.

“I saw it when you came back to Anvil, and it’s still there,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Jerric rubbed his eyes. “Akatosh. In the chapel in Kvatch I asked for something, I didn’t even know what. Strength, or will. To keep fighting. I guess he gave it to me, because I’m still going.” Jerric squeezed Abiene’s hands. “That’s what I meant when I said I don’t belong to myself any more. I can’t explain it, but I’m doing what I’m meant to do, for as long as I can. It’s a war, love. We can’t just get used to it, and it’s not going away.”

Abiene’s face looked as pale as first light. “Akatosh… That’s why you close the Gates. It’s not just revenge. You think you can end this.” She pulled her hands away and took a ragged breath.

He watched her struggle for a long moment. There was nothing she could change. Maybe this time she would accept it.

Now her voice sounded small, as if she had somehow diminished. “I want you to say that you’ll come back to me.”

We’ve been over this, thought Jerric. Silence stretched between them.

After time she lay down next to him, curling against his side in the way he wished was more familiar. He fell asleep with tears cooling his shoulder.

“I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger.
This was a nice touch, to flash back to that previous encounter.

Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?
At least he is honest about his... abilities!

So Abiene is finally ready to be an honest woman. Well it's about damn time woman. But I am afraid her timing cannot be worse. Not with the danger Jerric worrying about placing his friends during the last episode, and his need to be secretive. This is not going to go over well...

And finally the realization that Jerric is more than just a regular guy with a lot of luck. At least not anymore. Akatosh's fire is in him. That was a wonderful way of revealing it. Methinks that besides from a mere blessing, our Jerric maybe be an actual dragonborn as well. That would explain a lot.

These two lines had me in hysterics !!!



GAAAAH!!!! Jerric turned down food?

The section from Jerric's nightmare on was powerful and revealing a lot more of what Jerric has been holding back from everyone. There was not just a feeling of destiny here, but a feeling of finalization, mortality. Jerric doesn't think he will survive this, and doesn't want Abiene unprotected when he is gone is the feeling I got from that conversation.

Poor Darnand doesn't stand a chance against the chemistry between these two, but somehow I get the feeling he will eventually have his day.

Very powerful write !!!! Awesome !!!!

Abiene the healer always. Three minutes?!

Interesting about the scar on his neck. I’m glad you took the time to share that with us.

Yikes! She wants him despite the ‘no promises’ warning. Doesn’t it usually end up that way? This isn’t what Jerric had in mind at all! I’m surprised that she took his answer as well as she did.

What?! Jerric cast in his dreams? I never considered that happening! That was a really strong ending for this chapter. It’s so easy to forget Jerric’s burdens when he’s such an easy going guy. He hides all his pain so well that you forget it is there. Touching at the end, Abiene wants him to make a promise he knows he can’t keep, and he doesn’t do it. Amazing!

Wow! This was so powerful and so sad. Testimony to how precious you have made these two characters for all of us.

’He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.’
This was perfectly written!

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”
Arrghh! These two bonking bunnies have finally overcome their fear of commitment. Abiene has committed to Jerric, even as her Nord has committed to Akatosh. Powerful and heartbreaking at the same time. Yet Jerric is right about the danger he exposes Abiene to, and I honor his decision.

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”
*sad sigh* We can hope for their future. After all, I remember when Jerric believed that closing an Oblivion Gate from the inside was tantamount to suicide – yet he did it and survived. Let us hope he can serve as Martin’s vessel and survive whatever Akatosh pours into him as well.

Just a beautiful episode!

...That's some amazing stuff right there, that is...

The first half was funny, flirty and little bit dirteh ...

And then it changed and it was beautiful and sad and scary too...

Wow...Loves me Jerric do I...I may have mentioned... ...

Wow again...

So very Nice One!!!

*Applauds heartily*...

SubRosa: I remember way back in Kvatch you caught the whiff of time dragon brimstone when Jerric was on his knees in the chapel. He still doesn’t understand all of what happened. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: When Jerric turns down a sandwich, you know he’s really troubled! You’re exactly right about Jerric’s thinking on the Abiene situation. Of course, Abiene would skin him alive for using her own high-handed ways on her, if her thinking wasn’t so clouded. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: Jerric wakes up ready for a fight thanks to his years guarding the caravan. That scar on his back was from the Gate he closed on this road trip while Darnand spent three days battling daedra with the Legion and County Kvatch Guard (and developing his inner badass in the process). You’re right to expect more of a fight from Abiene. He thinks they’re done with that discussion (again), while she’s just thinking it over. I’m so glad you pointed out Jerric’s silence at the very end. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! As you pointed out Jerric has been wrong before, and there is a lot he could still hope for. I’m sure you can imagine that this chapter has caused me some anxiety in both the creation and then in letting it go so that the events could happen. Your kind words are so reassuring.

McBadgere: You describe how I see them to a T. And may I mention that your Nol and Cestra are so inspiring. I’m no longer giving up on ideas because I’m afraid they’re too complicated to express. Many thanks, McB!


Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric and Abiene spent their first whole night together. Abiene said she was ready to let the world know that she is his woman. Jerric said no way, too dangerous. She later woke him in a panic while he was having one of his dreams. He explained the Akatosh situation, but did not mention Martin. She finally seemed to get the message.

Also: I hope I got the verb tense right in this very first section. If it’s not clear, I would love some advice about handling these review-without-flashback situations.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Eleven


Jerric strode up the hill toward Great Oak Place, a cold wind teasing his hair. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept after Abiene left for the chapel, but it had been long enough for the fire to die back down. Chorrol’s fashionable districts were sadly lacking in kahve stands and food carts. His best bet for a late breakfast was the guild hall.

He had awakened early to the sight of Abiene stretched out bare on a mat before the newly built fire. No morning sounds came in from the street. As he watched, Abiene rose up on her knees and placed her palms behind her hips. Then she slowly reached back to her heels, lifting her chest and chin toward the ceiling. After a few moments he had to remind himself to breathe.

There was something new in her eyes when she turned to look at him. A want that Jerric knew his body couldn’t answer. He could distract her, though. When she returned to the bed, they didn’t speak of the night before. But this time as he held her, all the things he wouldn’t say kept rising to the top of his mind.

Afterward she had rushed through her preparations for work, fumbling in her haste. Only time for one quick kiss as she raced for the door. “I’m staying overnight at the chapel,” she had told him, “but I’ll be here tomorrow night. It might be late, but I promise I will come.”

She had stepped out into the misty morning, turning to give him a last look before she shut the door. Later his life detection ring had allowed him to exit the cottage unobserved. Now Jerric pressed the key into his palm, remembering the fire’s warm light on her face as she stood with grey dawn behind her. Rather than lifting his spirits, the image haunted him. What had Darnand said the other day? “I am out of sorts.” Jerric knew the feeling.

Great Oak Place was a popular meeting spot even on a chilly morning. A dozen folk in fur-mantled cloaks had gathered in pairs and small groups. Others were moving through the circle. Earana stood alone glaring up at the Mages Guild hall.

Maybe I can get her to leave, thought Jerric. He walked over.

“You’re a bold little thing,” she said as he approached. “Unless you’re taking the job, I’m afraid you’re no use to me. Run along, now.”

An Altmer’s arrogance no longer made an impression on Jerric. Besides, she was a little taller. “You might as well move on,” Jerric told her. “I found your friend up at Cloud Top. He’s dead. I gave the book and all those papers to Teekeeus.”

“What?” Earana shrieked, gaining the attention of several passersby. “You gave him the translations? What were you thinking? You don’t know the power you’ve surrendered! And here I thought one of you mercenaries might actually have a brain!”

Jerric started to turn away. She quickly continued in a more reasonable tone. “All right, all right. We can deal with this. You’ll have to get it back, that’s all. You have access to the Mages Guild, don’t you? You should be able to walk right in, find it, and take it. And if you can’t, then break in. I want it back!”

“Uh, no. I’m not going to do that.”

Earana gave him a smug little smile. She began to gesture, her fingers trailing green mist. “Oh, I think you’ll—”

Jerric struck her across the face with the back of his hand. Her sharp cry was cut off by his fist in her belly. Earana slumped to the ground, heaving for breath.

He found himself surrounded by irritated Chorrol Guardsmen. “I’m done,” Jerric said to them. He held his empty hands out to the sides, palms down. “I’ll go with you.”

“Stop! You violated the law!” The florid Imperial sounded personally affronted. Jerric stood still while he caught up with the situation, grateful that this man’s blade was even slower than his mind.

Earana struggled to her feet in a swirl of healing light. Her angry hiss warned off a would-be helper. Two guards flanked Jerric. The third had his eyes on Earana.

“Let’s go,” said the female guard. They headed toward the castle.

“Break the law on my watch, will you?” the first guard continued.

Jerric ignored him. “I’m Jerric,” he said to the woman.

She gave him a look. “Constable Olivera.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Jerric had an uncomfortable moment at the castle when he realized he lacked sufficient funds. A double-check of his pockets produced a coin purse, not his but familiar. He paid the fine.

Halfway back to Great Oak Place, Lildereth appeared at his side. She wore her fur-lined leathers, and her hair was in a scout’s high braid.

“That was neatly done, sprig.” He handed her purse back as they walked. “I guess you saw.”

“You and trouble,” she said. Her voice sounded tight.

Jerric glanced over. “What’s the problem?”

“I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry.”

He stopped while she stood uphill from him, so she wouldn’t have to bend her neck so much. “Quick enough? What were you going to do, shoot an unarmed high elf in front of three guards and half of the town? Before breakfast?” His stomach grumbled.

Lildereth spoke in a rush. “I could have paralyzed her, or made her soil her dress and run away, or even just stand there and drool. But I didn’t do any of those things.”

“Don’t worry, it was probably just a charm spell. And anyway I might have absorbed it.”

“What if it was a frenzy spell? You would have attacked her and then the guards. I don’t have enough magicka to control that many people. They would have cut you down right in front of me!” Lildereth’s eyes were swimming.

“I did attack her. Well, simple battery. It turned out all right.” Jerric took her cold little hand. “Why are you so upset?”

It was a moment before she got the words out. “It happened too fast!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t expecting it!”

Jerric suppressed his eye roll and began to walk again. “You’re not my guardian elf. I appreciate it, but I was getting out of trouble for a long time before we met. Just forget about Earana. There was no harm done.” He glanced over to make sure she was still there. “And thanks for the loan, sprout.”

Lildereth appeared to have pulled herself together.

“Did you just get into Chorrol?” he asked.

She shot him a look that told him not to bother prying.

He changed the subject. “I’m staying at the Grey Mare. Ulfe’s been sleeping at the guild hall.” He spent the rest of the walk filling in the few days’ news.

Lildereth stayed with him as they searched for Darnand. They found him pulverizing dried lavender sprigs in the basement.

The Breton spoke as soon as he saw them. As usual, he did not bother with conventional greetings. “Jerric, you will recall the spell I mentioned last night. I crafted it for you while I was in the Imperial City. I have finally had the opportunity to write it into a scroll.”

“Did you sneak into the Praxographical Center?” Lildereth demanded at the same time Jerric asked, “How did you manage that?”

Darnand ignored their questions. “It has a mild attack on oneself from the Destruction school combined with a brief boost from the school of Mysticism. I intend for you to absorb your own spell. If my calculations are correct, you will experience a net gain of magicka.”

Jerric and Lildereth exchanged a look. Jerric was pleased to see that for once Lildereth was as dumbfounded as he.

“All right,” said Jerric.

Darnand rose, rubbing his palms together. “Excellent. I will retrieve it.” He dashed away and up the stairs.

As much as Jerric wanted to question, tease, and find some crispy bacon, he had a more pressing concern.

“Listen, elf.”

Lildereth gave him an eyebrow. “Yes, human?”

“If you’re still feeling like a poor bodyguard, there’s something you can do for me. You know my enchanted helm? I need you to get it back. It’s at Weynon Priory, probably in the priory house. There’s a secret room upstairs. Behind a cupboard.”

She snorted. “You got arrested at a priory? That has to be some kind of record.”

“No, I, uh, gave it to one of the brothers. Well, he took it. I want it back. I’ll pay you.”

Lildereth’s face darkened with anger. “What a thing for you to say to me! If I wanted your gold, I would already have it! Shen shi nui!”

Fight or flee, Jerric thought. It doesn’t have to make sense. “How should I know what you want?” he shot back. “Hells, you screwed Darnand and now you won’t touch him. He’s still not right about it. Why did you do that to him?”

“You know what that was about,” she snapped. “It could have been anyone. Don’t tell me you’ve never held on to someone just to change what you’re feeling.”

You have no idea, thought Jerric. “What do you want from him, then?” he asked quickly. “From either of us? Why are you with us?” He felt badly for pushing while she was off balance, but since he wasn’t paralyzed in a puddle of piss, it might be working.

She took a few breaths in the way she had of getting past her anger. “I’ll need your help, like I told you. Someday. And… I don’t want to be alone any more. Like you said that night on the Black Road.” She hugged herself around the middle. Her eyes got huge, but there was no lie in them. “This hunt is taking so long. It’s all that I am now. Sometimes I just want to be my old self for a little while.”

It was as if a wild creature was about to touch his hand. Jerric tried to speak gently. “What are you hunting? What is this about, Lildereth?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not ready. I can’t let you know me this way. I’m sorry, Jerric.”

“I guess you’ll let me know when you need my help. I might not be there for you. You know that, right? You should have picked a different Nord.”

Now he saw just how much he could hurt her. “I’ll get your helm back.” Then in a blink, she was gone.

Darnand trotted down the stairs and spoke as if there had been no interruption. “Here is the scroll. Pay attention when you use it, and you will know the spell. It is quite simple, really.” He looked around. “Where is Lildereth?”

Jerric opened the scroll. See how he likes being ignored, he thought.

Darnand held a hand up in warning. “You should know that—”

“So bay few,” Jerric read aloud.

Flames burst into life around his body. Jerric’s involuntary yelp sucked in a lungful of stinking smoke. White light flashed across his eyes as the fire flickered out. His skin remembered burning an instant after Darnand’s spell cooled it. His friend’s panicked face filled his vision. Jerric took a rasping breath. Then Darnand blinked and skipped backward.

Belatedly, Jerric reached for Darnand’s throat, unable to curse through a fit of coughing. The sight of his own hands stopped him. Shirt cuffs hung loose around his wrists, attached to nothing. The skin of his forearms gleamed bald and smooth. Blades, buckles, coins, and keys jingled against the floor. Cloth slumped around his ankles. He looked down.

“By the Nine,” Darnand breathed from a safe distance.

Jerric stood stunned for a moment. Then he lunged for Darnand.

The brief chase up through the guild hall convinced Jerric of the value of attribute-enhancing magic. He stood outside the locked door of Teekeeus’ bedchamber, palms testing the strength of the wood.

“Breton, you are a dead man!”

“You are not harmed,” Darnand said from inside the chamber. Bravado began to overtake the panic in his voice. “I felt it when I healed you, the damage was slight.”

“I’m as bare as a Bosmer!”

“No lasting harm was done.”

Jerric rested his forehead on the door. “What happened? I know you don’t want to kill me.”

“There was a slight chance you would not absorb the spell.”

Jerric’s fists made the panel shake in its frame. “Slight chance! You mother-humper!”

“Calm yourself! At least the spell worked.”

“What? You—” Jerric punched the door again. “Fire! Why did it have to be fire!”

“With your experience, you would receive more magicka than the cost with destruction magic. I am the most familiar with fire.” There was a brief silence, broken only by the air whistling through Jerric’s teeth. “You did not have anything important in your pockets, did you?”

Sixteen hells, thought Jerric. Abiene’s letters. He pushed a shoulder against the door. It felt like a deadbolt. There must be a turn latch on the inside. “You’d better thank the gods I never learned much Alteration!”

Darnand’s tone sounded reasonable, with a hint of terror. “Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

Jerric looked again. He had to admit the results were astonishing. He stepped back and crossed his smooth arms over his hairless chest. “You can come out now. I’m not mad anymore.”

There was another short silence. “I am all right in here, actually. I have some things I need to do. In this chamber.”

“No, it’s fine. Come on out.”

“In a moment. Or… two.”

Jerric slammed his fists against the door. “I will starve you out like a rat!”

“Your pelt will have grown back by then. Nord.”

“That was my cleanest set of clothing!” Jerric considered his options. A flare might spread out of his control. Where did I leave my axe, he wondered.

“Your drawers deserved a cleansing by fire. But I apologize for the rest.”

“I’m going to go get some breakfast.” Jerric thumped a few steps away, then crept back.

“I can hear you breathing. At least go put on some trousers. The thought of you beating me in your present state is beyond disturbing.”

Jerric reached up and tugged the remains of his shirt from around his neck. A narrow black band showed where the flare had stopped. The letters were a loss too painful to think about.

I am yours, she had written. I am yours.

I should have destroyed them to keep her safe, Jerric thought. I owe Darnand my thanks. Still, I'd like to make him bleed a little first.

Teekeeus walked into the common room, took one look, and turned on his heel.

“Wait!” Jerric called as Teekeeus’ tail whisked back around the corner. “We’re nearly finished. Say, do you have the key?”

What is going on with Lildereth? And Jerric's jealousy over her tumble with Darnand needs to be slapped out of him, ROFL !!! I do think Jerric was out of sorts, so was Darnand and Lildereth. They remind me of siblings, all having a bad day at the same time and bouncing off each other in it.

From the activation of the scroll to the end of the chapter I was in hysterics! Just hope alll those letters got burned up, I'd hate to see anyone find them! Awesome, AWESOME chapter !!!!