Powerful stuff indeed. The scene you set for Meridia and your presentation of the Daedra Lord was superb. In fact the whole dream was a perfect setup for what followed. I can only imagine Meridia may have thought saving Kayla from being bound by child to such a foolish jerk may have been part of her thinking. Yet, it is so harsh to Kayla as well. Who can fathom the ways of Daedra Lords?

Speaking of Onmund, Lydia was the only one acting like a man is this episode. I confess I was glad to see her punch Onmund in the mouth.

All opinions of course, but I agree with you on the lore described by Berenziah that elves are lucky to produce more than one to three children in a lifetime and why it is so. In Buffy’s world, not only do elves have trouble conceiving, but they have a semiannual cycle of fertility rather than a human’s monthly one. At least they have several centuries to keep trying though instead of a few brief decades. Elven children are hard to create and, and no less demanding once born.

Nits -
’ The Skyrim sun bgan to set,'
began
"No sense in dwelling on has happened.”
I think you want a ‘what’ after ‘on’.

Bahahaha!

As for the elven lore, I really had nothing else to go on. I felt that the Berenziah books offered as good as a place as any to base my assumptions on. The semi-annual cycles make more sense than monthly ones as well (lucky jerks) but I wasn't going to touch on that subject, lol.



Gahh! Frustration. SO close!

Yep, this must have been a tough chapter to go through with Kayla. Her emotions felt real and very moving. Onmund’s further betrayal was a stunning twist. I was expecting him to be contrite like Hroggar. Yay for Lydia and the mouth-punching!

Blimey... ...That was heavy...

Yes, I can definately understand why it was difficult to write...I also know it's a difficult thing to write well, but bloody hell, you definately did write it well...*Applauds*...

Every part of this, the fight, the sadness, the despair and self-pity of Onmund (men are not that bad!!...Oh, wait... )...Everything was - in a sense - excellent...

Did I mention I enjoyed this chapter?... ...(In the best way though, I was saddened by her loss and angry with Onmund of course.)...

Brilliant stuff!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Jan 15 2013, 07:32 AM

Alright, so this chapter is going to be set into either 2 or three parts. Not sure yet. I've been working almost nonstop on this chapter and due to my excitability, I'm now like 6 chapters ahead, lol!!!

It's also a bit short, but I had to hack off some content and place it elsewhere until I know what to do with it.

I appreciate everyone's input and encouragement. Like I mentioned to Acadian, I like that it's a constructive type of criticism and not outright "YOU SUCK" like on most forums.

Anyways, enjoy!

CHAPTER 10.1

Over the next few weeks, Lydia kept close to me. When night terrors had me keening like a wounded Khajiit, she would crawl into bed with me and sing to me in a soft voice. I often awoke with her next to me, stroking my forehead to keep me calm. When Onmund came by, she would send him away and tell him I wasn't ready for him. She didn't tell me how I got home, and I didn't ask. I didn't care.

Around dusk on Middas I got up and put clothes on. Lydia raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. She watched me, wordlessly, as I pulled an unassuming brown dress over my head and stepped into modest shoes. I braided my auburn hair down my back, grabbed a small coin-purse, and headed out the door.

She followed behind me in silence as I marched up to Arcadia's Cauldron and went in. The medley of smells would assault the nose of someone with no alchemy training, but I could pick out the warm fragrance of flowers, the earthy scent of roots, and the pungent odors of frost salts, vampire ashes, and other dried ingredients. Arcadia's eyes widened with surprise and what I read as delight. She hardly ever got customers, unless it was myself or the occasional traveler.

"Kayla," she greeted me warmly. "I'm so glad to see you feeling better!"

I attempted a smile, knowing I looked like death warmed over. "Thank you, Arcadia. I was wondering if you had any Canis Root?"

Arcadia kept her smile, but her weathered face took on a confused expression. "What would you need Canis Root for?"

"Just to keep my focus while in battle. It's the last ingredient I need, and I haven't been out and about to get some myself." She reluctantly handed me some. "Is it fresh?" I sniffed the root, the earthy smell not quite gone from it. A few grains of dirt fell from the folded cloth she handed over to me. The root felt familiar and slightly weighty in my hands.

"It's as fresh as I can afford. Business hasn't been doing as well since you've been out of commission." She leaned some of her weight on one leg. "So... how have you been feeling? I heard-"

"About my run-in with the vampires? It's alright, I just needed time to heal." I heard Lydia shift her weight in her armor behind me. "That's why I need these ingredients. I'll also need Imp Stool for my health potion."

Arcadia handed me the Imp Stool. "Anything else?"

I shook my head. "I think this will be all. I need to get back into the feel of things. It's been weeks since I've concocted a potion." I held out my hands. "I don't even have stains anymore!" My laugh was stiff and bounced off the wooden walls awkwardly.

"You know, if you want to talk about..." I raised my eyebrow, and she finished, "The vampires, I'm always here. I've had two 'vampire' experiences myself. It's why I gave up on ever..." She trailed off when she noticed that I was glaring at her. "I know what it's like to lose something. Especially something you've hoped for."

"Thank you," I said icily and turned on my heel. Lydia followed me out the door before I slammed it. "How does she know about...?" I trailed off, fighting tears. Lydia sighed.

"Well," she began. "Your husband has made that the sole reason for his drinking. And once Nord men start drinking, it's hard for them to stop." She peered up at me. I stood almost an entire head above her. Or I would have, if I was standing up straight. I averted my eyes, my throat constricting.

"I know," I coughed out the words unintentionally, then cleared my throat. "You forget that I was raised by Nords."

Lydia half-smiled. "I remember the day you walked in and warned us about the dragons. I've never heard a High Elf speak with a Nordic accent before."

I laughed. "You should tag along next time I meet another Altmer. The look of surprise on their faces!" We began to laugh hysterically outside of Arcadia's Cauldron. It was the first time I've laughed since stepping off the carriage in Morthal.


~~~~~~~~~~~


The next morning I awoke alone in my bed. Not having any night terrors, Lydia let me sleep on my own. I poked my flat belly and realized I was getting soft. I felt a brief pang of sadness and a ghost of movement. I pushed it out of my mind and began to dress.

I began to think of where I could go next. I would probably never return to Morthal. Being alive, and Onmund being alive means Movarth's plans never came to fruition and the town isn't cattle. I glanced at the stack of letters on my nightstand as I laced a boot up. All of them opened, all of them addressed to me. I picked up the top one and read it.

"Kayla,

You have my thanks for saving my Hold from the ancient vampire. You are welcome anytime.

-Jarl Idgrod"

Hmmph. I opened another one, and saw it was from Mjoll the Lioness in Riften.

"Kayla,

Mjoll wanted me to send you a letter asking for your help. She remembered that you had mentioned adventuring when you passed through Riften the day Grelod the Kind passed away. Since you did not journey back here like you mentioned, she wanted me to remind you of your promise to retrieve Grimsever.

On a side note, I hope that you can retrieve her sword for her. Mjoll is the most important person in my life, and I want her happy.

Sincerely,
Mjoll and Aerin"

I set the letter aside. Riften. Though Mjoll mentioned her sword several times during my visit, I was busy dealing with, uh...

The rest were nonsense letters from nonsense people. A museum in Dawnstar, a letter announcing a shop opening in Solitude in honor of Jester's Day, even though we are still in First Seed. A love letter from Erik the Slayer. I suppose I should tell him I'm married now, I mused.

I met Erik the Slayer when he was still Erik Hoe-Pusher. His red tresses breathed fire into the air and into my body. The definition in his arms told me he had years of hard work under him, as well as the scars on his arms and calluses when he pressed his hands on the bar. I overheard him talking to his father, begging and pleading with him to allow him to become an adventurer.

I sidled up beside him and offered to train him. He looked like he was going to take me up on it, until he got a look at me. He looked shocked at first, then displeased. As Lydia said, my Nordic accent is astonishing to most, especially considering how thick it is.

"Is this a joke?" He sneered. "I'll wait for a real adventurer to come along."

I narrowed my eyes and said nothing. Even if I was physically attracted to him, his attitude towards my being Altmer disgusted me. I spun on my heel and walked to my room. Rorikstead might have a few pleasant inhabitants, but my time there would be short enough.

Before I could get too much farther into the reverie, I heard Lydia shift in her room. That reminded me that I still needed to brew my potion. I looked at my woefully unstained hands and took the ingredients I had bought from Arcadia to the room beneath the stairs. As the burners heated up, I ground the ingredients. A little water softened up the root to make a decent paste while steeping the mushrooms in hot water and straining them let their essence transfer to the water. The final ingredient was swamp fungal pod. I had Lydia pick it up earlier this week, but I didn't tell her what is was for. She gets really antsy about alchemy.

This poison was going to really stink, but it would be effective. The earthy smell was going to combine with the wet, moldy scent, making my poison smell close to a rancid pond. After crushing it to a pulp, I added all of the ingredients together and lowered the temperature on the burner. The liquid began taking on an odd color, both green and brown. They mixed together to make an awful color, one I could never mistake for any other poison.

Paralyze.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jan 16 2013, 09:58 PM

What's Kayla going to do with a paralyzation potion? Or did she accidentlly make it.

My suspicion meter is up to 10 right now, and something tells me onmund is going to be at the wrong end of a blade.....

She didn't accidentally make it, she has something particular in mind. (hopefully to be used on Onmund before she punches him in the mouth).

I really enjoyed this update!

The encounter with Arcadia (nope, she's not my sister, lol) effectively reminded us of Kayla’s alchemical skill while displaying her lingering bittersweet sense of loss. Nevertheless, it was good to see her out and even making plans.

I enjoyed Kayla’s running commentary as she sifted through the letters. I’m also glad she took the time to linger a moment and tell us a little about this:
‘I met Erik the Slayer when he was still Erik Hoe-Pusher.’

The alchemy session felt very immersive. I could smell the odors and almost hear the liquids bubbling along. Paralyze. Wow, can’t wait to see what her plans for that are!

Nits -
‘I braided in my hair in a simple braid,’
Two concerns here. Objectively, the first ‘in’ seems like a redundant oversight? Subjectively, I recommend avoiding repetition of the same word (braid in this case) in close proximity. The more distinctive the word, the more this applies.

‘I sniffed the root, the earthy smell not quite gone from it. a few grains of dirt fell from the folded cloth she handed over to me.’
You want to capitalize the ‘a’ that begins the second sentence here of course.

‘...and callouses when he pressed his hands on the bar.‘
Callus and callous can be confused easily enough. Here, you want calluses.

‘...and took the ingredients I had bought from Arcadia the the room beneath the stairs.’
Rather than ‘the the’ here, I’m sure you meant ‘to the’.

-shakes fist at my editing method- Acadian, how about you edit my chapters before I post them? XD I fixed them.

She absolutely meant to make that potion. mALX, stop giving my plot away!

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jan 16 2013, 09:58 PM

I apologize for the amount of content in this chapter. I ended up completely re-writing the chapter until it felt right, which rendered what I had previously written useless. I put in a break as soon as possible, but it's way down there. So again, my apologies.

Where we are: Kayla's first day out since losing her child and healing from Movarth's attack. She had gone to Arcadia's Cauldron and made a Paralyze potion.




CHAPTER 10.2


I heard a faint knock on the front door, and heard Lydia stir from her sleep, but she didn't get up. I walked out of the alchemy room to open the front door when it squeaked open slightly. Onmund peeked his face through. He was cleaner than the last time I had seen him. I noted the bruised cheek and mending lip. My heart began to pound harder than a bard's drum. I didn't know if I felt anger or fear. I decided to act on the anger part.

"What are you doing here?" I spat, shaking. "Are you here to insult me some more? Make sure I'm dead so you can take my money? Blame me for killing my child?" I glanced at his busted lip. "And why haven't you gotten that healed? Are you trying to catch a disease?"

Onmund slipped inside and closed the door. "Our child," he said, ignoring the rest of what I said. His normal attire was odd to me. I was so used to him in his warm mage's robes that I forgot how well a plain set of clothing fit him. I wanted to close the cruel distance between us and embrace him. Images of Alva's lips on his kept me where I was.

I felt tears begin to form in my eyes. "Yes, our child," I took in a deep breath, my anger a heavy stone in my gut. "A child WE made TOGETHER. Something that didn't seem to matter to you when you were with-"

"Don't say it!" Onmund shouted. "I know what I did!" Onmund put his face in his hands and took in a sharp breath and let it out. Then another, and another.

"Are you...crying?!" I asked incredulously. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, which were swollen while his nose was tipped in red.

"You ARE crying!"

"Because this has affected me too! Kayla, what you don't seem to understand is that I am a human who makes human mistakes! All I want you to know is, whether you decide to let me back in or not, not all of the things I did were my fault, and the things I did do were despicable."

His green eyes locked onto my own eyes and he took a step forward. "Has Lydia, or anyone, told you what happened?"

"No, and I don't want to kn-"

"Yes you do. You want to know why I treated you how I did, and how you got back here. And I'm going to tell you." He glanced behind me, and when I turned around I saw Lydia standing at the top of the stairs, watching. She crossed her arms over her chest and was waiting for Onmund to either explain or for me to tell her I wanted him out. She was unarmored, but not unarmed.

"I'm listening." I sat down and waited for him to explain. He took his old chair next to me, and that angered me a bit more. He's sitting there like he belongs here! Like nothing happened! I need to calm down. He faced me and leaned forward so I could hear him.

"Alva was-" I felt my nostrils flare at her name, "-the first woman besides you who has ever given me the time of day." I heard Lydia bark a short laugh, and Onmund shot her a look. I felt insulted at this statement, and I knew my face showed it.

"It's a terrible excuse, I know, but... Kayla, you are my first everything. My first sweetheart, my first kiss, the first woman I've lain with. I began to think that maybe, in some way, I am undesirable. It frustrated me." I stared at him. I wanted to take his face in my hands and stroke his stubble again. How can I be so angry at him, so hurt, yet still want to comfort him? To comfort myself with him?

"You stupid man," I heard Lydia murmur. Onmund ignored her.

"At first, with Alva, it was flirting. I enjoyed it. I knew she was just flirting, but it made me feel... different. Like how a rooster struts about in the yard, or how Mikael acts after he beds a woman."

The image of Mikael walking out of a room at the inn like he owned the place gave me a bit more insight than the rooster analogy. His blonde head bobbed in the same proud way, and he did seem to strut a bit, if not a bit wobbly. But there was more than the simple act of mating to keep the species going. Mikael did it for the conquest. For the chase. For bragging rights.

"You know I like to kick roosters. And Mikael."

Onmund was silent for a second. He stared into the cooking fire as he continued.

"I genuinely thought she was going to let me go to sleep after an hour. But we talked for so long, and before I knew it, she leaned over and kissed me. It felt...strange. I can't explain..."

"Like your mind went numb, and you had no focus or thoughts for anything else but her?"

Onmund looked surprised. "Yes! And she whispered to me that she would be back for me the next night, and to not let you touch me. Before I realized what I was doing, I was writing you a letter. I can't remember what it said."

"Neither can I," I lied. I felt relieved that Onmund wasn't acting entirely on his own. What he did act on...

I leaned back in my chair and studied his face. The tears were real. The emotion behind them was questionable. In my life, I've been with a lot of human men. Onmund wasn't the first male I've seen cry. He wasn't the first one to betray me for another woman either. He was, however, the one I expected the least. He began to look uneasy under my glare and shifted in his seat.

"I said some horrible things to you, Kayla. I didn't mean any of them."

"Yes, you did." Onmund flinched. I sat rigid in my chair. Time to take responsibility for my part in this. "You begged me to take you on an adventure, to treat you like a partner instead of a pet-"

"Kayla-"

"-and what did I do? I took you to Morthal. I thought it was safe, and secure, and boring. I thought you would insist on a carriage back home or stay at the inn. I didn't think there would be an ancient vampire plotting to enslave another town."

If Onmund caught my indiscretion, he showed no knowledge of it. Instead, he took one of my hands in his. His mossy green eyes locked onto mine once again. I began to cry.

He pulled me in a tight hug. I could smell the earthy musk he used. My favorite scent of his.

As we pulled away, he brushed away my tears with a thumb, and then lowered his hand so as to firmly hold on to both of mine. He allowed a few tears of his own to fall before he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Vampire magick. It was all vampire magick. The most hurtful parts, anways.

We sat like that for a few moments before I shakily asked how I got back. It turned out that Thonnir followed me to the cave and saw me give Onmund the last Cure Disease potion. He tossed Onmund his own healing potion and went on to kill the remaining three vampires, Alva included. Onmund said he came back with her head. That struck me as odd, since vampires usually turn to ash when slain. I supposed she wasn't old enough quite yet. Thonnir tossed the head onto the cave floor and helped Onmund carry my body out.

Onmund was not skilled in Restoration, this I knew for a fact because while in the College, he would make fun of Colette Marence, the Restoration teacher. He said her voice made him want to gouge his ears out, and she would just torture him by healing them and speaking again. Thonnir carried me back to Morthal, followed by Onmund and learned no one was skilled in Restoration. At my incredulous face, Onmund shrugged and said "That's Nords for you."

Onmund bought as many healing potions as he could afford and kept me alive until the carriage brought us back to Whiterun to Danica. This is where Danica healed me and informed Onmund that I had lost a child. He began to look ashamed at this point. He walked to the Bannered Mare and drank himself into a stupor for the entire length of my recovery. He said he remembered sending Lydia home one evening, and then woke up with a split lip and bruised cheek in his room at the inn.

"And you deserved it," Lydia called from the top of the stairs. Both Onmund and I jumped, having completely forgotten about her.

Onmund's head dropped. "I know," he conceded. "I can sit here and give off a thousand reason as to why I did it, but none of them would justify my behavior nor make it right." He looked me in the eyes again. "I can only hope that you'll forgive me and let me come back. It should have been me comforting you, not Lydia."

My instincts told me he was sincere, but my angry heart said to make him suffer. I figured he had suffered enough, but wasn't sure how I felt about the situation. Things wouldn't be the same. The things he said... eventually I would forgive him, but in the meantime, I would have to put aside a lot of hurt to have him here. His actions with Alva weren't entirely his own, but afterwards?

"You... can come back," I began, and Onmund looked relieved. "But I'm going on another trip. To Riften. Remember when we got married at the temple there?" Onmund nodded. "I met a woman there, Mjoll the Lioness, who said she needed help with something." I took a deep breath before continuing. "Just let me take this trip, let me think about a few things, and when I come back, I'll make my decision on whether..." I trailed off, and Onmund's eyebrows went up.

"On whether you'll take me back for good?"

"Pretty much," I sighed.

He was silent for a moment. He scooted off the end of his chair and kneeled in front of me. Taking my hand in his, he squeezed my much-smaller hands in his larger, paler hands. He looked up at me, slightly squinted his eyes and pursed his lips. He lifted his eyebrows in a sincere manner.

"Kayla-"

"Are you using the puppy-dog look on me? That isn't fair!"

"Kayla, I don't want you traveling alone, and I don't want to be stuck here. If you could take me with you-"

"Because that turned out so well last time?!"

Onmund looked hurt. "Kayla, that's not fair."

I shook my head. "No, after what happened? No! I can't have you getting right back into danger!"

"So, what? Am I supposed to stay here and continue to be your househusband? That is what got us into this situation!"

"No! I almost lost you!"

"And I almost lost YOU!" Onmund surprised all of us with that outburst. I shrank back in my chair. I had never heard him yell at me like that. He crossed his arms and stood up and began to pace.

"You come home, armor covered in blood, reeking of death and mold, sometimes half dead. Gods know what you face every time you step out that door, what type of people you encounter! And you expect me to just sit right there-" He pointed to his chair, "and wait for you, with my thumb up my-"

"Stop," I pleaded. I dug my nails into the chair. Onmund's face became increasingly red until I thought his head was going to pop off.

"And EXPECT me to just be alright with whatever you're doing, whoever you're with, and not say a word? No. I can't do it anymore, Kayla." He plopped back into his chair, holding his head in his hands. I was completely stunned. Lydia was shocked into silence as well, and made no sound.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He asked me. I couldn't answer. I couldn't even look at him. I stared holes into the floor.

Onmund stood up slowly, sighing. "If you're not going to answer me, then we have nothing to discuss." He turned towards the stairs, glanced up at Lydia, then turned back towards me.

"Could you tell your housecarl to move so I can get my things?"

I nodded my eyes through the tears that fell freely from my eyes. Lydia stepped aside, but not enough to where Onmund could slip by easily. She glared at him, her mouth pulled back in what looked like a snarl. She watched him gather his things while I could only sit there, my eyes running like a stream of shock and despair.

"Onmund... please..." I began to sob. My hands shook as I bent my head forward and clutched my hair.

Onmund came down with an armful of his things; A staff of fire, a small bag of clothes, and his own coinpurse of septims. He turned to look at me before he opened the door, but I didn't look up at him.I stared at the floor, wishing it, willing it, to open up and swallow me whole. He closed the door quietly behind him.

Lydia stood walked down the steps and stood behind me. She put her hand on my shoulder for a moment. When I didn't move and continued to bawl, she patted my shoulder and walked outside. After a few moments I lost the energy to cry and sat there in silence. The gaping chasm in my chest threatened to pull me in and devour me.

You cannot have this...

I cursed the being that wrote my destiny with every ounce of will I could muster up.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jan 20 2013, 04:31 PM

I still think Onmund is a complete [censored], but its a relief to know that he was drunk when he came and insulted Kayla. Maybe he didn't mean it.

I liked your little ‘Where we are’ summary at the beginning. Very helpful to put the reader right back into Kayla’s situation.

Wow. This was powerfully written, with subtle details that fully displayed the raw emotions on display here. To even considering forgiving Onmund was an uphill battle without making Kayla appear a willing doormat – but you absolutely did it! I found myself right inside her head, reluctantly agreeing with her own turbulent, loving confusion.

What appeared to be the seeds for accepting Onmund back then quickly turned as he made the demand to go with her. A demand that I hate to admit had some merit.

Tying the very end right back to Meridia was chilling.

The unpredictable realism, without fairy tale pretense, that you brought to this episode was wonderful. Well done!

It absolutely has merit. I find it to be a simple request, but Kayla doesn't. She thinks if she can keep Onmund in that house, he'll be safe. She got a rude awakening when she realized that dangers exist even within city walls. Things are spiraling out of her control, and she doesn't like that.

That is Lydia's perpetual look, it scared me too.


I'm glad she let him leave though. His excuse for why he dallied with Alva was flimsy and self-serving. The fact that he wanted to blame Kayla for his weakness made him even less of a man.

Kayla's calling all the shots for Onmund's life and thinking she had to "protect Onmund" from danger - that would be un-manning to any male, but the fact that Onmund let her do it shows he wasn't living up to his testosterone anyway.

What I love here is that you have given us real flawed characters to work with, so we can see how life shapes them to overcome those flaws. Loving this story so far! Awesome Write!

Blimey...You really are on a roll with this emotional wringing aren't you?... ...

That was brilliantly done...Espescially as to make both parties' points valid and fair...Even if they're not to the characters...

Blasted Deadra... ...

Aaaamywho, please continue to drag my emotions through the shredder... ...

Ummm...I'm probably wrong in this, but this bit looks slightly eye watering...Although it is still early over here, so that may just be it...



I know what it is that it's saying...I can picture it as if it were on tele...But to read it like that, as it is there...Makes me picture him with three hands for some reason...

Dunno, reading it again...Mayde this would have made it clearer for me...



I dunno...I'm not one to talk... ...

Aaaamywho...

Loved it much muchly...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Huh? I've dated guys that seemed to have eight arms before...

You dated Doctor Octopus?!!

Yes, him and Squidward Tentacles:

-snort!- Same here, mALX, but it was never during a comforting moment...

I'll fix it, Mcbadgere. Your way makes more sense to me as well.

I'm glad everyone is seeing what I'm trying to put across! I don't like perfect characters with no insecurities or flaws, romances that always end well, especially the "We were meant to be! -slobbers all over face-" romances. Blech. what I hate most is a hero who always overcomes what they're faced with with ease.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jan 20 2013, 04:41 PM

I feel the exact same way about "perfect" characters. Flaws make the character so much more interesting and endearing. And I agree 100% on squishy gooey romances, much rather see them drawn together through time or adversity myself.

You are doing an excellent job!