Teresa of the Faint Smile, Adventures of a Stringy Bosmer Options

[SubRosa]

Hi all, welcome to Teresa 2.0. Some of you may recognize the stringy wood elf this fan fic is about from another forum. I am going to start reposting her adventures here. However, I have taken this opportunity
for a fresh start to go back over the story and do some work on it. Starting with an entirely new scene, which you see below.

I have decided to give up the idea of breaking things up into separate Acts like I did with Not A Hero and Moving Through Darkness. It was probably a little confusing. Instead I am just going to go with a single title and let it go on as long as it needs to, hence the new name.

You will also find that the first half of what used to be called Not A Hero has been heavily edited. Hopefully an improvement! The rest of the story will also receive a facelift, although generally not as great. There will probably be a few more entirely new chapters turning up between some of the old ones as well. So this is not the same story you might have seen on the other forum.


For people new to the TF, you might find it easier to catch up with the cliff notes version in the spoiler tags below:




* * *

Chapter 1 –Warning

12th Second Seed, 3E433

The harsh croaking of a raven prompted Teresa to raise her green eyes from the only slightly bruised apple that she was eating. The alley behind the Tiber Septim Hotel was narrow, a thin gouge cut between massive stone buildings that loomed high to either side and cast its depths into dim shadow. Sacks filled with trash dotted the length of the lane, clustered in small islands near the back doors of every business and home.

The pale wood elf stood at one such mound of garbage, filled with slops and other castoffs. Rich people threw away the best food, she knew, making the back streets here in the Talos Plaza district a practical gold mine for street urchins like herself.

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Her scavenged lunch fell from suddenly nerveless fingers however, as she gazed down the alley and saw the figure of a man running in the shadows. He was clad in plain linens, the clothing of an ordinary plebeian. But there was nothing ordinary about the way he held a drawn sword in his hand, nor the blood that stained it.

Before the elf could bolt and run herself, the interloper was upon her. Now she could see he was an Imperial by his olive skin and dark hair. He reached out to her with his free hand, and as Teresa backed away she realized that it was not only his sword that was washed in blood, but the front of his tunic as well.

"You must warn them!" the Imperial croaked through the blood that flowed from his mouth. As she stared with wide eyes, Teresa was certain she could see tiny bubbles of air bursting up from the red flow. She had seen that before, from deep knife wounds to the chest. He was a dead man, she thought, he just did not know it yet.

His hand clutched at the shabby tunic of worn sack cloth that Teresa wore, grabbing a handful of the rough material. Teresa nearly jumped as his fingers pressed against one of her breasts. The sword fell from his other hand with a clatter of steel on stone, and the Imperial dropped to his knees, collapsing into her.

Teresa stared with wide eyes at the dying man, whose head was now buried in the valley between her small breasts. Her heart raced like a wild horse, and she felt her skin grow cold as Skyrim. Try as she might to flee, her feet seemed rooted to the spot however. All she could do was gape in growing horror as the man clutched at her willowy frame and spat blood over her already bedraggled clothing.

The sound of footsteps caused her to lift her eyes and gaze back down the way the Imperial had come. There stood a handful of figures wearing dark red robes, nearly black in the dim light. Hoods of the same material covered their heads, shrouding their faces in darkness. She saw blades in their hands as well. Not mortal steel, but rather monstrous, wavy knives, like the jagged teeth of some fearsome Daedra.

"They're going to kill the-" with that the Imperial's voice gave out, and she heard a rattling noise issue from his throat. It was like a dry breeze through an abandoned tenement. Then he fell limp at her feet, open eyes staring blankly back up at her from the pavement.

"Hey, what's going on back there!" came an iron growl from the other end of the alley. The clash of armored boots rang out between the high buildings, reverberating in the Bosmer's ears. Wrenching her gaze from the dead man, Teresa turned to see an Imperial Watchman charging down the alley toward her, dark eyes glittering like polished ebony within the 'T'-shaped slit in his full-faced helmet.

"You there! Put down your weapons and surrender." The legionary had his arming sword out now, and before the wood elf knew it, he was standing before her. He took a moment to first glance down at the dead man at Teresa's feet, and then the blood that washed her tunic.

"I didn't-" Teresa gasped, feeling her blood turn to ice with the understanding of how things must look to the watchman. Then the steel gauntlet of his left hand was reaching out for her, and the words slipped from her throat.

"You'll hang for this street meat!" the legionary growled.

With that Teresa finally felt her body come back under her control. Twisting away from watchman's grasp, she sprang for the other end of the alley. Her eyes saw that the red-robed figures were gone now. Then her view swam as her foot caught upon the corpse of the Imperial. She felt herself falling, and her head slammed against something hard as she came to a stop.

Her vision narrowed, as if she were within a tunnel. She was vaguely aware of the thin, blue slit of the sky above her, flanked by the grey stone of buildings to either side. She thought she saw a dark bird spread its wings in that sliver of light. But then the shape dissolved, and turned into the steel helmet of the legionary, looming closer and closer. Finally, darkness consumed her.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:31 AM

[SubRosa]

treydog: I hope it will be interesting for those people who have read it before.

Thank you for using that doggie nose to sniff out Teresa's shivering. Fixed.


canis216: Thank you for the kind words my canid friend. And for eyeing out that unnecessary paleness.

A year ago I wrote this little piece as an experiment to see just how little description I could use and still keep a story moving, instead using dialogue to both describe and move the plot along.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Disruptions un-disrupted.


Olen: Thank you Olen.


Destri Melarg: I am glad that Teresa's reasons for being in the prison work better this time. Aside from wanting to start with some action, the other reason I wrote the prologue was to try to put some depth into her being in prison. That it all feels like an uncanny coincidence is perfect. That is what I was hoping for, without being too heavy handed.


minque: It's Serene's mother!

Digging deep into Teresa's head is probably what I am best at. Really, the focus of my writing is to show her from the inside, so people can see how events change her.


Jacki Dice: It is never too late, my favorite black rose girl. I am glad you liked the new start.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf (I always think White Wolf when I see your name, thanks to years of playing Vampire: The Masquerade - the tabletop rpg, not the comp game. That and reading Elric stories).

I am glad you liked the change-up in Valen Dreth's dialogue. I was sorely tempted to remove all of it that came from the game, and make it 100% original. But I just could not resist the homage to the game that inspired all of this.


Remko: Thank you Remko. I am glad the new beginning worked for you as well. I hope the rest of the old tale will still be entertaining the second time around.

* * *

Chapter 2b - On The Wings Of Ravens


Teresa stood there and tried to understand what she had just seen. She stared down the open passageway as the sound of their boots faded into the distance. What in Tamriel was going on? she wondered. First a man dies at her feet, and then she meets the Emperor! Was this all a mad dream?

Dream or not, the secret passage was her only chance out of the cell. In the end that was all that Teresa really needed to know. Shadow hide me, she thought. Then she moved down the darkened passage, trying as best she could not to make a sound.

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At first it was nothing more than a tunnel roughly hewn through the ground, sloping ever downward. But soon it let out into an area of dusty stone chambers and passageways. Unlike the massive rectangular blocks of stone which fit perfectly together that she was used to seeing in the city above, the walls here were of smaller rocks of varying sizes, and held together by crumbling mortar. An aura of great age hung over the area like a shroud, only reinforced by the stale, dusty air that choked the Bosmer's throat. The place seemed empty and dead to her eyes, like a long abandoned tomb.

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The ring of steel on steel came to Teresa's ears from somewhere ahead, along with the yell of angry voices. The wood elf stopped in the darkness for a moment. It seemed distant, so she moved forward again, but more quietly and purposely than before. She wanted to know what was happening, but did not want anyone seeing her doing it.

Soon enough she was able to glimpse dark figures struggling in a large chamber in front of her. It was the Blades she had seen before, their curved swords flashing in the air against an unseen foe. A single, smaller figure hung back, holding a straight-bladed sword in his hand. The Emperor, Teresa guessed.

Whoever the enemy was, the bodyguards drove them off. She heard them say something about losing someone, and they seemed to be standing around a body for a moment. Then they moved on down the passage in haste.

Teresa followed more slowly. She felt for the magicka within her, and concentrated on the symbol of her Flare spell. Not for the first time, she thanked the magician who had taught it to her. Until now she had only used it on mud crabs. She hoped she would not need it for anything else…

She found that it was the Breton they had been talking about losing, for her body lay sprawled on the chamber floor. Teresa bent to take her weapon, but found that her sword was gone. One of the other Blades must have taken it, she thought.

Looking at the other bodies in the room, she found they were mortals. Her blood froze when she saw that they were clad in red-hooded robes. The same as she had seen in the alley! she thought. They were what the dying Imperial had been trying to warn her about! Who had he been? she wondered, a Blade in disguise? Or perhaps some poor nobody like herself who had just been swept up in the midst of this terrible storm?

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She reached for their weapons, but strangely she saw none in their dead hands or on the floor nearby. Yet she could have sworn that the figures she had seen had been armed, not only here, but in the alley...

She continued to follow through the empty passages, being sure to keep her distance from the Emperor and his guards. Several more times she heard the sound of combat ahead, and waited until it had passed before moving forward again. Each time she came upon more of the red-robed bodies.

Thankfully the Emperor and his bodyguards were winning, she thought, at least for the most part. She was not sure why that comforted her. It was not like Emperors meant anything to a street rat like herself. One was no different than another, all in their lofty tower far removed from the dark alleys where people like her struggled every day to survive.

Yet somehow, he was different, Teresa knew deep in her heart. She could still see his blue eyes gleaming in her mind's eye, burning to the very core of her being. It was a light that somehow warmed her with even just its memory, as if its fire somehow burned away the darkness that closed in from all sides.

Teresa shook her head and continued moving forward. Stop being gullible, she thought to herself. He was the Emperor, and she was nothing but a lowly prole. Even if he did know her name...

Teresa began to think that she was sneaking with the silence and grace of The Grey Fox as she shadowed them. That was until she came around a corner to find the Redguard standing over her with his curved sword ready to fall.

"Eeep!" Teresa squealed, and fell on her backside as she tried to jump away. The Blade just stood there with a look of disgust on his face, and lowered his weapon.

"It's just that Bosmer following us," he spat, not taking his eyes off Teresa, "not the assassins."

"We should kill her," the other Blade insisted. "She might be part of the plot."

"Nonsense!" the Emperor declared. Teresa would swear that his voice could level mountains. "Bring her here Baurus."

The Redguard reached out with his free hand, and without showing the merest trace of effort grabbed Teresa's sack cloth tunic and pulled her to her feet. Then grasping her arm in that iron grip, he walked her to where the Emperor of Tamriel waited.

"My path will soon end Teresa," the Emperor said to her, his voice now quieter and less overwhelming. "I have seen it in the stars, and in my dreams. But your path will go on. I know that you have an important part to play in this."

"I...um....I...." Teresa stammered, feeling like an idiot, then finally got her tongue to work. "I'm just a prole. There is nothing I can do."

"You have no idea what you can do," the Emperor said with a quiet smile. "But I do."

"There was a man today, an Imperial" she blurted out, keenly aware of how everyone was looking at her. "He died in front of me. He said they were going to try to kill someone. I didn't know…"

"Cnaeus!" the Redguard spat, "the legion found him this afternoon." The leather of the Blade's gauntlet creaked as he tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned to Teresa. "You're in here for that!"

"It was the Red Robes!" the wood elf exclaimed, feeling her heart double its pace as she realized the Redguard was just an instant away from killing her, Emperor or not. "They stabbed him, with strange knives. They were chasing him. I didn't do it!"

"That is right, she did not kill Cnaeus," the Emperor said, turning to look at Baurus. His voice was soft, yet somehow reverberated through Teresa more clearly than a shout. As if it were somehow laden with steel. "She will come with us from now on," the old man continued, "now let us move on."

"Make yourself useful and carry this torch," Baurus said, releasing his grip on her arm and passing her the flaming brand that the last Blade held. "I do not know what the Emperor sees in you, but if he believes in you, that is good enough for me."

Teresa followed along, now part of Emperor Uriel Septim's entourage. Part of his bodyguard, she mentally corrected herself. Me, she thought, an orphan from the street, protecting the Emperor from assassins. Wait until she told Simplicia about this! she thought. The old woman would never believe it!

Her hand shook as she held the torch aloft to light their path. But she moved ahead nonetheless. The Emperor commanded it, and as much as she hated the legion, Teresa suddenly realized that she would do anything that man asked of her. He had a strange power. He did not make her feel afraid, as the soldiers did. Rather he made her feel..., something she could not explain, even to herself. She only knew that he was like no man she had ever met, or likely ever would again.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:32 AM