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]

haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r., those were the sorts of things I was going for. The realization of change, the sense that the IC was no longer home, and the little details that I hoped would bring the reality of living in the gutter to life.

I just finished writing Chapter 7 (which is all new material btw.) with Joseph Campbell's Hero's Quest very clearly in mind (along with Heart of Darkness, but I blame Olen for that... ). Then I looked back and realized that Chapters 1-6 mirrored the Hero's Journey to a tee, all without any conscious effort on my part to do so. It has the call to adventure, which was quite unwilling on Teresa's part (but not unusual in the cycle), the journey to strange, magical places (the prison, sewer, and wilderness), meeting both the goddess figure (in this case her spirit guide), and the god figure (the emperor), obstacles that were overcome, and a final return to where she came from, only now forever changed by the process with the gift of personal insight that she never possessed before.


Remko: Thank you Remko. This chapter is all about that realization of change, as well as an introduction to the people who have been a regular part of Teresa's life.


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. I was thinking exactly the same thing about Baurus. I can see him like James Earl Jones in Hunt For Red October (the movie, never read the book), telling the Naval gunnery officer that the torpedo never self-destructed, and that in fact he was never even there...

I am glad you liked the depth I tried to put into the Waterfront as well. In the TF the Imperial Legion does not go past the stone buildings along the docks. Once you get into the shantytown, it is a no-man's land. Basically, the Empire has divested itself of the people there, and tries to pretend they do not even exist. With such an environment of hopelessness I can see a particularly ugly strain of criminals constantly on the rise, with nothing to look forward to and nothing to lose. Kill one, and there is always another to take their place.

The Thieves Guild is portrayed in the game as being Robin Hoods who steal from the rich and protect the poor. I kind of see them as being a bit more pragmatic that that. I imagine them being like Pablo Escobar in that one regard. While he was one of the most viscous and ruthless druglords to ever live, he also gave tons of money to the poor people in the slums of Medellín. He was the one taking care of them, and looking out for them. So when Escobar was on the run he hid out among them, and no one turned him in. Even with a bounty on his head. I see the TG as having that same mindset. By doing their best to protect Waterfronters from the worst elements, they are making them a protective screen they can hide behind as well as an intelligence network.

I think it would be an excellent setting to really go deeply into. I wanted to put more into it, but it would have bogged down the story. Maybe I will be able to work a flashback chapter in of Teresa, Methredhel, and Adanrel from a few years earlier? That might not only put more into those relationships, but also better show the dark underbelly of the Waterfront at the same time.


minque: Thank you minque. I do make an effort to get those little things in. In fact, I have been trying to find a way I can get in Teresa having her period during a story, but I am not sure how I can do it without it being TMI.




* * *

Chapter 6c - You Can't Go Home Again

After she had calmed her nerves, Teresa got back on her feet and made her way through the winding alleys that made up the shantytown until she finally came to a familiar shack. She hoped Methredhel was still living there, and this time she knocked on the door rather than simply barging in.

She heard low voices through the dilapidated walls, then footsteps, and finally saw a familiar pair of green eyes staring at her through a crack in the boards.

"What do you want?" a cautious voice ventured through the door.

"Can't an old friend just stop by to say hello?" Teresa said with a faint smile. "It's me, Teresa."

"Teresa?" she heard the voice say with surprise. The sound of a bolt being pulled back came to her ears, and a moment later the door opened and Teresa was greeted by the sight of a brown-haired Bosmer woman, also dressed in leather and holding a bow in one hand. It was Methredhel, Teresa knew, and she felt a tremendous sigh of relief flow through her as the other wood elf caught her up into a warm hug.

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"It is so good to see you again girl!" Methredhel exclaimed. "We thought you were dead."

"For a while I thought I was too," Teresa said in agreement as Methredhel let go of her and led her though the doorway. The other Bosmer wasted no time bolting the door behind her, and this time it was her roommate Adanrel, yet another Bosmer woman, who gathered Teresa up in a welcome hug.

Their shack was a simple, one-room affair, as were most of the hovels in the Waterfront shantytown. A long table sat near the door, with the hearth next to it. A single rattan bed sat in a corner on the opposite wall. A bedroll lay on the floor beside it, and a third was rolled up nearby. There was a chest that Teresa knew contained all of Methredhel and Adanrel's belongings, and a small cupboard for plates and pots. It was not much, but it was clean and free of vermin, unlike most of the other shacks of the Waterfront.

"What happened to your hair?" Adanrel asked, looking at Teresa in amazement. The third Bosmer was the same age as the other two, and her attractive features were framed by a mane of long blond hair that Teresa knew was dyed, like her own. "You don't look a thing like yourself. Now you look more like Methredhel in all that leather."

"It's a long story," Teresa breathed. "Have either of you seen Geen-Rana?"

"Oh yes, she has been staying with Damian Magius," Adanrel said. "They have been quite the couple since you disappeared."

"You haven't been back to your old squat have you Teresa?" Methredhel asked. "A real hard-case named Regner moved in there while you were gone."

"So I found out," Teresa sighed as she unstrung her bow and laid its stave against the wall. She felt relieved that her Argonian roommate was safe and sound, and hoped that her new love affair would work out for her. She deserved some happiness, Teresa thought.

"You went there?" Adanrel said in shock.

"I had to get my stuff," Teresa said, untying the blanket containing her belongings and spreading them out on the table before sitting down. A few coins, some empty potion vials, her mortar and pestle, a battered plate, cup, bowl, and assortment of eating utensils, and finally a painted woodcarving of a unicorn. Her entire life in the Imperial City was spread out on the little wooden table. There was certainly not much to show for it, Teresa thought.

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"You went in there with Regner!" Methredhel exclaimed. "He's on the run from Skyrim. They say he killed two people there. Are you mad?"

"I had to get my things," Teresa said again. Looking at them now, they seemed like a pretty stupid thing to risk her life for. "I wasn't going to just leave it to him and that Breton."

"What happened to you?" Adanrel said, looking at Teresa as if she were a stranger. "You were never like this before."

Teresa shrugged. She could not explain it herself. Ever since she had met the Emperor the world had changed. No, she thought, I have changed. She was not sure how, or even what she had become. But it was certainly not who she used to be. That had been becoming increasingly clear ever since she had returned to the city.

"It's been a long day." Teresa said, feeling exhaustion creeping in. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course you can." Methredhel said emphatically now, laying a welcoming hand on Teresa's arm. "There is always room for an old friend."

"Thank you," Teresa said, the hint of a smile crossing her features. Then she looked the other Bosmer in the eyes and covered her hand with her own. "And thank you for what you taught me about using a bow. It saved my life."

Methredhel nodded, squeezing her hand in reply. Teresa could see the questions in the other wood elf's eyes. Questions that she had herself, yet still could not answer. She was glad that Methredhel did not push for more.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about the old times, when they were younger. The more they talked, the more surreal it felt to Teresa. It was like they were talking about someone else, she thought. Someone Teresa had never known. Even Methredhel and Adanrel themselves seemed like strangers. She knew them, remembered all the things they had done together. But none of it felt connected to her anymore.

She went to sleep early, feeling not only exhausted, but distinctly out of place. When dawn came she was already awake. Dressing as quietly as she could, she gathered up her meager belongings, strung her bow, and made her way to the door.

"You aren't coming back are you?" Teresa stopped at the quiet sound of Methredhel's voice.

"I don't belong here anymore." the forester breathed quietly, looking back at the small rattan bed where the other Bosmer lay.

"I know you can't talk about whatever it is that happened to you," Methredhel said. "But someday, if you can, I am a good listener."

"And a good friend too," Teresa said with the tiniest of smiles. "Shadow hide you both."

Then she was gone.

* * *

Teresa walked through the Waterfront without incident. It felt nearly empty in fact. At this time of the morning most of its denizens were fast asleep. Usually she was too, she thought with amusement. She unstrung her bow before she left the tunnel to the Temple District and the rest of the city. This time she did not start when the legionaries at the gate greeted her courteously, and even managed a kind word of her own in response without too much difficulty.

She made her way to the Market District and found that it was already bustling with workmen, although the throngs of shoppers were still hours away. Simplicia should be up and about, Teresa thought. She always tried begging from the men delivering fresh bread to the many shops and street vendors in the early morning hours.

Teresa was taking a shortcut through the alley between two insulas when she came upon a curious sight. A Khajiit whose lithe body was covered in snow white fur sat at the mouth of the alley. The hair on her head was red and worn in braids held back by a headband. Teresa could not help but to notice the similarity with her own pale skin and crimson hair.

The Khajiit had her back to one of the alley walls and seemed to all the world to be nothing but one more street urchin with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Only her fur was too clean, and her muscles too well toned for her to be a street person. While her clothing was far from rich, it was not the patched and tattered garb that a street rat would wear either. As Teresa came up the alley behind her, she noticed that the Khajiit was looking across the main avenue that ran through the district, at a row of shops that lined a small plaza.

"I did not think Khajiit came with white fur?" Teresa found herself asking as she approached. "It looks lovely."

"I did not think Bosmer did either," the Khajiit replied with a smile, then turned her head to look at Teresa. "I like it. People might think we are twins."

Teresa smiled faintly at that. Obviously the Khajiit had been watching her from the corner of her eye. She at least had some skill as a thief, Teresa thought, assuming that was what she must be. Although she had never heard of a thief being awake at this time in the morning.

The wood elf passed by without a further word and turned down the main boulevard. She had other things on her mind than new members of the Thieves Guild. Dodging between workers dropping off baskets of bread, she was tempted to try to filch one. Yet there was hardly any point now that she had money, she prudently mused. Old habits die hard, she thought.

Teresa found Simplicia at an intersection ahead and wrapped the elderly woman in a warm embrace. She did not find it at all difficult to talk the beggar into spending the day with her at the Merchants Inn. Not that she had ever found it difficult to persuade Simplicia to do anything for her.

The room was expensive, even compared to her recent extravagances, but Teresa did not begrudge the money. Ever since returning from her odyssey every moment she spent with the beggar seemed more important than ever. They spent the rest of the day talking while Teresa used her mortar and pestle to grind down the alchemical materials she had gathered into potions.

"You really have changed Teresa," Simplicia said at one point, sitting back to look over the slender Bosmer from head to toe. "I cannot believe how different you are."

"For the better I hope," Teresa ventured, looking up from the vial she was filling with green liquid.

"Definitely for the better," Simplicia said with a smile, and then came up to hug Teresa, nearly causing her to spill the potion. "I am so proud of you girl. You have done so well for yourself."

Suddenly Teresa felt like she was ten years old again. Whenever Simplicia held her she felt that way. Carefully putting down the vial so it would not tip over, Teresa wrapped her arms around the older woman and laid her head against her breast. Closing her eyes, Teresa simply sat there listening to her heart beating as Simplicia gently rocked her back and forth. When Simplicia finally did let go and sat down beside her, Teresa looked back up at her and could not contain a wide smile.

"I have to sell my potions once I am done," Teresa said. "Then let's eat here tonight. Anything you want."

They did just that, but as much as Teresa basked in the glow she felt whenever she was around Simplicia, she could not stop the feeling of the walls closing in around her, or of being an outsider.

"You should be going now dear," Simplicia herself said quietly after their meal. "You cannot stop fidgeting."

"Simplicia I..." Teresa stammered, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to remain in the city any longer either.

"I know," The elderly Imperial said. "I know. But you cannot spend your entire life looking after an old git like me. You are young. You need to be out living life."

"I'll be back," Teresa said, giving the old woman a hug. "I promise."

She left Simplicia most of the money she had earned from selling her potions. The beggar tried to stop her, but Teresa would not have it. For Teresa's entire life Simplicia had been taking care of her. It was the least she could do in return, she thought. Leaving herself just enough to buy some traveling food and a few nights board, she packed her things and was off.

She made her way west through the city, until she was finally back to where she had entered two days ago, at the great western bridge. This time she did not set her feet to the mighty pavestones that made up its span however. Instead she walked down to the lakeshore and wandered along the beach to the north until the sun began to dip over the horizon.

Teresa sat at the edge of the water and watched the sun set along its surface. The colors faded from orange to red, then from red to purple, taking her breath away. The air was clear in her lungs, and the only sound that came to her ears was the soft buzzing of insects and chirping of birds. One of those birds, a raven with sleek black feathers that fairly gleamed in the dying light, settled down next to her. Staring up at the wood elf with its beady eyes, it croaked at her, as if in greeting.

Closing her eyes, she could see the Emperor's face in her mind. He was smiling.

Finally, Teresa knew that she was home.

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This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:37 AM