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

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Well, Teresa certainly hopes to see Nerussa soon!

This chapter was really meant to underscore Teresa's relative inexperience. She does fine against simple enemies like imps by dint of her skills - sneaking and archery. However, when she encounters the ghost she finds skill alone is not enough. Her reflections on her near death are important, as they will fuel her desire to gain the professionalism she so plainly needs.


D.Foxy: Hello Vulpinius of the D. Teresa is glad to see you back!


Acadian: A midnight snack indeed! Yum! As I said to h.e.r. Teresa has now realized just how un-professional she is. Now she has to figure out how to change that.


Destri Melarg: I understand what you are saying, and you have a good point. It is something I have been making an effort to avoid altogether in my recent writing by using less of those internal dialogue tags. When I go back to the older chapters like this last one I have a hard time spotting them to rewite my way around them. I could go with using "I" as you suggest, but I do not like using that word in third person. I am afraid of making people confused by thinking I am bouncing between 1st and 3rd pov. It is something I have to think of more and look at more examples of in other people's writing.


treydog: Ewwwcalyptus? Ouch! That was painful, but you still made me smile more than just faintly.


Next: Teresa finally returns to the Imperial City.


Chapter 18.1 – Heart of Steel

4th Last Seed, 3E433

It was several days into Last Seed by the time Teresa returned to the Imperial City. Even though it had been little more than a month since the Oblivion Crisis had ended, she saw barely any signs that it had ever taken place at all. Aside from many doors and window frames that looked far newer then the faded white-wash on the stone insulas into which they were set, she would have never guessed that a pitched battle had been fought in the streets and buildings.

Life goes on, Teresa reminded herself as she fought her way through the crowds along Commerce Street. By reflex her eye cast about for Simplicia when she came to the intersection with Market Way. Yet she knew that the old woman would not be found begging on the street corner. Not anymore, she thought with a faint smile. After all, now she had a job at Jensine's.

Vowing to find the elderly Imperial later, the forester turned down Market Way to the Merchants Inn. There she parted with ten drakes for a room and left her bottles of Shadowbanish Wine within, along with the alchemical samples she had gathered during her latest expedition. Gathering up the rest of her loot from Nagastani and Castle Magia, she made the rounds of the merchants in the city, starting with Umbacano and his treasured Ancestor statue. Once more the pale Altmer made her teeth want to jump from her mouth. Yet he held up his end of their bargain, and his man Lurkos paid her the hundred gold septims he had promised.

By the end of the morning Teresa's purse was fat with golden septims and silver drakes, and she finally stopped at Jensine's shop. Before she could get two steps into the store, she felt herself swept up into a pair of bony arms, and heard a familiar creaking voice in her ear.

"Oh my little cherry blossom!" Simplicia cried, and Teresa could not contain the wide grin that crested her features as she held the Imperial tightly. When she finally stepped back and let go, she saw that the old woman wore a new dress of spun flax. Her hair was neatly brushed, and her face, while lined and careworn, was clean and fairly beamed back at her.

By Mara! Teresa thought, what a difference from the dirty and disheveled woman she had known all of her life. She could barely restrain her urge to throw her arms around Jensine as well, for she knew that the Nordic woman was to thank for most of it. For without the job she gave Simplicia, the Imperial would still be out in the street in spite of the money that Teresa gave her.

"I missed you so much!" Teresa exclaimed, reaching out to gently lay her hands upon Simplicia's shoulders once more. "Did you get my letters? I sent you two of them."

"Oh yes!" the Imperial woman's eyes lit up, and her hands slid down into her skirts, only to produce a pair of folded parchments a moment later. Teresa recognized them instantly as the letters she had penned during her most recent journey. One from a Wandrev and Farthir station in Sideways after she had left Methredhel, and the other from a similar post on the Blue Road near Lake Nemi. "I've read them a dozen times each!"

Teresa spent the rest of the morning with Simplicia, and shared a lunch with her at the Feed Bag. The old Imperial insisted on returning to work afterward however, and Teresa could barely restrain a chuckle at her diligence. Still, the forester was thankful. She had never seen the old woman so bright-eyed and filled with life as she was now. It was amazing what a little self-respect could do for a person, Teresa mused as she parted with her adoptive mother. That was a lesson she knew all too well from personal experience, thanks to the Emperor.

Her thoughts did not linger on the stately Imperial ruler for more than a moment however. Rather, her mind was on the burgundy and black dress that she had seen in the window of the Three Brothers' shop. If she was going to meet Nerussa, she ought to look her best when she did, Teresa mused. The Altmer woman might notice, and might even like what she saw…

So in no time at all Teresa was the owner of a new outfit of fine linen, then back at the inn and trying it on. She could not believe how soft and smooth the fabric felt under her fingers. The Imperial who had sold it to her - she could not tell which of the three Verus brothers it had been - said it was brand new and made from fine Argonian cotton. After a lifetime of wearing sack cloth she was accustomed to clothing that was rough and scratchy. This on the other hand felt simply divine as it slid gently across her skin.

How might it feel under Nerussa's fingers? Teresa found herself wondering as she looked at herself in the mirror. The thought made her heart pick up its pace, and spread warmth throughout her frame. She remembered those soft, amber eyes that the innkeeper possessed, and how easy it was to fall into them…

Twisting and turning to see herself from every angle, she frowned at what she saw. Women were supposed to be curvier, the forester thought, with wide hips and much larger breasts. What had the legionaries said the first time she was in their tower? she was 'too stringy'. Teresa sighed. All she could do was hope that Nerussa liked stringy women, assuming she liked women at all.

Teresa did not know why it mattered so much to her. When she had left Weye she had resolved to never see the Altmer woman again. Nerussa was trouble, she had spent an entire day wrangling slaughterfish because of the Altmer. Yet trouble had never made her heart race in such a wonderful manner...

Packing the bottles of Shadowbanish into a small bag that she had already filled with straw to serve as padding, she was ready to go. After glancing in the mirror one last time, she thought about her hair. She really ought to fix it up neater, she reflected. That made her think about her skin as well. Perhaps she should bathe again, and scent it too?

So she put down her wine and took off her new dress. Soon she was soaking in the inn's metal tub, filled with steaming water that was heated by a bed of heat stones underneath it. As much as she loved the wilderness, she did miss being able to take a hot bath. Scrubbing her hair and body with vanilla extract, she breathed in its soft aroma with delight. Nerussa was certain to notice this, she thought with a faint smile!

Then she was drying off and dressing again. Afterward she fought a battle with her hair until she was eventually victorious and every strand was in the right place, at least for the most part. Finally satisfied, she pulled the bag over her shoulder and was out into the streets of the Imperial City.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 04:01 AM

[Acadian]

How wonderful! A reflective return to the IC, the evidence of the Daedra invasion still plentiful. What a wonderful reunion with dear Simplicia! Ah, and now a heavy coinpurse as well. Finally, reflections and nervous anticipation as she prepared to deliver the two glass excuses to see Nerussa.

Once more the pale Altmer made her teeth want to jump from her mouth.

I love how you phrased Tereasa's reaction to Umbaccano here.

All she could do was hope that Nerussa liked stringy women,

Yup. Silly elves - never satisfied with what Mara gave them!

As much as she loved the wilderness, she did miss being able to take a hot bath.

Quoted for truth among wood elves.

Afterward she fought a battle with her hair until she was eventually victorious and every strand was in the right place, at least for the most part.

Another beautiful phrase. In fact I loved how you described all of her preparations for her visit to Weye.



Nits:

Even though had been little more than a month since the Oblivion Crisis had ended, she saw barely showed any signs that it had ever taken place at all.

This sure looks like a casualty of last minute editing. Perhaps: 'Even though it had been little more than a month since the Oblivion Crisis had ended, she saw barely any sign that it had ever taken place at all.'

She remembered those soft, amber eyes that the innkeeper possessed, and how easily it was to fall into them…

easy vs easily? Not sure, so just take a look and see if you want 'how easy it was to fall…' or perhaps '…how easily she fell into them.'

[haute ecole rider]

How wonderful to see Simplicia doing so well in Jensine's shop! So something good did come out of that Crisis.

This is my favorite:

Nerussa was trouble, Teresa thought, she had spent an entire day wrangling slaughterfish because of the Altmer. Yet trouble had never made her heart race in such a wonderful manner...

Amen for rogues, scoundrels and wenches!

Acadian picked out the other phrases I liked too.

Loved this!

[Linara]

It's great to see an aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis written so masterfully, especially from the point of view of a lower middle class character who was not completely involved, and has questions about the whole thing. Also, your portrayal of Simplicia makes me see her in a whole new light, much different from my earlier feelings of slight pity and dismissal! Looking forward to the next chapter
Nell

[treydog]

That was painful, but you still made me smile more than just faintly.

Yay, me. To provoke a positive reaction from our resident sage is a joyous feat!

You set up an interesting contrast- things in the IC seem not to have changed, despite the Oblivion Crisis, but that only on the surface. At a personal level- for Teresa and Simplicia, things have changed a great deal.

I loved her fussing with her preparations to meet with Nerussa, even as she tells herself the Altmer is trouble. Of course, I don't know anyone who has ever done anything like that....

Wonderful descriptions of the City and the people who live in it add so much life to this chapter.

[Destri Melarg]

I have never done the quest to find Shadowbanish wine. In fact, it wasn’t until reading about Teresa’s adventures that I even ventured into the Wawnet Inn. After laying eyes on Nerussa, I can definitely see the appeal. She has even supplanted Carahill as my favorite female Altmer.

It was amazing what a little self-respect could do for a person, Teresa mused as she parted with her adoptive mother. That was a lesson she knew all too well from personal experience, thanks to the Emperor.

This stood out for me. Teresa using her own experience to frame her understanding of the change that a job has wrought in Simplicia.

Nits? None. Simply enthralling.

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Thank you Acadian. As you know, girls are never happy with what Mara gave them. And water, well, you know what that does...

Quite right on the nits, fixed.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. If Nerussa were a FO3 character, I think she would have the Black Widow and Lady Killer perks...


Linara: Welcome to the TF Linara! Since we do not have a wavey smiley, here is a santa instead:

One of the things I was going for with Teresa was to show the game from the pov of a (relatively) ordinary person. I am glad you liked it.


treydog: I cannot imagine Athlain getting nervous and excited all at once over seeing Athynae! Oh no, not at all!


Destri Melarg: I often wind up doing the shadowbanish quest by accident, when I stumble upon the bottles in a ruin I happen to be exploring. Nerussa is one of the early characters I met when I first played however, as not long after starting I went west and stopped in Weye. Since I am on the PC, I modded her a bit to be somewhat more flashy. Not that it took much, mostly just new clothes. Her, Carahil, and Ardaline are my three favorite Altmer, when it comes to eye-candy at least.


Next: Teresa has made her rounds of the Imperial City. Now she makes her way to Weye, but is accosted by the Imperial Legion.


Chapter 18.2 – Heart of Steel

"Stop right there Bosmer!" a male voice rang out across the street like a trumpet, "where do you think you're going?"

Teresa instantly froze, feeling her heart leap into her throat. Damn, it was the Imperial Legion! she silently cursed. What were they after her for now?

Then she felt her face fill with heat. What right did they have to harass her? She had not broken any laws, not since going to prison at least. They had no reason to give her trouble, and she was not going to stand for it!

"I'll go wherever I damn well please you iron-clad-" She whirled to face her accuser with a pointed finger. However, her words trailed off as the legionary approached with a clanking of metal. She saw a grin through the Y-shaped slit in the face of his helmet, and a single blue eye glinted back at her.

"Volsinius?" she wondered aloud, "is that you under all that metal?"

"In the flesh!" the legionary proclaimed as he stepped in front of her, "you should see the look on your face!"

"Damn you iron-headed ox!" Teresa cried. "That's not funny!"

She punctuated her remark with a fist to his steel breastplate. He did not seem to even feel it, but Teresa certainly did as pain blossomed where her fingers crashed against the unyielding metal. She pulled her hand away as if it was burned, and nearly doubled over as she cradled it against her chest.

"Owww!" she cried.

"Aww, what did you have to go and do that for?" Volsinius murmured, taking her hand in his own. His gauntleted fist was so large that Teresa's hand simply vanished within it, and his steel-clad fingers carefully felt along the ridges of her bones while she grumbled wordlessly.

"Nothing broken," he announced after a few moments. "You certainly got the temper to go with that hair. You really need to think before you do something like that Red."

"I know, I know," Teresa breathed, and she wondered at her own actions. Her anger was starting to get the better of her lately. Ever since the prison it had been coming out more and more, she thought.

No, she ruminated, it had always been there. It was just that she had never let it out before. She had always been a meek little mouse afraid to cause trouble. Now that she was not afraid anymore, she was letting her fury out when it came, instead of just swallowing it like a bitter potion.

The Emperor probably never saw that coming when he told her that she could change herself! Yet it was hardly something that would make him proud either, she thought. Whenever she got angry, she seemed to do something stupid, or at least embarrassing. She really had to learn to control herself...

"When did you get out?" Teresa asked, craning her head back to stare up at the towering legionary. "I thought you would still be laid up?"

"I was out weeks ago," Volsinius said. "Calindil fixed me up with his spells after you left the city. I used to think he was just some ponce, but that guy really is something else. He used to be a battlemage in the Second Legion you know, before he retired to run that magic shop of his."

"Thank goodness," Teresa said, looking up at his one remaining eye, "how does it look? Can I see?"

"Aww, you don't want to do that," his words trailed away as he looked away down the street.

"Yes, I do," Teresa said, remembering the battle in Jensine's shop and how bad the legionary's face - really his entire body - had looked afterward.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," the legionary said quietly as he lifted his full-faced helmet from his shoulders.

Teresa bit her lower lip as she gazed up at him. It was the first time she had seen him without the bandages. His blond hair had thinned out on the left side of his head - the side that had been burned by the atronach - but it was still there. It had all been gone at the end of the battle, so that was good at least, she thought.

However, his left eye was missing, and nothing but a gaping socket remained where it had once shone. The skin on that side of his face was wrinkled, browned, and spotty, like old leather that had dried out and cracked from too much sun. His left ear was nothing but a tiny nub, twisted and misshapen into a form that Teresa could not even put words to.

The Bosmer felt her heart lurch at the sight, and fought as best she could not to flinch or otherwise show the horror that was spreading through her. But she saw in his eye that she had failed, and he lifted his helmet to once again cover his maimed features.

"I told you it wasn't pretty," he said. His voice was not the stony growl that she knew so well. Rather it was one filled with quiet emptiness. Something Teresa knew all too well after a life in the streets.

"Wait!" she cried, lifting her hand and gently laying it on the side of his burned head. She did her best to force a smile to her face, when inside she felt like crying. This was all for Simplicia, she knew. In her mind's eye, she could still see the legionary stepping between the old woman's sprawled form and the flame atronach. She saw the Daedra raise its hand to Volsinius, and engulf his head in fire…

"Does it still hurt?" she asked quietly, looking in his eye.

"No, not anymore," he answered, his one eye not making contact with her own, but looking down at the cobblestones instead, "not since Calindil fixed me up. He saved my hair at least, and the side of my mouth."

"He did a good job," Teresa breathed, trying as hard as she could to be cheerful. The truth was that he had looked far, far worse laying on the floor of Jensine's. It was amazing that he could even look this good after that.

"So how come you have blond hair?" Teresa traced her fingers over the golden stubble on top of his head. "I thought you Imperials were all dark?"

"Oh that's from my mother," he said, finally lifting his eye to meet hers. His voice picked up again as well, not quite the granite of his normal tone, but at least not the dull ache it had been moments before either.

"She's a Nord," he explained, "it's my father that was an Imperial. He was in the Twelfth Fulminata - The Lightning-Struck - up in Skyrim when he met her. She was a hunter who worked as a local scout for them."

"So that's how you got the Nordic body and the Imperial name," Teresa finally drew her hand away. "I was wondering about that since you said you came from Skyrim."

"Yeah, born and bred on top of the world," he said. "My father was away most of the time, so my mother raised me. She taught me everything I know about how to fight. She should have been a drill instructor in the Imperial Legion! She would have been a damn sight better than the ones that tried to train me when I came down here to join up."

So being hard as nails runs in the family, Teresa thought. A mother who could be a drill instructor! No wonder his heart was as hard and cold as steel...

"So when did you get back in town?" Volsinius asked, "and what's with the fancy get up?"

"I just got back this morning, I explored one of the old ruins on the east side of the lake a few days ago - Castle Magia." Teresa said. She was not about to mention why she was dressed up.

"Castle Magia!" the legionary made the name sound like a curse, "didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" Teresa wondered.

"About the damn necromancers!" Volsinius exclaimed. "They murdered the Arcane University's mages on Wellspring Island."

"What?" Teresa's eyes flew wide. She knew that Wellspring Island was less than a mile down the coast from the castle, across a little strait of water from the east bank of the lake. She had swum right past it when she had returned to the City Isle.

"We just got briefed on it this morning by the battlemage that found out," Volsinius said, "some creepy-looking Dunmer named Saya. Turns out she just graduated and went to get her staff made on the island, and found it crawling with necromancers. It looks like they killed everyone from the University about a week ago and set up shop there. They probably would've frosted her too if she wasn't a battlemage."

"I never saw a thing," Teresa's head whirled at the idea of those murders taking place so near to where she had been, with her having no idea. "Maybe that explains all the undead I found in the castle though. It was packed with skeletons, even a ghost."

"A ghost!" he cried, and suddenly Teresa thought that he sounded just like Simplicia, "dammit Red, you gotta start being more careful…"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 9 2010, 02:25 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Yaaaay, Vols! :twirl:

"A ghost!" he cried, and suddenly Teresa thought that he sounded just like Simplicia, "dammit Red, you gotta start being more careful…"

Once he saves her life, he's obligated to look after her like Simplicia, huh?

And I see Saya gets her first mention. I have a feeling we'll hear more (and maybe eventually see) her in the future.

[Destri Melarg]

Welcome back, Vols! My goodness, 'Rosa, in one brief chapter you manage to take Teresa and Volsinius through the full range of human emotion. Your description of his face was truly heartbreaking, while at the same time strangely optimistic. I know that in time the emptiness will leave Vols’ good eye and he will carry his scars with the pride that his actions in earning them warrants.

Teresa continues to be removed from the important events of the day. Are we to assume that she will experience all the major events of the Mages Guild questline as whispered rumor? Your ability to present the quests to us in this way, while also maintaining Teresa’s ability to act and quietly influence events in her own arena of experience has always been my favorite thing about the TF.

I wonder, will Saya be to the Mages Guild what Julian was for the Main Quest?

[Linara]

That felt heartbreaking and somewhat resigned, but also with a bit of hope. Poor Vols, the knowledge that other people see you as horrifying as well often hurts worse then the injury itself. I too am curious about Saya. Is she a character from another FF like Julian or is she your own creation?
Nell

[Acadian]

She punctuated her remark with a fist to his steel breastplate. He did not seem to even feel it, but Teresa certainly did as pain blossomed where her fingers crashed against the unyielding metal. She pulled her hand away as if it was burned, and nearly doubled over as she cradled it against her chest.

I wonder if doing dumb things when angry is a wood elf thing?

I love Vols! As always, you do a magnificent job with him.

What a wonderful way to allude to the challenges faced by the Mages Guild! Oh my. This has loads of potential if you choose to go there (or not). I know a little bit about Saya - I would not want to be a necromancer on Wellspring. . . .

Oh, for Linara, Saya is another character of SubRosa's. Definitely not the girl next door. . . .

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 9 2010, 01:03 AM

[treydog]

Hooray! Vols is back! And interrupting Teresa’s assignment… assignation… assimilation… I think I will just stop typing anything that begins with those 3 letters before I write myself into a corner.

Even though Teresa “plays for the other team,” there is an interesting tension between her and Vols. Mostly that is because he was the “ogre” of her childhood, and later her rescuer. So perhaps it is just a function of the intensity of their shared experiences. But love takes many forms.

Everyone has already put my impressions into far better words than I could manage- so I will just note- “What they said!”

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: I knew you would be happy to see Vols again. In a way you are right, he is obligated to look after Teresa. He put a lot of effort into keeping her alive during the crisis, it would be a shame if that all turned out for nothing (not to mention would cut my writing rather short! ) A feeling which runs both ways...


Destri Melarg: This chapter is one of my favorites because of the depth it gives Vols. We had a glimpse of it when Teresa visited him in the barracks, now it really comes out.

There will not be much of the Mages Guild quest going on in the TF, at least not how it is in the game. However, there will be some related stuff. The mention of Wellspring Island was the prologue to an arc that will reach fruition in Bravil.


Linara: Heartbreaking is exactly what I was going for with the realization of just how horribly maimed Vols was in the Oblivion Crisis. Teresa knows full well how her reaction can effect him too, which is why she was kicking herself for letting her initial (and natural) shock to show. Saya is another character of mine. A Gothmer battle-conjurer, she was the first magician I ever played. She will be making some small appearances in the future, and should have an entire chapter from her pov.

Acadian: Well, I think Bethesda established that doing crazy things is a wood elf thing! At least for the men. Maybe the women just do the dumb ones instead


treydog: Teresa's assembly? association? assizement?

Yes indeed, love takes many forms. As h.e.r. noted, a certain responsibility comes with saving someone's life. But even before that when Teresa visited Vols in the hospital she saw how he, Simplicia, and herself were all tied together by a strange quirk of fate. This is still one of my favorite chapters because of the depth it not only gives Vols, but especially Teresa's growing relationship with him.

And I think while not only playing for the other team, Teresa might be able to score a goal soon too.


Next: Teresa ran into Vols in the previous segment, and saw how badly wounded he really was during the Oblivion Crisis. Next a shadow looms from both their past's.


Chapter 18.3 – Heart of Steel

Then his gaze trailed away, fixing on something down the street from them. Seconds later a shout rose from the same direction. Even as Teresa was turning to see what it was, the legionary was springing into action. His helmet clattered to the pavement as he darted to one side of the road, his open hand reaching out in front of him.

Teresa marveled at how quickly he moved in the full suit of steel armor that he wore. She doubted that she could even walk in all that metal, let alone run. He had the muscle for it though, she thought, probably more in one arm than she had in her entire body!

Teresa saw an Argonian vendor at a food stand down the street waving his hands and yelling, while a flash of dull brown and green made its way through the throngs of people toward the two of them. Teresa knew what that was in an instant - a thief who had just robbed the merchant - although she could not see who it was yet.

Somehow Volsinius did however, and he was standing directly in front of that blur when it emerged from a crowd of people. The next thing Teresa knew his steel-clad hand was clasped around a tiny arm, and the blur of motion had transformed into a little girl wearing dirty clothing and clutching an apple in one hand.

She could not be more than twelve years old, Teresa thought, feeling her heart lurch in her chest. The street urchin's brown hair was as dirty as her threadbare clothing, and her Bretonish features were thin to the point of gauntness. Her brown eyes were filled with woe as they looked up at the legionary who towered above her, and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Teresa felt a pit yawn wide in her stomach. She had been that same girl less than a decade ago! By Mara, she thought, it was like looking into a mirror that showed the past. Her tongue slid into the hole between her molars where a tooth had once been, until Volsinius had knocked it out with a backhanded smack when she was a child. A slap because she had stolen a sweetroll...

She could not let him do that to this little girl! Teresa thought with urgency as she scooped up the soldier's helmet and ran to where the two of them stood. She was not sure how, but she had to stop him.

"Well what do we have here?" the legionary rumbled, once more the lion of the street as he glowered down at his prey. "Stealing is it? Do you know what the penalty is for theft?"

"Volsinius no!" Teresa shouted as she closed the distance between them, the folds of her long skirt threatening to wrap around her legs and trip her. "She's just a child!"

The legionary looked up at her, his face hard as stone. Then something odd happened to his features, something she had never seen in them before. He winked at her. It seemed so strange on his scarred face that it left her too dumbfounded to speak.

The girl said nothing as he took the apple from her hand. Still clutching her arm, Volsinius marched her down to the vendor. The Argonian stood beside a simple wooden stall on the side of the street, piled high with apples, pears, and other fruit, with an awning of canvas overhead to offer shade from the sun. He hissed with satisfaction and stared down at the Breton.

"Ahhh, you have captured the prey," the Argonian said in the low, raspy tone common to his race. "Now it can learn the error of its ways!"

"So this is your property then citizen?" Volsinius asked as he held up the fruit, all business now.

"Yes, it is," the Argonian hissed, "the tadpole snatched it when it thought this one was not looking. But Broken-Scale sees all!"

"That's it then," Volsinius declared and handed the apple to the vendor. Then he glowered down at the Breton, "we have a special punishment for criminals like you."

The girl did whimper then, and tried to squirm from his grasp. But there was no escaping the vise of the legionary's grip, and she was forced to keep up as he strode down the street away from the Argonian fruit-seller.

"Volsinius, don't you hurt her!" Teresa cried, feeling her heart in her mouth. "Look at her, you can see she is hungry!"

"Stay out of this Red," Volsinius rumbled, turning a corner down a side street and continuing to the larger, busier road beyond. "This is a legion matter now. Crime must be punished."

"She's just a little girl!" Teresa said, fighting to keep her rising anger in check this time, "not the Grey Fox!"

Volsinius looked at her and winked again. Teresa's words evaporated in her mouth. The legionary was up to something, she thought, but what? This was not like him at all. The Volsinius she had known before the Oblivion Crisis had been a blunt instrument. It was all law, order, and brutality with him. Was this the same man?

He stopped in the front stoop of a leather shop, out of the traffic of the street, and knelt down to strare the girl in the eye. She tried to look away from his maimed face, but he raised his other hand to turn her features back to his own.

"Now, what's your name girl?" his words were quieter now, only a low rumble rather than a loud growl. Teresa was not sure, but she thought it might be his idea of a soft voice.

The girl did not reply however, and once more she tried to squirm away with a whimper.

"Oh let me," Teresa breathed, kneeling down and taking the street urchin in her arms. The forester felt a sigh of relief escape her lips as Volsinius relinquished his hold of the girl. At least he trusted her that much. She only hoped that she could find some way to salvage this mess.

"It's alright, no one is going to hurt you," she said in a voice that was truly soft, and brushed the dirty hair from the girl's soft brown eyes. "My name is Teresa, and that daedroth there is Volsinius."

"Now what is your name?" she asked, doing her best to form a welcome smile.

"Brekke," the girl breathed, eyes darting from Teresa to the legionary.

"Well hello Brekke," the forester said, pausing to give a sidelong glance at Volsinius. "I wish we could have met in a better way. You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. How long has it been since you last ate?"

"About three days," the girl mumbled. "Am I going to prison now?"

"No, not prison," Volsinius said, taking his helmet from Teresa and fixing it around his scarred head. "The Imperial Legion has something special for cases like this."

He stood up, then reached down to take the girl and lift her up in his arms. She squealed in surprise as he effortlessly hoisted her up on one shoulder, one arm still locked around her in a rock-hard grip.

The crowds parted in front of him as he marched down the street, as they did for all legionaries, and Teresa followed in his wake. She soon found that he was striding to the same hot food stand that she had bought dumplings and wine from the first time she had visited him in the tower barracks.

"Make way here, legion business!" Volsinius barked as they stepped up the stand, and as if by magic a space formed for him to step into. Setting the girl down on the stone counter, he gestured at the earthenware jars simmering with hot food that ran its length. "Now what do you like kid?"

Teresa felt her heart leap with joy, and for once a real smile crested her features as she looked up at the legionary. His blue eye met hers, and she thought she saw it soften for just a moment.

"How about some sausage?" he suggested, "or maybe some minced beef. Well maybe it's beef. It looks like it's from some kind of animal that had four legs at least..."

"You aren't going to lock me up?" the girl asked, looking up at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"Does it look like it kid?" the legionary rasped in exasperation. "Now are you hungry or not? 'cause if not then we can just go..."

"No! I want that!" the young Breton declared as Volsinius pretended that he was going to step away, her finger pointing to a jar filled with steaming fish.

"Good choice," Teresa said as she stepped to the other side of the street urchin. The Khajiit vendor filled a plate with the succulent lake trout and smothered it with garum, and Volsinius passed over one quarter of a cut drake to pay for it. "Some of that goat's milk for her too." Teresa declared, dropping a copper reman on the counter as well.

"I want wine!" Brekke declared, pointing to the steaming red liquid in one of the heated jars along the counter.

"Not a chance kid!" Volsinius laughed, still looking across the child and at Teresa. "You drink that milk and you'll grow up tall and strong like Teresa there. Maybe you'll even be great a Daedra-slayer like her too! That's how she got that way you know."

The girl's eyes widened as she looked from one adult to the other. Then the Khajiit put the plate of food in front of her, and she had eyes for nothing else. She devoured it with single-minded gusto, and Volsinius ordered a loaf of bread afterward and handed it to her as they walked away.

"Now you hide that so the big kids don't take it away," Teresa warned her, and the girl obligingly made the bread vanish in her skirts.

"From now on when you get hungry you come and find me," the legionary declared, "and we'll get something to eat again. My name is Volsinius, can you remember that?"

"Vols..." she muttered, staring up at his towering form. "Vols..."

"Aww, that's good enough kid," Volsinius chuckled. "You can tell which soldier I am, 'cause I'm the handsome one right?"

Brekke laughed then and beamed back up at him.

"Now if I'm not on the street, you go to that tower down there and tell them you're looking for me." he said, pointing down the street to the same barracks that Teresa had been visiting him at since the Oblivion Crisis had ended.

"And one more thing kid, and this is very important" Volsinius said, now kneeling down to look her in the eye. "You gotta make a solemn pact with me. You have to promise me you're gonna keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble. I catch you stealing again and the deal's off. You got that?"

She nodded, still smiling up at him and Teresa. The wood elf felt her heart melt when she stared into the street urchin's brown eyes. That could so easily have been her. What might her life had been like if Volsinius had done the same when he had caught her, so many years ago? How would she have felt about the Imperial Legion then?

"Run along now Brekke," she said, biting her lower lip, "and be careful."

The little street urchin took off down the street like an arrow and vanished into an alley in moments. It was like going back in time, Teresa thought as she stared after the girl. She had been just the same. So quiet, so wide-eyed, so filled with desperation...

"You did that because of me, back then, didn't you?" The Bosmer turned to face Volsinius, thinking of that backhanded smack across her face ten years earlier.

"I'm just doing my job is all," the legionary continued to stare down the street after Brekke. "That kid might be the next Grey Fox if I don't turn her from a life of crime."

That was just like him, Teresa thought as she laid a hand on his armored shoulder. She tried to tighten her fingers in a comforting grip, but of course the steel would not budge underneath her fingers. Still, she hoped he understood just the same, for perhaps his heart was not made of steel after all...

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 1 2011, 01:58 AM

[haute ecole rider]

You know, this has got to be one of my all-time favorite chapters you've ever written!

I have a thing for rogues, scoundrels and tough men. When they're bad, I want redemption for them. Vols fit that bill perfectly for me, and this chapter is his redemption in full (though it actually began earlier, during the battle in Jensine's shop).

I guess it comes from having a tough Seabee for a father and an even tougher Marine sergeant for an uncle/godfather. Both can be scary, but they both had a soft side, and I loved them for it. And you've made Vols a character I can love, in spite of his tough exterior!

[treydog]

Agree with everything our Lady of the Horses said. This is one of my favorites, as well. And it is in line with what we have seen with Simplicia and Teresa- this is a story about the changes wrought by the Oblivion Crisis, but not the sweeping political and social changes. Instead, we are given a window into some very important and endearing lives.

Just as Uriel was a catalyst for Teresa, she has initiated or assisted in changes for others- Volsinius in this case. He is one of the best characters I have ever read in any fiction. Bravo!

[Destri Melarg]

Make it three for three! It is hard to quantify just how good this chapter is. Nothing is really spoken, but everything is made clear in the subtext. In Volsinius one can see the actions of a man who knows that he has been given a second chance. His desire to make amends for the mistakes of his youth is apparent in his treatment of Brekke. His fight with the daedra restored something to him that I think he felt lost after his actions on Simplicia’s behalf. It is nice to see honor and compassion reassert itself within his nature. That compassion has pulled him from the abyss to which he felt consigned before Teresa came back into his life.

Sorry, I got carried away. This chapter was just that good.

[Linara]

I had a feeling Vols was changing a bit, finally letting down his guard. And who couldn't feel bad for poor Brekke? "That kid might be the next Gray Fox if I don't turn her from a life of crime." Sure Vols, sure. I will agree in that this is also one of my favorite chapters, along with the battle at Bruma. It is good to see Teresa impacting peoples lives like this, and to see the bonds between her, Vols and Simplicia growing ever stronger. I look forward to the next chapter.
Nell

Thanks Acadian and SubRosa for explaining about Saya, this will make things easier to get when we read her chapter. I must add, she looks a little like Teresa, although most characters do have a similar facial structure.

[Acadian]

You brought more than a faint smile to my face as well. Magnificently done!

The next thing Teresa knew his steel-clad hand was clasped around a tiny arm, and the blur of motion had transformed into a little girl wearing dirty clothing and clutching an apple in one hand.

How beautifully worded is this!?!

Ahah. I see little Brekke chose the fish over the sausage. My goodness. That really could be little Teresa a decade ago!

What a wonderful friendship has developed between Vols and Teresa. Both of them have grown so much!

I've said this before. Teresa is at her best when used as a vessel to show the beauty inside others.

[D.Foxy]

Am I the only one who notices that when Brekke is offered sausage, she chooses fish instead???

*winks at SubRosa*

Too bad the foodseller didn't have any fish-scented pink doughnuts for sale...

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: This is one of my all time favorite chapters in the TF as well, precisely because of the growth we see under Vols helmet. It is very rewarding to read about a character who is far from perfect, but steps up to the plate to become a better person. It gives hope to us all that we can do the same ourselves.


treydog: You know, I had not really thought of that last chapter as being an example of the changes created by the crisis. But your doggie snout is on the money again. It was what I am going for though. Showing how people change from events, rather than how nations do.

And quite accurate with your assessment of Teresa's ability to inspire others. It was not something I planned on when I started writing her, but I have seen it as well. She does have a way of bringing out the better side of people. Well, most people at least. In fact, someone will be commenting on that in the upcoming chapter.


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. I am glad all of that shows through with Vols, because it is all exactly what I wanted. It is a little difficult being that the chapter was not from his pov, and of course he never would admit to any of it, even to himself.


Linara: You gave me a good laugh with the "Sure Vols, sure." He's not fooling anyone is he?


Acadian: It is amazing how much both Teresa and Vols have changed since the beginning of the story. Simplicia as well. I think what is heartwarming is that through all the bad things that has happened to them all, each has found a way to (eventually) create something positive from it all.


D.Foxy: Don't you mean doughnut holes?


Next: After having an uplifting encounter with Vols last chapter, Teresa finally makes her way to the village of Weye.


* * *

Chapter 19.1 – Dibella's Dance

4th - 5th Last Seed, 3E433

The sun was hovering over the western horizon as Teresa's hansom pulled to a stop in the middle of Weye. The bay horse drawing the two-wheeled carriage snorted loudly and shook his head after they came to a halt. Teresa wondered if it was a protest, as if he had an aversion to fishing villages? Shaking her head at the horse's proclivities, she clambered down to the cobblestones of the single paved road that cut through the settlement and vanished over a hill to the west.

"Shall I wait for the lady?" The driver's distinctly Bretonish voice drifted from where he sat in the back of the two-wheeled carriage, high above the small cab.

Teresa bit her lip as she stared at the stone and wattle edifice of the Wawnet Inn before her. Would this only take a few moments? Or would she be here the entire night? The young Bosmer felt her heart quicken its pace, and butterflies fluttered about in a lively dance within her stomach. Would Nerussa remember her? Would the high elf like her? Would she feel the same way that Teresa did?

Finally, Teresa shook her head once more. "No, go on," she murmured, "I'll probably be here the night." I hope, she added silently.

By Dibella, how do people do this? Teresa wondered as she turned back to the inn and stepped inside. She found herself on a small landing in the middle of a stair that ran up to her left and turned at the corner of the building. That went up to the rooms on the second floor, she remembered. To her right the stair descended to the common room, from which the sound of loud voices and music came to her ears. Pausing to lick her suddenly dry lips and run a hand to smooth down any errant locks of hair, she turned that way and did her best to gracefully move down the steps.

A dozen men and women sat around the wooden tables scattered throughout the room, while several more played darts against the back wall. An old man with a graying beard played a lively jig on a violin, while a handful of the younger men and women danced in a clear space in the center of the great chamber. Most of the patrons were clad in simple homespun, and bore the rough hands and weathered faces of peasants. However, Teresa also saw a few members of the Imperial Legion drinking at one table, their armor dusty from travel and eyes worn and bloodshot. They and most of the others looked up from their mugs as she entered, and Teresa imagined that it must have been the soft burgundy linen she wore that caused their eyes to linger.

"Teresa! is that you?" Nerussa's voice rang out to the left of the red-haired Bosmer. Turning, Teresa saw the statuesque Altmer woman standing behind a small bar. She wore a gown of black and gold velvet that was highlighted with lace, and once again her blond hair was cunningly tied behind her head by thin sticks that dangled sparkling golden jewels.

It was the Altmer woman's eyes that caught Teresa however, as they always did. The Bosmer felt a smile cross her lips as she fell into those deep amber pools. Not the usual faint smile that she reserved for most, but a wide grin that sparkled with ivory-white teeth. Teresa felt the breath catch in her throat as she lost herself in the other woman's stare, and for a moment she forgot about everything else in the world.

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"Nerussa," she finally said as awareness returned to her. Stepping up to the bar, the forester laid her hands on its smooth wooden surface and leaned forward. "Hello."

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Dibella, I am such an idiot! Teresa found herself silently cursing. She had spent all day thinking about this moment and that was all she could say? Hello? Nerussa must think her a bumbling fool.

"It is so good to see you again," Nerussa smiled, leaning forward herself. If the shapely high elf did think less of her, it certainly did not show. She took Teresa's hands in her own and held them gently. Teresa's heart picked up its pace. Her fingers were soft and warm, just as she had imagined they would be.

"I never had the chance to say goodbye when you were last here. Or to thank you for helping Aelwin. I am so glad you came by again," Nerussa continued, still looking deeply into Teresa's eyes.

"Um, how is Aelwin?" Teresa asked, hoping to steer the subject away from her abrupt departure during her previous visit. She prayed that the fisherman was not sitting in the room behind her. The last thing she needed was to look like an even greater idiot.

"Oh he is wonderful," Nerussa beamed, her hands still warmly holding Teresa's. "When he delivered those slaughterfish scales to the alchemist in Skingrad he fell in love with the city. He says there is not a drop of water anywhere in sight, and that is just how he likes it! He came back to pack up his things and was off again the next day to retire there."

"But what am I thinking?" the Altmer said, finally disengaging herself from Teresa and stepping back to look around behind the counter, "would you like some wine?"

"Oh, speaking of wine…" Teresa smiled again, or was she still smiling from when she had first set eyes upon Nerussa? She was not sure. She slid the bag from her shoulder and gently laid it on the bar. Untying the cord that held it closed, she reached inside with only the slightest quiver in her hands and drew forth both of the bottles of wine that she had recovered from Castle Magia.

"I brought some for you," Teresa declared, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

"Oh my goodness, Shadowbanish Wine!" Nerussa cried, clapping her hands together with a sparkle in her eyes. "You found some, and you remembered me!"

"Of course I remembered you," Teresa said automatically, "I've been thinking about you since we met."

"Oh you say the sweetest things Teresa." Nerussa's smile deepened, and her eyes practically glowed while her cheeks took on a warm, rosy hue. She walked around the bar and put her arms around Teresa, enfolding her in a gentle embrace.

Teresa sighed in contentment as the smooth velvet of Nerussa's gown surrounded her. She smelled lavender on the Altmer woman's hair and the scent of pomegranates underneath it. Most of all she was keenly aware of the softness of the high elf's body as it pressed against her own. She closed her eyes and drank in the moment, savoring every breath of Nerussa's scent, every inch of her body that she felt.

When Nerussa drew away, it was far too soon for Teresa. By Dibella, how did the Altmer have such an effect upon her? she wondered. Women like Methredhel and Adanrel did not make her feel like this. Well, maybe they did, she grudgingly admitted, but only a little. Yet she could forget how attractive they were, they were more like sisters after all. Once she set eyes upon Nerussa however, there was no driving the high elf from her thoughts.

"Why don't you help me take these upstairs and put them away?" Nerussa suggested, picking up the bottles and handing one to Teresa. Before the forester could respond the high elf took her by the hand and led her up the stairs, past the front door, and to the second floor above.

Teresa could not take her eyes off Nerussa's body as it swayed gently back and forth with every step above her. Her hips were hypnotic, transfixing Teresa's stare upon them. Her mouth felt dry once more as she clung to Nerussa's hand. Were they going to her bedroom?

The Altmer woman sauntered down the short hallway above the common room and stopped at the last door with Teresa still in tow. There she let go of the wood elf's hand in order to draw forth a ring of keys from one of the folds in her gown. Shaking loose one of shining brass, she unlocked the door and led Teresa within.

The room was large, easily three times the size of the guest room that Teresa recalled spending the night in during her previous visit. A soft carpet was stretched out over the hardwood floor, and the walls were decorated with warm-colored hangings that Teresa imagined might be silk. Several watercolor paintings of the great forest hung between the tapestries. They seemed so vibrant and alive with color that she could swear she was looking through windows rather than at portraits.

The furniture was of polished teak and mahogany and carved with flowing vines and blooming flowers. The bed was large enough for two, and draped in a blue velvet blanket over glistening silk sheets and matching pillows. Near it was a full-length mirror and a wardrobe. Beside that was a shoulder-high partition of delicate brass covered in floral-patterned silk. Made in three hinged pieces, Teresa could see that it could fold up to be easily put away, or when set out as it was now it would afford one a place to change clothing behind without another person in the chamber seeing.

Across the room was a vanity with a large mirror rising from its surface, and laid out with all manner of combs, brushes, bottles, and jars. Teresa imagined those must be all sorts of perfumes, lotions, and makeup. Next to it was a writing desk, and several comfortable-looking chairs and couches were scattered throughout the room.

Nerussa stepped to a short rack of wine bottles against one wall. Teresa marveled at the grace in which she walked. Every part of her body seemed to sway in gentle concord with the rest, as if she was dancing. Nerussa bent and carefully slid her bottle into an empty spot, then turned and reached out her hand to take the second from Teresa.

"You certainly live well." Teresa breathed as she looked around the room. Compared to Umbacano she was a pauper, Teresa knew. Yet where Umbacano Manor had a cold, oppressive feel to it, Nerussa's private chamber was warm and inviting. Like rose petals spread across the surface of a hot bath, it beckoned one with the promise of its soft delights.

"You like it?" Nerussa smiled as she put away the last wine bottle, pausing to let her fingers linger over the label before sliding it home within the rack. "I learned a long time ago to appreciate the pleasures in life. It is the little things, like the feeling of silk upon your skin, or the taste of a fine vintage, that make life a joy to live."

"I never really thought about it," Teresa admitted with honesty. Life had always been simply a struggle to get from one day to the next for her. Things like pleasures or happiness had never entered into her imagination, at least not until now.

"You must have lived a hard life," Nerussa said what Teresa was thinking. "I can see it in your eyes. You look so sad most of the time. But when you smile, it is like the summer sun bursting from the clouds."

Teresa felt her cheeks blossom with warmth as she stared down at her new burgundy shoes. Did she really seem so glum? the forester wondered. Worse, did Nerussa feel nothing but pity for her?

"I am sorry dear, I did not mean to embarrass you." the Altmer woman laid her hands on Teresa's shoulders and let her fingers slowly trace their way down her arms. "You are like a wildflower, delicate and beautiful to behold, yet also strong enough to endure the harshest wind and rain. I admire you so much."

"You do?" Teresa wondered, raising her head to look into Nerussa's eyes. She saw no pity there, nor subterfuge.

"Indeed," Nerussa took Teresa's hands in her own and gently squeezed, "Aelwin told me how brave you were when you killed those slaughterfish for him. I wish I had the kind of courage that people like you do. I am afraid to even think of what you faced to get that wine."

"Oh, it was not that bad, only a few skeletons and a ghost," Teresa did smile then, albeit only faintly. Not that bad at all, she thought to herself, aside from nearly being killed...

"Only one of those things would send me running and screaming to the nearest castle!" Nerussa exclaimed, her eyes brilliant with light, "you are so very courageous!"

Teresa turned her head down again as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks once more. She never liked it when people complimented her. It made her worry that they wanted something from her in return. Why else would someone say something kind? she thought. For some reason it only felt worse when it was about fighting. All she ever did was survive, it was people like Martin Septim and his father who deserved praise, for they had not.

"But what am I thinking?" the sound of Nerussa's voice made her look back up. The Altmer finally let go of her hands, and with a smile she ambled to the delicately carved writing desk. Using another key from her ring, she opened one of its lower drawers and drew forth a small chest. Unlocking that with yet another key, she counted out gold coins and put them in a small pouch.

"The least I can do is pay you for the wine. Ten septims a bottle, as we agreed." Locking up the chest when she was finished, Nerussa returned with the pouch and passed it to Teresa. "I just hope you were not harmed doing it."

"Oh I'm fine, nothing a few healing potions couldn't fix up," Teresa said, once more not thinking of her words until after they had spilled from her lips. She was not sure if she should feel grateful for the look of concern that suddenly crested upon Nerussa's finely-shaped features, or curse herself for being so doltish to admit the danger.

"I'm only joking," Teresa added quickly, and Nerussa seemed to relax, "I really am fine."

"Look at me, acting like an ivory tower princess," Nerussa rolled her eyes, "I am sure you do this monster-slaying all the time. I could tell when I first set eyes on you that you were a seasoned fighter."

Teresa tried to think of how to tell her that she was not, when suddenly the Altmer looked up.

"Oh goodness, I have to get back down to the common room!" she exclaimed with an infectious grin that prompted a wide smile from Teresa as well. "Those fishermen will drink all of my ale without paying for a drop! I'll go broke, and there will be no more wine for either of us!"

"You will stay the night, won't you Teresa?" Nerussa asked as she led the wood elf into the hallway and locked her bedroom door behind her. "We have never really been able to spend time together."

Teresa's breath caught at Nerussa's final words, and she wondered if the statuesque woman meant them the way that she hoped.

"I would like that very much," Teresa admitted with more than just a faint smile.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 04:02 AM