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

[mALX]

These last two chapters were among my faves in the original version at the BGSF. From early on in the story you developed Vols character to such a degree that the reader feels as drawn to him as to Teresa herself. These last two chapters open up insights into Vols history that at first may be shocking in revelation, but in consideration one can see how they shaped the Vols we see today.

Your ability to make living, breathing believable characters is a gift.

[Winter Wolf]

I don't have a military bone in my whole body (unlike every body else on this forum, lol) and have no love for the politicians who send our kids to war; however, I could not help but feel something strange inside when I read the last few chapters about Vols. Wow!! So real, so vivid, and with just the right amount of description and info. Military life sings off the screen when you write, no doubt about it.

I loved the banter between the two soldiers, it is always amazing to listen to close relatives or friends say things to each other that they would never say to strangers. Birds of a feather flock together.

Great to see Vols ruminating about Simplicia and getting caught in mid-thought when she looked up at him. Ha, ha, so true!!

[Linara]

So I missed four or so posts, but I do have a few things to say. One: I haven't read better history since Churchill's 'Birth of Britain'. Sounds like Herminia is Cyrodiil's Zinn! Another thing, Vols is, once again, a great character. To quote Wolf :

don't have a military bone in my whole body (unlike every body else on this forum, lol) and have no love for the politicians who send our kids to war; however, I could not help but feel something strange inside when I read the last few chapters about Vols. Wow!! So real, so vivid, and with just the right amount of description and info. Military life sings off the screen when you write, no doubt about it.

Precisely. The chapters from his point of view are always both wonderful and touching. And Vols calling Teresa 'Red'...I've read so may books where the main character is called that by the dashing con man, soldier, etc. I have to admit that brought much more than a faint smile! And thank you for the book recommendations, they were very helpful. A certain Dunmer may have to incorporate these

This post has been edited by Linara: Nov 13 2010, 01:22 AM

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Deruptured it is then, 'o lady of the horse.

I am glad the speech worked. I had a lot of trouble with it both times around, because I was worried about it sounding too sappy and canned. That was why I wove in his own memories with it, so it was grounded in reality, rather than being idealistic philosophy.


Acadian: Praise indeed from our resident paladin. You hit all the things I was looking to do on the head. From fixing the decanus to pitying the new recruits of the Fifth Legion.


D.Foxy: Thank you Foxy. As I said to h.e.r., I struggled to make Vols beliefs and motivations feel genuine rather than that of the stereotypical superhero. It is a relief that it worked!


Destri Melarg: That is true, I do like writing heroes. People who eventually rise above their faults and make something better of themselves and the world around them. Of course Teresa would be the first to insist that she's not a hero though...


Remko: A pic of Centurion Vols!

It is spelled sergeant. I always have trouble with that one too. You are thinking of the incomparable R. Lee Ermey, a rl Marine who played Sgt. Hartman in FMJ.


treydog: I think Dale Dye would be perfect for Adamus Phillida. I have been a fan of his since Platoon. He is always good as "the commander" because of being one irl. R. Lee Ermey would work for the same reason.


mALX: Thank you. Vols has always been a popular character. My guess is because he is such a strong (i.e. non-pussified) male presence in what is otherwise very much a chick story. His testosterone helps make up for all the estrogen percolating in the TF.


Winter Wolf: Thank Wolf. Vols is always fun to write, for the reasons I mentioned to mALX above. He is a nice shift in gears for me after writing Teresa.


Linara: Good call on Howard Zinn! Yes indeed, that is Herminia. I think I have read or seen the same movies as you, because I have always loved the redhead being called "Red" by the other characters. It was a pleasure to finally come across a character who would do it in the TF.


Next: Now that she has learned more about the Ayleids and meddled in Vols' life, Teresa is back out on the road again. First, she makes a brief layover in Weye...


Chapter 23.1 – The Rider

12th - 16th Last Seed, 3E433

Teresa stepped into Weye with a faint smile on her lips. The main street was busy with Bretons going about their daily routines, while a glance to her right revealed numerous small fishing boats dotting the azure waves of Lake Rumare. Teresa nodded to the villagers as she walked by each. She had been here enough times to know them all by sight now, even if not by name. Some greeted her kindly, while others just snickered.

The latter usually did not bother her any more. Not much. But Teresa thought there were more of them than normal as her feet took her past the livery. She saw the handful of horses owned by the villagers in a corral beside the long wooden stable. Most were huge, bulky chestnuts with blond-colored manes and thick feathers around their ankles. Placid and quiet, they ambled around the enclosure in a slow, steady gait.

One caught her eye however, a raven-black gelding with a luxurious mane and bushy tail. He was smaller than the others, with a head only a little above Teresa's, yet still possessed a deep chest and sturdy legs that spoke of the power within him. Unlike the other horses, he pranced about the corral with a high-stepping gait. Graceful and nimble-footed, he was the kind of fine steed that patricians sometimes rode in the city, or the knights had ridden at Bruma.

Screenshot

And who are you? Teresa wondered as she stared at the black. He was not from around here, of that she was certain. Just as she knew the villagers on sight, Teresa knew their horses. Where the farm animals reminded Teresa of lumbering Nord giants, this black was a sleek and powerful Redguard.

With the mystery of the new horse still tickling at the back of her mind, Teresa stepped to the door of the Wawnet Inn. She found it was locked when she tried to open it. Well that is odd, Teresa thought as she rapped on the door. Nerussa usually opened up by now. The only times she had known the Altmer to lock it during the day were when they had been alone together…

"Nerussa, are you home?" Teresa called out, stepping back from the door and looking up to the windows lining the second floor. After a moment her eyes caught movement in the one that looked out from Nerussa's room. Then a pair of amber-shaded hands slid the glass pane open, and the high elf leaned out.

The innkeeper's golden hair was unbound, spilling across her head and shoulders like a waterfall of honey. Her gold-tinted skin was flushed, and a smile crossed her burgundy lips as she gazed down to the street.

"Teresa, I wasn't expecting you!" she cried. "Give me a moment to come down." The high elf stood, and for the briefest instant Teresa glimpsed her naked frame though the window. Then the innkeeper vanished deeper into the room.

Teresa waited, and when she glanced back up at the window a few moments later, it was a bare-chested man who returned her gaze. Dark hair spilled to his shoulders in a tangled mane, and a short beard clung to his fair skin. What she could see of his frame was somewhat slight, but finely proportioned. His every muscle firmly toned and standing out in stark relief. He stared down at her with a look of curiosity, and ran one hand though the tousled locks of his hair.

That is when it all came together in Teresa's mind. The fine horse in the corral, the locked door, Nerussa's nakedness…

By the time that the sound of the bolt being thrown back came to Teresa's ears, she was certain that her skin had lost its fine white color in exchange for plum red. Good gods, what had she been thinking? She had always known that Nerussa had other lovers, yet somehow she had never expected to ever see them, let alone walk in on one. Was there ever a bigger fool in the world, she thought?

Then the door opened, and Nerussa's statuesque frame filled Teresa's vision. She had put on a pink silk robe decorated with images of swans and flowers, with only a thin belt of the same material looped around her waist to keep it from falling open. A belt which Teresa could see was already loose. She knew that with just a simple touch of her finger it would slide away and spill the thin garment open.

"Teresa," Nerussa breathed, "come in and meet Valerius. I think you will like him. I know he will like you." The high elf's hand reached out to take Teresa's own leather-clad forearm. The next thing the Bosmer knew, the door was clacking shut behind her, and Nerussa's soft frame was pressed against her own.

Teresa lost herself in the other woman's kiss, as she always did. It was not until she felt the Altmer's hands undoing the clasp in front of her greaves that the world swam back into focus. A glance down revealed her arrow bag and potion belt littering the floor at their feet. How had they gotten there? Teresa wondered. Then she felt Nerussa's fingers slip down the front of her greaves, and reached down to catch the other woman's wrist.

"Nerussa, I can't," she gasped. "He's right in the other room!"

"Not any more he's not."

Teresa and Nerussa both turned to see the man standing at the top of the stair. He was wearing nothing but a grin, and Teresa could see that it was not only his muscles that were finely proportioned…

"Please don't let me disturb you," he said, that smile still etched across his features. Now he crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. Up close now, Teresa found that he was young, barely a few years older than herself. By his light skin and pale blue eyes, she imagined him a Colovian, or possibly even a Breton. Even though he was most clearly a man, his delicate features could only be called beautiful. So much so that Teresa briefly wondered if he wore the beard to look more masculine.

Yet the soft skin of his face was marred by scars. One ran from his scalp to the inner tip of his left eyebrow, and another cut across the side of his cheek on the same side of his face. If nothing else, they dispelled the image of softness that otherwise might have clung to him. So too did the stiffness in his pose, the squared shoulders and straight back that legionaries and members of the Fighters Guild always seemed to possess. Teresa briefly wondered if Vols might have looked similar if he had been born to wealth and privilege.

"Pray, continue my ladies." His eyes burned with a barely contained fire as he stared at the elven women.

Screenshot

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 12 2016, 05:06 AM

[D.Foxy]

You know, reading this brings back memories...many think that getting into a threesome with two women is supposed to be ball-clenching sword -tthrobbing erotic...and yet, IF, IF the women in question are creatures of not just flesh but the aetheral fire of spirit as well, it is frequently anything but - for the sexuality of a true homosexual is not (contrary to the wet dreams of puberescent males) easily switchable from AC to DC. Frequently it's not switchable at all.

[haute ecole rider]

Rosa, you had me until the very last screen shot. Then you totally lost me.

I know you wanted to emphasize the androgyny of Valerius, but even with the beard, this guy is still waaayyyy too emo for me! When I picture someone lean, well proportioned, muscular, and yet smouldering, that's not what I imagine. So excuse me for hanging on to my own mental picture.

But I have to say that I totally dug the first two screenshots!

FYI: Yes, Dale Dye is a RL (retired) Marine. He now works in the film field not as an actor, but as a trainer of actors. He teaches guys who never held a gun how to move, how to scout, how to recon, and how to signal. That is part of the appeal of movies like Platoon, Saving Private Ryan, and Band of Brothers (among others) for me. Part of his pay for training these guys is that he gets a bit of screen time as the soldier's soldier. I can spot his touch in a heartbeat, even before that handsome white-topped face shows up on the screen.

If I see actors move and act in a certain way in the field (training or combat), I know he's going to show up. He's a huge part of what makes such movies so real for me.

[mALX]

I've gotta go with my own image:






Oops, he doesn't have a beard. Oh well.



*

This post has been edited by mALX: Nov 13 2010, 07:58 PM

[Acadian]

Smoldering is right! Your writing smoothly delivered just the precise dose of spice here.

It seems so natural for Nerussa to not be the slightest bit off-kilter - even gracious - in the reception of her surprise visitor. And just as natural for Teresa's skin to live up to Vols' nickname for her. I am quite curious as to how Teresa will respond here - I'll let you know if my suspicions are correct.

What a wonderful job you have done with Weye! I love the stables! Oh, those chestnut draft horses with white accents are so very wonderful. Buffy had the opportunity to ride one of the gentle giants not too long ago:
Screenshot

This post has been edited by Acadian: Nov 13 2010, 08:07 PM

[Destri Melarg]

Bless you, Acadian, for not subjecting us to more pretty-boy pictures! Androgyny, androgyny everywhere!!

Where the farm animals reminded Teresa of lumbering Nord giants, this black was a sleek and powerful Redguard.

Aren’t we all?

I loved Teresa’s dawning realization of the situation that she has blundered into. Maybe next time Nerussa will pack a ton of bricks that she can throw from the window to bridge Teresa’s gap on the uptake.

[Linara]

Bless you, Acadian, for not subjecting us to more pretty-boy pictures! Androgyny, androgyny everywhere!!

I'll second that. Nice screenies in the chapter Rosa. Usually I think of Red in 'The Goddess of Fried Okra', but there are many more...Well that situation sounds a little awkward. As always though, I love those small village descriptions, my favorite places. Very nice.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: Truer words have not been spoken. As much as Girl On Girl Is Hot, straight males just never clue in to the fact that lesbians do not have any use for them. Probably because mainstream media is filled with Bait and Switch Lesbians.

Rest assured though, Teresa is not a club lesbian, as she will soon find proved. Nerussa on the other hand, is not bound by categories.

Funny thing is, I have been in a threesome with two other women. But neither of them were really lesbians (just fauxs). Just as in your case, it is not something I have any desire to do again.

Still, one thing very common among homosexuals is that they often have at least one heterosexual experience, if not years of it. Again, myself included here. My mother always told me that you have to try it before know you don't like it after all...

haute ecole rider & mALX: Those guys just look too soft. I wanted someone who was raised in the lap of luxury, but has scars from actual action. That is why I went with Hephaestion.

Still, if its going to be a battle of the pretty boys, I have to throw out Da Masta (at least without getting into anime).


Acadian: I suspect you suspect correctly.

And thank you for the links. It is funny how one of the Zina's puts the stable right at Weye! Talk about synergy.


Destri Melarg: You had me rolling with the ton of bricks! Indeed, perhaps Nerussa should pack them!

I knew you would like the Redguard line. H.e.r. said the same to me as well. I fought to keep it in my many edits just because of that.


Linara: The Goddess of Fried Okra looks pretty neat. I wish I had more time for reading these days.


Next: Teresa has walked in on Nerussa with another lover. Next, she tries a new dish.


Chapter 23.2 – The Rider

"See, I told you he would like you." Nerussa giggled, and Teresa had to stop the innkeeper's hand from once more plunging down the front of her leather pants.

"I can't," Teresa nearly stammered, keenly aware of the Colovian staring at both of them. "I just came to say goodbye."

Now Nerussa did stop, and took a moment to pull her robe across her chest and tie it shut once more. She sighed. "Teresa, I was always completely honest with you about my life. I never led you on."

"I don't mean that… I mean… I'm not leaving like that." Teresa glanced at the Colovian before looking back into Nerussa's golden eyes. "I'm heading south, to Bravil. I'll probably be gone for the rest of the year, maybe longer."

"Oh," the high elf breathed, taking a moment to draw the errant locks of hair from her delicate features. "Looking for more of your ruins are you? I wish you wouldn't do that. You know how dangerous they are."

"I have to," Teresa insisted.

"Look, I'll give you the money," Nerussa continued. "Just keep making potions, and you can pay me back a little at a time. I don't care if it takes fifty years, or a hundred, we both have the time."

Teresa did smile then. Nerussa genuinely cared for her, of that the wood elf could be certain. She had never heard the former courtesan talk of loaning money to anyone in all the time she had known her, let alone thousands of drakes.

"It's not just about the money," Teresa said, biting her lip. "This is just something I have to do. I can't explain it. I just have to."

"Then at least stay here today, you can always go tomorrow." Nerussa laid her hands gently upon the wood elf's armored hips, then glanced up at the man on the stair. "Valerius doesn't mind the extra company, do you my lord?"

"I would be honored." The Colovian bowed deeply, and when he rose once more his eyes were glittering with light. "As a true gentleman, I am always at the service of a lady, or two…"

Teresa felt herself flushing once again, yet not from passion. She hurried to re-clasp her greaves and reached down for her belt and arrows. "I can't do that," she murmured, intensely aware of how both of them were staring at her, not to mention what they were offering. "That is just not - me."

The Colovian shrugged, but it was Nerussa who caught her attention as the high elf's arms drew her close. Teresa felt the taller woman's frame enfold her, and closed her eyes in delight. They spent long moments in one another's arms, and when they parted it was only so Nerussa could plant a soft, warm kiss upon her lips.

"Write to me, and let me know you are well," Nerussa breathed as their lips drew away. "Just address your letters to the Inn. In addition to being keeper of the ale, I am also the postmaster here in Weye."

"I will," Teresa sighed. She stepped away, all of her gear once more solidly attached to her leather-bound frame. Then she looked into Nerussa's eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was furiously kissing the other woman. Bravil could wait, she told herself, at least for a while longer.

* * *

That afternoon Teresa found herself hiking south along the shore of Lake Rumare. The placid waves of the lake gently lapped beyond her left shoulder, while rolling farmland stretched away to her right. Just as the land between the Imperial City and Sideways had been crammed with tilled fields and pastures, so to was the entire stretch of countryside south of Weye.

It was strange, the wood elf found herself ruminating, for to the north it was all wilderness, with only a few rare settlements and lone homesteads. She wondered what made people decide to settle in the south, but not the north? Perhaps the soil was better down here?

She had not remained with Nerussa for as long as she had expected, even after she decided to stay after all. Or that is after her body decided to stay, for Teresa knew well enough that her brain had little to do with the matter. At least the tryst had made one thing perfectly clear, Teresa ruminated, men were definitely not on the menu.

She continued long into the night, enjoying the sparkling of the starlight upon the lake. Nerussa likes me, she found herself thinking. Yet the high elf definitely did not love her. The more Teresa thought about it, the more she found that did not bother her at all. Life was good, and if Nerussa had taught her anything, it was to appreciate all the joys within it, in whatever measure they came.

The forester came upon the ruin of Fanacasecul as the sun rose the next day. Half of the remaining spires of the Ayleid city rose from the waves of the lake, embraced by the white petals of sacred lotus and bright purple water hyacinth. Teresa was struck by the haunting beauty of the scene, and sat for nearly an hour along the shore, just staring with wonder as the sun broke over the ruin.

As with Belda, for a moment she found herself seeing the graceful walls and spires as they once were, thousands of years before. Elves as pale as she was roamed the streets, along with humans, Khajiit, and Argonians. The latter wore iron collars however, and never lifted their gazes to meet their master's stares.

Then just as quickly as it came, the vision was gone. Teresa rose with the sound of flapping raven's wings, and made her way into the ruin. Yet nothing greeted her but dust and mudcrabs. The site had long since been picked clean by treasure-hunters, she imagined. With settlements all around it was no wonder.

Continuing on her way, Teresa came upon a castle in the afternoon. Unlike Castle Magia, this one still flew the Imperial Dragon banner, and was bustling with soldiers. Well, perhaps not bustling, Teresa thought to herself as the road drew her past its gates. The soldiers actually seemed very sparse, and were greatly outnumbered by the people in the farming village next door.

Castle Virtue, Teresa saw the sign at its gate read. Stopping to take out her map, she drew in a small symbol of a tower along with its name. Going back to where she remembered Fanacasecul, she added that as well. There, she thought to herself as she folded the map and placed it back in her pack, now she was a proper explorer.

Teresa stopped for the night at the castle, and continued on the next day with the lake always at her left shoulder. In time the water moved from being to her east, to being to her north instead. As the day wore on she passed over a stone bridge that spanned a river flowing down to the lake from the hills in the south. She continued to pass numerous farming and fishing villages along the way, and like those on the Blue Road outside of Cheydinhal, all bore strong walls and ditches.

She was struck by how different they were to Weye. The little Breton fishing village bore no defenses at all. Yet it was just outside the Imperial City, Teresa thought to herself, only a short ride away for the Imperial Legion. The many villages and towns between Sideways and the capital had been the same. They had no need for defenses when most of the Fifth Legion was camped on their doorsteps.

Yet these settlements south of the lake would not have defenses unless they felt a need for them, Teresa mused. She strung her bow and continued on, paying extra attention to the deep forests that rose upon the higher ground in the south.

Yet her journey was uneventful for the rest of the day, and as twilight close in she crossed another stone bridge that spanned a river emptying into Lake Rumare. At the edge of the lake beyond it Teresa found the busy port town of Pell's Gate. It reminded her of Sideways and Urasek, not in the least because of the ferries she saw tied up to its docks for the night. A hot bath, warm meal of soup in bread, and several glasses of tangy shein made the night go by pleasantly. Then the next morning she was on her way once more.

[Linara]

Well Teresa seems to have escaped that situation relatively unscathed...The fact that she realizes that Nerussa does not love her means the faint smiler is growing up ever faster! And of course rumination on why the north is so sparsely settled. A good solid piece of writing.

Yes, the Goddess of Fried Okra is good, although surprisingly dense. There are some definite similarities between Brashear's characters and yours.

Elves as pale as she was roamed the streets, along with humans, Khajiit, and Argonians. The latter wore iron collars however, and never lifted their gazes to meet their master's stares.

This reminds me of a scene in Avempartha, by Micheal Sullivan, although it was in reverse.

[haute ecole rider]

A great way to extricate oneself from an awkward situation!

And more world-building! Cool! I loved how you recreated familiar landmarks into something more than a pile of stones there and a couple of thatched roofs here.

And all hail Da Masta! Yes, the hottest and the manliest of the pretty boys! Most of the others (including Hephaestion, sorry - big round eyes just don't do it for me) are just, well, pretty.

On the other hand, for Destri's sake, I do enjoy a good bit of beefcake.

[mALX]

A great way to extricate oneself from an awkward situation!

And more world-building! Cool! I loved how you recreated familiar landmarks into something more than a pile of stones there and a couple of thatched roofs here.

And all hail Da Masta! Yes, the hottest and the manliest of the pretty boys! Most of the others (including Hephaestion, sorry - big round eyes just don't do it for me) are just, well, pretty.

On the other hand, for Destri's sake, I do enjoy a good bit of beefcake.

Got to agree with you on the round-eyed look.

Beefcake? Try this on for size:





Rick Mora - it don't get no better!

This post has been edited by mALX: Nov 16 2010, 01:00 AM

[SubRosa]

That's not beefcake, This is beefcake!

[mALX]

That's not beefcake, This is beefcake!

Eric Cartman !!!!

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: Nah, too cute.

The ultimate beefcake movie.

How can you top so much hotness in one movie? Yul Brynner alone makes baldness and silk pajamas so damn sexy!

Sorry, Rosa! Just couldn't leave it alone! See what you started by putting in a screen shot of a hot gay man??

[mALX]

@mALX: Nah, too cute.
How can you top so much hotness in one movie? Yul Brynner alone makes baldness and silk pajamas so damn sexy!

This one has to be from "The King and I" or "Anna and the King." Good shot of Yul - did you see him in West World? Awesome !!!! (scary!)

[treydog]

Will comment on the most recent update when I have read it- may make some of my remarks here look foolish. No wait, I usually manage that without any help.

And who are you? Teresa wondered as she stared at the black. He was not from around here, of that she was certain.

You know, this highlights a point that has often bothered me about Westerns. The people lived around horses day in and day out- they would know who rode which horse the same way we know who drives which car. And yet, the “good guys” hardly ever seem to take the fundamental step of noticing if there are any strange horses along the street- or who might be riding them. /rant off

And now all thoughts of horses are driven from my mind. I wonder how Teresa will react to this… invitation. As always the writing is excellent, even though the situation caught me almost as much by surprise at it has a certain stringy BosArimer.

[Cardboard Box]

Unfortunately there are a lot of dysmorphia sufferers who think this is... urgh... actually I prefer meatloaf myself.