Embassy of the Aldmeri Dominion, Hjallmarch
Autumn, 5th Last Seed
Year 202 of the Fourth Era (4E202)
(Two months earlier)
The party, at least at first glance, seemed to be going well. The guests were mingling, the host was practically twirling around the room in an effort to meet and greet everyone, and the food and alcohol were plentiful. Dreugh caviar, sautéed kwama meat, and more traditional local dishes such as steamed mudcrab and kroppkakor; potato dumplings stuffed with pork, onions and spices could be seen across every platter in sight. There were dozens of other dishes that Kaius couldn't identify, but more than enough that he could. He certainly did not lack choices that were leagues above the hard tack, dried fruits and salted meat rations on his recent journeys. It was, however, very amusing to see that there were wines of every variety, some from vintages that merely opening the bottles reduced their worth by hundreds of gold septims, and yet a majority of the guests still chose to drink locally brewed mead.
As it was to be expected, a party such as this, being held in the Aldmeri Dominion’s Embassy was currently filled with the great and powerful. Jarls, Thanes, merchant-princes, representatives of the East Empire Trading Company, and even High Queen Elisif were in attendance, and Kaius could barely step in any one direction without bumping into one of the most powerful individuals in Skyrim and the Empire. Most he didn't know outside of their reputations, or from the elven herald who dutifully announced each of the guests in turn as they entered the hall, but there were a handful who were all too recognisable.
Nearest to the door as though seeking the first available opportunity to escape either the party or his ceremonial armour, was Governor-General Tullius, his armour gleaming as brightly as his expression was dark. Kaius knew Tullius, and not just from their mutual experiences from Helgen almost a full year previously. In fact, before the mountain town was razed to the ground with dragonfire, Kaius had fought alongside the aged Imperial commander in the Concordat War. Although, at that time Kaius was hidden in the armour of the Emperor, Titus Mede II, and Tullius was leading the Cyrodiilic Legions in the Battle of the Red Ring.
At that moment Kaius knew that, like him, the elderly Colovian would have preferred to have been standing on those bloodied fields surrounding Lake Rumare with gladius in hand, rather than dining with those who used to be their enemy. Unlike Kaius however, Tullius had some solace with a fellow veteran. Dressed in a similar, gleaming armour with a horsehair plumed helmet of an extraordinarii tucked in an elbow, Legate Rikke was standing close to her commander. She too was also wearing a similar stoic, yet disdainful expression at the dozens of finely dressed elves mingling with all the other local representatives and guests.
That was not to say that all the guests from the Empire, or Skyrim weren’t mingling or standing off to the side like the two highest ranking Legion commanders in the province. Some were taking the full opportunity to make connections, work towards common interests, or gain some support for themselves. Kaius’s own ‘ticket’ for entry to such an event; Jarl Balgruuf, was making his own rounds after their arrival. The Jarl was truly symbolising the neutrality of his Hold in the way that he was talking with everyone and anyone, showing a keen skill in ensuring that he didn't spend too much time with the representatives of either the Empire or the Dominion, or any of the dignitaries whose political leanings were more Stormcloak.
Some of the other guests Kaius recognised and, was also recognised by them in turn. There were a handful of fellow Thanes, but from all of the Jarls there was one in particular that they mutually knew each other from recent events; Jarl Ingrod Ravencrone. The elderly Jarl from Morthal was leaning heavily against a cane carved from a gnarled oaken branch, her fingers slowly circling the raven skull that had been carved into the grip while looking about the Embassy’s grand hall. When their eyes met as he moved past, he received a brief nod, but he could also see a gleam of amusement in the elderly woman’s clouding eyes towards him, and the faintest hints of a smile at a joke that only she seemed to know or understand.
Almost everyone of any position or authority within the province was present, with the only notable, but expected absences, were the likes of Jarl Ulfric, and the other leaders of the Stormcloak rebellion. Even if the civil war hadn’t precluded their invitations, Kaius doubted that any from the eastern Holds would have attended such an event, not that he could blame them. The past months fighting had been fierce between both Legion and Stormcloak raiders and patrols, and had no signs of abating or easing, even with increasing numbers and reports of multiple dragons appearing throughout the province. Both sides seemed oblivion-bent on murdering each other as the land they were fighting for was consumed in dragonfire, but Kaius understood, and empathised with the Stormcloaks in many ways.
It had been months. Months of travelling and journeying and fighting and if he wasn’t used to such a life, it would have been truly exhausting. It had been eight months in fact, since he and Sofia had left the Throat of the World in their quest to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from Morthal’s marshes. If he had known just how much of a nightmare such an apparently easy task would’ve been from the onset, he would’ve found an alternative. Instead it had been a series of problems to solve, one after another.
Uncovering and dealing with the Vampire coven in Morthal. Attempting to retrieve the Light of Dawn where he had hid it at Fort Dawnguard. Attempting to curry favour with the Dawnguard to lessen the pressure of the vampires, and instead encountering literal progenitors of a major strain of vampirism. And amongst all this? The gods-damned horn of Jurgen Windcaller had been stolen by a stranger as a means to personally establish contact with him. When he was being honest with himself, that was the main situation that had infuriated him. He had his reasons for being in Skyrim, and they originally had nothing to do with dragons returning after millennia of extinction, or a vampiric conspiracy from one of the first of their kind taking advantage of the chaos of a civil war. If it wasn’t for the sheer overwhelming power that the Thu’um could provide him in his endeavors, he would’ve turned away from it all and sought alternatives.
Instead, from the marshes of Morthal, to the forested lakes of the Rift and the frozen coastline of Haarfingar, he, Sofia and Lydia had travelled until finally, they returned to Whiterun Hold and met the person responsible for stealing the Windcaller’s horn. Her name was Delphine Gelevanne; A short, unassuming woman operating The Sleeping Giant inn within the forestry town of Riverwood. Certainly not someone that anyone would consider capable of sneaking through a heavily trapped, draugr infested tomb-temple in the Drajkmyr Marshes, and stealing one of the most priceless relics in all of Skyrim. Her true identity though was truly surprising.
Delphine was a Blade, and one of the last in all of Tamriel. A survivor of an order of spies and assassins hunted to extinction by the Dominion during the Great War, and the years since. Most of the thousands of secret agents, master swordsmen, and assassins in the service to the Empire had been hunted down by the Thalmor. Some had been driven underground with false identities, and a very lucky handful had been absorbed into the newer, Penitus Oculatus Imperial bodyguards. While Kaius had suspected there had been others like himself who were still alive, he never actually expected to encounter another Blade ever again.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
However, Delphine was a true survivor. Bitter, hardened, and suspicious. A mature sabrecat, hidden in the wilds with a scarred hide and sharp claws. Like himself, she had seen and experienced far too much to trust anyone other than herself, and the Thalmor finding her was an ever present fear. Also, like Kaius, discovering that she wasn’t the only surviving Blade had been something of a shock, although Kaius had decided it would be best to keep his old role of The Black Blade hidden for the time being. Neither of them would trust the other, but they would work together towards their mutual interests.
Despite everything though, their mutual interests at least were indeed mutual, and like Kaius, Delphine’s loyalties were to the Empire and the people of Tamriel. Skyrim was the lynchpin of the entire Empire, and its importance went far beyond the manpower it supplied to the Legions or the resources it produced. All the other provinces with the exception of Morrowind and High Rock had left the Cyrodiilic Empire over the past two centuries, which left Skyrim as the only province that shared borders, and most importantly, trade and supply routes between the other three Imperial provinces. If Skyrim fell, whether it be to civil war, dragonfire, or vampiric conspiracy, the Empire would find itself inexorably weakened and unable to fend off the Aldmeri Dominion’s machinations. Neither Kaius or Delphine were going to let such a thing occur, not while they drew breath, and despite his trepidation about her ultimate motives, he agreed to help.
The cause, and reason for the dragons returning from extinction needed to be discovered. Kaius, like Delphine, saw way too much coincidence in the dragons returning to Skyrim at the time where both the Empire and Dominion continued preparing to settle their differences through force of arms. The Civil War too, while significant, had been almost as disruptive as the increasing numbers of the winged creatures attacking towns, supply caravans, and practically besieging the province. Kaius knew from personal experience that the Dominion was actually covertly supplying the Stormcloaks with materiel and supplies, and so the fact that Alduin had intervened and destroyed Helgen just as the Stormcloak rebellion was about to be decapitated, both figuratively and literally, was far too suspicious.
Once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, and three times was enemy action in Kaius’ mind. Only the Dominion was benefiting from all these strange coincidences, and so Kaius agreed with Delphine to infiltrate the one place in all of Skyrim that might contain answers and evidence to what they sought; the Aldmeri Dominion’s Embassy to Skyrim.
Getting access was the easy part. Which was concerning all in itself. Delphine couldn’t do it, even with all her skills and experience as a fifty year old Blade, a random innkeeper would never get past the gate or the fence. Kaius though? A legitimate Thane of Whiterun Hold, and an ever increasingly famous dragonslayer? That was achievable. Very easily too, as it soon appeared.
After approaching Jarl Bulgruuf about attending one of the monthly held banquets at the embassy, the Jarl had been all too happy to oblige. These ‘parties’ the Dominion held, were diplomatic gatherings disguised as semi-formal events, and having his newest, and easily most renowned Thane who also happened to be the Dovahkiin by his side would be a political and diplomatic victory for Bulgruuf. Such a victory in fact would have been achieved even if he propped Kaius up in the corner somewhere like a clothier’s dummy. From there it had been ludicrously, almost bafflingly simple to walk on through the front gates at his Jarl’s side, politely escorted by elven guards and introduced to a banquet of hundreds of people as minor nobility.
Moving through the press alongside one of the tables piled with platters of food, Kaius made the show of tasting a collection of salted biscuits with scrib jelly and other unknown, but expensive substances from across Tamriel. He hated being here with every fiber of his being. Everywhere he looked there were signs of the Dominion and their Thalmor ruling class that churned his stomach with hatred, even as he tried to ease it with expensive dishes while keeping an eye out for Delphine’s contact. From the black and gold tapestries hanging from the walls that proclaimed all the glories of Alinor, the Aldmeri Dominion and elvenkind in general, to the golden armoured guards standing stiffly to attention along the walls, there was no escaping the Dominion’s overwhelming presence.
Outside a Legion or Stormcloak camp, this was by far the most heavily fortified building in all of Skyrim. Dozens of guards were within the main hall, lined up perfectly in their gilded moonstone armour plate fashioned and etched with flowing designs of feathers and eagle's wings. For a brief moment, Kaius wondered if any of the guests realised or had noticed that every single one of the guards had a pair of tiny razor blades hidden within their armoured collars that would cut into their throats unless they maintained a perfect posture at all times. He idly wondered if anyone else within the room would have even cared if they had noticed.
Even unarmed, it would have been so easy for him to have slaughtered his way through the whole lot of the damnable mer, but he knew all too well that such actions would be disastrous. If he or anyone else acted openly, any notes, details or reports would be gone in puffs of magical smoke. This required steady nerves, the will to succeed and, Kaius admitted, a lot of balls to stroll into the troll's lair.
But it didn’t help keeping the thoughts of how killing them would have been easy no matter how he tried to ignore the desire. His pulse was racing at the thought, the simple idea of siding up close to the nearest guard under the guise of leaning against the wall with a plate of scrib-jelly biscuits. The guard's sword would be in his hand before anyone could blink, cutting his throat, flicking it across and punching another off their feet. Then, he would duck across, throwing the plate, jamming the tiny bread knife into an eye before...
"My lady, may I introduce Thane Kaius Desin, of Whiterun Hold."
His name and title, being spoken aloud by a robe-wearing, elven servant accompanying a Dominion official and her bodyguards, cut Kaius’s murderous thoughts off in mid-flow and the vampiric tingling of his teeth subsided even as he revealed them in a smile. Moving through the crowd of partygoers, and obviously taking the effort to meet and greet each and every single one of the guests in turn, their host had approached Kaius, flanked by a pair of perfectly dressed and armoured Altmer. Kaius knew exactly who these particular guards were too. Oiopelin. ‘Eternal Knights;’ The Dominion’s equivalent of Extraordinarii in armour so extravagant, that they made the other merish guards dull in comparison.
Their charge though, was just as immaculately dressed in a flowing silken dress of charcoal grey and golden filigree, depicting the glories and majesty of Elf-Kind. Although, like all things Dominion, there were subtle details showing that said glories were of the Altmer alone, and did not include the Bosmer, or the Khajiit beastfolk that the Dominion also consisted of. Elenwen, the Dominion’s ambassador was the epitome of elven grace and authority, her skin perfect and unblemished, her dress pristine and with such a short distance between them Kaius could sense the enchantments in the cloth to ensure that no dust or stains would ever mar its design or its wearer in any way. Like most Altmer, Elenwen was tall, easily over two metres in height, and despite how Kaius was not short by any measure, he and most other humans still had to lean back to look the Dominion’s Ambassador to Skyrim in the eye.
“I welcome you to the Dominion’s embassy, Thane Kaius Desin. I do hope the refreshments are to your liking.”
Her graceful, yet precise gesture between the plate of scrib-jelly biscuits and the half drained glass of Colovian Brandy in his hands was unmistakable. Grinning slightly, he raised the glass in a toast to her that was only a fraction away from being mocking and disrespectful.
“Considerably. I see that you, and the Dominion have spared no expense.”
“Of course not. One does not gather the most important men and women of Skyrim, and serve them cheap ale and stale bread. This is only a taste of the benefits that accrue to those that align themselves with the Dominion’s interests.” Wandering from his boots to his expensive doublet and wolf-fur lined cloak and up to his face, Elenwen’s expression was impassive and unmoving like the armoured helmets of her chosen bodyguards, but there was something in her gaze. “I’ve seen you somewhere before…”
Like hers, Kaius’s expression never wavered, his glass of brandy lifting to his lips and taking another sip of the expensive alcohol with no sign of the shift of the turmoil in his stomach. He had seen her somewhere before as well; from one of the darkest days of his life during the height of the Concordat War…
