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Apotheosis II	By : OneMoreAltmer Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Oblivion Views: 3007 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I didn't create and do not own Elder Scrolls: Oblivion or its characters (except for Tavi, within game format). I make no moneys.

Chapter List
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Thirteen � The Desired
Constellation

Setting foot in the Imperial City
had become a delight.� �Five,� I sang as
soon as I entered the Temple,
the sense of presence and bliss already wrapping around me.
He was glad of that, but dismayed at the price Stendarr had
demanded of me.� He would continue to
petition on my behalf.�
Again I slept on the floor while Jeelius warded away the
onlookers, and my love and I marveled at how simultaneously beautiful and awful
this limited form of togetherness was.� How
the pain was at once smoothed because we could feel each other and stirred back up because we could not touch.�
Again he actually had to remind me to go.
But remember what we
said in Bruma, he said.� And then,
because I did not dare say it and guess it wrong, he repeated it to me.� You are
my wife, whether the world knows it or not.�
If you are still willing.
I wished he could at least be tangible for one moment, so
that I could throw my arms around him.� I
had to settle for misty eyes and my usual kind of retort.� �If I were not willing, it would be foolish
to do so much work.�
I learned on coming out of the Temple that this time, the people Jeelius was
blocking were not only coming to worship but specifically to see me.� Some were still there, and they commented my
presence cheerfully.� It was true, they
smiled, I had refounded the Knights of the Nine and
taken up a life devoted to the Dragonborn and the gods.� What a relief, after the horrible rumors that
had begun to swarm around me, that I was proving anew my faith and my loyalty
to Tamriel.� How horrible and misguided
the people were who said I had fallen into darkness.
Yes.� Well.� I was better now, anyway.
Fort
Bulwark, the last known
location of the Shield, was far to the southeast, near the border.� I knew when I met the first conjurer outside that
it had been taken over. I should have known when I had to run back and forth
between four different gates and handles to open the way I needed, that the
whole place would be a mess of puzzles and traps.� Apparently followers of Julianos were even
fonder of such things than Ayleids.
The fights with the conjurers and their daedra were
enjoyable, except for the care I had to take with fatigue spells and
potions.� I learned from notes I found
among their things that they were aware of the Shield and were having trouble
reaching it, and also that somewhere, they had a prisoner who was either dead
or soon to be killed for refusing to help them.
After navigating a set of pressure plates that had to be
triggered in order, I found his cell.� He
was a statuesque Redguard with plaited hair, who stood and faced me sternly
when I opened the door.� He thought he
was bravely facing his death.
�I am not a conjurer,� I whispered.� �I am here for the Shield.�
�So are they,� he frowned, and would say nothing else.
At last I stepped aside and gestured him through the open
door.� �I am not with them.� Look, you�re free to go.� You needn�t help me, just go.�
He stepped through, and when I did not stop him, his
expression changed over to relief and wonder.�
�Thank the Nine.� I am
Thedret.�� He bowed and took up my hand.
I cleared my throat uncomfortably.� �Tintaviel.�
�I�ve heard of you,� he smiled.� �But never caught a
glimpse.� I am saved by no less
than the Champion of Cyrodiil!� I would
never have believed that everything I have heard said about you was true.��
I raised my eyebrows.�
This sort of thing always made me uncomfortable anyway, and this hardly
seemed the time.
My impatience seemed to remind him of that, at least.� �I was trying to reach the Shield myself when
they captured me.� I cannot go forward
with you, I�m afraid:� I have been beaten
and half starved.� I would be useless to
you in a fight.�
�Then go,� I urged him.�
He had not released my hand.� �The
way is clear behind me.� Here, I will
give you some money for food and lodging.��
I pulled out a handful of coins, then
considered that he had no way to carry them, poured them back into their pouch,
and gave him that.
�Thank you,� he muttered, his eyes
bright.� Touched, and perhaps not
accustomed to charity.� �When I
researched this place, there was a phrase I kept finding:� When
the eyes of the Guardians are upon you, Julianos will show you favor. �Perhaps it will help you somehow.�
I nodded.� �Thank
you.� Go, before anyone comes from the
other direction.�� At that, finally, he
nodded to me and trotted back the way I had come.
The phrase referred to a set of statues that had to be
turned to face the center of the room.� Before I could do that, of course, there were more conjurers to
burn and traps to avoid.� Turning
the statues opened a secret door that led to an even more obnoxious puzzle,
this one revolving around someone named Rodgar and his various belongings.� It seemed to take forever, but eventually
another secret door opened and led me, at last, to the Shield.
I sat there and rested beside it for a while before picking
it up.� Even under my spells I was
feeling weary, and feeling with especial keenness my knowledge that even though
my love was no longer quite lost to me, he could not pass his hands over my
aching flesh or hold me while I slept.�
That made me feel even more tired, and it was some time before I
regathered my strength and brought the Shield out to Shadowmere.
I also did not push myself to hurry back to the Priory, even
though Shadowmere did not share my weakness.�
In fact, I went down to Leyawiin first, the nearest city, crawled into
the Mages� Guild hall, and slept for days before going north.� When I arrived at the Priory I was greeted by
a shocking throng of people.� Areldur had
come down from Chorrol to ask me to let him join, as well as two Nord brothers
who had heard of us all the way in Skyrim.�
The Knights had started breaking ground in the garden plot, cleaned the
house, and brought in furniture.
Leading the efforts as if he had always been there was
Thedret, who dropped to one knee before me.�
Unlike the others, he was not content to ask my permission.� �I owe you my life,� he proclaimed, �and I am
in your service.� I will not be sent
away.�
Oh dear.� �Not my service,� I protested.� �We are the Knights of the Nine.�
He grinned and rose to his feet, then began to report to
me.� He�d sent for his own smith to come
and serve at the Priory:� apparently he
was a gentleman of some means.� Routines
for combat training, dining, chores, and prayer had been established.� In other words, he was doing all the
practical work of founding an Order that I had failed to do.� His chief regret was that none of us had been
present for the incident in
Bravil:� the chapel of the goddess of
love had been defaced with strange writing and the priesthood killed.
I dropped to my own knees, without Thedret�s grace.� I growled, but did nothing else as I felt the
energy drain back out of me, sapped by mere frustration.� This was impossible.� I didn�t have a lead on the last two relics,
and I was never going to keep up with the Aurorans under Stendarr�s curse.
Thedret leapt forward and helped me to my feet, then walked
with me, supporting much of my weight.�
He led me up the stairs to a private room and laid me on the bed.
�They told me about the curse,� he said quietly.� �How you go on with your quests, no stronger
than I was when you found me.�
�Please don�t make so much of it.�
He nodded and left me there to rest, but had one of the
others bring food and drink to me.
I spent an alarming number of days recuperating, although to
some extent it was pointless.� Now that
my focus on keeping myself going with spells had lapsed, it was difficult to
gather the will to start casting them again.�
Eventually Avita brought me potions, and those gave me the energy to
come out and use her equipment to start making myself a reserve of them.� I started trying to establish the spells that
kept me moving into my daily routine, to make them automatic to me so that I
would not run myself to the point of collapse again.� I watched the Knights practice, leafed
through the books they had brought, talked idly with some of them.� I dreamed of arms that could not hold me, and
woke morose and lonely.
Interminable weariness that carried me no
closer to him.� I should be out
searching the world for the last relics.�
Turning over every ruin in Cyrodiil stone by stone, if
only I had been myself, if only I�d had the energy.
Through all this, Sir Thedret was particularly attentive.� I did not discourage him any more:� he was strong enough to help me up when I
forgot to fortify myself adequately, and intelligent enough to discuss the
works in our little library, and noble of purpose enough to remind me of my
time among the Blades.� I did not remark
on how he came to monopolize tasks having to do with me directly.
One evening he brought my dinner up to me.� I had stupidly gone to practice with the
others without thickening my protective tissue of spells accordingly, and I was
still recovering.� He pulled a chair up
next to the bed as I sat up to eat.
�May I speak freely, Commander?�� He paused awkwardly.� �Tintaviel?�
�Yes.�
But he did not speak at all.�
He took my hand and sat with it for a moment, and then he leaned in and
kissed my cheek.
�Thedret � �� He moved to my lips, cutting me short.
For one moment, it felt divine.� I had been going without this kind of
physical comfort since Lucien, and Lucien himself had not been precisely comforting.� I�d been alone �
Then I remembered why, and recoiled from the poor man.
�Do I offend you?� he murmured, not quite pulling away.
�No.� You are a fine
man.�� I touched a reassuring hand to his
cheek, and should not have:� he took it
as encouragement and began to kiss me again, deeper.�� This time I pushed him away with more
conviction.� �What I mean,� I began
again, �is that I cannot.� I am pledged
to the Dragonborn.�
Now he did pull back, looking depressed.� �Ah.�
You�ve taken a vow of celibacy.� I
should have guessed as much.� I apologize.�
I thought, Not
celibacy, fidelity; but I did not want to have to explain the distinction,
especially not if I had already hurt his feelings.� �You will have your choice of young women,� I
said instead.� �But my destiny is already
set.�
He nodded and rose glumly to leave me to my rest.� �I will not find her soon,� he said over his
shoulder.� �One cannot see stars when the
sun is shining.�
Oh dear.� I settled
back into the pillow I was leaning against, and glanced skyward.� �If you are watching,� I whispered, �know
that the Nord pirate has been repelled.�
The next morning I felt mobile again after a potion and my
first round of spells, so I went down to breakfast with the others.� For that reason, I was there for the arrival
of Lathon, Sir Roderic�s squire, who promptly threw himself on the floor in
front of me.
He and Sir Roderic had finished their circuit of wayshrines,
and Roderic had received a vision � not of Pelinal, but of Sir Berich, who had
persuaded them to come and find his relics first, and thus free his unrestful
spirit.� They�d been led to a cave up
toward Bruma, where they had found themselves overwhelmed by the undead.� Sir Roderic himself had fallen to a wraith
wielding what Lathon suspected was the Sword.
All the same, he said, he himself had escaped with his life,
along with a prize he hoped would prove his intentions and persuade me to let
him join the Order.�

He had the Greaves.
I had him put them with the rest of the relics, and then
accepted his petition to join us.� And
then told him to lead me to the cave where Sir Roderic had fallen.
�I�m going with you,� Sir Thedret said at once.
�You are not.�
�You need my help,� he insisted, eyes burning.
�The Sword is not our only task!� I snapped.� �Someone must keep watch for more news of the
Aurorans.� Someone must make sure these
people are ready for real combat when we find Umaril.� I need your help here.�
He scowled but nodded.�
�Then wear the holy armor.� I know
you can feel the healing power that is in it.�
It will help you keep yourself strong.�
That was certainly true.�
I looked around at all the others watching us, and then slowly shook my
head.� �No.� I told Sir Amiel that I meant to wear the
armor only once.�
Sir Thedret glared at me, nodded, then
pulled Lathon aside as I went to prepare my things.
Again the awful slowness of waiting for a
horse that was not Shadowmere.� Days of riding.� We went
up through the Imperial
City, of course, and I
made Lathon wait with Jeelius while I went inside.
�Seven,� I said, leaning into one of the pillars around the statue
and letting it support my weight.� �I am
so tired, Martin.�
We�re almost there, my
love, he whispered.� When you have Arkay�s Sword, everything will
fall into place.� The Prophet is already
on his way.� Be strong for just a bit
longer, and let your Order help you.
�They are not my
Order,� I insisted, but still forced myself to turn and walk back out to where
Lathon waited, listening to Jeelius opine about the relationship between the
Dragonborn and the other gods.
When we dismounted at the mouth of the cave, Lathon pulled
down a satchel to bring with him.� I
looked at him skeptically, and he produced a torch from it.
�Not good for sneaking,� I said.
�But quite good for seeing,� he countered, already lighting
it.
�I want you to stay out here and wait for me.�
He shook his head.� �I
have already been asked to refuse when you said that.� And leaving the Knight unaided is not the
task of the squire.�
I wanted to scream You are not my squire!
but thought of Martin�s words and held my tongue.� Instead I nodded and said, �But stay behind
me.�� To that he agreed.
The cave was actually the entrance to a buried keep, and the
opposition offered in the cave proper was minimal.� As I investigated the three doors into the
keep, Lathon shouted, �Commander!�
�What?�
He held up a bottle.� �Potion.�
I frowned in annoyance.�
�What?�
�For fatigue,� he said calmly.� �My instructions were to make sure you drank
one at every respite, whether or not you thought to ask for it.�
Thedret.� I swigged down the potion and slapped the
empty bottle back into Lathon�s waiting hand.�
He smiled, fulfilled in his duty and indifferent to my mood.
The door in the middle, I decided.� But immediately the room on the other side
branched three ways again.� This time I
cleared the side passages first of their various undead things.� Though I could not bring myself to say so, I
was grateful to both Lathon and Thedret for the steady supply of potions, which
made the work tolerable.� � Tolerable, when it should have been
easy.� But there it was, Stendarr�s
�mercy.�� I would have to make do.
Down the center next:� I had to hold Lathon back from walking into a
cave-in.� Through another doorway,
and Lathon led me silently � little point to that, given the torch � down a way he had come from Sir
Roderic, whose body lay in the little room where he fell, right next to the
tomb marked as belonging to Sir Berich Vlindrel.
In the great flooded room beyond was the wraith
himself.� I had been kept fresh by my
assistant, and Berich posed me little more challenge than any other such
creature.� I had the Sword.
It was, however, itself a problem.� He had tainted it somehow:� I could feel the evil seeping from the
blade.� I would have to have it
reconsecrated, and Arkay�s Chapel was in Cheydinhal.� It seemed like such a long way.
After I�d drunk another potion from Lathon, I told him to
stay and arrange for the transport of Roderic�s body to wherever he would have
intended to be laid to rest, and of Sir Berich�s body to the Priory, where he
could be reunited with his brothers in the Order as Sir Amiel had wished.� After the bones had been blessed and thus
quieted by the first available priest.
I rode up to Bruma, where my own stony likeness greeted me,
her eyes and her light lifted upward as if she�d known all along where she�d
been headed.� I opened up my old house,
disturbing the layer of dust that had begun to settle over the treasures from
my best days.� Despite my impatience I
forced myself to sleep there the night, to add that little token of physical
recuperation to the pile of spells.
In the morning I sat at my desk with pen and paper and
collected my thoughts, with a silent plea to Martin, to the Nine, and to
Mephala.
I think I can see the
plan unfolding:� I think I can see the
gift you mean to give me.� But I still do
not quite understand it.� Help me to walk
in the right direction.
I wrote a will, dispensing my things.� The staff of Indarys must go back to the
Count of Cheydinhal, and the Imperial Dragon Armor be donated to the Temple of the One.� Almost everything else was to be sold, and
the money to be used to help the ongoing restoration of Kvatch, particularly
the Chapel of Akatosh.� Before I left, I
made another set of potions to get me to Cheydinhal.
This city had its own set of memories now, not as painful as
those of Bruma and the Imperial
City had once been, but
sad and awkward.
The doors of the Chapel were thick and heavy, and I did not
hear the fighting until I had come inside.�
Aurorans.�
I ran in spraying fire � and quickly had to refocus to narrower blasts
as I realized that there were human survivors in the room.� I had not been quite too late.
Two of the four residents of the Chapel had been killed, the
others spared.� Benches had been knocked
about, but the defilement had not yet been accomplished.� After the cleanup had begun, I offered the
Sword before the altar and watched as its taint was bled away by Arkay�s power.
There.� That was all
of them.� In theory, I was ready for my
reunion with Umaril.� If
I knew where he was.� If I could
carry enough potions with me.
I mustn�t think that way.�
There was a plan:� my Mother and
my husband had promised me a plan.
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Apotheosis II