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Mannimarco's Vengeance	By : Marian_Valois Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls Online Views: 5941 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Author does not own the right to the Elder Scrolls Online or any of its characters, nor profit from this work.

Chapter List
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Please note that English is not my native language. I apologise for any inconvenience caused by my incomplete vocabulary or grammar errors. Also, in case there is a character spelled Medawen in the Elder Scrolls Online, she/he is not related to my story. My character's name is spelled differently.
***
Medawen was still uneasy sometimes, almost a year after the fight that had stopped the Plainmeld. She used to wake up to nightmares of how it could have all ended, even if her daytimes passed with a feeling of safety - something that had taken her a long time to get used to. All the people who had been lost, the grin of Molag Bal in the moments the fight had seemed lost. But she was home now, and the Plainmeld had been stopped.
She had purchased a cabin in Grahtwood, to feel more ”rooted”, as she had told Lyris, before they parted ways. It wasn't an ordinary treehouse like most Wood Elves lived in, it had a few more rooms to keep her little trophies safe, and some luxuries that the villagers couldn't afford. And it most certainly was far from civilization – she didn't want to have anyone calling at her door, asking about her ”heroic journey” to Coldharbour, or bringing food and drink in hopes of conversation. Silence and solitude were better for the time being. She could get to know herself once more, to know the person she had become. She had even started to reconcile for her few violations to the Green Pact; picking flowers for alchemy and such. She wanted to think it was not a grievous sin.
There were never any sounds in or around her house, except the howling of owls and wolves in the night, and the occasional birds and foxes outside. But three nights ago there had been thunder, more violent than any she had ever experienced, and an uneasy feeling lingered after it, and followed her to this night. It was already dark, and she felt too restless to go to sleep. The silence felt deeper than it usually did, and it felt like something important was about to happen. Something dangerous. Like invisible fingers were reaching for her neck, ready to grasp her, invisible nails pressing on her skin and slowly dragging across her back.
And the dreams after the thunder... They were not of Molag Bal. There were those eyes, watching her, eyes that seemed familiar but which she couldn't place. And malicious whispers, calling her name from every direction.
”Medawen... Medawen... I have found you, Medawen.”
She sat down in front of the mirror and opened the two strings that tied her hair to the sides. It was a naive look, but she had maintained it, to 'keep the prey off guard', as she used to say. Before becoming the Hero of the Dominion, she had been a thief, and she was intent to never let her Queen know of her past, if possible. In those times, she had benefited from the innocent demeanor.
There was a knock on her door, and she startled. She immeadiately cursed herself for it.
”Mistress”, came the call behind the door, and one of her two guards emerged. The sturdy Breton was looking worried. ”M'lady. Fenwir hasn't showed up, but my watch was over a while ago. I wasn't sure I was allowed to leave, but...”
He was looking uneasy, hesitant to ask.
”Just go home, Gerard”, she said quickly. ”I'm sure Fenwir has some legitimate reason for being late. If something were to happen, I can handle myself. I'm not a helpless maiden.”
She smirked, and watched a smile light up her guard's face as well. He nodded and turned to leave.
”Till tomorrow, m'lady”, he announced as he walked out.
Honestly, she was a little worried. Fenwir was a Bosmer, and sometimes they didn't cling to schedules like most people, but he had always been just about in time.
It's that damn thunderstorm making me jumpy, she thought, agitated. There's really nothing to worry about.
She settled on a comfortable chair and tried to read the first volume of the 'Lusty Argonian Maid' to calm her mind with something easy-going, but she wasn't able to concentrate. The stillness outside seemed deeper than usual.
She kept on reading persistently. And finally drifted to a light, uneasy sleep.
She startled, waking up in a second. The house was making noises. Like footsteps. The feeling of danger grew exponentially as the sounds approached. She wasn't wearing her armor but a dark green spidersilk bedrobe. She was making a quick consideration to go fetch the armor. Her blades she kept always in her bedroom, right next to her bed, but now she felt naked without her leathers.
But the steps seemed to come ever closer. Now she was certain they were footsteps.
In the current circumstances, her senses told her to be alert.
She started running to the other side of the bedroom, to grab her twin daggers from their dais. Blood rushed to her head, pumping in her ears. She was a quick runner, and reached her daggers fast. She stopped before the dais, reached her right hand to her dagger.
But the motion was interrupted when she felt her head suddenly pulled back.
It took her a second to realize someone had grabbed her hair in a tight grasp. Strong hands held her, and when she reached out to hit the hand of the attacker, she felt her arm get stuck. A tight feeling started pulling at her wrist, like a rope being tied around it. She sensed magicka. Some kind of magical rope?
”Now now”, she heard a somehow familiar male voice taunt behind her. ”You aren't so mighty without your little blades, are you, girl?”
Medawen tried to shake free from the grasp, but the man tightened his grip on her hair. Before she knew what happened, she felt her left wrist being captured by the same magic that had her right.
”Did you miss me?”, the voice asked slowly. ”I think you did. What other reason could you have had to release me from my prison, if not to have me come to you?”
He laughed, a sarcastic, confident laught, and Medawen felt her hands being pulled tight behind her back. Now she recognized the voice. It was unmistakable. She let out a surprised sigh.
”Mannimarco?”, she whispered.
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Mannimarco's Vengeance