Chapter 33: The Embassy
I’m expecting the Justicars assigned to guard the gates of the Embassy to make me and Svanna wait as they go check with Elenwen. And maybe they would have, all things considered. Maybe the next thing out of one of their mouths would have been something like “Wait here, I need to check this out” like every stereotypical scene with a guard ever.
That didn’t happen, mostly because half a moment after I delivered my spiffy one liner to the two nameless Thalmor, a by-now-familiar roar sounded out in the sky high above, wiping the smile from my face. Guess I should have expected it. We were due for one, after all.
“What the-! What was that?!”
The Thalmor Justicars look up, eyes widening as they whip their heads back and forth in confusion. Their weapons are raised, and they’re now very on guard as I helpfully explain things for him.
“That, gentlemen, was a dragon. You should probably just stay back and let me and my companion handle this. She’s the-!”
“The Dragonborn summoned the dragon! Die!”
I was about to finish explaining that Svanna was the only one who could kill dragons permanently, when one of the two Thalmor decided to be… fatally stupid. I can only stare at him blankly, as he charges forward with his fellow hot on his heels a second later. The first must have seniority over the second, because neither hesitates to try to strike us down.
Try, being the operable word here, as Svanna disappears from view before they can even reach her, and the Justicar who slices at me finds his sword skidding right off my armor with nothing to show for it. Before I can say or do anything, two arrows sprout out of their eyes like flowers, coming from nowhere and moving so fast it’s hard to track them.
As the Justicars fall to the ground dead, the Dragon roars again, this time much closer than before. As it’s making its way down onto the Thalmor Embassy, I hear much shallower cries and look up to see a full complement of Thalmor Justicars and Mages charging out of the Embassy towards me. To be fair, two of their own ARE dead at my feet. But also… dragon, anyone? I suppose I seem like the easier target…
Only half of the Thalmor actually reach me, because the Dragon comes in for a landing and cuts off the other half a moment later, breathing flames all over them. This one is a Fire Dragon, how nice. Some of the Thalmor survive the breath weapon attack, I’m pretty sure. I can hear their shouting as they try to get some sort of order going, even while the screams of their flaming kindred spark through the air.
The half of the Thalmor who make it past the Dragon’s landing glance back… and keep going towards me. I’d say they were fleeing the Dragon, but they aren’t actually trying to run away, they’re still engaging in combat… just with what they consider the lesser threat. They’re very, very wrong of course, and I draw one of my blades as they approach, swinging it almost casually and blocking one blow before relieving that Justicar of his arm.
With my other hand, I raise a Ward so that the Thalmor Mages who also managed to make it past the Dragon get to watch their spells splash harmlessly against the shield. Not that their magic would have harmed me anyways, but it’s important they know just how outclassed they really are. Because honestly… fuck em.
That small smidgen of me that was still worried about what came next? Consider it extinguished. Svanna had done most of the hard work in helping me get my head on straight, I wouldn’t deny her that. Time had also done a good job of melding my two halves together, I liked to think. The longer I existed as Vayral in Skyrim, the harder it became to think of myself as a human half and a Thalmor half. I was just… Vayral.
But this right here? This display of utter stupidity and idiocy? The complete lack of coordination against a massive threat, and the morons who were trying to kill me and Svanna when we’d really done nothing but defend ourselves? The Aldmeri Dominion itself might be worth something, it was where one set of my memories had grown up after all… but the Thalmor in Skyrim? They were imbecilic and moronic, the lot of them.
I single-handedly slaughter every Thalmor who even gets close to me, making my way forward at a slow pace towards the Embassy’s gates. Svanna and I hadn’t even gotten within a hundred feet of the place, before this had all turned into such a shit-fest. I don’t receive any more help from the Dragonborn, but that’s alright, I know Svanna is doing her own thing.
That’s confirmed when I step inside of the Embassy Courtyard proper and find a second massacre that trumps my own outside. The Thalmor have not stopped streaming out of the Barracks since the Dragon Attack started, after all. Most of them have in turn, died to the Fire Dragon currently assaulting their Embassy.
But not all of them. Looking around, I see several have gone down to arrows through their eyes or throats. Svanna is helping the Dragon slaughter the Thalmor, I recognize with a certain mix of amusement and bemusement. As it kills its way through the Altmer soldiers and mages trying to strike it down, I close the distance.
And then, because I told myself I would, I follow Svanna’s lead and leave the Dragon alone for the moment. Killing these pathetic, sorry sacks of excrement who dare to call themselves Thalmor is more entertaining anyways, and it’s not like we need them to put down the Dragon. Some try to fight back, some don’t even see me coming, but all fall to my blade.
Until finally, there are no visible enemies left for either me or the Dragon… save for each other. I turn to face the great drake, just as its head whips around towards me with a savage snarl. Before either of us can engage, a barrage of arrows strike it in the eyes, Svanna’s favorite place to hit. From what I can tell, my Stealth Archer Dragonborn cutie manages to get three arrows in each of the Fire Dragon’s eyes in a handful of seconds. She never ceases to amaze me.
As the Dragon slumps to the ground, dead, I watch Svanna appear at its side and observe as she absorbs her third Dragon Soul. She shivers in excitement, and I chuckle as she looks to me and licks her lips. My own savage beastie, unleashed and unchained.
Surrounded by bodies, both Thalmor and the Dragon’s skeleton, we pause for a second, just… basking in the moment, as far as I can tell. Then, Svanna turns and begins making her way towards the Embassy’s main building and I follow.
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Not all of the Thalmor had left the building to fight the Dragon, it turned out. Most of them had, but a contingent had remained behind, a small group that tries to ambush us the moment we step inside.
“Lay down your weapons! Who are you?! Surrender immediately!”
I raise my brow at the self-important Thalmor barking orders. This one is… Rulindil, if I recall correctly. The Thalmor Inquisitor assigned to the Embassy. He’s responsible for all the torture down in the Embassy’s dungeons. He’s currently backed up by a squad of about five Thalmor. Four Justicars, and one other mage besides himself.
“We didn’t surrender to the Dragon. I’m not sure why you think we’d surrender to you. Oh, the Dragon is dead, by the way.”
Rulindil’s eyes widen for a moment, his nostrils flaring at the news… but of course, Thalmor Supremacy keeps him from being reasonable.
“You will submit to questioning, both about your presence at our Embassy and the nature of this Dragon Attack and how you survived it.”
I glance over to Svanna, who just smiles at me, amused. Hm, she’s letting me take the lead for now. Alright then.
“No, we won’t.”
Rulindil growls, actually GROWLS at that, and opens his mouth to respond. I don’t hear what he says, because I’ve already cast a Fireball right into their midst. The speed at which I cast it, and at which it hits, completely takes them by surprise. A second Fireball does what the first cannot and kills them off, and I hum as they burn away to so much ash, dead in seconds.
Was that violent? Perhaps, but they were threatening me and my darling Dragonborn with a not-so-good time. As far as I was concerned… they got what they deserved.
Svanna certainly doesn’t mind, and further leads the way as we make our way deeper into the Embassy. I’m a little relieved. Part of me was afraid that Svanna’s presence would jump the narrative forward to the quest Diplomatic Immunity. That just her being here, would mean there was a party going on. Given that said party had Thanes and Jarls alike at it, I figured it would be such a pain to have to deal with all of them.
But there’s no one as we make our way through the foyer. No one… but a certain Bosmer, cowering behind a counter like she thinks we won’t notice her. Svanna definitely does, and as her head whips around towards the source of a whimper, I can see my predatory Dragonborn getting excited. I don’t think to warn her until it’s too late and she grabs the Bosmer, provoking a scream from Brelas as the servant is pulled bodily from behind the bar.
Upon seeing Brelas’ common clothes, Svanna’s smile drops, and her excitement is replaced by confusion and irritation.
“Ah, sorry sweetheart. That’s not Elenwen.”
“… Who is it then?”
“B-Brelas! My name is B-Brelas! I just work here! I s-serve the drinks! There was a p-party coming up t-that the First Emissary was going to b-be hosting, you s-see!”
The more Brelas speaks and makes it clear she’s utterly terrified, the more Svanna frowns. I’m half-expecting her to shank the frantic Bosmer, or maybe even just let her go and tell her to get out of here. But no… my lithe Nord Dragonborn has developed a waste-not-want-not policy since starting to travel with me. After a moment, she comes to a decision and frog marches Brelas over to me, the Bosmer squeaking and squirming all the way.
“Pacify her.”
Chuckling, knowing exactly what Svanna wants, I lift a hand and gently caress the terrified servant’s face. Almost immediately she calms down and gets a glazed, Charmed look in her eye.
“Brelas, it’s fine. Just calm down. We’re friends.”
“Oh… right… you’re friends.”
Go and re-organize your drink stock or something. We may or may not come and play with you before we leave or call you up to play with us and the First Emissary at some point. Either way, my love wants you close on hand, do you understand?”
“Yes… friend…”
Nodding to Svanna, we let her go. Rather than make a run for the door as she would have mere moments before, Brelas heads back behind the bar, and gets to work. Svanna looks pleased with my choice, and together we make our way upstairs, to where the First Emissary’s Quarters await us. I stop Svanna before she can try to open the door, noticing the arcane trap placed on it. But that’s easily enough disarmed, and then we’re stepping into Elenwen’s quarters.
… I feel a moment of sympathy for the Inquisitor and his men that I char boiled down below, because the first thing that happens is Svanna and I get a Fireball to the face. It doesn’t actually damage either of us, nor do the subsequent attacks that the First Emissary throws at us. We walk forward, through flame and ice and lightning alike, neither of us any worse for wear.
Coming out the other side, I lay eyes on Elenwen once more. She’s certainly pretty, just like all others I’ve encountered. With full, pillowy lips, but a stern brow to her, she looks… she looks very authoritarian. Though at the moment, she also looks somewhat panicked, her eyes widening in shock when she sees us shrugging off her attacks like they’re nothing.
I stride forward as she backs up, my hand reaching out for her, only for Elenwen to cry out.
“Summerset! Oblivion! Auri-El!”
What is she… spouting? I blink, as I find myself slowing down before I can reach her, coming to a halt just inches from closing my hand around her throat. For some reason, I cannot grab her. For some reason, I cannot fathom touching her.
Something akin to relief appears in the First Emissary’s eyes, and she straightens up, her head held high.
“To my side, Agent Vayral.”
I don’t respond, but I do find my body stepping to her left and turning so that I’m standing beside her. Svanna stares at us both, her eyes narrowed as she grits her teeth.
“What did you just do to him?”
Rather than answer, Elenwen lets a small smile play at her plush lips.
“You must be the Dragonborn. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but we both know that would be a lie.”
Elenwen… she’d done something to me. She’d… she’d CHARMED me, somehow. Not a spell, not magic, because I could have blocked that. No, she’d used… she’d used a code phrase. Like I remembered from my human memories back on Earth. I was BRAINWASHED.
“Let him go, or I will kill you.”
The First Emissary doesn’t so much as scoff or laugh at Svanna’s threat. Nor does she hesitate to answer it with one of her own.
“Agent Vayral, if she kills me, kill yourself.”
Once again, I don’t respond. Svanna’s eyes flicker over to me, but I can’t speak. My tongue feels leaden in my mouth, my body feels like… it’s like I’m having an out of body experience. I cannot do anything but obey Elenwen’s orders. I am her slave… I have ALWAYS been her slave. A slave of the Aldmeri Dominion, a tool to be thrown into the meat grinder, to be used up until I either die or there is no use left for me, and then discarded.
If Elenwen is bothered by my lack of response, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she has eyes only for Svanna.
“I can see how close the two of you are. You’d have to be, to be able to subvert one of my Agents so… thoroughly. Tell me, Dragonborn… did you call that Dragon down upon the Embassy with your powers? I suppose everyone else is dead by now, aren’t they?”
“Yes, and you will follow if you do not give Vayral back.”
Svanna takes a step forward, and Elenwen suddenly has a dagger at my throat, stopping the Dragonborn in her tracks. After a moment, the red-haired Nord vanishes, disappearing from view. Elenwen’s eyes widen at that, and she snarls as she immediately backs up against the nearest wall, dragging me along with her.
“Show yourself Dragonborn, or I will kill him right now! Agent, where is she? Speak, damn you! Your loyalty is to the Dominion! Your loyalty is to ME!”
That’s when I realize… I don’t want to. It’s a little silly, for it to be as simple as that. But that’s the truth. This right here is the great confrontation that my life was leading up to. For Vayral the Thalmor Agent, Elenwen was the supreme power in the province. Not only did she hold the position of First Emissary, but she had the code phrase. She had the words, spoken in the right order, necessary to command my loyalty.
Except… that code was meant for another Mer. That conditioning, that brainwashing… it all happened to someone else. I was not Vayral the Thalmor Agent, not any longer. I hadn’t been since my other memories had been unceremoniously shoved into my head. There was even a question of whether I’d truly existed in this universe as Vayral at all before waking up in that wagon. Whatever or whoever put me in this universe may have just produced me wholesale and put memories of my existence in the relative minds to make me fit in the narrative properly.
All of this boiled down to one simple fact. Elenwen believed she could control Agent Vayral. I was not Agent Vayral. I was only myself… and that was all I needed to be.
Before Svanna can make her move, or Elenwen can try to follow through on her threat to kill me, I reach up and grab her wrist. The action stuns the Ambassador of course, even as I twist out of her hold with ease and turn around to face her, pushing her up against the wall she already had her back to. When I DO finally speak, my voice is gravelly and dark.
“My loyalty… you do not deserve my loyalty.”
Elenwen’s eyes are wide with fright now. Svanna comes out of stealth right next to us but doesn’t interfere as I grip tightly at Elenwen’s wrists until ultimately, she drops the knife from her hand with a gasp of pain. I’m grinning at her, but it’s less a grin and more a savage bearing of teeth.
“My loyalty belongs to only one other besides myself. And YOU are not her.”
“T-That’s not… that’s not possible! You shouldn’t be able to… to talk back! You’re a tool! A weapon!”
I just chuckle at that and lean in nice and close.
“Consider then, this simple truth First Emissary. This weapon… has changed hands.”
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