The Embassy II

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    Akitcougar
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    I’d made it through the Embassy itself, killing the Thalmor soldiers and one wizard with well-placed arrows.

    Outside was total chaos, with Frey Shouting everywhere and slicing off heads with that massive greatsword of his. I slunk through, picking off Thalmor he missed.

    Once there were no more Thalmor alive, I said, “This was supposed to be a stealth mission, you know.”

    “Aye, I know.”

    “Oh, okay. Just checking.”

    I picked the lock on the door to the Embassy’s living quarters. “Guard the door. I’ll break in and out in nothing flat. Do not Shout anymore,” I murmured to Frey. He nodded and took up position at the door, although he was clearly upset with the “no Shouting” order.

    I slunk in, arrow notched on my bow. My ears pricked up at the sound of two men talking in low voices. I avoided them, walking up the stairs to poke around the Thalmor’s rooms.

    The first one I came across was clearly Elenwen’s. There’s no other reason for a Stone of Barenziah to be there. I swiped the stone, tossing it into my knapsack.

    After looking around some more, I found nothing on dragons. I slipped downstairs, back to the first floor. The two men were still talking, and a steel arrow sprouted from one.

    In confusion, the other rushed out of the room, giving me a perfect angle to place my arrow. It soared straight into his jugular.

    Tiptoeing quietly, I moved into the basement.


    “… That will be all for now. I must say I continue to be disappointed in your lack of cooperation. I hope next time you will do better,” an elfin voice, high and cold, said.

    “No, please- ARGH,” the prisoner, a Breton by the smell, screamed as lightning shocked him into unconsciousness.

    I notched an arrow on my bow.

    “Khenarthi guide my arrow,” I murmured in prayer as I let the arrow loose at the Thalmor interrogator. I quickly notched another and fired at the guard.

    The Thalmor guard was dead in an instant. The interrogator, not so much.

    The Thalmor twisted the arrow out of his right shoulder. I swore at Khenarthi and shot another arrow, which was consumed by a fireball from the Thalmor. Clearly, the Goddess of Winds was not smiling upon me.

    “Show yourself!” he shouted in my general direction. I remembered this Thalmor’s voice from Elsweyr.

    I snorted, and, in my full Elsweyr accent once again, called back, “The Dar’Jo Rebellion sends its greetings, Rundilil.” I rolled away from where I was as a thunderbolt shot towards it.

    It was better for the Thalmor to blame the remnants of the Dar’Jo rather than the Dragonborn and the Dovahsos.

    I could no longer get a good shot from the balcony, as the Altmer aimed there. I put my bow away and unsheathed my sword. My blue sword, Tafiirzinyah, glowed brightly, ready for battle.

    “Alkosh protect me,” I murmured as I ran into the basement prison, praying that the magicka resistance I’d enchanted onto my chitin armor would hold against this elf.

    I blocked a fireball with Tafiirzinyah and slashed at the elf.

    I cut off one of his arms at the elbow. The elf snarled, and I merely grinned. He shot another bolt of lighting at me, which my sword and armor absorbed.

    “Who are you, cat?” the Altmer growled. He made a wall of fire between the two of us.

    “Lok’nir Sol’Dar, Commander of the Dar’Jo Rebellion,” I said as I walked straight through the fire and jammed my sword through the elf’s gut. Surprised, he looked down at his gut. I twisted my sword and sliced upward, cutting him in two.

    The battle over, I drank a potion to regain my health and sheathed my sword. I grabbed Rundilil’s notes off the table, not caring what they were, and shoved them in my bag. I kicked open the door to the cell with the Breton in it. “Greetings, brother thief,” I called to him, grabbing my lockpicks and opening the shackles.

    “How did you…”

    I smiled warmly as I handed him a strong health potion. For a moment, my voice took on the cadence of Brynjolf’s. “You’ve clearly never done an honest day’s work in your life, if you know who lives in the Ratway.”

    The Breton chuckled slightly, although he seemed a little unnerved after my near-perfect imitation of the Guild’s second. “Can you get me out of here?”

    “I can steal anything, brother thief. How would we get out of here?” I used my normal accent that came from years of living in Cyrodiil and Skyrim among the Imperials and Nords, rather than Brynjolf’s or my Elsweyr accent.

    He rubbed his wrists and pointed to a trapdoor. “I saw them throw some bodies down there a few times. I’m Etienne.”

    “Loki,” I murmured. I took a look at the lock. “Baan Dar help us, this is a strong lock.” I set to work picking it.

    “Don’t bother trying, Khajiit,” Elenwen’s voice appeared. “Or your friend here will die.”

    I whirled around. Two Thalmor guards restrained a red-haired Nord as Elenwen leaned on him. Frey was clearly pissing himself at the proximity to a Thalmor wizard while he was unarmed. A third Thalmor guard held his sword. Two Thalmor battlemages stood behind them, magicka at the ready.

    My tail twitched. I reached for my sword, but Elenwen grabbed Frey’s throat. “Don’t try it, cat. Mithnar, Cyrellion, disarm him.”

    The two Thalmor battlemages kept up strong wards to protect themselves as they removed my bow, arrows, dagger, and sword. I didn’t move, not wanting Skyrim to lose her Dragonborn.

    “Strip him of his armor as well.”

    The mages used telekinesis to undo all the straps on my Siligonder curiass. Soon I stood in front of Thalmor with no more protection than a loincloth.

    I looked up at Frey, my arms crossed over my furry, scar-ridden chest. He winked.

    “FEIM ZII!” he shouted, turning into a phantom.

    I cast two fireballs at the two Thalmor nearest me, knocking them backwards. I called up my strongest ward to hold back Elenwen’s ice spikes. I grabbed my knapsack under the cover of my ward.

    Frey reappeared behind me. “Now what?”

    “Etienne, can you finish unlocking the trap door?”

    “Already done, brother thief,” the Breton called.

    “Frey, get him and yourself out of here. Skyrim cannot lose you. I’ll cover for you,” I ordered him. I tossed him my bag.

    “Get yourself out of here too, Loki.”

    I grinned. “Aye, may Baan Dar save us both. Alkosh protect you,” I called to him.

    “And Talos guide you,” Frey called over his shoulder as he and Etienne disappeared down the trap door. I kicked it shut and dropped my ward, preparing to summon a bow from the planes of Oblivion.

    An ice spike hit me in my right shoulder, knocking me backwards. Almost immediately, I was surrounded by the Thalmor.

    Elenwen stood over me, tall and imposing. “Where did they go?”

    I grinned, knowing it would annoy her. “Only Sheggorath knows,” I said in my full Elsweyr accent, invoking the Skooma Cat.

    She sneered. “Lock him up, but not down here. If I remember correctly, Dar’Jo have a habit of escaping secure prisons.” She nodded to the soldiers, who picked me up by my shoulder and made me kneel. One of the soldiers gave me a punch straight to my unprotected gut.

    “Long live Lok’nir Ri’Dar and Anarkis Jo’Khaj, whose deaths promoted you to Skyrim, you renriji-Altmer bitch,” I snarled at her through the pain, insulting her in both Ta’agra and Tamrielic.

    She raised a cold eyebrow. “I see nothing less that my personal chambers will hold him. Gag him and give him magicka poison. Now, I must return to my party.”


    Five hours. That’s how long I waited in Elenwen’s room.

    By the time Elenwen walked into the room, Jone and Jode had risen in the sky. My tail twitched in nervousness, and I ground my teeth against the gag in my mouth. She locked the door behind her.

    “Lok’nir Sol’Dar. Lok’nir Soul-Thief. What an interesting name, Khajiit,” she said as she removed the gag from my mouth.

    “Can’t say the same for yours,” I growled.

    She smiled coldly, causing my fur to prickle. “Ah, yes, now I remember. I’m the one who sentenced your parents to die when you were a boy.”

    I opened my mouth to speak, but she shushed me. She crouched down next to me and ran her hand through my mane and along the single braid I wore. She held it in her hand and examined the gold ring that held it together.

    “Most Khajiit cut off their braids in deference to the Mane.”

    “I am not most Khajiit; I am Dar’Jo,” I growled at her completely dropping my Elsweyr accent in order to threaten her.

    “So I’ve noticed.” Her hand travelled farther downward, towards my neck and chest. I bared my teeth at her. She only smiled.

    We sat there for a while, with her toying with my fur, exploring my scars. My ice-blue eyes never left her golden ones, and I knew she could see the fury behind mine.

    She stood. “Do not anger me, Khajiit. Cooperate, and your life will be easy. Fight, and you will suffer longer than your parents did.”

    I thought carefully for a moment. “Hin mindok ni wo zu’u,” I murmured in Draconic, speaking more out of surprise than anything else. I was a Dar’Jo Commander and Dovahsos, and yet she told me to cooperate. I chuckled.

    “What was that, cat?”

    I gave her a casual, confident grin I was sure would irk her. “Absolutely nothing,” I replied, hoping she didn’t recognize the language I’d used.

    She didn’t.


    I woke up with a lightning bolt straight to my shoulder.

    Panicking, I Shouted, “YOL!” spewing a fireball at my attacker, forcing myself into a seated position. The roar of the fire hid most of the sound of my Shout.

    The High Elf who stood over me blocked my fire breath with a ward. “Impressive trick, Khajiit, learning to fire Incinerate with your mouth. However, I hope you remember what I told you last night.”

    Elenwen the renriji-Altmer bitch. I growled at her. Inwardly, I was happy that she hadn’t notice the dragon Shout.

    “Cooperate, Khajiit, and no harm will come to you.”

    I had to laugh at that. “What do you call waking me up with a thunderbolt? A friendly warning?”

    She held up her hand, brimming with magicka. A silent gesture to shut up.

    I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Please, as if anything will shut me up.”

    She ignored my comment. “Get up and follow me.”

    I glanced behind me at my hands, which were still bound together. I sighed. I pulled my legs close to me and swung my back forward, rolling my weight off the floor and onto my feet. I stood up.

    Elenwen looked down on me with her cold eyes. I grinned to irk her. She turned and walked out of the room, and I followed, padding as silently as possible.

    She led me into a room with Thalmor guards. “Get him dressed. Watch the magicka.” She left and closed the door behind me.

    I was escorted out of the room a few minutes later in a burlap shirt and dirt brown pants. The two guards next to me kept their hands full of magicka.

    I grunted at the rough treatment they gave me, and then an evil idea came to me. I silently thanked Frey for always trying to stop me when I sang and failing.

    “Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn,” I started singing under my breath. The mer on my right gave me a jab to my ribs. Definitely easier than dealing with Frey.

    “Shut up, cat.”

    I shook my head. “To keep evil forever at bay.”

    Another magicka-filled jab to the ribs.

    “And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph’s shout,” I continued, a little louder than I was.

    Two magicka punches. One to the gut, one to the jaw.

    “Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray.”

    “You aren’t even a bloody Nord!” one of the Altmer guards swore.

    I grinned. “Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago, and the tale, boldly told, of the one!”

    The other guard threw his hands up in frustration.

    “Who was kin to both wyrm, and the races of man, with a power to rival the sun! And the Voice, he did wield, on that glorious field, when great Tamriel shuddered with war!”

    The guards just kept walking me along, trying to block their ears from my horrible singing.

    “Mighty Thu’um, like a blade, cut through enemies all, as the Dragonborn issued his roar!” I was louder now, at bar room level.

    “That will be enough of that,” a high and cold voice told me. Elenwen towered over even her own guards.

    “And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled,” I continued to sing under my breath.

    She slapped me. My cheek started to bleed.

    “Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world.”

    Now, she was clearly irked. She made a fireball in her hand and went straight for my gut. I almost threw up by the force of her anger-fueled fire punch.

    I built my voice up, growing louder. “But a day, shall arise, when the dark dragon’s lies, will be silenced forever and then!”

    Her magicka was arcing all over her body, wild with raw anger at the uncooperative Khajiit.

    At the top of my voice, I finished the song. “Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin’s maw, Dragonborn be the savior of men!”

    Elenwen delivered a painful lightning bolt to my chest. My eyes went black.

    I woke up a few moments later. Elenwen stood over me. I could not hear or smell the guards.

    “What do you think you are doing, Khajiit?”

    I gave her a weak smile. The many attacks I’d suffered during the song began to hurt. “Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn…” I coughed and couldn’t continue.

    Elenwen knelt down to where I lay. “You realize that this doesn’t have to be this way.”

    I attempted to shake my head. “You’re a Thalmor. I’m Dar’Jo. I live to fight you,” I whispered.

    “You sound like Stormcloak once did,” she murmured.

    My eyes snapped up. “Since when have you met him?” My eyes narrowed.

    She arched her eyebrows and said no more on the topic. “As you will not be cooperative, this will be as painful for you as possible. You could have risen far in the Thalmor ranks-”

    “Controlled by you? No thanks,” I growled. “And you only consider Khajiit to be tools.”

    She stared at me, and I held it. Her gold eyes bored into my blue ones.

    “So you will make this as painful as possible for yourself.”

    Geh,” I said, slipping into Draconic on accident. Three languages were hard to keep track of when I was dead exhausted.

    “Very well.” She put me back to sleep with a thunderbolt.

    by Akitcougar


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