Work Text:
Senseless chattering. That’s all the party this party was. Keep relations with Skyrim. Promote peace. A sigh left Elenwen’s lips as she turned away from the current discussion amongst the Jarls.
A cold breeze brushed through her robes as the front door opened. Despite the fur lining, she shivered. It was always damned cold. Why was the Embassy located atop a mountain? She peered over at the late arrivals. Razelan. Typical behavior from the merchant. And a new face.
Her eyes wandered to the tall dark haired Nord. She smiled. The Dragonborn. How could Elenwen not recognize the Dragonborn? Just how stupid was the Dragonborn? This party was about to get interesting.
The Ambassador took a few steps over to greet the new arrivals. Razelan flashed a quick smile to Elenwen before turning to the Nord, who shrugged off her fur coat and handed it to him. Elenwen stopped in her tracks. She eyed the pewter dress the Dragonborn wore. The low cut in the back revealed all the scars on the Dragonborn’s back. Thalmor scars. Haphazardly placed scars. She’d have to check records later and punish whoever did them.
The Dragonborn turned around. The see-through cape floated around her as she turned. The front of the dress didn’t cut nearly as low as the back, but it left little for everyone’s imagination. The gold and jade jewelry sparkled in the candlelight as she moved. The Dragonborn smiled briefly at Malborn, Brelas, and Jarl Balgruuf before finally facing Elenwen. Her smile dropped for a split second before returning. The gold necklace around the Dragonborn’s neck did little to hide the typical Talos pendant scar.
Elenwen continued her walk over to the late pair. “It is good to see you Razelan. You are earlier than usual. I am also quite surprised you arrived sober this time.”
The Redguard cleared his throat. “After the last time….” He trailed off.
“I do hope we will continue our mutual agreements.” Elenwen smiled and then turned to the Dragonborn. The green and gold eyeshadow suited her complexion. “And you. I do not recognize you. What is your name?”
The Dragonborn smiled. Her dark blue eyes glistened in the candlelight. “Freja Fairsword.” The Dragonborn held her hand out to Elenwen, wanting to shake her hand.
Elenwen grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. She watched the Dragonborn’s face flush faintly. She kept her composure well. “What a pleasant surprise to have a new face around here. Well, feel free to enjoy the food and drink. The party lasts well until midnight.”
The Dragonborn clasped her hands together after Elenwen let go. “Thank you, Ambassador Elenwen. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. I’ve only dreamt of attending. In fact, I begged my brother, Fjol, to let me go in his stead. As you can see…. Trust me, I am the prettier of us siblings, despite my scars.” She covered her mouth as she laughed.
Elenwen smiled briefly. “Well, you can extend the invitation to him as well the next time we hold a party. I will not keep you long, you must go meet the others. I have other business to attend to.” Her eyes wandered to the Bosmer bartender who had been waving her down the entire conversation. She walked over and narrowed her eyes at Malborn.
“We’ve run out of Alto…. Can I switch—“
Elenwen clicked her tongue. “You do not need to ask me such a stupid question. Make sure our guests are properly satiated. Whatever they want.”
“Of course, Madame Ambassador.” Malborn ducked to the back of the bar.
Elenwen turned and watched as the Dragonborn talked with Jarl Balgruuf. Who else did she know? Elenwen wandered around the party and kept an eye on the Dragonborn as she mingled.
A few hours into the party, Elenwen watched as the Dragonborn leaned against a wall with a half empty champagne flute and a frown on her face. She couldn’t have an upset guest. She walked over. “Is something wrong, Miss Fairsword?”
The Dragonborn turned her head and looked up at Elenwen. The corners of her lips turned slightly. “I don’t normally drink wine or champagne. It’s going straight to my head, I fear….” She laughed.
“Do you need to sit somewhere private?” Elenwen watched her eyes widen for a second. Was she here for information? “I can find you a room.”
The Dragonborn shook her head. A curl fell free from her updo. “I’ll be okay. I’ll try not to get too tipsy. Or drunk. I would like to return another time.” She reached to fix her hair.
“If you are sure. What about a refill on your drink?”
“Please. Can I try something else?” The Dragonborn leaned close to Elenwen. “Do you have anything you don’t normally share with the guests?” Her hair fell out again.
Elenwen couldn’t help but laugh a little. She fixed the piece of hair. “You know, I might. Follow me.” Elenwen pulled a key from her coat and unlocked a side door. She ushered the Dragonborn through the door and closed the door, locking it behind them. She continued through the corridors and through a small eating area with plush chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll find something for us.”
The Dragonborn sat down on the loveseat. She removed the uncomfortable shoes and leaned back on the arm of the chair. She looked around the room, looking at exits and a set of stairs. Her attention went back to Elenwen when the Altmer walked back over. She smiled and sat back. “I apologize. The shoes are new.”
Elenwen smiled. She set the glasses down and poured the red wine into the glasses. She handed one to the Dragonborn. Now that she had the woman alone. She watched the Dragonborn smell the wine and then take a hefty sip. Elenwen sat down, taking a drink of her own glass. “Are you enjoying the party?” She hummed. “Dragonborn?” Elenwen’s lips curled.
The Dragonborn coughed. She beat on her chest. She looked at Elenwen and sighed heavily. She took another sip up of the wine. “I am.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Information on the dragons.” The Dragonborn took another sip.
Elenwen narrowed her eyes. “Dragons? Ah. Yes. I remember at Helgen. You were there.”
“You remember?” The Dragonborn hummed and rested her head against the back of the chair. “I was only one of a handful of Thalmor prisoners.” She laughed.
“Fura Stormblade.”
Fura smiled. “That’s me.” She unraveled her hair from the pins and updo. The dark curl bounced around her shoulders. “How likely are you to let me go? It seems you don’t know anything about the dragons either.”
Elenwen bit her tongue. She had too much wine herself. “I should lock you away.” She took a sip of her wine and reached out to touch the scar on Fura’s chest. “If only for the Talos worship.”
Fura raised her eyebrows. “I almost wore my pendant.”
“That certainly would’ve made a statement. Your scars were enough.” Another sip. “The ones on your back.” Fura finished her glass and reached for the bottle. Elenwen grabbed her hand. “You are our valued guest.” Elenwen poured another glass for them both, emptying the bottle. “That’s the last of my stash.”
Fura held the glass to her lips. “You know, maybe in another time I would enjoy wine properly with you. I might even flirt.”
“Flirt, eh? What would you say to me? Hypothetically speaking of course.”
“Oh, you know I am notoriously bad at flirting as well.” Fura laughed. “I find you attractive. And it’s dangerous, but there’s a thrill to it…. Is there not? I think we could have some fun.” Fura looked around. “There seems to be plenty of places to hide about.”
Elenwen hummed. “Perhaps.”
Fura set the glass on the table. “I do have a small house in Solitude. Should you ever want to visit. Search my home for illegal paraphernalia. But, only you. Because it won’t exist for anyone else.” Fura brought her feet onto the loveseat, close to her chest.
“Willingly inviting a Thalmor into your home?”
The Dragonborn smiled. She closed her eyes. She sighed slightly. “If I am free to go. I would like to go home.”
Elenwen stared at Fura. She looked down at her nearly full glass. “I suppose Freja Fairsword can go home. Can you even make it?”
Fura stood up and nodded. She stretched her back while putting on her shoes. “Aye. Just gotta make it to the front door and to the carriage.” She smoothed her dress. She wobbled a little. “Perhaps I should wait a few more….” She sat back down on the couch.
“Good. Because both our glasses are still quite full. It would be a waste of my wine.” Elenwen handed her the glass again. “I’ll find a place for you to stay if you can’t make it out.” Elenwen’s lips curled into a smirk. “It’ll be a gamble where you end up.”
“I think I am willing to take that risk.” Fura took a small sip. “Who would you prefer in your bed? Frea Fairwind or the Dragonborn?”
“The Dragonborn.”