When Coldharbour Calls Chapter Five: Can You See It Coming Now?

A/N: No new warnings, but I wanted to apologize for disappearing, and leaving you all with a political post while I was at it. I really shouldn’t get worked up like that. What’s done is done.
I haven’t worked too much on writing since my last post, but today I got a really nice comment on AO3 for Breaking Down (the official title of the first part of WCC, with one more chapter to go) and I got a spark of creative energy. That spark was spent finishing this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter Five:
Can You See It Coming Now?

It was just before sunrise, judging by the arc of lightening sky spreading out above the stone-dotted island to the east. The same island where the Veil obscured all, Kaylaneth realized dimly as she sat up, shooing away the mudcrabs that had congregated on and around her bare feet. A massive plateau jutted out far above her head, and the distant sounds of a city waking up drifted down to her. Skywatch, thank the gods. Though she was weaponless, dripping wet with saltwater and something had happened to her boots, safety was nearly close enough to touch.

A Timely Political Post (or, Fun with Flags)

I’m going to come right out and say that I am liberal.

I realize this is not a popular position on the Internet right now, what with the vocal counter-culture being conservative (take that word as you will). Liberalism hasn’t been a popular thing to claim for a long time, since it became a slur and was replaced by the weasel-word ‘progressive’. Imagine, having your very identity turned into something to be hated.*

I said I was liberal because I’m about to reveal a decidedly nonuniform opinion for my political leaning. Wouldn’t want people who didn’t read far enough to think I was a conservative, now would I?

My unpopular stance is this:

THE FLAG SHOULD FLY.

In Memoriam

Ellie, one of my two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, died on Thursday. She had heart problems, we knew this, but we were monitoring it. However, a few days ago she started breathing funny, coughing, and wouldn’t eat. We brought her in to the vet and were told some mechanism in her heart had malfunctioned, snapping like an overstressed bungee cord. There’s no test for it, and no way to treat it. The doctor couldn’t give us an estimate of how long she would live, but we never could have imagined that she would pass mere hours later of a heart attack.

My dear Ellie was ten and a half years old. She was a vivacious, mischievous girl who loved nothing better than the wind in her ears. She was a tease; she was a free spirit; she had no sense of modesty. Everything she did was done with a wag of the tail, a sway of the hips or a dramatic sigh.

Just got the call.

One of my two dogs, Ellie, passed away today.

Will update when I can breathe again.

Together

A/N: The last chapter of Breaking Down is currently at 3k+ words and not even close to climax, but I am working on it. In the meantime, a short Hadvar/Fasendil piece.

It was a beautiful fall afternoon in the Rift and Fasendil’s wanderlust was getting worse. The itch for adventure had driven him into the logical arms of the Legion, but of late he had been stuck in one tiny camp in the Rift, awaiting General Tullius’ command to march on the capital. He was well aware that the battles in the Pale and Winterhold he was hearing of, weeks after the fact, took priority at the moment.

Of course the Dragonborn had disappeared again, just after attaining Praefect. It was ridiculous.

Guardian

A/N: My new OTP, from a kmeme prompt about Legate headaches no less.

Guardian

Night fell over the Rift as it always did: gently as the breeze in the orange leaves above. The night would be clear, perhaps giving a glimpse of the aurora. It was never as brilliant as further north — even Riverwood got better shows in the shadow of the Throat of the World — but the added light would be a boon when only a sliver of one moon was visible. Occasionally a wolf’s howl echoed through the valley, soon to be answered by its fellows, and the haunted sounds made the soldiers on watch shift nervously as Hadvar wound his way around the camp towards the Legate’s tent.

When Coldharbour Calls Chapter Four: On The Edge Of Sleep

Warning: The violence goes up a notch at the end of this chapter. In addition, there is a brief and vague bathroom reference, fantastic racism (but you knew that; it’s not TES without some racial tension at least & ESO brought it to eleven), mentions of cannibalism, & Kaylaneth with a death wish. Honestly, I’m wondering where I pulled all her angst from.
This thing is over twice as long as the last one. Now I am the chapter title.

Chapter Four:
On The Edge Of Sleep

“So, my dear,” said the Prophet, seeming to look directly at her (he did this a lot, making her paranoid that he could see after all), “Madame Valinya discovered more information about my condition.” He said it calmly, but Kaylaneth was under no illusions that the news was good. Though, the Imperial seemed to have recovered more of his faculties in the day since Kaylaneth had seen him last. She hadn’t been sitting with him for very long, however, so she wasn’t sure she had gotten the whole picture. Sitting up in bed with an inn’s worth of pillows propped behind his back, wrinkled but clean hands cupped around a mug of tea, he certainly looked stronger than before.

When Coldharbour Calls Chapter Three: Eyes Shut Tight

Trying to make chapters longer, though I don’t want to pad overmuch and thus this one isn’t as long as I would like.

Chapter Three:
Eyes Shut Tight

The healing passed slowly, unbearably so. Kaylaneth had always had a fear of being restrained, even if it wasn’t with chains but with healer’s orders. Even if it was for her own good.

Razum-dar stayed by her side for a few days, providing the merciful distraction she needed to avoid going insane from staring at the same room, being fussed over by the same two healers (whose names she never did learn) and eating the same vegetable-rich food (just because it wasn’t from Valenwood and thus didn’t violate the Pact didn’t mean she had the stomach for it) day after sunless day.

When Coldharbour Calls Chapter Two: My Old Familiar Friend

Things smooth out in terms of the quest-skipping with this chapter, since this marks the end, at least for now, of canon quests. Celebrate~

Chapter Two:
My Old Familiar Friend

At least, in the end, she got to breathe the fire that killed the traitorous Watch Captain.

Ayrenn probably thought she was doing the Bosmer a favor by naming her an Eye of the Queen, but internally, Kaylaneth was screaming. How was she supposed to go home now? She needed time to process the complicated turns her life had taken in recent weeks, time she wouldn’t get to have if she was running about playing spy with Razum-dar.

Speaking of, he had disappeared again. At least Astanya had been right, in a way: the Khajiit had shown up to spring her loose from jail, acted like he had everything under control, and… poof.

Hopefully it would take a while for the Queen and her entourage to get to… Tans-something. The ruin where she was supposed to go next for some silly ceremony. Goodness, even the marriage of the Silvenar and the Green Lady wasn’t as complicated as Altmer crownings.

When Coldharbour Calls Chapter One: Even On My Own

If you can guess the source of the chapter titles (without checking AO3!), you win the internets~

Chapter One:
Even On My Own

She did, in fact, land in the ocean. The suave Khajiit who was obviously hiding something told her as much: that he had spotted her floating in the open sea and hauled her aboard just before a hurricane hit. He did not pry as to who she was, though he obviously knew she was no Aldmeri Dominion soldier. Instead he guilted her into helping him investigate the (admittedly mysterious) events on the island where he’d dragged her to.

Unlike Razum-dar, as he called himself, most of the people on Khenarthi’s Roost assumed she was a soldier and treated her as such without her even needing to lie, which helped, for the most part. She got a better shield out of stopping a second hurricane from wiping out the survivors of the first, but she was stuck with the shoddy Coldharbour mace for the time being, it appeared. Unless someone gave her one in exchange for the help everyone seemed to need, but if there was such a person she must have missed them. Perhaps Mistral, the port city where she was to meet up with her savior, would have a market where she could sell the more useless rewards she had accumulated.