Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 12 (Patreon)

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The return to Dragonsreach was done without particular fanfare. The high of their Jarling returning had now settled onto a certain familiarity. There was due respect of course, the salutes and the parting of ways to let him and his party pass but nevertheless, life was due to return to normalcy. Well, what normal that could be captured. By now, news of the Concordat had been spread by returning soldiers. If there was any discontent, it was kept remarkably reserved. The people merely went along their way, as if the Concordat wasn't particularly world changing. 

"Take the prisoner to the cells," Balgruuf ordered his riders. "If she so much tries to use a spell, stuff her full of arrows." 

"Yes, my lord," his riders nodded, taking the Altmer away. She looked remarkably unconcerned about the whole affair. It seemed she was going to make do with her promise of behaving, wanting to live for as long as she could. Irileth could sympathize with that desire. Who wanted to die anyway? As she was dragged away, Balgruuf turned to Irileth, his face grave. 

"I have been thinking," Balgruuf muttered. 

"I am surprised you can," Irileth deadpanned, crossing her arms. 

Her lord and master rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I have been thinking about threats, and how easy it is for people like that Altmer to set up shop. We need better security, clearly. We shall start with Dragonsreach. Hence, Irileth, I am taking you with me to explore the castle." He declared with utter surety. 

Irileth's stomach growled in protest. Her head still pounded from her hangover. Today was supposed to be an easy day. "...Can we eat breakfast first? I'm starving, my lord." 

The Jarling clicked his tongue. "Breakfast, then. Afterwards we are going exploring." 

And thus, they marched off to raid the kitchens. The staff there were more than happy to feed them. Compared to the food at Cyrodiil, the fare was simple. It was however hearty and to the hungover Dark Elf, a hearty meal was what her stomach and mind needed. She ate her fill, ignoring the judging looks the kitchen staff sent her way as she devoured bread, eggs, and sausages at a fine pace. As far as she was concerned, she was paying respect to the Nordic way of dining, that is eating like a unrestrained beast. 

She was hungry and her head pounded. She had an excuse. 

Sufficiently satisfied, she pushed her plate away and turned to Balgruuf. "Ready," she declared, her mood slightly lifted now. 

"You know, you didn't have to chew your food so violently. No one's taking your bread away, Irileth. Don't worry," Balgruuf said, eyeing her empty plate. 

"You never know that. A hidden thief might steal your food as a emergency snack," Irileth said seriously. 

"You're paranoid," Balgruuf said, amusement flickering in his eyes. The Dunmer however shrugged her shoulders. 

"It was a Khaljit," she motioned and Balgruuf immediately understood her words. 

"Well let's make sure this castle is secure enough that a Khaljit would struggle trying to enter," the Jarling declared as he stood up. Irileth followed immediately, wondering where his desire to see the basement came from but she served him long enough to know not to question it when he had his fits of fancy. It was a pttern she had gotten used to in her service and the less she tried to question the erratic but harmless choices he made, the better it was for her sanity. 

It wasn't as if they were going anywhere particularly dangerous anyway. What were they going to find in the basement other than dust, cobwebs, and nothing?

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"Aha, found it!" Balgruuf cackled with glee. They had been wandering the underdark of Dragonsreach for a while, cutting through dust, cobwebs, and nothing just as Irileth expected. She held a torch to offer them light, the underdark not particularly well-lit. Balgruuf passed through the halls and paths easily. It made sense to Irileth since he did grow up in the castle. His eyes though, it spoke of him searching for something. 

And found it they did. 

They rounded into a corner and found what looked to be a simple oak door. It's hinges had long since rusted away and the wood looked ready to rot. The only interesting tidbit about it was the single paper nailed against it. The paper was damp and musky, a sign of its age. Balgruuf knelt to inspect it, reading the script. "Do not enter. There is only death and darkness inside. Leave, turn back, and forget this place." he read aloud. 

It was also then Irileth heard a voice whisper in her head. "He is only using you, child. Trust not this Nord." 

Irileth quickly turned around in a flash, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the area. Her action did not go unnoticed as Balgruuf looked over his shoulder, a questioning look on his face. "Are you alright?" 

"A voice spoke in my head," Irileth reported, still looking around. She lifted a finger and cast Detect Life. If someone was down here with them, she would see whichever fool thought it was wise to lurk in the dark. She found nothing however. It was only her and Balgruuf. 

"There is no life here. Only death, darkness, and me," the voice whispered tenderly, as gentle as a mother would in comforting their offspring. 

"What is this voice? Who is this voice?" Balgruuf asked, all humor in his face gone. He was treating this seriously and with dignity, not calling her a madwoman for hearing voices in her head. Irileth replied quickly. 

"It is a woman's voice. I do not know her," Irileth responded, her fingers still wrapped around the hilt of her sabre. Then, Irileth felt something enter her mind. It was a foreign, violent invasion of her inner thoughts. As if something was poking at her mind yet she could not perceive it being done. Mephala was here...or at least a portion of her.

"But you do, Morag Tong. You, your people, you know me. One in three, the one who taught you how to murder and murder, righteously," the voice ended with a sweet hiss. Immediately, Irileth understood. An image of webs flashed in her mind, spiders chittering and chattering in the shadows. The smile of loved ones in the light, the glint of a steel dagger in the dark. Betrayal, murder, sex. 

"Mephala...Lady of Whispers," Irileth whispered, her eyes widening in recognition. At that, Balgruuf's gaze hardened. 

"Talos above," he swore. Then, his eyes widened as Mephala too began to speak to him, her voice a sultry and low gasp that tugged at his heart and his loins. Her voice was seduction incarnate, temptation made heard. 

"Talos will not save you. Talos will not rescue you. You and your precious Empire, it has abandoned him. And he in turn has abandoned them...and you," Mephala cackled. "Dutiful mortal, I know of your designs. I can help you. Undo the seals of this door and take up my blade. And you will be powerful." 

Balgruuf was only human. His body burned with desire the more Mephala spoke to him. However, he was also stubborn. And spiteful. "I have seen how you treat your followers. I am not interested," he spat, glancing around the dark. 

Mephala however laughed, making herself heard both now to Irileth and Balgruuf. "My wayward child has so little faith in me! I am the Lady of Whispers, I do not march into castles to break them down. I tug, and pull, and whisper. It was thanks to my plots that she was rescued by you." 

Irileth narrowed her eyes. "You did not save me. Balgruuf did. Your plots did not stop the whip from tearing my flesh. Your schemes did not stop the violation done to me." she hissed. "I obeyed your tenets. I fulfilled my oaths. I do those no more." 

"Oh, my sweet child. Do you truly think so?" Mephala asked, amused. "Every plot you make, it has my blessing. Every murder you plan, my guidance. The knowledge you use to kill, to scheme, it all came from me. You may stop worshipping me, you may curse my name. But no matter what you do, I shall always be there with you." 

Irileth had enough. She turned to Balgruuf, her eyes flashing with anger. "Let us get out of here, my lord. I have heard enough." 

"Not before we rid of whatever's inside," Balgruuf muttered as he turned around and took out his sword. "I should have brought an axe for this," he muttered again as he raised his sword to hack and slash at the door.

Irileth however walked up, holding her hand out against his chest. "Or I can lockpick it," she deadpanned. Balgruuf pursed his lips before stepping aside. The Dunmer did so, examining the keyhole. Producing a lockpick, she quietly went to work in getting the door open. To her dismay, her lockpick broke. 

"Again," Balgruuf said gently and with that, Irileth attempted once more to open it with a fresh lockpick. And again, it snapped. From the shadows, Mephala tittered. 

Irileth's blood threatened to boil over.

"The doors are sealed by a strong ward, child. You cannot open this without the original key. A key that is in possession of the Jarl," Mephala revealed. "Even then, what do you and your Nord plan to do once this door is opened? Burn whatever is inside? His ancestor tried with that quaint forge. It did not work. Use it instead. Take it in my name, sow murder. Plot the downfall of your enemies. In this, we can be allies." 

"If what Mephala says is true then we need your father in this, my lord." Irileth said, dusting herself off as she stood up. Balgruuf instead turned to the door, his face visibly pondering on something. After a moment's thought, he frowned. 

"I need to think on what to do about this damn thing. Now that I know a bloody daedric artifact is under here, I cannot just let it stay there and influence people." Balgruuf said. "Considering we are dealing with Lady Mephala here, the Daedric Prince of Murder and Betrayal, this is a danger to myself and to my family. Praise the Divines that the wards are still holding up at least. I do not recall hearing voices even when I was younger."

"Holding...for now," Mephala tittered sweetly before finally, she and Balgruuf felt her presence vanish. The Jarling growled in dismay. 

"Fucking Daedra," he swore. "Now we have to figure out what in Oblivion should we do about this. Come, we need to think."

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