Rastislav
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Arc 8 Chapter CXLIV: The Start Of Something Great
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 20:41:21 +0000 UTCAn: And so ends, the beginning!
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(General POV)
He awoke feeling slightly groggy, his inner beast half purring in contentment at the sheer comfort he had pent the night in, tempting him to fall asleep once more. The smell of roasting meat swiftly dissuaded him from that foolish notion, as he sprang up from his bed, lightly tearing the no doubt excessively expensive fabric in the process.
But he did not care in the slightest, stretching himself awake with a content groan and putting on the clothes his new allies provided after some heavy convincing on their end.
A compromise between the garb of his own people, and that of those they now shared their home with. It consisted of a thick elaborate gambeson colored in deep green over a red tunic, and a fashionable pair of dark pantaloons. All of it covered by a polished orichalcum chainshirt and a pair of ceremonial bracers.
Not something to ever be worn into battle, but he could admit the lighter clothing had its charm.
He chuckled to himself, and clasped the panther-skin cloak on around his neck, placing the wide feathered cap atop his head, and sheathed a single scimitar on his hip. And finally, with reverence he held for few things, he hung the amulet of Trinimac on his chest.
"Good enough." He smiled and exited his room within the large manor the Emperor had provided for him and his people within the Imperial City's central district.
Gorgosh greeted him with a grunt as he exited, the heavily armored orc's eyes flickering over his garb with a clear tinge of disapproval. He kept those thoughts to himself and fell in behind his lord.
The others greeted him with a cheer as he entered the building's main area, his Breton allies rising their cups with a much more silent but equally eager enthusiasm.
Far more enthusiasm in the case of some "Finally awake, Grand Duke?" The knight beside the Breton King called "Come, join us for a morning meal, these eggs are heavenly!"
Durrak huffed but still strolled over, sharing a quick greeting with High King Uthred before turning to his much more lively cousin "Always so loud in the morning, Reynauld. You'd think smashing so many heads every day would keep you in your bed for a time at least."
"Ha!" The knight snorted "You are one to speak. I am not the one who got bored of merely challenging the great Knights of Evermor, and went to challenge the Grandmaster of the Knights of the Nine, while they were in prayer."
"What can I say?" Durrak shrugged "You were getting boring."
"Bah I say!" Reynauld decried playfully "Bah!"
After shoveling a downright unreasonable amount of eggs and bacon down his gullet, Durrak looked to the Breton High King and spoke "How far are they now?"
Uthred looked up from his own meal, one that was far lesser in volume and yet still undevoured "They should arrive before noon. We will need to move out within the hour to position ourselves properly."
"Aye" Durrak nodded "Best get there before the crowd does."
The Breton sniffed noncomitally though something told the orc he did it mostly for show.
The alliance between Orsinium and High Rock was an odd one, one utterly unexpected by either Durrak or his own people, and doubly so by the Bretons.
But someway, somehow, their negotiations ended without blades being drawn, and when the Knight-Captain of Evermor travelled the new Orsinium he found that Durrak's claims of just rule were all true, confirmed by the commoners content with their new protectors, even if some still tried to make up issues due to old hatreds.
An expected happening, and one he had thoroughly prepared himself for.
The orc would never admit it aloud, but corralling his own people was thrice the challenge in comparison to keeping good relations with the Bretons, their traditions constantly clashing with the ideals Durrak had learned from the Nords and his friends and companions.
But those same traditions played against the ones who would defy him, for one rule stood absolute over all others.
The strongest ruled.
And Durrak was without the shadow of a doubt, one of the mightiest orcs to have ever lived.
The beatdowns of uppity warriors was an almost daily occurrence in those first few months of their settling, but through much blood and sweat, and antithetically to the orcish spirit, mercy, they were shown to be his lessers in might, and thus their loyalty was assured.
Negotiating with the High King was a breeze in comparison. Neither he nor Durrak wanted to set High Rock alight with another war, and for all the territorial advantage the Breton held, the orcs were far more concentrated and united under their Warlord, so after much negotiation they settled on a compromise.
High King Uthred would nominally hold dominion over all of High Rock, and Grand Duke Durrak of Orsinium and Rivenspire would nominally owe him fealty, with their feudal contract ending up as more of a perpetual alliance and trade agreement than an any true pact of servitude.
The Breton nobles were outraged, the orcs grumbled, and in the end none of them emerged truly satisfied.
A perfect negotiation, Durrak imagined his friend would say.
It would be good, seeing him again.
---
As predicted, the crowds around the Talos Plaza District of the Imperial City were deafening even before the western gates were opened, their great mass just barely held back from the roads and the great stand Emperor Titus Mede II stood upon surrounded by the leaders of each and every province still loyal to the Empire.
High King Torygg of Skyrim stood proudly beside his Jarls, japing and lamenting how the war was too short for them to get a good stab in.
The five Great Lords of Morrowind bickered among each other, even as anticipation danced in their eyes.
Durrak and the Belamanes were too busy keeping their vassals off each others' throats to be truly enthralled by the festive air.
The Counts of Cyrodiil were, by virtue of being used to being the center of attention, slightly less rowdy, but an air of excitement still surrounded some of the Heartlanders.
The Mane of Elsweyr looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, even as his attendants did their best to pamper the maned cat-man, and the less said about King Camoran of Valenwood the better, the Bosmer having a visible slouch in his posture as he just wanted for all of it to be over as quickly as possible.
And above them all stood Titus Mede, armor polished and gleaming in the midday sun, and his usual circlet replaced by the proper ceremonial crown of Tamriel, one everyone now agreed he was more than worthy of bearing.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd, and the western gates of the city were split open.
Then as one, a series of trumpets announced the coming of the conquering heroes, followed soon by the disciplined beat of the drums.
And then they came, in a long line that stretched far beyond sight to even those upon the wall towers, the entire Expeditionary Force joined by all save the most essential of garrison forces, they marched to their triumph with steel in their spines and pride on their faces.
But none of the observes were truly focused on the legions, for they all had eyes only for the pair riding in front of the procession.
Much like when they first arrived, their steeds and armor was resplendent, and their entourage mighty, but the times had changed both of the Godslayers.
Unlike the relaxed slouch and scheming smirk of the sorcerer, and the barely contained arrogance and aggression of the Dragonborn, both of them now radiated absolute authority and might, each step taken by their steeds announcing to the world that it was their to command.
Behind them marched their most powerful and loyal followers, most of them basking in the crowd's exultations while some either awaited the silence of a private room or the feasting that was to come.
But what drew Titus' eyes the most was a small band of finely dressed Altmer riding a carriage just behind the lords and officers, even more so when the procession split apart and that very carriage joined the two royals at the front.
As agreed, the delegation of high elves stepped out of the carriage, and presented themselves before Titus, the heroes of the day staying behind for but a moment.
Titus rose his hand and the crowd quietened down, one overly eager man going on for a bit too long and thus getting smacked by his wife before he finally shut up. Tempted to thank the man but deciding against it, Titus greeted the Altmer leader "Regent Narsis."
Said Kinlord bowed deeply but stiffly "Your Imperial Majesty."
"The war between our peoples may have been a short one." Titus spoke, his voice carrying far "But the conflict ran deeper and for much longer than that." He gave the Altmer a considering look and continued "Your previous leaders have taken much from us, committed great evil without due cause."
An Altmer bristled and a good number of the onlookers grew agitated.
"But" The word cut through the air like a blade "That does not mean your people as a whole deserve to be tormented in turn." He folded his hands behind his back "The honorable Hortator of Morrowind has vouched for your honor himself-"
Reyvin inclined his head slightly from the back.
"-And so you were chosen as the interim ruler of Alinor, and their representative in this meeting." Titus smiled "Swear allegiance to the Empire now, and let that be the end of all this hate and bloodshed, let us live on in peace as we have for centuries before! Ever since Talos the Uniter first dreamt of Tamriel whole!"
The other elves grew increasingly furious at the perceived condescension but none of them spoke out. They had been beaten and there was no negotiation to be had here, all that remained was ceremony and submission.
Narsis visibly steeled himself, and knelt "As the Regent of Alinor. I, Kinlord Narsis of Shimmerene do hereby swear mine and my people's undying allegiance to the Ruby Throne and the one who sits regnant upon it" His voice grew more dead with each word spoken but he still forced himself to continue "May the Divines bless the Tamrielic Empire."
"Then rise, as citizens of the Empire" Titus bid them with an open hand and turned to the crowd "Three cheers or peace, and for unity!"
Many an individual was temporarily deafened by the ensuing cacophony as everyone that could shouted their throats sore in celebration.
A full minute passed before Titus once more rose his hand and quietened the mass of people down, a slight bit of mirth rising up in his chest as he saw the same man get smacked for still yelling his heart out.
Shaking his head, smirk hidden under his mustache, he called "Minthara Septim, and Reyvin Dagoth, step forward!"
The two heroes did as they were bid and the silence around them grew absolute.
"Not that long ago, I welcomed you upon the steps of this city after a deed so grand none could be called foolish for proclaiming you would have never surpassed it." Titus spread his arms "And yet here we all stand, once more shaken by what you have accomplished."
Minthara stood straighter, and Reyvin's smirk grew just slightly wider.
"Never before, in the history of Nirn, has a war of this scale been won so utterly and decisively. Never before has the Empire's might been greater than it is today, and all of it is thanks to the two of you."
Instead of continuing, he stepped forth, and descended from his podium, the echoes of his steps growing more deafening with each moment that passed, until he finally arrived before the pair.
"It is time" He spoke softly, and yet there was no man, beast, or elf who did not hear him "Minthara Septim, kneel."
She blinked in surprise but quickly realized what he was getting at, and after an encouraging nudge from her husband, she quickly kneeled before the Emperor.
Titus reached for his crown, and announced by a thousand sharp intakes of breath, removed it from his head "Minthara Septim. Do you swear before the gods that you shall protect the people of Tamriel, no matter the threat?"
She did not hesitate "I swear."
"Do you swear to abide by the wisdom of the commandments of the Nine Divines?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to be fair in judgement, and just in rule?"
"I swear."
"Then rise" He placed the crown atop her head "Not as my heir, but as Tamriel's Empress!"
As the crowd once more grew completely wild, Titus shared a quiet look with Reyvin, who merely inclined his head, an silent understanding forming between them.
-----
(Reyvin's POV)
I closed the balcony door behind me, cutting off Marco's admittedly impressive lute solo, and Durrak's less than impressive ditty.
The impromptu coronation and what came after it had taken us the better part of a day, as Titus still needed to go through the commendations for the hundreds of notable legionaries and cohorts, and the oaths needed to be sworn to the two of us.
The feasting that came after was far less draining however, and I got to meet all of my subjects/allies and catch up with friends I have not been able to see or hear from in months.
I am not going to lie, when I heard how Durrak managed to negotiate territorial concessions (not in name but in truth) from the Bretons, I snorted my cup of brandy out through my nose, bathing the orc in the drink.
Of course, he merely laughed it all off.
The feast dragged on for hours, and even after that our closer friends from among the guests were dragged up to our apartments, where Minthara proceeded to show off her hoard like the shiny enjoyer she was.
Still, spending so much surrounded by people would drain even people such as we, and last I heard Minthara slinked her way off to the balcony to catch some fresh air.
"Took your time, didn't you?" She turned to me, leaning against the elaborate balustrade.
"Couldn't resist listening to Tolfdir's tales from his youth" I shrugged and smiled "Did you know he was a Jarl once?"
She raised an eyebrow before snorting "He ruled for ten years and got bored, didn't he?"
"I thought the same" I chuckled and shook my head "But no, madman reigned for sixty."
"Damn."
"Exactly" I snapped my fingers and hopped on the fence next to her "Anyway, your vaunted Imperial Majesty, what are you doing out here by your lonesome?"
She pouted at me and narrowed her eyes "You do know you share that same title now, right?"
I covered my heart "Ah, but I am but the consort."
No way am I ever officially taking any true responsibility, even if I was going to do my damndest to make this nation work.
She just rolled her eyes.
"It is going to take a lot of work to fix this damn place." She spoke after a pleasant silence.
"Yup." I smacked my lips "It is going to be a bitch."
"You think we are going to get bored? You did say we were both pretty much immortal" She asks with slight worry in her voice.
Chuckling I gave her a sideways hug "I am already working on a simulacrum ritual."
"Thank the gods" She slumps against me "What would I do without you?"
"I dunno?" I shrug, pretending not to be aware of the prophecies "Shout apart a few mountains?"
"Why did I even ask" She laughs before sighing "The first few years are going to be exhausting."
"Yup."
"I might have to put down a dozen rebellions at least."
"Without the shadow of a doubt."
"The Redguards are going to be soooooo annoying!" She whined.
"Don't forget the Argonians~" I singsonged.
She placed her hands over her face and groaned "You are not helping."
"Look on the bright side" I smiled "At least you get to burn the fuck out of Pyandonea."
She perked up but only slightly before once more slumping down "That is only going to take months tops."
"Don't worry, dear" I chuckled "I will find something for us to do before too long has passed."
"Mhm" She mumbled "How long?"
"Eh" I shrug "A few decades?"
"Good." She nods.
"Good?" I quirk an eyebrow.
"More than enough time for us to make a family" She says without the slightest hint of hesitation, eyes now boring into mine.
Sniffing in faux disdain I 'lamented' "And you call me the insatiable one?"
I laughed as she began sputtering and accusing me of avoiding the topic.
Though to my surprise I found that I did not hate the idea.
Best build a world worth living in for them then.
Comments
Rastislav
Happy you enjoyed it my guy, and yeah I get where you are coming from, the romance was a bit rushed on purpose since that made the most sense but that doesn't mean something can't be built on those foundations. Guess you will have to wait and see once again :P
WannaBeATree
Good thing I stacked all the chapters past MCs arriving in Solstheim untill the end. It means I could read all of them back to back. I am a bit miffed that their marriage probably won't last that long, if it keeps going like that. They don't seem to be good for each other and very very bad at talking things out. I have high praise for the chapter where they flatlined Mora and it was mentioned that Minthara picked Reyvin out of convenience. Also the chapter that mentioned the grooming bit. In terms of litrpg and power fantasy, I am very content though. A few chapters around Solstheim were a bit too 'mundane', but the fact I could read it in one go, made up for a lot. I'd say the story is realy good for what it tries to be and can be both bindge-read and re-read. :) I'd personally wish for more conflicts that can't be solved by harming something/someone, but the story was never about that, which is why I can absolut respect the solution of 'shoving it to future me' or 'changing topic'. Acknowledging the existence of the problem, but refusing to engage with it, since the story is about something else. Clean, simple. :)
Angelwine
Amazing work author, I'll be there for the next adventure :)
