Your Truth Cannot Stand
A Skyrim Fanfiction
Chapter 11: I Was Like You, Once
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Descent into Darkness
Chapter 2: Strange, Meet Stranger
Chapter 3: Enchanted
Chapter 4: A Dragon, a Daedra and a Justiciar Walk Into a House…
Chapter 5: Oh No, She’s Relatable
Chapter 6: I Need to Speak to the Thalmor’s Manager
Chapter 7: All I Should Have Been
Chapter 8: Paralysis Analysis
Chapter 9: It’s the End of the World as We Know it
Chapter 10: Gods and Pawns
Chapter 11: I Was Like You, Once (you are here)
Chapter 12: Solace from the Sky
Chapter 13: Awakening
Chapter 14: Second Chances
Chapter 1: Descent into Darkness
Chapter 2: Strange, Meet Stranger
Chapter 3: Enchanted
Chapter 4: A Dragon, a Daedra and a Justiciar Walk Into a House…
Chapter 5: Oh No, She’s Relatable
Chapter 6: I Need to Speak to the Thalmor’s Manager
Chapter 7: All I Should Have Been
Chapter 8: Paralysis Analysis
Chapter 9: It’s the End of the World as We Know it
Chapter 10: Gods and Pawns
Chapter 11: I Was Like You, Once (you are here)
Chapter 12: Solace from the Sky
Chapter 13: Awakening
Chapter 14: Second Chances
Ondolemar had never known how long the trip through the Embassy could feel. The stairs and rooms felt eternal, each painful second stretching into hours as his fading mind alternately fought for consciousness and tried to sink away from it.
The door to the courtyard finally came into view, and as it cracked open, the dying elf squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself.
A gust of icy mountain air rushed over his half-bare body and he shuddered, shrinking into himself as if he could somehow escape the world’s harshness by recoiling from it enough.
His ribs twinged at the movement, pain from the inside and cold from the outside catching him between their blades, and all he could do was freeze in place and try not to shiver.
A sudden rush of falling made his empty stomach flip, and it took him a moment to register the sting of snow against his skin. He tried to shift his head, to get his mouth and nose out of the frigid powder, only to feel a boot against his side, shoving ruthlessly.
His fingers clenched, but he refused to scream. The courtyard guards were no doubt watching him, and he didn’t know who else might be in the audience.
Whoever it was, they needed to see him be strong. They needed to see a Mer who’d dared to question the Thalmor standing his ground until the end.
The boot thrust hard enough to flip him over, digging into his ribs and leaving him lying on top of his smashed, swollen hand. A sharp whimper escaped from a mouth too damaged to hold it back, but he refused to follow it with anything more than ragged gasps and bloody coughs.
“Members of the Thalmor,” Elenwen intoned, her commanding voice as cold as the snow beneath his back. “Today, you will bear witness to the fate that awaits a member of our exalted ranks when he betrays our cause.
“Commander Ondolemar entertained the teachings of the heretical Dragonborn, Kierska, and allowed her to poison his mind and turn him against us. He has embraced the heresy of Talos, and has turned from our mission to take our rightful place as the rulers of Tamriel.
“He has actively undermined our efforts by providing aid and power to the enemy, and has shown that his loyalties no longer lie with the Thalmor.”
They were all staring at him now, their faces twisted by shock, disgust and scorn. Ondolemar met their glares defiantly, but beneath his pride and unbroken will, a quiet voice whispered regret. How many of you will die in ignorance, convinced that the cause you’ve spent your lives serving is just?
We consider ourselves a wise and cultured race, but our leaders are barbarians who are better served by our ignorance. It’s no wonder they made sure I couldn’t speak.
“His actions remind us all of the need to stay firm in our resolve, and to let no trace of heresy remain, even if it’s found in one of our own.”
So you’re still preaching about heresy to them. I’m not the only one you’ve deceived with that claim.
“No matter what rank a person holds, he must be held accountable for his actions. Let the former Commander’s demise be a reminder to stand fast in your duties, and to ignore the pull of heresy that corrupts the minds of lesser beings.”
Lesser… Indignation flared through him, reflexive and nonsensical. Lesser was a word that belonged to other people, not to a superiorly bred Mer like himself.
A superior Mer… who had spent his whole life being deceived by others who also claimed to be superior, and who oppressed other beings whose beliefs were based on proofs he could not refute.
We call ourselves superior, but we’re really no better than they are. In fact… we’re probably worse.
“You are not to speak to him, to offer any aid or comfort, or to hasten his demise. You are only to bear witness to the consequences he has brought upon himself, and to allow this unfortunate turn of events to strengthen your resolve to avoid repeating his mistakes.”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
As a dozen overlapping voices automatically barked the response, Ondolemar closed his eyes. Obedient, unthinking pawns. All saying the things their superiors tell them to say, in mechanical unison.
What I feel for them right now… I wonder if this is how Kierska felt when she tried to reason with them. It’s like meeting a disease-maddened dog… dangerous enough that you might have to destroy it for the sake of the next person it meets, but pitiable enough that one feels compelled to see if there’s another way.
But surely she couldn’t see herself in them the way I do. My execution, and the first interrogation I was ordered to watch… both cruel acts that the watchers could stop, and when we fail to do so, we must justify that choice in our minds, until those justifications become nearly unbreakable.
That’s probably at least half the point of this. To force them to justify this to themselves, to convince themselves that this cruelty is right… to self-indoctrinate… until they’re too committed to their excuses to ever change their minds.
He forced his eyes open, and a dim blue-grey sky stared back at him. It was probably late evening, and now that the initial shock of cold had worn off, he realized it was a surprisingly mild day for the top of a northern mountain. The sun had melted the snow slightly, leaving it heavy and wet, but the deadly cold of night was coming.
So these are my last few hours on Nirn. Before all this, I thought I had made peace with my death, but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel real.
A furry face flashed through his mind, and his heart twisted. Kierska, I’m sorry. This will probably hurt you, and no one else will understand why you would mourn for a Thalmor.
Of course, knowing you, you will do what you want to and feel what you’ll feel, let the rest of the world be damned. Who knew, when we first met and you failed to show me the deference I expected, that I’d come to love that defiance?
His eyes strayed to the elves around him, and in the back of his mind, he idly wondered if any of them would be as bold as her. A kind word, or an arrow through the heart to put him out of his misery… would any of them dare defy Elenwen that much?
Some returned his glance with condemning glares. Others studiously ignored him, keeping their eyes on the gate or sky. A few at least had the empathy to look uncomfortable.
And one archer’s stare was soft with pity and regret. Compared to the horrors of the last two days, it felt like a hug from a friend.
Then the adjacent soldier elbowed her, speaking harshly in hushed tones, and her eyes turned away, taking that small comfort with them.
There’s nothing left for me here. No point craning his neck in search of a mind he could still reach. Instead, he returned his gaze to the sky, watching the distant hawks circle overhead. I wonder if I’ll be buried properly, or left to the appetites of Skyrim’s beasts.
Most likely, all traces of my existence will be struck from the records, so I cannot be remembered.
At least I know one person who I’m sure will not forget. I wonder if she’s still busy hunting Alduin in Sovngarde.
Is it possible to return from a mission like that alive? Or will she be trapped among the Nord dead for the rest of eternity, unable to reach her family in the Sands Behind the Stars?
Sadness twisted through his chest, and liquid fire pressed against the backs of his eyes. I never really thought about how cruel it is, that the races are allowed to mingle on Nirn, only to be separated into different afterlives upon death. Is there truly no bridge between them, no chance of seeing each other again?
A distant rush of wind pulled him from his mournful thoughts, commanding his blurring eyes to focus on the sky. A strangely-shaped hawk rushed overhead, distant and indistinct, and several archers drew their bows before Ondolemar’s fading mind could process the sight.
No… that’s no hawk. Its tail was too long, and though it seemed the same size as the other hawks, it was probably farther away.
A reptilian scream pierced the air, and his heart jolted as adrenaline screamed down his spine. Dragon!
As quickly as it came, his fear subsided into vague, resigned hope. If I’m lucky, it will ignore the others and put me out of my misery.
The massive beast circled back, dangerously low, and Ondolemar could have sworn it looked him dead in the eyes. You know I’m here. You definitely saw me. Now do something about it!
Those monstrous wings snapped down, and with a snakelike dip of its body, the dragon flung itself eastward. Ondolemar followed it with his eyes, waiting for it to circle back, and his heart sank as it shrank into the distance and disappeared.
You can destroy whole cities, but not one dying elf? I hope Kierska eats your soul and turns you into armor.
The moment of annoyance passed, and his dull, weary stare returned to the slowly dimming firmament. Oh, well. An hour or two from now, I’ll be in Aetherius, no matter what that dragon does.
The door to the courtyard finally came into view, and as it cracked open, the dying elf squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself.
A gust of icy mountain air rushed over his half-bare body and he shuddered, shrinking into himself as if he could somehow escape the world’s harshness by recoiling from it enough.
His ribs twinged at the movement, pain from the inside and cold from the outside catching him between their blades, and all he could do was freeze in place and try not to shiver.
A sudden rush of falling made his empty stomach flip, and it took him a moment to register the sting of snow against his skin. He tried to shift his head, to get his mouth and nose out of the frigid powder, only to feel a boot against his side, shoving ruthlessly.
His fingers clenched, but he refused to scream. The courtyard guards were no doubt watching him, and he didn’t know who else might be in the audience.
Whoever it was, they needed to see him be strong. They needed to see a Mer who’d dared to question the Thalmor standing his ground until the end.
The boot thrust hard enough to flip him over, digging into his ribs and leaving him lying on top of his smashed, swollen hand. A sharp whimper escaped from a mouth too damaged to hold it back, but he refused to follow it with anything more than ragged gasps and bloody coughs.
“Members of the Thalmor,” Elenwen intoned, her commanding voice as cold as the snow beneath his back. “Today, you will bear witness to the fate that awaits a member of our exalted ranks when he betrays our cause.
“Commander Ondolemar entertained the teachings of the heretical Dragonborn, Kierska, and allowed her to poison his mind and turn him against us. He has embraced the heresy of Talos, and has turned from our mission to take our rightful place as the rulers of Tamriel.
“He has actively undermined our efforts by providing aid and power to the enemy, and has shown that his loyalties no longer lie with the Thalmor.”
They were all staring at him now, their faces twisted by shock, disgust and scorn. Ondolemar met their glares defiantly, but beneath his pride and unbroken will, a quiet voice whispered regret. How many of you will die in ignorance, convinced that the cause you’ve spent your lives serving is just?
We consider ourselves a wise and cultured race, but our leaders are barbarians who are better served by our ignorance. It’s no wonder they made sure I couldn’t speak.
“His actions remind us all of the need to stay firm in our resolve, and to let no trace of heresy remain, even if it’s found in one of our own.”
So you’re still preaching about heresy to them. I’m not the only one you’ve deceived with that claim.
“No matter what rank a person holds, he must be held accountable for his actions. Let the former Commander’s demise be a reminder to stand fast in your duties, and to ignore the pull of heresy that corrupts the minds of lesser beings.”
Lesser… Indignation flared through him, reflexive and nonsensical. Lesser was a word that belonged to other people, not to a superiorly bred Mer like himself.
A superior Mer… who had spent his whole life being deceived by others who also claimed to be superior, and who oppressed other beings whose beliefs were based on proofs he could not refute.
We call ourselves superior, but we’re really no better than they are. In fact… we’re probably worse.
“You are not to speak to him, to offer any aid or comfort, or to hasten his demise. You are only to bear witness to the consequences he has brought upon himself, and to allow this unfortunate turn of events to strengthen your resolve to avoid repeating his mistakes.”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
As a dozen overlapping voices automatically barked the response, Ondolemar closed his eyes. Obedient, unthinking pawns. All saying the things their superiors tell them to say, in mechanical unison.
What I feel for them right now… I wonder if this is how Kierska felt when she tried to reason with them. It’s like meeting a disease-maddened dog… dangerous enough that you might have to destroy it for the sake of the next person it meets, but pitiable enough that one feels compelled to see if there’s another way.
But surely she couldn’t see herself in them the way I do. My execution, and the first interrogation I was ordered to watch… both cruel acts that the watchers could stop, and when we fail to do so, we must justify that choice in our minds, until those justifications become nearly unbreakable.
That’s probably at least half the point of this. To force them to justify this to themselves, to convince themselves that this cruelty is right… to self-indoctrinate… until they’re too committed to their excuses to ever change their minds.
He forced his eyes open, and a dim blue-grey sky stared back at him. It was probably late evening, and now that the initial shock of cold had worn off, he realized it was a surprisingly mild day for the top of a northern mountain. The sun had melted the snow slightly, leaving it heavy and wet, but the deadly cold of night was coming.
So these are my last few hours on Nirn. Before all this, I thought I had made peace with my death, but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel real.
A furry face flashed through his mind, and his heart twisted. Kierska, I’m sorry. This will probably hurt you, and no one else will understand why you would mourn for a Thalmor.
Of course, knowing you, you will do what you want to and feel what you’ll feel, let the rest of the world be damned. Who knew, when we first met and you failed to show me the deference I expected, that I’d come to love that defiance?
His eyes strayed to the elves around him, and in the back of his mind, he idly wondered if any of them would be as bold as her. A kind word, or an arrow through the heart to put him out of his misery… would any of them dare defy Elenwen that much?
Some returned his glance with condemning glares. Others studiously ignored him, keeping their eyes on the gate or sky. A few at least had the empathy to look uncomfortable.
And one archer’s stare was soft with pity and regret. Compared to the horrors of the last two days, it felt like a hug from a friend.
Then the adjacent soldier elbowed her, speaking harshly in hushed tones, and her eyes turned away, taking that small comfort with them.
There’s nothing left for me here. No point craning his neck in search of a mind he could still reach. Instead, he returned his gaze to the sky, watching the distant hawks circle overhead. I wonder if I’ll be buried properly, or left to the appetites of Skyrim’s beasts.
Most likely, all traces of my existence will be struck from the records, so I cannot be remembered.
At least I know one person who I’m sure will not forget. I wonder if she’s still busy hunting Alduin in Sovngarde.
Is it possible to return from a mission like that alive? Or will she be trapped among the Nord dead for the rest of eternity, unable to reach her family in the Sands Behind the Stars?
Sadness twisted through his chest, and liquid fire pressed against the backs of his eyes. I never really thought about how cruel it is, that the races are allowed to mingle on Nirn, only to be separated into different afterlives upon death. Is there truly no bridge between them, no chance of seeing each other again?
A distant rush of wind pulled him from his mournful thoughts, commanding his blurring eyes to focus on the sky. A strangely-shaped hawk rushed overhead, distant and indistinct, and several archers drew their bows before Ondolemar’s fading mind could process the sight.
No… that’s no hawk. Its tail was too long, and though it seemed the same size as the other hawks, it was probably farther away.
A reptilian scream pierced the air, and his heart jolted as adrenaline screamed down his spine. Dragon!
As quickly as it came, his fear subsided into vague, resigned hope. If I’m lucky, it will ignore the others and put me out of my misery.
The massive beast circled back, dangerously low, and Ondolemar could have sworn it looked him dead in the eyes. You know I’m here. You definitely saw me. Now do something about it!
Those monstrous wings snapped down, and with a snakelike dip of its body, the dragon flung itself eastward. Ondolemar followed it with his eyes, waiting for it to circle back, and his heart sank as it shrank into the distance and disappeared.
You can destroy whole cities, but not one dying elf? I hope Kierska eats your soul and turns you into armor.
The moment of annoyance passed, and his dull, weary stare returned to the slowly dimming firmament. Oh, well. An hour or two from now, I’ll be in Aetherius, no matter what that dragon does.
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