A Wedding in Bruma I: Unfamiliar Ground
Dec. 2nd, 2019 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conjuredskiesThe last important guests arrive the day before the wedding, after a couple of back-and-forth trips to make sure everyone is properly dressed in their unfamiliar outfits. Between Jim and Felix they're PINpointed into the quiet guest room Jim will be using overnight, so the last bits of advice can be given and Stratos can apply any necessary illusions. For most, Jim can lead them up and take a last minute look over their attire, but there are a few of his crew that simply can’t go out as they are that he’ll leave in Stratos’ care.
The Imperial mage scrutinizes the more alien party members briefly before he gets to work; a very slight mask for Spock, bringing his coloration and sharp features closer to a golden-eyed Altmer; a similar tweak for Jaylah, so she simply looks like a pale human with striking facepaint. He hands them a mirror to inspect themselves with while he concentrates on Norn. These illusions aren't about scale or spectacle- they simply need durability, and attention to detail. When Stratos steps back and moves his hands, there’s a short flicker of pale green light: the Andorian's antennae vanish, his skin turns a little paler, his eyes darker and sharp as his new ears. Felix applauds from the wall he's leaning against, much to his brother's eye-rolling.
"You make a handsome Dunmer, Norn," the younger mage tells him cheerfully.
"He does, but perhaps you should think more of showing your guests about rather than teasing them," his brother scolds. "I suspect they're curious to see exactly where we are." Jim would be- Stratos certainly would, in their place.
"Oh, I'm quite sure I can do both."
“It smells of trees, like where my old home was stranded.” The pale woman had been frowning into the mirror, trying to be sure this reflection was indeed herself but she looks up at the noisy one’s applause before handing off the mirror to the Andorian she’d come in with. They are strangers, but Jaylah has met hundreds of new faces since her acceptance into the Academy. If these are friends of James-Tee and Montgomery Scotty then they are her friends as well. It’s still somewhat comforting to have the Enterprise’s first officer at her side even if he doesn’t look quite like the man she knows he is. This doing is strange, but the effect is one she’s well accustomed to. Jaylah knows her way around stealth technology.
Norn hasn’t piped up, though his fingers grip tightly to the mirror in his hands. He felt fine when they were PINpointed in but something about all the light andmagic hand gestures has left him with a budding ache in the base of his antennae. Which he can’t even see anymore. The weight is still there though, so he tries desperately not to think about it. He’d rather risk a glance toward the door--no windows in the lower levels of the house after all. Nothing to see underground like they are. He quirks the beginnings of a smile when he spies Felix lounging there.
“...As if I’d miss this.” Especially considering they hadn’t done anything other than sign paperwork back in Norn’s world. No one would have even known if Felix hadn’t told him about it eventually.
“The captain--Jim. Has done quite a bit of debriefing us about this world and its native inhabitants. Felix here has dutifully been assisting with adjustments to our translators as needed. So long as we mind his alternate’s whereabouts and don’t let the man be drug off mistaking him for the groom all should go well.” The Vulcan offers Stratos what he hopes is a reassuring nod. “That being said we are gratified you are extending such efforts to allow us to be present for the proceedings.”
“And I am pleased to assist.” Stratos inclines his head in return, then pauses. “Ah. That is a risk. If Jim hasn’t told you, it’s tradition for each of the betrothed’s friends to ‘abduct’ the other for the evening before the ceremony – to keep them out of trouble. Several of Felix’s friends have volunteered to play the part; and it will be your responsibility to do the same for my brother.”
“Although really, what trouble am I likely to get into the half-day before my wedding?” Felix adds, grinning at Norn. Stratos gives him a look of exasperated disbelief - are you serious? - before turning back to the guests.
“Regardless, those illusions should hold without any trouble. I can check them again in the morning to make certain, but you will be quite safe to explore.”
“There will be no trouble.” Jaylah responds with a confidence well beyond her station. She’s seen enough of the crew she hopes to someday be a part of to know that much. That they can handle one wiry man with a lying smile. “He will not escape our watch. And if he tries the doctor will have him.” It’s so frank and candid that Norn has to hold a hand over his mouth lest he actually barks out a laugh. Even Spock swallows pointedly before trusting himself to speak.
“I don’t surmise that will be necessary, Cadet. Nevertheless.” Spock meets Felix’s gaze then. “Quite.” If Vulcans were capable of such things Felix might dare to guess Jim’s first officer seems almost amused by this prospect.
Stratos has to hold in a surprised laugh to see genuine trepidation on his little brother’s face at that. “Well then, it seems my brother will be in good hands.”
Felix pulls a face. This is the problem, dealing with people who have at least much of a knack for mischief as he does. “I’m, ah- going to see if Jim needs help with the…briefing… thing.”
Stratos shakes his head as he flees, but then beckons the others to follow. Now is the time to introduce them to all the people they’ll need to know before they head out into the town. To Cousin Marcella, hard at work overseeing her mother and Uncle Terentius with the other volunteers in the kitchen; to his lieutenant, Sir Celann, already well-versed in Nexus matters from his time guarding the door to Skyrim. To his and Felix’s father, Jim’s soon-to-be father-in-law.
After that, where they go is up to them, though per tradition Felix and Jim split everyone into two groups to show them around separately. Bruma’s no Yorktown- frankly it’s as far away from that technological paradise as one can get - but there are sights to see, from the hunters and craftspeople of many species walking its cobbled streets, to the Legion soldiers on patrol with sword and shield, to the great Castle where the Count and his family reside.
From the top of the city wall they can see just how high they are in the Jerralls, despite the peaks rising far above their backs; the weather is fine enough to see all of Cyrodiil stretching away ahead of them, miles and miles of rolling trees falling down to the distant shimmer of water. With a telescope, they can try to pick out the shape of a spire so tall it’s visible half a country away. The market is in swing near the Great Chapel, so Felix suggests they pass by in case anyone is interested in the mix of hand-carved bone and wood knickknacks, imported Dwemer relics, and good leather and fur apparel that’s usually on sale.
All too soon, though, the daylight begins to fail; shutters are drawn over windows, guard details start lighting public lamps. Jim’s crash course in Tamrielic food at a small bakery is interrupted by a gaggle of Nord and Imperial youngsters who take his arms and promise his friends to keep him safe for the evening - a promise that would be hard to buy, with those grins on their faces, if Stratos wasn’t standing at their head. As their captain’s escorted off, so it’s left to the crew to rendezvous and return the favor…
It’s a long, if pleasant evening. Stratos makes sure they take Jim to one of the nicer taverns- Felix will take the crew and ‘Tiberius’ to the Jerrall View Inn, to make sure they see the best the town can offer. But Jim deserves a good time too, especially with Felix’s friends teasing him. The captain’s more than able to give as good as he gets for a long while, but he doesn’t argue either when Stratos took them home and lets the unsteady captain retire for a few hours. Eventually, though, Stratos has to go and wake him. There’s something they need to do.
After a night of--well. Not heavy drinking, but enough that Jim’s quietly hungover when Stratos wakes him from the nap he’d been having, it still won’t take much to coax his soon to be brother-in-law into getting bundled up. He does ask Stratos where they’re doing though. Jolts awake more than a little when he hears what the elder Caelus has in mind.
“If we’re going, I need a minute.” He’s fumbling among his things for his PINpoint clumsily in the dark of the guest room. “I’ll be right back. I just need to get something--”
Jim’s only gone for a few moments but it’s enough for Stratos to wonder if it was wise letting the starship captain alone. When he returns via PINpoint he’s carrying a case in his hands.
“What is--”
“Shhh, you’ll wake half the household.” Jim tilts his head towards the door and they make their way outside. The chill that hangs in the air is enough to wake him entirely, which is good because Stratos hasn’t stopped hovering. “You said you wanted to go star-gazing. I’ve been meaning to do this for a long time now. No time like the present.”
Nothing about the case in his hands belongs on Nirn. Jim can’t honestly blame Stratos for being antsy over it. But no one else is about yet so Jim clicks open the case and starts setting up the small telescope he’d taught Stratos how to use back in the summer. He’s pleased by the recognition that flits across the Tribune’s face. Moreso by the glint of curiosity in the man’s eyes. Once it’s set up, Jim steps back and gestures for Stratos to go ahead.
“Go on, take a look.” After a moment, Jim rubs at the back of his neck. “Though I’m assuming this wasn’t the only reason you called me out here.”
Stratos has been looking up at the skies almost as long as he can remember, and watching the stars nearly as long as that. He's looked at the moons through telescopes, of course he has- yet he's never, ever seen them like this. The otherworldly technology of George Kirk's heirloom telescope gathers and refines the moonlight in ways few Tamrielic astronomers would even think to do; brings to focus every scar and blemish on Masser's half-shadowed face. Stratos has to pull back and look up at the great moon hanging over the mountain slopes to reassure himself of where it is; back to the telescope, and there it lies again, clear as if he held it in his hand. Even the stars shining through its hidden half are clear and brilliant, and Stratos thanks Kynareth tonight isn't overcast.
"…Hm?" He glimpses Jim's grin in the moonlight when he looks around. Stratos tries to remember what was just said. "Ah, no. I really do want to read the omens before you're wedded, but… that wasn't the only reason." He straightens up, the better to look Jim properly in the face. "It's sort of… customary, the night before a man is married, for his father to give him a few words of, er, advice. That is- his father, or perhaps his brother, if… circumstances demand."
“And what do the Omens say?” Jim folds his arms over his chest half in a bid to keep warm and half to put even the facsimile of a barrier between himself and the idea of George Kirk not being here for this. What sort of advice would the old man have? Jim won’t ever know. But he glances at the telescope set up to survey Nirn’s skies and thinks fondly back to the ship. His ship. His mission and duty. After all this time being told he’d never measure up Jim thinks that maybe his father would be proud of him after all. He’s certainly followed in George’s example. “You don’t have to. Believe me, no one can fill George Kirk’s shoes. I’ve tried.”
"You are family now, Jim," Stratos reminds him quietly. "We wouldn't have you do this alone. Which isn't to say- I'm sure Doctor McCoy would have done this, if I had mentioned it to him. But I… wanted to do it." Wanted to make sure he did the right thing by the man who's become less a brother-in-law than an adopted brother, over the last few years. He's travelled with Jim Kirk, fought alongside him, broken bread and watched out for each other when they teetered on the brink of despair. Through all the magical mishaps of the Nexus - turning them both into women, reducing them to children- luring Felix into madness and necromancy - he's come to know James T. Kirk not just as someone he can trust but as someone he's glad to trust in. A man brave and principled as he can be brash and stubborn, as intelligent as he is foolhardy. A man who needs support more than he admits and deserves it more than he'll believe.
Jim honest to god grimaces when Stratos mentions Bones being the one to have this kind of talk with him. Never mind that the man went through one of the worst divorces Jim’s ever heard of but their relationship is nothing like that kind of paternal doting, no matter how much older the CMO is than Jim. But he knows what it must look like to people and Bones is a sort of family to Jim. He gets it. But still.
“N..no, I’m glad you did. This is better.”
Despite the realization he’s made some sort of a mistake there, Stratos feels gratified that Jim would rather it be him. Maybe not by a large margin, given the captain’s expression, but Stratos wanted to take this place. He smiles slightly in the red-tinted moonlight, glancing up at the stars to give them both a little room to breathe. He’s never had the chance for this conversation with his own father; he doesn’t know what Nereus would say, or what Jim needs most to hear. He and Felix know each other intimately; have done so for years. Their feelings for each other can be in no doubt.
“How do you feel?” he asks gently. “I know all of this is… very different to the way you preferred in your world.”
“Terrified.” Jim’s answer is immediate, but his laugh is cheerful despite being full of nerves. “I’m about to put on the biggest lie I’ve ever had to sell in front of half your home town tomorrow, and now we’ve brought the crew into it--some of whom aren’t even human. There’s so many ways this could go wrong.” He feels alive with nervous energy that has no place to go. Marrying Felix isn’t such a big deal all on it’s own. Hell, Jim would argue they’ve already been married for a year at this point.
It’s the ceremony and the Actual Real Gods they’re looking for blessing from. It’s the sheer number of people about to be present and all the questions neither Jim nor his crew can answer truthfully. It’s the risk they’re running relying on their translators staying undiscovered and species Nirn has never known before staying hidden away. The fact that Jim’s only ‘family’ invited to this event isn’t even his brother but an alternate reality version of himself. Lay it all out and this plan is terrifying in its scope and audacity.
But it’s the only one they’ve got. After all the work Jim and Felix’s family have done to make this happen there’s no way the captain would think of turning away now.
“I’m scared to death I’m going to screw this up somehow.”
Stratos shoots him a smile. The intimacies of marriage are, sadly, a subject he yet knows little about. But illusions and deceptions are another matter. He reaches out to squeeze Jim’s shoulder.
“The most effective illusions,” he says, “have two ingredients. One, they tell a story that no-one will think to question. Even knowing Felix’s talent for conjuration, people won’t dream that a Dunmer might not be a Dunmer, or that an entire cast of friends and family might be feigning their identities. And two, good illusions build from a seed of truth. You and Felix are wholly in love with each other; the guests you’ve brought have come because they love you and wish to celebrate with you. All of that makes the most potent truth I can think of. A tiny gloss of deception over a few details… well, the oldest family of mages in Bruma can surely manage that.”
Stratos’ brother-to-be leans into the touch. Nods along with what the mage is saying. Stratos is a hell of an illusionist. Jim’s seen evidence of that first hand. Not only that, the man is cautious to a fault. If he’s confident they’re doing this well enough then Jim has to admit that at least some of his fears are pure anxiety. It doesn’t magically make that fear go away, sadly, but it does help curb him from ramping up any more. This time tomorrow he’ll be officially married. All the effort everyone has made across both worlds will finally bear fruit.
“I’m not getting back to sleep, so we may as well get some more use out of Dad’s telescope. Come on, show me what these omens you were checking are about.”
The crew were good to their word in keeping Felix busy. Honestly, if he’d mustered every last shred of remaining childishness in him, the conjurer couldn’t have resented their watchful company. Not just because they were trying to safeguard the very thing he wants to go off without the faintest tremor of a hitch tomorrow. Not just because they’re Jim’s friends – and Jim’s alternate, doing their best to look out for the captain he loves. But because they’ve become his friends too, after months living among them, sharing in their world. Slowly, in some cases, but not for any lack of kindness or hospitality on their part. It’s hard not to become fond of these brave, intelligent people, and if there’s still so much he doesn’t understand about their world, Felix is happy to have shown them something of his this time.
They’re diligent about steering him home when it gets late, marching him through the cobbled streets beneath the rising moons. It’s a pleasant walk, despite the cold nipping at their skin, and Felix is joking with Norn when he realises they’re coming up under the shadow of the Great Chapel. The stonework is pale in the moonlight, the many-colored windows glowing softly from within. Felix stops, staring up at it, and shakes his head when Bones tries to nudge him into moving.
“Easy does it, kid. We’re not too far from your home now.”
“No- no, I need to… go in, for a few. You can go on.” They share looks, but they don’t stop him when he heads inside. His feet are mostly steady; the drinks he was allowed are wearing off by now. Only a couple of small fires burn inside, but that’s all right: he doesn’t mind the cold the way he used to.
This was the Great Chapel of Talos, once, marking Bruma as the centre of the god’s worship in Cyrodiil. That ended before he was born, when the Thalmor came. They never managed to take the city in war, but they’d taken what they wanted from it in peace. Now the altar to Talos is replaced by one consecrated to the Eight; the stained glass above depicts his last descendant instead of Tiber Septim himself. Felix has never known it any other way, but Bruma’s history is his history. Ties of blood and loyalty and duty he’s always worn lightly until now. Now he’s asking Jim to be bound by them, too. Oh, he knows the captain will say yes, gladly, a thousand times, even if he doesn’t understand what it means, but…
Does even Felix understand that, really?
The last time he was here… he hadn’t told anyone. He’d been trembling even to cross the threshold, with his hair bleached white by unholy magic, the residue of it still festering under his skin. He’d sunk to his knees and whispered pleas to Arkay, to Mara, Stendarr, begged them to forgive the stench oiling from him…
Felix lets out a long, shuddering exhale and opens his eyes. The light of the lamps and candles is soft around him, casting steady shadows around the arches and pews. He was forgiven, he’s sure of that. The touch of Mara’s amulet in his pocket is warm, not burning. And yet… coming before the Divines and asking their blessing like any good, faithful man- is that really for him? Stepping into a life of responsibility and devotion, of a lover he can’t keep secrets from, a household he can’t run away from- is Felix Caelus really capable of that? After…
“There you are.”
He jumps at his father’s voice, kindly though it is. Felix lurches around, yanking his hand down from his hair. For a second he gapes stupidly, before he remembers, and swallows. “Oh, ah. Sorry, father. I should have known you’d be looking for me.”
“You weren’t so hard to locate. I found Jim’s friends- Norn and Spock, I think? – waiting on the steps for you.” Nereus smiles at his son as he joins him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and standing close enough that Felix can feel his warm aura. Nereus is a head taller than his younger son and broader in the shoulders, taking after their Colovian ancestry in stature where Felix only has the complexion. It’s only ever exacerbated his larger-than-life impression in Felix’s eyes. “Even if I must say it was a little surprising to find you in here.”
“Yes… well…” He bites his lip. There’s so much his father does not – should not know. And they’ve never had that many serious conversations at all, with Nereus’s duties making him an infrequent visitor in his sons’ lives. “I’ve never really been a pious… sort of fellow, father. Or very faithful.”
“Certainly not overly reverent, either,” Nereus says dryly. “I’ve noticed, don’t worry. Some people would have had me take your books away the moment you started asking to conjure a familiar of your own. Were I so worried about you being perfectly prim and pious, I would have taken their advice.”
Felix smiles a little at that, though the unease coiled in his stomach hasn’t gone. “I’m thankful you didn’t. It’s just… tomorrow, standing in front of the priests, taking sacred vows… asking the Divines themselves to hold our marriage safe…”
“Do you wonder if you’re ready?” Nereus asks gently when he hesitates, “or if you’re worthy?”
“Both,” he admits, stung by the accidental accuracy – it must be accident. “What if I’m not fit for this? If I’m not the kind of man who can hold a sacred compact? I’ve neglected the Divines all these years, and now here I am asking something precious of them. It seems… a bit much.” Nereus nods thoughtfully. Felix fidgets a little, unsure what his father will say.
“You’ve always been the boy to see what he can get away with,” the elder Caelus says. “I remember that. Always pushing the rules and sneaking into places you weren’t meant to go. My study, hm? Cloud Ruler Temple? Stratos was afraid to even tell me about that. You might be afraid of the consequences, but it never stopped you getting into the mischief. But you did it, I think, because you trusted in us to protect you. Trusted that we would heal your scrapes and dry your tears, and forgive you without much effort because we love you.
“Has it been any different with the Divines? I’m sure you’ve been up to all kinds of things they don’t approve of down the years – and probably asked little forgiveness either. But did you actually forsake them? Truly forget their teachings? Deliberately disrespect them?” Nereus gives him a sidelong look, eyebrows raised. “Or did you push your luck just far enough to make sure they wouldn’t get really angry with you?”
“I…” Felix opens his mouth. “Well-“ His father is smiling again. He swallows and admits, “The last one. At least. I hope. But…”
“That sounds more like the little boy who cried if anyone was upset with him, yes.” Nereus wraps an arm over his shoulders and gives him a shake, chuckling. “So perhaps you should trust in the gods’ love the way you trust in ours, hm? You may be the troublesome little brother, but you are family, and they will hold you close.”
There’s so much warmth and conviction in his father’s voice. It’s like being a child again, reassured on a level too deep for questioning. Felix leans into his father’s embrace and returns it, wordlessly grateful for the knot in his gut melting away. Tomorrow, he’ll be nervous. But tomorrow, he’ll have Jim.
“That’s really… I didn’t realize you’d understand so well,” he admits, when he pulls back.
“Well.” Nereus quirks a smile. “I was the youngest brother once, you know.”
“I mean- yes, of course. I suppose I’ve just never thought of you that way.” Only as a distant, fearsome man of terrifying authority and intimidating benevolence. It’s strange to look at him as simply a man, now. Albeit a battlemage who could surely level half the town if he were to lose his senses.
“No, I expect not.” Nereus sighs a little sadly, then shakes his son’s shoulders. “We never see our fathers as children, do we? Now, shall we get back to a warm fire before Marcella comes after us?”
“That sounds wonderful- unless you have any more advice for me about, um. Being a married man.”
The elder Caelus pauses and turns back to him, studying his wayward son with a mix of hope… and wistfulness. Regret.
“You and Jim… are blessed already to have found each other, and kept each other. And you’re fortunate beyond measure that you have the chance to stay side by side. Never let go of that. Don’t let the two of you be parted. Don’t… don’t miss a moment of the time you have together.”
Don’t do as we did, Felix hears. He bites his lip and nods, fervently. “I won’t. We won’t.”
“Good.” Nereus reaches out a hand to draw his tired son home. He gives Felix a hug as they start towards the doors, and murmurs, “That’s all your mother and I could ask for.”
The Imperial mage scrutinizes the more alien party members briefly before he gets to work; a very slight mask for Spock, bringing his coloration and sharp features closer to a golden-eyed Altmer; a similar tweak for Jaylah, so she simply looks like a pale human with striking facepaint. He hands them a mirror to inspect themselves with while he concentrates on Norn. These illusions aren't about scale or spectacle- they simply need durability, and attention to detail. When Stratos steps back and moves his hands, there’s a short flicker of pale green light: the Andorian's antennae vanish, his skin turns a little paler, his eyes darker and sharp as his new ears. Felix applauds from the wall he's leaning against, much to his brother's eye-rolling.
"You make a handsome Dunmer, Norn," the younger mage tells him cheerfully.
"He does, but perhaps you should think more of showing your guests about rather than teasing them," his brother scolds. "I suspect they're curious to see exactly where we are." Jim would be- Stratos certainly would, in their place.
"Oh, I'm quite sure I can do both."
“It smells of trees, like where my old home was stranded.” The pale woman had been frowning into the mirror, trying to be sure this reflection was indeed herself but she looks up at the noisy one’s applause before handing off the mirror to the Andorian she’d come in with. They are strangers, but Jaylah has met hundreds of new faces since her acceptance into the Academy. If these are friends of James-Tee and Montgomery Scotty then they are her friends as well. It’s still somewhat comforting to have the Enterprise’s first officer at her side even if he doesn’t look quite like the man she knows he is. This doing is strange, but the effect is one she’s well accustomed to. Jaylah knows her way around stealth technology.
Norn hasn’t piped up, though his fingers grip tightly to the mirror in his hands. He felt fine when they were PINpointed in but something about all the light and
“...As if I’d miss this.” Especially considering they hadn’t done anything other than sign paperwork back in Norn’s world. No one would have even known if Felix hadn’t told him about it eventually.
“The captain--Jim. Has done quite a bit of debriefing us about this world and its native inhabitants. Felix here has dutifully been assisting with adjustments to our translators as needed. So long as we mind his alternate’s whereabouts and don’t let the man be drug off mistaking him for the groom all should go well.” The Vulcan offers Stratos what he hopes is a reassuring nod. “That being said we are gratified you are extending such efforts to allow us to be present for the proceedings.”
“And I am pleased to assist.” Stratos inclines his head in return, then pauses. “Ah. That is a risk. If Jim hasn’t told you, it’s tradition for each of the betrothed’s friends to ‘abduct’ the other for the evening before the ceremony – to keep them out of trouble. Several of Felix’s friends have volunteered to play the part; and it will be your responsibility to do the same for my brother.”
“Although really, what trouble am I likely to get into the half-day before my wedding?” Felix adds, grinning at Norn. Stratos gives him a look of exasperated disbelief - are you serious? - before turning back to the guests.
“Regardless, those illusions should hold without any trouble. I can check them again in the morning to make certain, but you will be quite safe to explore.”
“There will be no trouble.” Jaylah responds with a confidence well beyond her station. She’s seen enough of the crew she hopes to someday be a part of to know that much. That they can handle one wiry man with a lying smile. “He will not escape our watch. And if he tries the doctor will have him.” It’s so frank and candid that Norn has to hold a hand over his mouth lest he actually barks out a laugh. Even Spock swallows pointedly before trusting himself to speak.
“I don’t surmise that will be necessary, Cadet. Nevertheless.” Spock meets Felix’s gaze then. “Quite.” If Vulcans were capable of such things Felix might dare to guess Jim’s first officer seems almost amused by this prospect.
Stratos has to hold in a surprised laugh to see genuine trepidation on his little brother’s face at that. “Well then, it seems my brother will be in good hands.”
Felix pulls a face. This is the problem, dealing with people who have at least much of a knack for mischief as he does. “I’m, ah- going to see if Jim needs help with the…briefing… thing.”
Stratos shakes his head as he flees, but then beckons the others to follow. Now is the time to introduce them to all the people they’ll need to know before they head out into the town. To Cousin Marcella, hard at work overseeing her mother and Uncle Terentius with the other volunteers in the kitchen; to his lieutenant, Sir Celann, already well-versed in Nexus matters from his time guarding the door to Skyrim. To his and Felix’s father, Jim’s soon-to-be father-in-law.
After that, where they go is up to them, though per tradition Felix and Jim split everyone into two groups to show them around separately. Bruma’s no Yorktown- frankly it’s as far away from that technological paradise as one can get - but there are sights to see, from the hunters and craftspeople of many species walking its cobbled streets, to the Legion soldiers on patrol with sword and shield, to the great Castle where the Count and his family reside.
From the top of the city wall they can see just how high they are in the Jerralls, despite the peaks rising far above their backs; the weather is fine enough to see all of Cyrodiil stretching away ahead of them, miles and miles of rolling trees falling down to the distant shimmer of water. With a telescope, they can try to pick out the shape of a spire so tall it’s visible half a country away. The market is in swing near the Great Chapel, so Felix suggests they pass by in case anyone is interested in the mix of hand-carved bone and wood knickknacks, imported Dwemer relics, and good leather and fur apparel that’s usually on sale.
All too soon, though, the daylight begins to fail; shutters are drawn over windows, guard details start lighting public lamps. Jim’s crash course in Tamrielic food at a small bakery is interrupted by a gaggle of Nord and Imperial youngsters who take his arms and promise his friends to keep him safe for the evening - a promise that would be hard to buy, with those grins on their faces, if Stratos wasn’t standing at their head. As their captain’s escorted off, so it’s left to the crew to rendezvous and return the favor…
It’s a long, if pleasant evening. Stratos makes sure they take Jim to one of the nicer taverns- Felix will take the crew and ‘Tiberius’ to the Jerrall View Inn, to make sure they see the best the town can offer. But Jim deserves a good time too, especially with Felix’s friends teasing him. The captain’s more than able to give as good as he gets for a long while, but he doesn’t argue either when Stratos took them home and lets the unsteady captain retire for a few hours. Eventually, though, Stratos has to go and wake him. There’s something they need to do.
After a night of--well. Not heavy drinking, but enough that Jim’s quietly hungover when Stratos wakes him from the nap he’d been having, it still won’t take much to coax his soon to be brother-in-law into getting bundled up. He does ask Stratos where they’re doing though. Jolts awake more than a little when he hears what the elder Caelus has in mind.
“If we’re going, I need a minute.” He’s fumbling among his things for his PINpoint clumsily in the dark of the guest room. “I’ll be right back. I just need to get something--”
Jim’s only gone for a few moments but it’s enough for Stratos to wonder if it was wise letting the starship captain alone. When he returns via PINpoint he’s carrying a case in his hands.
“What is--”
“Shhh, you’ll wake half the household.” Jim tilts his head towards the door and they make their way outside. The chill that hangs in the air is enough to wake him entirely, which is good because Stratos hasn’t stopped hovering. “You said you wanted to go star-gazing. I’ve been meaning to do this for a long time now. No time like the present.”
Nothing about the case in his hands belongs on Nirn. Jim can’t honestly blame Stratos for being antsy over it. But no one else is about yet so Jim clicks open the case and starts setting up the small telescope he’d taught Stratos how to use back in the summer. He’s pleased by the recognition that flits across the Tribune’s face. Moreso by the glint of curiosity in the man’s eyes. Once it’s set up, Jim steps back and gestures for Stratos to go ahead.
“Go on, take a look.” After a moment, Jim rubs at the back of his neck. “Though I’m assuming this wasn’t the only reason you called me out here.”
Stratos has been looking up at the skies almost as long as he can remember, and watching the stars nearly as long as that. He's looked at the moons through telescopes, of course he has- yet he's never, ever seen them like this. The otherworldly technology of George Kirk's heirloom telescope gathers and refines the moonlight in ways few Tamrielic astronomers would even think to do; brings to focus every scar and blemish on Masser's half-shadowed face. Stratos has to pull back and look up at the great moon hanging over the mountain slopes to reassure himself of where it is; back to the telescope, and there it lies again, clear as if he held it in his hand. Even the stars shining through its hidden half are clear and brilliant, and Stratos thanks Kynareth tonight isn't overcast.
"…Hm?" He glimpses Jim's grin in the moonlight when he looks around. Stratos tries to remember what was just said. "Ah, no. I really do want to read the omens before you're wedded, but… that wasn't the only reason." He straightens up, the better to look Jim properly in the face. "It's sort of… customary, the night before a man is married, for his father to give him a few words of, er, advice. That is- his father, or perhaps his brother, if… circumstances demand."
“And what do the Omens say?” Jim folds his arms over his chest half in a bid to keep warm and half to put even the facsimile of a barrier between himself and the idea of George Kirk not being here for this. What sort of advice would the old man have? Jim won’t ever know. But he glances at the telescope set up to survey Nirn’s skies and thinks fondly back to the ship. His ship. His mission and duty. After all this time being told he’d never measure up Jim thinks that maybe his father would be proud of him after all. He’s certainly followed in George’s example. “You don’t have to. Believe me, no one can fill George Kirk’s shoes. I’ve tried.”
"You are family now, Jim," Stratos reminds him quietly. "We wouldn't have you do this alone. Which isn't to say- I'm sure Doctor McCoy would have done this, if I had mentioned it to him. But I… wanted to do it." Wanted to make sure he did the right thing by the man who's become less a brother-in-law than an adopted brother, over the last few years. He's travelled with Jim Kirk, fought alongside him, broken bread and watched out for each other when they teetered on the brink of despair. Through all the magical mishaps of the Nexus - turning them both into women, reducing them to children- luring Felix into madness and necromancy - he's come to know James T. Kirk not just as someone he can trust but as someone he's glad to trust in. A man brave and principled as he can be brash and stubborn, as intelligent as he is foolhardy. A man who needs support more than he admits and deserves it more than he'll believe.
Jim honest to god grimaces when Stratos mentions Bones being the one to have this kind of talk with him. Never mind that the man went through one of the worst divorces Jim’s ever heard of but their relationship is nothing like that kind of paternal doting, no matter how much older the CMO is than Jim. But he knows what it must look like to people and Bones is a sort of family to Jim. He gets it. But still.
“N..no, I’m glad you did. This is better.”
Despite the realization he’s made some sort of a mistake there, Stratos feels gratified that Jim would rather it be him. Maybe not by a large margin, given the captain’s expression, but Stratos wanted to take this place. He smiles slightly in the red-tinted moonlight, glancing up at the stars to give them both a little room to breathe. He’s never had the chance for this conversation with his own father; he doesn’t know what Nereus would say, or what Jim needs most to hear. He and Felix know each other intimately; have done so for years. Their feelings for each other can be in no doubt.
“How do you feel?” he asks gently. “I know all of this is… very different to the way you preferred in your world.”
“Terrified.” Jim’s answer is immediate, but his laugh is cheerful despite being full of nerves. “I’m about to put on the biggest lie I’ve ever had to sell in front of half your home town tomorrow, and now we’ve brought the crew into it--some of whom aren’t even human. There’s so many ways this could go wrong.” He feels alive with nervous energy that has no place to go. Marrying Felix isn’t such a big deal all on it’s own. Hell, Jim would argue they’ve already been married for a year at this point.
It’s the ceremony and the Actual Real Gods they’re looking for blessing from. It’s the sheer number of people about to be present and all the questions neither Jim nor his crew can answer truthfully. It’s the risk they’re running relying on their translators staying undiscovered and species Nirn has never known before staying hidden away. The fact that Jim’s only ‘family’ invited to this event isn’t even his brother but an alternate reality version of himself. Lay it all out and this plan is terrifying in its scope and audacity.
But it’s the only one they’ve got. After all the work Jim and Felix’s family have done to make this happen there’s no way the captain would think of turning away now.
“I’m scared to death I’m going to screw this up somehow.”
Stratos shoots him a smile. The intimacies of marriage are, sadly, a subject he yet knows little about. But illusions and deceptions are another matter. He reaches out to squeeze Jim’s shoulder.
“The most effective illusions,” he says, “have two ingredients. One, they tell a story that no-one will think to question. Even knowing Felix’s talent for conjuration, people won’t dream that a Dunmer might not be a Dunmer, or that an entire cast of friends and family might be feigning their identities. And two, good illusions build from a seed of truth. You and Felix are wholly in love with each other; the guests you’ve brought have come because they love you and wish to celebrate with you. All of that makes the most potent truth I can think of. A tiny gloss of deception over a few details… well, the oldest family of mages in Bruma can surely manage that.”
Stratos’ brother-to-be leans into the touch. Nods along with what the mage is saying. Stratos is a hell of an illusionist. Jim’s seen evidence of that first hand. Not only that, the man is cautious to a fault. If he’s confident they’re doing this well enough then Jim has to admit that at least some of his fears are pure anxiety. It doesn’t magically make that fear go away, sadly, but it does help curb him from ramping up any more. This time tomorrow he’ll be officially married. All the effort everyone has made across both worlds will finally bear fruit.
“I’m not getting back to sleep, so we may as well get some more use out of Dad’s telescope. Come on, show me what these omens you were checking are about.”
The crew were good to their word in keeping Felix busy. Honestly, if he’d mustered every last shred of remaining childishness in him, the conjurer couldn’t have resented their watchful company. Not just because they were trying to safeguard the very thing he wants to go off without the faintest tremor of a hitch tomorrow. Not just because they’re Jim’s friends – and Jim’s alternate, doing their best to look out for the captain he loves. But because they’ve become his friends too, after months living among them, sharing in their world. Slowly, in some cases, but not for any lack of kindness or hospitality on their part. It’s hard not to become fond of these brave, intelligent people, and if there’s still so much he doesn’t understand about their world, Felix is happy to have shown them something of his this time.
They’re diligent about steering him home when it gets late, marching him through the cobbled streets beneath the rising moons. It’s a pleasant walk, despite the cold nipping at their skin, and Felix is joking with Norn when he realises they’re coming up under the shadow of the Great Chapel. The stonework is pale in the moonlight, the many-colored windows glowing softly from within. Felix stops, staring up at it, and shakes his head when Bones tries to nudge him into moving.
“Easy does it, kid. We’re not too far from your home now.”
“No- no, I need to… go in, for a few. You can go on.” They share looks, but they don’t stop him when he heads inside. His feet are mostly steady; the drinks he was allowed are wearing off by now. Only a couple of small fires burn inside, but that’s all right: he doesn’t mind the cold the way he used to.
This was the Great Chapel of Talos, once, marking Bruma as the centre of the god’s worship in Cyrodiil. That ended before he was born, when the Thalmor came. They never managed to take the city in war, but they’d taken what they wanted from it in peace. Now the altar to Talos is replaced by one consecrated to the Eight; the stained glass above depicts his last descendant instead of Tiber Septim himself. Felix has never known it any other way, but Bruma’s history is his history. Ties of blood and loyalty and duty he’s always worn lightly until now. Now he’s asking Jim to be bound by them, too. Oh, he knows the captain will say yes, gladly, a thousand times, even if he doesn’t understand what it means, but…
Does even Felix understand that, really?
The last time he was here… he hadn’t told anyone. He’d been trembling even to cross the threshold, with his hair bleached white by unholy magic, the residue of it still festering under his skin. He’d sunk to his knees and whispered pleas to Arkay, to Mara, Stendarr, begged them to forgive the stench oiling from him…
Felix lets out a long, shuddering exhale and opens his eyes. The light of the lamps and candles is soft around him, casting steady shadows around the arches and pews. He was forgiven, he’s sure of that. The touch of Mara’s amulet in his pocket is warm, not burning. And yet… coming before the Divines and asking their blessing like any good, faithful man- is that really for him? Stepping into a life of responsibility and devotion, of a lover he can’t keep secrets from, a household he can’t run away from- is Felix Caelus really capable of that? After…
“There you are.”
He jumps at his father’s voice, kindly though it is. Felix lurches around, yanking his hand down from his hair. For a second he gapes stupidly, before he remembers, and swallows. “Oh, ah. Sorry, father. I should have known you’d be looking for me.”
“You weren’t so hard to locate. I found Jim’s friends- Norn and Spock, I think? – waiting on the steps for you.” Nereus smiles at his son as he joins him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and standing close enough that Felix can feel his warm aura. Nereus is a head taller than his younger son and broader in the shoulders, taking after their Colovian ancestry in stature where Felix only has the complexion. It’s only ever exacerbated his larger-than-life impression in Felix’s eyes. “Even if I must say it was a little surprising to find you in here.”
“Yes… well…” He bites his lip. There’s so much his father does not – should not know. And they’ve never had that many serious conversations at all, with Nereus’s duties making him an infrequent visitor in his sons’ lives. “I’ve never really been a pious… sort of fellow, father. Or very faithful.”
“Certainly not overly reverent, either,” Nereus says dryly. “I’ve noticed, don’t worry. Some people would have had me take your books away the moment you started asking to conjure a familiar of your own. Were I so worried about you being perfectly prim and pious, I would have taken their advice.”
Felix smiles a little at that, though the unease coiled in his stomach hasn’t gone. “I’m thankful you didn’t. It’s just… tomorrow, standing in front of the priests, taking sacred vows… asking the Divines themselves to hold our marriage safe…”
“Do you wonder if you’re ready?” Nereus asks gently when he hesitates, “or if you’re worthy?”
“Both,” he admits, stung by the accidental accuracy – it must be accident. “What if I’m not fit for this? If I’m not the kind of man who can hold a sacred compact? I’ve neglected the Divines all these years, and now here I am asking something precious of them. It seems… a bit much.” Nereus nods thoughtfully. Felix fidgets a little, unsure what his father will say.
“You’ve always been the boy to see what he can get away with,” the elder Caelus says. “I remember that. Always pushing the rules and sneaking into places you weren’t meant to go. My study, hm? Cloud Ruler Temple? Stratos was afraid to even tell me about that. You might be afraid of the consequences, but it never stopped you getting into the mischief. But you did it, I think, because you trusted in us to protect you. Trusted that we would heal your scrapes and dry your tears, and forgive you without much effort because we love you.
“Has it been any different with the Divines? I’m sure you’ve been up to all kinds of things they don’t approve of down the years – and probably asked little forgiveness either. But did you actually forsake them? Truly forget their teachings? Deliberately disrespect them?” Nereus gives him a sidelong look, eyebrows raised. “Or did you push your luck just far enough to make sure they wouldn’t get really angry with you?”
“I…” Felix opens his mouth. “Well-“ His father is smiling again. He swallows and admits, “The last one. At least. I hope. But…”
“That sounds more like the little boy who cried if anyone was upset with him, yes.” Nereus wraps an arm over his shoulders and gives him a shake, chuckling. “So perhaps you should trust in the gods’ love the way you trust in ours, hm? You may be the troublesome little brother, but you are family, and they will hold you close.”
There’s so much warmth and conviction in his father’s voice. It’s like being a child again, reassured on a level too deep for questioning. Felix leans into his father’s embrace and returns it, wordlessly grateful for the knot in his gut melting away. Tomorrow, he’ll be nervous. But tomorrow, he’ll have Jim.
“That’s really… I didn’t realize you’d understand so well,” he admits, when he pulls back.
“Well.” Nereus quirks a smile. “I was the youngest brother once, you know.”
“I mean- yes, of course. I suppose I’ve just never thought of you that way.” Only as a distant, fearsome man of terrifying authority and intimidating benevolence. It’s strange to look at him as simply a man, now. Albeit a battlemage who could surely level half the town if he were to lose his senses.
“No, I expect not.” Nereus sighs a little sadly, then shakes his son’s shoulders. “We never see our fathers as children, do we? Now, shall we get back to a warm fire before Marcella comes after us?”
“That sounds wonderful- unless you have any more advice for me about, um. Being a married man.”
The elder Caelus pauses and turns back to him, studying his wayward son with a mix of hope… and wistfulness. Regret.
“You and Jim… are blessed already to have found each other, and kept each other. And you’re fortunate beyond measure that you have the chance to stay side by side. Never let go of that. Don’t let the two of you be parted. Don’t… don’t miss a moment of the time you have together.”
Don’t do as we did, Felix hears. He bites his lip and nods, fervently. “I won’t. We won’t.”
“Good.” Nereus reaches out a hand to draw his tired son home. He gives Felix a hug as they start towards the doors, and murmurs, “That’s all your mother and I could ask for.”
