#I mean Voryn isn’t WRONG

[trickstarbrave]

Today I did a little drawing and coloring, a bit of writing on moon and star, and I cleaned up the depression nest around my bed that got rly bad (don’t wanna talk abt it. It was a mix of mental illness and bad physical health since this time last year. Lmao.) all that’s rly left in my room to be clean is me going thru my clothes, donating any I don’t rly like anymore and can’t fit into, washing and putting stuff away, and stuff. I probably have a bunch that need altering too tbh but that’ll have to wait until the sewing machine is moved

So I’m feeling pretty great. Hopefully I’ll be able to fall asleep bc I have work but my wife is coming to visit this week :)))))

Funny part of moon and star is they met some Dwemer who only rly trust house Dagoth and they’re looking at Nerevar like “why are you with him. Who is he” and Voryn tries to explain it before lying and saying Nerevar is engaged to him so it’s fine. Nerevar does not know Voryn said this bc it was in dwemeris

[nerevar-moon-and-star]

not as if salt-rose

read on ao3

“I love you,” Nerevar blurted awkwardly, hands twisting in the folds of his cloak, dripping in the doorway. It was a rainy evening in late autumn. The chill in the air demanded an extra layer or two, but the damp was pervasive enough to defeat most fabrics. He felt clammy. It was not, in any sense, a romantic evening.

Voryn looked up from the tea that was nearly ready, glancing over Nerevar’s soggy clothes and shaking hands. “I love you, too,” he said simply, and fished for a second mug. “Where are your gloves?”

“I--” Nerevar began. He blinked. “You. What?”

“You’re freezing. Come over here by the fire, and give me that.” He confiscated the damp cloak and maneuvered Nerevar’s confused and unresisting body into the chair. Voryn’s own cloak was warm and dry and he draped it around Nerevar’s shoulders. He poured the tea and gave Nerevar’s a generous spoonful of honey, then pushed it across the table. “What is wrong?” he asked, finally, stirring his own tea.

“You love me?” Nerevar said in a small voice, nervously. “Really?”

Voryn stared at him for a long moment, then said gently, “Did you not know? After all of this time…? We’ve known each other since we were children.”

“No, I mean--” Nerevar rubbed his face. “I mean I'm. In love with. You.”

“So do I.” He folded one of his hands around Nerevar’s, and smiled ruefully. “I thought you knew.” Nerevar’s hands were cold, but Voryn suspected they were shaking more from nerves than the temperature. Voryn rubbed them in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Voryn had never been exceptionally good at people.

“I’m an idiot. I’ve been worried . That you would be upset, somehow. That I would wreck everything by trying to talk about it, and I was afraid--afraid that you wouldn’t… I don’t know.” Nerevar dragged his fingers through his hair. “You could do better, you know. Someone who isn’t, generally, an idiot, or whose eyes didn’t glaze over when you tried to talk about magic or your research.”

Voryn recaptured one of his hands and sighed. “Nerevar, that is no one better than you, no one I would prefer, no one who would suit me more.”

“Are you sure, ” Nerevar said helplessly.

“Yes. You aren’t putting a curse on me. I’ve apparently had far longer than you to consider it, and I have. What are you worrying over? What scares you, specifically--if you know?”

“I didn’t—” He shook his head. “Don’t know what I’m doing. With anything, really.” Nerevar smiled lopsidedly, and huffed a laugh. “People think I‘m so gifted with words, but look at me. Not sure I could be more awkward if I tried.”

“None of that ever mattered to me, you know. What other people seem to value in you, which tends to only be what they wish to turn to their own ends. I fell in love with an awkward and earnest boy who smiled like the sun and had a heart made of gold. A long, long time ago. You haven’t changed, and I haven’t wanted you to.”

Nerevar took a sip of his tea, looking down at the table.  “Sometimes I’m afraid I will. That I’m going to lose myself, or my understanding of myself, somewhere between the politics and negotiations. I worry about it too much, maybe. But you still feel like home, so I can’t have, yet,” he said softly, fiddling with the spoon while he tried and failed to distract himself from the tears prickling his eyes.

Voryn made a quiet sound and pulled Nerevar to his feet to enfold him in his arms.

“Going to get your shirt wet,” Nerevar murmured into the curve of his shoulder, muffled. It was silk. Soft under his cheek. Voryn smelled like sandalwood.

Voryn combed his fingers slowly through Nerevar’s hair. “Fuck the shirt.”

“Going to get snot on your shirt.”

“Fuck the shirt.”

“I’m not even sure why I’m crying,” Nerevar said after a moment, trying and somewhat failing to reassemble himself.

Voryn leaned his cheek against Nerevar and hummed quietly. “You were very afraid.”

“I was very afraid.” Nerevar rubbed his eyes gracelessly on one sleeve and sighed. “And tired. I’m so tired, Voryn.”

“Then put it down for a little while. All of this. It can wait.”

[trickstarbrave]

Vivec reveals essentially that after becoming a god he left the original mortal universe he was originally born in behind and a new reality+timeline formed where he was always a god

Now I’m considering a 4th timeline where Nerevar was always a god and what it would mean for everyone. All the saints (ALMSIVI+voryn) also had magical auspicious births. I can’t imagine Voryn as being born anywhere but house Dagoth

He is born on a holiday. Wise women from the four tribes come to convene at Kogoruhn to call him the holy child of red mountain. The priests hear things whispered in their ears they can’t make sense of. Morvani Dagoth was told of a prophecy from their first matriarch that a child will be born, favorite of Lorkhan. A hawk is nesting outside her window, despite not normally being in this part of Vvardenfell. The eggs hatch while she’s in labor, and her son is born with feathers.

Morvani is shocked. The midwife fainted, from seeing a baby with feathers. Any other house they would call the boy cursed. But perhaps everyone in House Dagoth knew instinctively. The wise women of four tribes sing songs of blessings. The livestock grow restless until Voryn gives his first cry.

He grows up favorite of house Dagoth, laughing and playing despite how different he looked. He is happy and loved, yet he sometimes looks sad and quiet. Morvani asked him what was wrong. He said he didn’t know, but he felt incomplete and hollow sometimes. Her needs something, but doesn’t know what. His mother told him she would not let him want for anything and his birth was a blessing, and that when he knew what he wanted she would give him anything.

Them one night, Mephala comes to him and tells him the thing he seeks is in red mountain. He is a child of the mountain. He will not be complete until he learns what that means. Voryn rushes to his mother, and tells her what he was told. She sighed, for red mountain was dangerous, and Voryn was still young.

She instructs Voryn to go with his seven brothers, for they are the most powerful of house Dagoth and the only ones worth to guard a holy child like Voryn. But on the trail of the mountain each brother perished to save Voryn’s life. It is when they are deep in a cave in red mountain, gilvoth is the last brother to give his life for Voryn (I’m sure each death would be explained but I’m too lazy and tired to make them all up. Maybe later). Voryn is in tears and wonders if it’s worth it to find out what he has been missing. But he knows Mephala would only ask this of him if it were truly important. His brothers did not die in vain, and he will honor them until his final breaths for their sacrifice

Deep within the heart of red mountain he hears a drum that fills him with fear, but more importantly makes him sob. He’s uncontrollably sobbing by the time he comes to a great piece of what appears to be solid ebony through blurry eyes. But he can feel a soft beating under his hands.

(On one hand I kinda wanna make egg Nerevar and have him be carried around by vivec a la a reversal of the 36 sermons of vivec but I also wanna write it so Voryn is who finds Nerevar. So)

Then, red mountain shakes, lava bubbling up. But Voryn can’t bring himself to leave. He can’t leave this heart. This is what he has been missing. His duty has always been to guard this. The reason his house was founded was for this reason. Even if he was to die here, he must give his life. The lava doesn’t even feel hot, not when he’s focused on the peace he feels now that he’s finally whole.

Sure enough, the lava rises, but Voryn isn’t burned. He cries, and his tears become obsidian. Finally, the lava receeds, and Voryn is unharmed.

Then, the heart cracks. Voryn panics, thinking he had failed to protect it, when a golden hand grips the edge, and an elf pulls himself out. There is black on his hands like Mephala, and streaks of molten ebony running down his body like blood. Voryn can’t breathe, overwhelmed by his beauty. He’s heard tales of Lorkhan, killed for the crime of creating Mundus, and he knows in his soul this is Lorkhan. Voryn must be dead his soul come to join him.

The elf kneels down, and runs his fingers through Voryn’s hair.

“Dagoth Ur, you have come well to find me.” He smiles, and Voryn’s heart briefly stops.

“My beloved, I have dreamed of you as I walked the planes of oblivion. You are far more beautiful than my mind could imagine though, yet you haunted me.”

“Who are you?” Voryn asked.

“In the endless eternal void, Mephala named me “Nerevar”, gave me the ghartoki padhome, and sent me afloat on a river of pure night, this is my first blessing. I washed ashore on Moonshadow, and I was fed and raised by the lady of twilight, this is my second blessing. Then, when demons hungered for my flesh, so they may become divine, it was Boethiah who taught me to kill and eat them myself, this is my third blessing.

“Then, as I wandered, I heard a faint voice. I entered into a cave, and saw the birth and death of Mundus there times over. My father, Lorkhan, told me of my true fate and the nature of the world, this is my fourth blessing.

“I am Nerevar, son of Lorkhan. And you are the keeper of my heart, chief priest of my first temple. And today, I make you my husband before the heart of my father before me, what led me here to you.”

And Nerevar kissed him, his lips and tongue tasting of blood. When liquid ebony touched his tongue, Voryn Dagoth had become changed forever, becoming Dagoth Ur as he always was meant to be. Their wedding night, red mountain trembled, harsh waves crashing the Telvanni towers. Those of house Dagoth feared its eruption the most, knowing it would mean certain death for the young lords, the future of their house.

When it was finished, Voryn made them a pair of robes from lava, and Nerevar fashioned them wedding gifts of ebony. The two left the cave, and on their way out, lord Gilvoth, who had been encased in lava, cracked through the hardened stone and began to walk and follow the pair, now garbed in lava red robes and ebony armor.. Every brother the passed did the same, joining the procession, garbed similarly. They carried the wedding gifts down, all the way to Kogoruhn. Everyone rejoiced, and the brothers were known as ash saints within House Dagoth.

Nerevar presented Morvani Dagoth with the wedding gifts, saying Voryn was destined to be his husband, so they had to wed that very night, but he wanted to ask for her blessing. Morvani laughed, and then she cried joyous tears. They held a wedding within Kogoruhn as well, in honor of the Sixth House of Resdayn.

Aw fuck I just remembered Apache tears and now I feel kinda shit about including obsidian tears. I don’t know maybe I’m just overthinking