#oc: rilenna

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 14 (Day 3)- Ghost/Hungry

Thoughts of the Nerevarine, Rilenna, as they prepare to go up Red Mountain for the final confrontation. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Dunmer Nerevarine who is not Nerevar.  

Warnings- none

Wordcount- ~650

***

I’m haunted by a ghost. I never see him, never hear him. He doesn’t fling things around or write strange messages in blood. But he’s constant, ever-present. He dogs every step and action and word I say.  

I can’t get rid of him. 

The worst part is that he’s taking over my life. I have a mission now, and it’s basically picking up the pieces and cleaning up a mess he left behind. Sorting out the ramifications of things that happened thousands of years ago. They gave me his ring. Now they call me by his name. Everyone does. Even his friends. Even his enemies. My own name is becoming lost, pushed away and forgotten. 

I want to scream at them. I want to grab them by the shoulders and tell them: MY NAME IS RILENNA! But they don’t hear it. All they see is him. To them, I am him, somehow returned after all this time. I’m the one who checks all the boxes for their prophecy, even if they spit at me and call me outlander. N’wah. They like that word. It doesn’t matter that I’m as Dunmer as they are. I’m not from here, so I don’t count. Rilenna is not welcome here. Only Nerevar is. 

The only problem is that I’m not Nerevar. Never was, never will be. I was supposed to think I was, but something fucked up. Even Azura can’t explain exactly what went wrong. So I’m still Rilenna, but now with Nerevar’s memories stuck in my head. Now I can’t get rid of him no matter where I go. The ghost has found himself a home inside my brain. 

Maybe it would’ve been easier. Maybe if I wasn’t so stubborn. I could’ve let go, let his memories take over. I could’ve been the hero, the Nerevar that everyone wants. People would laud me and bow to me and I wouldn’t feel like an impostor. I wouldn’t feel that resentment at being called his name. I’d feel like I knew what I was doing, rather than grasping at straws and hoping I didn’t make things any worse. I wouldn’t look in the mirror, desperately hoping to still see myself reflected back at me, and wanting to smash it every time I feel like there’s some glimpse of him in my face. 

I wish I still knew who I was, what I was. 

I wish I had never taken this ring. 

I wish Azura had chosen someone else. 

I wish the human emperor had sent someone else. 

I wish I’d never come to Morrowind. 

I wish this ghost would stop haunting me. 

I wish I could still just be Rilenna.

But all that’s left now is the mountain, and the figure in the gold mask. He’s waiting for him. He’s going to be disappointed, this Dagoth Ur. Because all he’s going to get is me. He’s waited all this time for someone who’s not coming back. Who sent instead some n’wah Dunmer that doesn’t even know how to be a Dunmer. That’s pretty cold. I won’t blame him for smiting me on the spot. At least then I’d be free of all this. 

I look up at the mountain. It’s time. One way or another, it all ends here. Two souls, trapped by these accursed circumstances, destined to meet beneath the mountain. Destined to fight, betrayed and abandoned by ones that were supposed to love them. I wish I could run, wish we could run. What if we just ran together? What if we left all of this behind, abandoned destiny and prophecy as we’ve been abandoned? 

But we can’t. It’s been too long. The threads of this cursed tapestry are too tightly woven. So I start up the mountain, tools forged by a long-dead people in my hands, to play it out. We have no other choice. Not in this place where destiny is made.              

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 9th (Day 5): Prompt- Forgotten / Devotion

Day 5: Devotion- Dagoth Ur is dead. But Voryn Dagoth survived and now has to deal with that fact, and the fact that everyone and everything he once cared about is gone. But the Nerevarine isn’t quite ready to give up on him— or let him give up— just yet.  Post-game Morrowind (and completed Tribunal expansion), Pre/Early relationship. Rilenna uses they/them pronouns and is not Nerevar. Shameless Nerevoryn shipping (both Nerevar and Nerevarine). Voryn is dramatic and we love him for it.

Voryn Dagoth x Indoril Nerevar, Dunmer Nerevarine x Voryn Dagoth

Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Warnings- Blood, canon-typical violence

Wordcount- around 1800

(image made in picrew. description in alt text)

***

He hurt. He was recovering, yes, but it would take time for him to regain his strength. His wounds were mostly healed, though the stab that had gone through his body would ache for a long time yet. But he would survive. 

That was part of the hurt. That he survived at all. He shouldn't have. He believed that to his core. It would've been so easy. To make an end of it once and for all. He would have welcomed that fall, to join all his machinations in the lava below. To end things at Red Mountain, where it had all begun and ended and begun again the first time. To die for good, as he should have. 

To be with Nerevar again. 

Ancestors, he missed Neht. His beloved, but never truly his. Circumstance had always kept them apart in some way, no matter how they'd tried. He knew he wasn’t the only one who’d felt that way, but at the time they'd all done what was needed. And he'd done it, gritting his teeth and smiling as he had. His devotion had been absolute; to his House, to his Hortator, and to the First Council’s grand plan to unite and protect their people. And all he’d been rewarded with had been betrayal, death, and then a terrible, corrupt existence. He’d been freed from all that, but had no devotion left to give. Not that there was anything left to devote himself to; everything was long gone. And had he died, perhaps he could have finally been with Nerevar. But he hadn’t died, and it was a terrible, deserved punishment for his many, many sins. 

"Hey Voryn, you wanna go for a walk or should I just leave you here feeling sorry for yourself?" a voice asked in Cyrod-accented Dunmeris, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up; Rilenna stood at the entrance to their cave with their hands on their hips. They grinned. 

"I am an expert on feeling sorry for oneself, but we should get you up and about. We've been here nearly two weeks. I don't know if you plan on staying in this cave forever, but sooner or later I'd like a proper place to sleep." 

"You don't have to stay." He tried to say it offhandedly, like the leaving of the one person who'd shown him kindness in nearly four thousand years wouldn't affect him. 

As he got to his feet and made his way over, they sighed sarcastically. "All that talk of wanting me to come meet you and now you want me to go? 'Come, Sweet Nerevar…’ and all that? I know I'm not Nerevar, but I didn't think my company was that bad!" 

The self-deprecation at the end made something inside him twist. Not for the fact that Rilenna was not truly Nerevar reborn and the inherent mourning in that, but for how they constantly made such digs at themselves. He reached out, and touched their shoulder. 

“I do like your company. But, I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay.” 

Rilenna shrugged. “Where else would I go? Besides, I dragged you out of that volcano, I should at least make sure you can take care of yourself. Especially after I stabbed you. Come on, let’s walk through the trees. It’s a nice day today, we’ll go down to the river, maybe even catch something for supper!” 

“That sounds lovely.”

The walk to the river was slow. He was better, but still easily winded. Rilenna slid their arm around him, their other hand taking his as he started to sag.

“I got you. Is this too much? Should we go back?” Their crimson eyes had gone big, and they chewed their bottom lip as he wheezed. 

“No. Let’s keep going. I’ll be alright.” 

“You don’t look alright.”

“We’ll walk slower. I’ll be fine. It would be nice to sit by the water.” He assured them. They put a hand to his forehead, just above that third eye that was a reminder of what he’d been. They frowned, like a mother checking a child for illness, but nodded. 

“Okay.”   

By the time they got to the river he was glad to drop onto the scrubby grass and sit. The walk, though short, had taken a lot more out of him than he cared to admit. Rilenna hovered over him, pressing a waterskin into his hands.

"Have something to drink." 

He did, and it helped a little. "Thank you." 

"Are you in pain anywhere?" 

Before he could reply, a voice rasped from the trees. "If he's not now, he might be. Or we could avoid that and you two could give us whatever coin and valuables you've got."

A half dozen roughly dressed mer melted out of the forest around them. Despite their ragged appearance, their weapons were honed and well cared for. They surrounded them in a loose circle, taunting grins on their faces.

Rilenna drew their axe. "Fuck you and the guar you rode in on. You're getting nothing from us but an ass kicking." 

"Huh, and here I thought you were a proper Dunmer, but you're just a filthy n'wa….." 

Rilenna's axe clove the man's face in two before he could finish the slur. That stunned the rest for a second, buying them a precious few seconds. Rilenna kicked and swung, knocking the thugs away from Voryn as much as possible. They cast both Weapon and Armor Eater in quick succession before throwing themselves into the fray. And they were relentless. He could only watch in awe, before coming to his senses and casting a barrier spell to keep Rilenna protected from harm. He couldn't do much else. 

One of the bandits saw this, and made for him. He knew he couldn't hold the spell on Rilenna and protect himself at the same time. But nor could he actually fight in his wounded state. He grit his teeth, perhaps if he could…

But the bandit was on him now, delivering a kick to his ribs that sent a shriek through his body. He gasped— in too much pain to scream— as his body curled protectively around itself. Through watered eyes he watched the other man raise his foot again and braced for more. 

The bandit stopped, frozen to the spot. Then a blade went through his neck, separating head from body. The body fell in a heap, head rolling to rest about five feet away. 

The bandits were quiet now, because now they were all dead. He looked around in a daze. Rilenna had made short work of them. He knew they were an indomitable warrior, but he'd never been so close to their raw, aggressive power. Their own duel had been much more civilized, in comparison. He saw now how powerful a battlemage the Nerevarine really was. Rilenna had told him they hadn’t really wanted to fight him, and watching this proved how much they’d held back. He’d been a god, but Rilenna was a god-slayer.   

But now their hands were gentle, probing him for new wounds. Their voice rose with worry. "Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you? Voryn, look at me, talk to me… please." 

He looked up blearily at mention of his name, and beheld a vision that took his breath. Rilenna was splashed with blood as red as their hair; as red as their eyes that still held a feral wildness in them. And that wildness made his heart skip a beat. 

"Voryn?" They asked again softly, pushing back the hair that had fallen into his face. No one had had concern and compassion for him since Neht. Not until this hero, who'd fought him, destroyed everything he'd worked for, and then saved him. 

"I'm… I'm alright." He rasped, throat so suddenly dry he could barely talk. 

"Good. Here, drink this healing draught. I think you could use it." 

They pressed it into his hands and he drank. The warmth of it paled in comparison to the warmth that spread through him as Rilenna wrapped gentle arms around him. 

"I'm so glad you're okay. I saw that one guy kick you and…" They swallowed hard, then continued lightly, "I did a lot of work to keep you from dying once already. I don't wanna do that again. Why don't we move upriver a little? I don't want this to ruin our day. And you could use the fresh air." 

They moved along until they rounded a corner and the bodies were out of sight. Rilenna washed the blood off themselves and spread out their ground blanket for them to sit on. They brought out some snacks and wine and they ate together. The sun was warm and the water cool, and it was just nice. Nicer than either of them could have asked for.  

Later, the two of them argued playfully as they tried to fish with little success. 

"Maybe pull the line a little more?" he suggested, before joking, “I thought you knew how to do this!” 

"No, I'm from the city!" Rilenna cried with mock indignation.  

"A city on a lake!" 

"You think they'd let riff raff like me near the fancy lake estates? Ha! And the parts of the docks that weren’t so nice was no place for a Dunmer kid if you wanted to stay alive. You didn’t fish as a fancy nobleman?”

“I was busy with other things as well!”  

They both laughed, splashing around like kids. Eventually they retired back to the blanket, drinking a little more wine. Voryn was tired now, but by the Ancestors this had been fun.  

He put a hand on Rilenna’s shoulder, though it drifted a little and settled between their shoulder blades. “Thank you. This was a lovely idea.”

“Hey, no problem! We should do this more often, yeah?”

“I’d like that.” 

Sitting like this and enjoying the day, Voryn realized that perhaps he had a little bit of devotion left in him yet. He’d just needed to be shown the right person to give it to. Perhaps it was the last person most would expect; Rilenna was after all the hero who’d been prophesied to be his enemy and defeat him. But they’d also saved him, and the more time they spent together, he knew that it could be no one else. Rilenna was not Nerevar (or even him returned);  they were instead their own gloriously unique person. And though he hadn’t thought it possible, they’d stolen his heart. No, he corrected himself as he met Rilenna’s smile, Not stolen. I give it freely. 

“Watcha thinking?” Rilenna asked, nudging him a little. 

“Just about how fortunate I am.”

Their smile softened, and they leaned their shoulder into his. “That makes two of us.”             

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 19- Free Day 

For the last day, I thought maybe I’d do a character round-up. This will cover all of my current ocs for TES. Just for fun and to give a quick rundown of this ever-expanding cast; since I don't think I've ever done this and some of these characters are very new. There are two timelines currently for Skyrim ocs, although some characters exist in both.  Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Warnings- picture heavy,  often off-canon

Starts after the break and all images described in alt text:

Morrowind:

-Rilenna Nerevar Dagoth 

The reluctant Nerevarine and Hortator. Eventual Lady Dagoth. Dunmer. I don't have a good screenshot of them, so here's the best picrew I made of them.

Oblivion: 

-Aethelfrid Bright-Spear

The Hero of Kvatch, Champion of Cyrodiil, Eventual God of Madness. Nord. 

Skyrim main timeline:

-Besharat Earth-Breaker do Bergama 

Dragonborn, Harbinger of the Companions, Sword Singer. Redguard 

-Azuri Indoril 

Dragonborn, Archmage of Winterhold. Dunmer.

-Orielle Themond 

Circle member, Magicka expert of the Companions. Breton. 

-Thaeril Sun-Hair 

Hunter. Thieves’ Guildmaster. Bosmer. 

-Lilethys Dagoth 

Thieves' guild member. Daughter of Rilenna and Voryn and scion of the Sixth House. Dunmer.  

-Nythauriel Hilyat-Alasilwend

Traveler. Companion. Snow Elf 

-Chihari 

Pahmar-raht warrior and sister of Kharjo. Khajiit. 

-Brelas Rallathil

Friend to Azuri. College member and minor Telvanni noble. Dunmer. 

-Honorine Perieux 

Former Vigilant of Stendarr. Companion and werewolf. Breton. 

Skyrim Second Timeline: 

-Noora at-Sura 

The Last Dragonborn. Descendant of Cyrus. Redguard. 

-Alfrithmaer (Fritha) Snowborn 

Lady of the Companions. Nord/Altmer.

 

Both timelines: 

-Kiinseros Dremmiraak 

The Prince of Hope. Child of Sheogorath and Akatosh. Has a humanoid and a draconic form. Their realm is called The Refuge. Et’ada. 

-Isvild Ink-Hands 

Librarian of Apocrypha. Nord. 

[late-nite-scholar]

Double Speak OC Tag Game

Thank you @dirty-bosmer for the tag! Making me think a little deeper! Gonna do three characters this time! The Nerevarine and the two canon Dragonborns.

Tagging: @marlynnofmany @mareenavee @stormbeyondreality @frankensonnet @svartalfhild

(Sorry if you've already been tagged, and if not feel free to join in :D)

1. What do they say they want? (i.e., what are the desires they put out into the world and have no trouble admitting)

Rilenna- To escape and be left alone. To have nothing to do with prophecies and ancient history and being a possible reincarnation of some long-dead Hero King.

Besharat- To be a great swordswoman and warrior. To fight with honor to great renown.

Azuri- To be her own person and find her own destiny. She’s lived with the idea of ‘grand destiny’ all her life, but wants to find what exactly that means for herself.

2. What do they think they want? (i.e., what are the desires they keep hidden and only admit to their closest loved ones)

Rilenna- to make something of themselves. To be more than just a street kid with nothing to their name.  

Besharat- To be worthy of all the titles bestowed on her. Dragonborn, Harbinger, and mother, most importantly. She just wants to do right by all those who depend on her.

Azuri- To not be judged. To be allowed to just be herself,  not matter what that looks like.

3. What do they actually want? (i.e., what is something they subconsciously need, but either do not realize or cannot admit it)

Rilenna- To be loved. Gods, do they ever just want (and need) someone who actually loves and cares for them.

Besharat- To prove her parents wrong. To prove she has found where she belongs and has made something of herself.

Azuri- To know that no matter what happens, she is still worthy. That she has value beyond this ‘grand destiny’.  

[late-nite-scholar]

Morning Star, Second Seed, and Sun's Height

Morning Star- the first thing I think about is, which race I want to go with. Then, I design the character, and then when I'm done with the CC I look up names and see what is culturally appropriate and what fits. Backstory I might have a little bit, but that tends to fill itself in as I play and get a feel for them. I will often hit up uesp for cultural lore, especially for a race I haven't spent a lot of time with yet, and get a feel for who I'm playing. This also helps fill out backstory. This is across the board.

Second Seed- My only for sure alchemist is Azuri. She makes defensive potions, and resource regenerating ones.

Sun's Height- Besharat and Orielle usually hit up Belethor since he's conveniently located between Breezehome and Jorrvaskr. Azuri goes to Birna in Winterhold for both convenience and to give her more business. Thaeril has no particular favorite but will hit up Riverwood Trader when she's in the area. Aethelfrid tends to shop and sell in Bruma. I haven't yet got a favorite for Rilenna.

Skyrim OCs tend to buy a lot of spell books and materials for crafting (when you're missing 1 of something!). Aethelfrid gets repairs. I don't often buy gear and only buy potions when I absolutely have to. I sell far more than I buy.

[late-nite-scholar]

For the OC/Creator ask!

21. Why do they get up in the morning? 

29.  Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I'm going to do a my original oc plus a mix of fic ocs, depending on whose answer is best!

Answers under the cut!

21. Why do they get up in the morning?

Original- Evera gets up because she has her men to look after. She also is trying to be the very best at what she does, and works hard at it.

Fic- Besharat gets up for the Companions. They are her family (including her husband, daughters, and brother- and sister-in-law) and she cares deeply about them and being Harbinger. Hunting the strongest and strangest creatures in Tamriel gets Thaeril out of bed (also Ralof).

29. Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

Original- Evera has high standards and ideals for herself. She doesn't always meet them, but she tries.

Fic- Aethelfrid never feels like she lives up to her own ideals. Even after becoming the Hero of Kvatch, she feels like she's never good enough, never to the level that she aspires to be. She tries so hard, and Martin wishes she could see herself as he does, to see that she's not a failure. On the other end of the spectrum, Orielle has high ideals but also a lot of confidence in herself and it able to live up to them much more easily.

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Original- Because Evera has been with me for a very long time and she's grown and changed and become a really fascinating character.

Fic- Azuri and Rilenna because Dunmer are fascinating! Azuri is a fun and different character for me. She's a priestess, not a warrior, and getting into her life and her culture and her destiny is great. Both of their stories revolve a lot around Nerevar (in different ways) and so navigating that gets you some interesting angles. Rilenna is exciting because there's so much there for me to extrapolate. What does it mean for them to be the Nerevarine? What does that look like, how do they deal with that? And, what do they do after? Why do they go to Akavir? It really draws me into thinking about what I think happened at the Battle of Red Mountain and how the winners write the stories. Tamrielic history is full of unreliable narrators and I love that shit so much.

[tes-summer-fest]

[Image: Digital banner that reads "TES FEST 2024. DAY 3 - GHOST." The banner depicts a volcano against a starry sky. The cover of TES 3: Morrowind is visible on the right side of the banner.]

Aug 14 (Day 3)- Ghost/Hungry

Thoughts of the Nerevarine, Rilenna, as they prepare to go up Red Mountain for the final confrontation. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Dunmer Nerevarine who is not Nerevar.  

Warnings- none

Wordcount- ~650

***

I’m haunted by a ghost. I never see him, never hear him. He doesn’t fling things around or write strange messages in blood. But he’s constant, ever-present. He dogs every step and action and word I say.  

I can’t get rid of him. 

The worst part is that he’s taking over my life. I have a mission now, and it’s basically picking up the pieces and cleaning up a mess he left behind. Sorting out the ramifications of things that happened thousands of years ago. They gave me his ring. Now they call me by his name. Everyone does. Even his friends. Even his enemies. My own name is becoming lost, pushed away and forgotten. 

I want to scream at them. I want to grab them by the shoulders and tell them: MY NAME IS RILENNA! But they don’t hear it. All they see is him. To them, I am him, somehow returned after all this time. I’m the one who checks all the boxes for their prophecy, even if they spit at me and call me outlander. N’wah. They like that word. It doesn’t matter that I’m as Dunmer as they are. I’m not from here, so I don’t count. Rilenna is not welcome here. Only Nerevar is. 

The only problem is that I’m not Nerevar. Never was, never will be. I was supposed to think I was, but something fucked up. Even Azura can’t explain exactly what went wrong. So I’m still Rilenna, but now with Nerevar’s memories stuck in my head. Now I can’t get rid of him no matter where I go. The ghost has found himself a home inside my brain. 

Maybe it would’ve been easier. Maybe if I wasn’t so stubborn. I could’ve let go, let his memories take over. I could’ve been the hero, the Nerevar that everyone wants. People would laud me and bow to me and I wouldn’t feel like an impostor. I wouldn’t feel that resentment at being called his name. I’d feel like I knew what I was doing, rather than grasping at straws and hoping I didn’t make things any worse. I wouldn’t look in the mirror, desperately hoping to still see myself reflected back at me, and wanting to smash it every time I feel like there’s some glimpse of him in my face. 

I wish I still knew who I was, what I was. 

I wish I had never taken this ring. 

I wish Azura had chosen someone else. 

I wish the human emperor had sent someone else. 

I wish I’d never come to Morrowind. 

I wish this ghost would stop haunting me. 

I wish I could still just be Rilenna.

But all that’s left now is the mountain, and the figure in the gold mask. He’s waiting for him. He’s going to be disappointed, this Dagoth Ur. Because all he’s going to get is me. He’s waited all this time for someone who’s not coming back. Who sent instead some n’wah Dunmer that doesn’t even know how to be a Dunmer. That’s pretty cold. I won’t blame him for smiting me on the spot. At least then I’d be free of all this. 

I look up at the mountain. It’s time. One way or another, it all ends here. Two souls, trapped by these accursed circumstances, destined to meet beneath the mountain. Destined to fight, betrayed and abandoned by ones that were supposed to love them. I wish I could run, wish we could run. What if we just ran together? What if we left all of this behind, abandoned destiny and prophecy as we’ve been abandoned? 

But we can’t. It’s been too long. The threads of this cursed tapestry are too tightly woven. So I start up the mountain, tools forged by a long-dead people in my hands, to play it out. We have no other choice. Not in this place where destiny is made.