User:JohnB/Fanfiction/The Ice Woman

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Long ago, when rumors first went around that the Imperials had struck ebony in Raven Rock and would establish a mining town there, Karl Farseer formulated a plan of his own; however, his father took a very dim view of it. As Karl described it to him, the outlanders may have found a good ebony deposit, but they could do much better prospecting in the Moesring Mountains, which was shunned by outlanders for good reason. If a hurricane-force blizzard wasn't blowing at any particular moment, it would soon, and the mountains are not the place to be when that happens.

Karl was making no empty claims, however. In the warm season when the streams in the foothills of the Moesring Mountains gushed with runoff, Karl would make camp and ply his two-handled cooking pan to scoop up sand and swish it around to eject the regular sand until a bluish layer of ebony sand remained at the bottom of the pan. He then spooned it into a cloth sack, and when the water had dripped out leaving the sack full of a sort of ebony clay, he made his way to the East Empire Company to sell it. Ebony sand was highly prized because it melted more quickly in the smelter oven. Ebony clumps had to be broken up before melting, which added one layer of processing that ebony sand didn't require.

(The Arizona Historical Society in Tucson has a steam-powered jackhammer as tall as a two-story house that was used to bash boulders of copper ore into gravel, something the backward folk of Tamriel did not have.)

Where that ebony sand came from was a no-brainer, but it was his best-kept secret to prevent an Ebony Rush in Solsteim.

His father disapproved of the outlanders intruding on their land and laying waste to it. However, almost with the same breath, he would bemoan the lack of opportunities for older men such as himself to make a living. When it came to retiring from one career and taking up a less strenuous one, there was basically nothing in Solsteim--no agriculture, no shops, no entertainment--nothing. Karl reminded him that he couldn't have it both ways. If he really wanted the good things in life, then he had to get in line for the march of progress.

His father heard him out as he outlined his plan. The two of them would trek into the Moesring Mountain with a pack animal loaded with supplies and digging tools. If they found nothing, they would head home with enough provisions to get back without starving along the way. If they struck a bonanza, they would stake their claim and return immediately to the East Empire Company at Fort Frostmoth to register their claim and negotiate a deal to sell for a certain amount plus a percentage of the profits.

His father admitted it sounded very good, but he couldn't accept the accumulation of slag piling up on the slopes of the forbidding but majestic Moesring Mountains.

"Well, Father, if you're serious about making Solsteim more livable, you've got to accept some environmental degradation."

The old man acceded to his son, and in due time they were dodging Riekling Riders and Berzerkers as they made their way up and into the mountains. The ground surface was all snow and ice, so what they needed was a cave where they could see what can be found underneath the ground.

And the first cave they came to held the jackpot. Not clumps of ebony here and there but thick seams of it in the walls and boulders lying about. There was no need to go on searching, so they built a fire with kindling they'd brought along and prepared a good hotpot for dinner. His father also brought out a jug of his home-distilled "Isenfier Joy Juice" to keep their circulatory systems going in the bitter cold.

They still had to keep the fire stoked during the night. The cave wasn't drafty, but it was cold even with their thick bedrolls. They hadn't discussed how this was going to be managed, so they agreed that if either of them woke feeling cold, he would toss another log or two onto the fire.

It was still dark as Karl sat up shaking with cold and was about to take another log to put on the dying embers. There was a shimmer of light coming into the cave. Karl watched with trepidation.

A young woman approached, an astonishingly beautiful woman, a chillingly beautiful woman. Her hair was like platinum, her skin a pale blue, and her lips were the color of lavender. Her robe scintillated like hoarfrost in the winter sun. She considered Karl for a moment.

"No. Too young," she said ominously.

She turned and approached his father. She knelt to get closer to him, and she blew a stream of mist at him. She rose and turned to Karl again.

"Don't you dare tell of this to anybody if you don't want the same to happen to you," she said slowly in a low menacing voice.

When it was dark again but for the embers, Karl arose and approached his father.

"Father?" he said shaking him by the shoulder.

He put the back of his hand on the old man's face and yanked it away when he felt how cold it felt, deathly cold.

When he presented himself at the East Empire Company lugging a nearly boulder-sized chunk of ebony, Carnius Magius, the Factor there, was eager to talk business immediately. The terms they hammered out were very good for both parties, and as soon as the ink was dry on the contract, Karl moved to the city of Mournhold, "city of light, city of magic" where every day is "another perfect day". There he bought the vacant manor in Godsreach and settled down to a life of ease.

However, a life of ease by one's lonesome self can get pretty burdensome when one hasn't yet accustomed oneself to nights on the town in the Great Bazaar. Karl was accustomed to keeping his father company, but Carnius Magius saw to it that his body was brought down from the mountains and given a proper burial with Karl in attendance. Karl didn't realize how much he would miss the old man. He decided to hire a live-in housekeeper to do the chores and keep up a lively conversation now and then.

The young woman sent by the agency didn't have the same hair color or skin tone, but Karl somehow saw in her the murderer of his father. He put the idea out of his mind because her sweet chipper voice was so unlike the growly voice he'd heard in the cave. He offered to hire her on the condition that if anything seemed not right about her, he would order a replacement from the agency. She tipped her head to the side.

"Not right? In what way?"

"Oh, I don't know," he responded awkwardly. "You see, I just came into some money and have never had the experience of hiring a housekeeper. Who knows what could happen? Silverware could go missing and...and..."

"Well, rest assured, Serjo, that I come with a letter of recommendation from my previous employer."

Karl read the letter.

"This looks good, but kind of stiff in its language."

"Oh, I promised not to have him blacklisted if he wrote me a decent one. But he didn't want it to sound too nice."

"Blacklisted?" Karl asked cocking his ear. "What for?"

"The hand that went into my blouse. You see, Serjo, it's not always the hired help who 'isn't right'."

"Indeed! Well, in that case, you're hired!"

"Thank you, Serjo! When shall I start?"

"As soon as you've moved in and made yourself comfortable in the servant's room."

Having another body in the house really was more than just satisfactory. He craved her attention, and--strangely--she craved his as well. However, he never inquired into her personal circumstances because he knew it was unseemly to pry into an employee's affairs where it was unnecessary. Still, he wondered why she was so accommodating and never seemed bored of his rambling reminiscences about life in Solsteim because, to tell the truth, they really were boring.

And so their time together passed very pleasantly. He was by nature very simple in his lifestyle and so didn't go out on the town as often as some people do. So with this constant attention between the two, something was bound to happen. One evening as they sat talking together, she took his hand into hers and wouldn't let go. At first, he felt uncomfortable that his employee was doing something not very far from the faux pas committed by her former employer. The act wasn't as invasive, but the intent was the same. She also seemed to become more curious about his secret thoughts.

"What did you think when you first met me?" she suddenly asked one evening.

That hadn't been so long ago, so bald-faced lying was out of the question.

"You were so radiant! Honestly! I had never seen such a beautiful woman in all Morrowind." He was referring to the first time he set eyes on her in the cave, not when he suspected her of murder.

"But what did you think?"

"Nothing. My mind went blank. I was speechless."

"Why?" she asked bluntly.

"This person is a maid?" he responded just as bluntly.

She could see she was starting to get suspicious, so she let it drop. But she continued to be very accommodating to him, to the point where they were expecting their first child, the first of three in quick succession, which necessitated a visit to a Shrine of Dibella to swear their troth to each other.

That unfortunate cross-examination was eventually forgotten, and life together with their three bambini was like heaven on earth. However, deep thought is the killer of happiness. If she was not the same person who entered that cave, he could rest assured. He decided then and there to find out.

"You know," he said nonchalantly as she sat nearby crocheting booties for the most recent newborn, "you actually remind me of somebody I once met."

"Oh? Who?" she asked only half-hearing what had been said.

"I was camping with my father in Moesring Mountains when..."

She dropped the booties and glared at him.

"What did I tell you then?" she asked in the low menacing voice.

"Then...it...it was you who killed my father!"

"I'd do the same to you now. For the sake of my three babies, I will spare you! Take good care of them! And farewell!"

She vanished.

"Goodbye," he responded, "and...uh...good riddance!"