A.D.W.D. Chapter 26: The Winking Skeever

• Posted by Exuro May 21, 2016 - Filed in TSC: CB Story - #Exuro  #A.D.W.D.  - 1,435 views

   

   

  “A thief?!” Falk exclaimed. “Guards! Seize them at once!”

   

  Three guards appeared as if from thin air, one on each of Trebonde’s arms and the last pinning Amari’s wrists behind her back. Her captor seemed afraid of bruising her and kept a loose grip. She smiled to herself; she could easily break free and reach her dagger…

   

  “No, unhand him,” the Dragonborn interrupted. “He has already paid for the crime.”

   

  This close, Amari could see the scars crisscrossing the barrel-chested Nord in detail. Teeth, claws, slashes, and burns all culminated into a map of a life at constant war. While none would say he lacked passion or energy, the stress was clear in the worn creases about his eyes and graying hair. She recognized the scar tissue as the type formed from using restoration magic too rapidly; the ones she saw must have only been the ones healed mid-battle.  How he survived to even begin healing some of those wounds was beyond her, especially the one that started above the left eye, snaked behind his ear, then ended on the right side of his throat. She didn’t even know what type of weapon could do that! Such a strike should have bled him out in seconds!

   

  A half manic laugh slipped out. The Captain had fought so hard against this man, but even had any of the bandits landed a fatal blow, it would not have stopped this one!

   

  The Dragonborn snapped his gaze to her at the sound. “You… seem familiar as well.”

   

  Amari shut her mouth and gulped. The legend stared through her with piercing eyes the color of ice and stroked his rough beard.

   

  “Laas,” he hissed again and the power of his Voice washed across her, through her. “Ah! I remember. It was you I sensed before Stinfelniirspaan landed.”

   

  The Word ‘Laas’ brought on a flashback of her cowering behind a stack of barrels in the eye of a storm, hobbled by an arrow. It was scene from Oblivion, created by this man the court so readily welcomed. With that word, he had known exactly where she was and approached with blood still fresh on his sword. She was still scared, but that would no longer make her cower.

   

  The corner of Sul’s mouth twitched in a smile of admiration. The will to conquer your fears was a battle he was far too familiar with. He knew how he must seem to her, but he doubted the truth would help. He spoke such that only she would hear his words:

   

  “You are an interesting one; neither fully bound to this realm or the next. Tread carefully in the lands few have gone; many who have are now forever lost. We are only free while between.”

   

   “That was real?”

   

  Her nightmare in Karthwasten resurfaced: the harrowing run across sands shifting through a sea pure emptiness. A journey that ended with seeing her mother...

   

  “Is thought real?”

   

   He nodded, coming to a decision while Amari puzzled over the words, then he addressed Elisif, “I will go to Markarth.”

   

  The court released a collective sigh of relief.

   

  “But! Only to break any hold the Daedra have claimed. Whoever rules what remains is not my concern. I do not fight to decide the future, only to ensure there is one.”

   

  “We would ask no more of you. Thank you Sul,” Elisif said from the bottom of her heart.

   

  “Under sun and sky, Elisif.” Sul nodded to the Jarl and retrieved the hen from Bolgeir before dismissing himself.

   

  Once she was sure the Dragonborn had left the palace, Elisif collapsed into her throne and the court broke out in a nervous laughter.

   

  “Such raw and wild power; not even the gods could tame him! Like the very spirit of Skyrim!” Elisif spoke while fanning herself, then beamed at Amari.

   

  “I don’t know what you said; I don’t care, but you managed to sway Sul! We should have a parade!”

   

  Truthfully, Amari didn’t know what had cemented his decision either.

   

  The Jarl caught her steward glaring at her. “Oh, I know, but I will have my parade one day! Anyway, I believe they have earned a reward. They have done a great service to Skyrim.”

   

  Falk relented and parceled out a bag of coins that felt a bit light to Trebonde for ‘a great service to Skyrim.’ Amari felt guilty about accepting the money since they did start the fall of Markarth in a way, but not enough to deny the money.  

   

  “You are most gracious Jarl Elisif the Fair,” Trebonde started. “But if you may, I have a small favor to ask.”

   

  “Yes, of course,” she allowed, curious.

   

  “What is your opinion of this fine dress?” Trebonde motioned towards Amari and all eyes turned towards the girl. Amari couldn’t help blushing under the attention and tried to will herself invisible.

   

  The Jarl took a critical eye to Amari, then after moment said, “I wasn’t expecting fashion at a time like this, but it’s quite fetching actually. The craftsmanship is excellent.”

   

  Amari beamed under the praise, but still tried to hide her blushing. It was easier to face the Dragonborn!

   

  “Thank you, Taarie will be most pleased to hear that.”

   

  “Oh, from the Radiant Raiment? You can tell her I’ll be putting in a request for a few dresses quite soon as well.”

   

  The two were dismissed free of chains and with all their limbs still intact. As they left the throne room, they overheard Elisif ask the court, “So, where did that chicken come from?”

   

  They walked in silence until the Blue Palace was far behind them and they were lost amid the city crowds, then they both released all their tension in an explosive sigh.

   

  “That… did not go as expected,” Trebonde understated. “I need a drink or ten.”

   

   ***

   

   The rogue and young witch walked into the Winking Skeever carrying a sack of books and another sack of coins from the Radiant Raiment to add to the Jarl’s reward.

   

  Trebonde weighed their two bags of reward gold in his hand and gauntlet. “I think Taarie paid us more; typical court scrooges.”

   

  He tossed Amari one of the coin bags and made a beeline towards the bar. Amari caught it and stared at it, frozen in place; she’d never had her own money before! This was hers and she didn’t need anyone’s permission to use it! Amari hurried after Trebonde before the crowd completely swallowed Trebonde from sight.

   

  As she caught up, she heard him muttering to himself. “Pretentious prick, ‘He has already paid for his crime.’ I’ll show how I paid for it by shoving this stump up his— oh, hey Kaera!”  

   

  The name still sounded foreign on her ears.

   

  “Talking to yourself, Valus?”

   

  “It’s a cathartic form of meditation,” Trebonde said, grasping the first excuse that came to mind.

   

  Amari rolled her eyes behind him while he soldiered on to the bar. He shouldered some guy who already had a drink out of the way and stopped the sod’s protest with the stare of a killer. The two travelers filled the new opening and sat on the barstools of the prime counter space with euphoric sighs.

   

  “What’ll be?” The bartender asked.

   

  Trebonde didn’t open his eyes to respond. “A shot and a beer, and keep them comin’.”

   

  “Right up!” The bartender put a mug under the tap, then stopped. “Wait, what type?”

   

  “I don’t care, as long as they don’t stop flowing!”

   

  “One of those days, eh?”

   

  “You have no idea…”

   

  A child popped her head over the counter.

   

  “He looks like he needs the Old Gold 205 and the Yoku Firewater.”

   

  “Ah, now that is a strong pairing my girl!” the bartender said, then slid the drinks across the bar. Trebonde downed them both in one go.

   

  He coughed once and shook his head. “Damn! That kicks… It’s perfect!”

   

  “I’m Minette and one day I’ll run this bar!” the girl proclaimed to all who would listen.

   

  “She already does…” the bartender said with a growl. The girl only beamed at them in response, then disappeared into the backrooms.

   

  “What about you miss?” he asked Amari while refilling Trebonde’s drinks.

   

  “Um…”

   

  Another person with mutton chops! But these were connected with a mustache and red. Ainethach’s end had been red, very red.  

   

  “Do you have mulled wine?” she asked remembering the drink Ainethach’s mother, Tellevi, had made.

   

  “Mulled wine? Still a bit earlier for a Harvest drink, isn’t it?”

   

  “Oh…”

   

  “Ahh, a drink is a drink!”

   

  He called out Amari’s order to his son who was manning a brick oven at the center of the inn. Minette was soon at her older brother’s elbow mimicking the orders while the brother in turn played along with her role. Trebonde added two bowls of their heartiest stew to the order and rented the Inn’s two finest rooms.

   

  At first they didn’t speak; content to lean back and take in the sights and noise of the evening crowd as they waited for their food. Everyone was still buzzing about seeing a dragon walk through the streets and hearing the Windcaller’s Thu’um. Excitement, fear, and awe filled the air in equal portions.

   

  Trebonde caught another shot sliding towards him. He stopped midway to downing it and with a sly grin offered Amari a taste. She tentatively sipped the firewater and immediately started coughing and sputtering.

   

  “How can you drink that?!”

   

  He only laughed and finished it off before she could spill it. “It’s an acquired taste.”

   

  With all the talk of dragons floating about, her mind kept returning to the Jarl’s court. “Do you think we should have warned him about what’s waiting in Markarth?”

   

  “No. That bastard will be fine.”

   

  “He said something strange to me—“

   

  “Kaera, can we please not talk about the Dragonborn? Or dragons or Daedra or fanatics? One day without any of those things couldn’t sound any better right now.”

   

  Amari looked down at her lap and swung her legs off the stool. Their stews and her wine mercifully arrived then and hunger took over all thought.

   

  After they started feeling full, Trebonde asked before downing a shot, “So where exac’ly are ya from? Somewhere in High Rock right?”

   

  “I don’t want to talk about that. How about you?”

   

  “Defini’ely don’t wanna talk about that,” he said with his voice beginning to slur.

   

  The awkward silence returned again. Both were at a loss of what to say now that nothing was trying to kill them. 

   

  Trebonde threw back another beer and then pushed himself up off the stool, his gauntlet echoing hollowly on the counter. “Well, I’m gonna go to the pisser.”

   

  “You’re nasty!”

   

  He flapped his gauntlet at her in reply as she watched him walk away.

   

  ***

   

  His steps to towards the far end of the inn had been mostly straight, though he never came back. Amari took a long dreg from her mulled wine and slammed it down. Instead, he’d left her alone at the bar to go off with some tall blond. Not that she cared. He could do what he wanted, but he could do much better than her.

   

  Amari had quickly noticed while observing the inn that the people here seemed… soft. They hid in the safety of their walls and were blind to the rest of the world. The panic caused by the dragon’s stroll only drove home how fragile these people really were.

   

  One such young man began casually walking in her general direction, but obviously with her as the goal. What did he want? His eyes lacked the coldness of one of Molag Bal’s followers, but that could be an illusion; Boethiah and Hermaus Mora were both deceitful types. Maybe he was with the Vigil of Stendarr or the guards; maybe another bandit. No, this one wasn’t built like a fighter. She could bury her dagger in his soft belly and slip out the door before his body hit the ground if need be. Their eyes met briefly and his smile never fully formed before he abruptly turned in the opposite direction.

   

  She lifted her mug to only see the bottom of the cup. Amari set it down heavily and sighed; she was still alone.

   

  “Hey take it easy on the patrons! Or at least wait until after they buy a drink!”

   

  Amari looked up at the bartender, not understanding. He smiled back her to show he wasn’t actually angry and started polishing the counter clean during the lull.

   

  “Corpulus Vinius is the name,” he proudly announced, “and I can spot boy troubles from a mile away!”

   

  “I don’t have ‘boy troubles.’”

   

  “My whiskers rarely lie, but how about a name first?”

   

  “Am—“ She already almost blew their cover! She cleared her throat and covered with: “I am Kaera.”

   

  “Lovely name. So, what has that pretty face troubled then?”

   

  He refilled her mug with a warning: “Take this one slow now, no good will come of trying to keep up with your friend.”

   

  She felt her face flush and hid behind the drink.

   

  “Ah hah! I was right! So you like the older guys, hmm?” He leaned forward and teased her with a wink.

   

  She gave him an onceover and scrunched her face up. “Ew! Especially not with those muttonchops!”

   

  He straightened in mock indignation and stroked his precious chops. “Well, that’s a deal breaker right there! The chops stay!”

   

  Amri giggled, then sipped on the spiced wine. “It’s just we’ve been through Oblivion together. No one else knows him like I do…”

   

   “Ooh, sounds like a juicy story.”

   

  Amari felt her defense shoot up and her mind go cold.

   

  He’s a clever one. Tell him nothing. He may know too much already…

   

  “Hey! Don’t turn that look on me too! I’m only looking for material to fill my rumor mill.” He softened his voice and said, “Not everyone is out to get you, girl. I hear tales of all the horrors across the land, but to block everyone out is to live a lonely life. Sometimes you need to take a chance.”

   

  “Sorry, I…” Amari’s words drifted off as she warmed her hands around her mug.

   

  Corpulus squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

   

  “Don’t worry; this is why I’m here. I serve drinks, but people are my trade. Sounds like you and your friend have a strong bond. One thing I’ve noticed about others I’ve seen like him is that they are… casual with their partners. Those girls don’t get that type of connection. I’ll bet you that he’s afraid of losing that with you; it’d be like losing a family member.”

   

  Amari looked up from her mug and asked, “Family?”

   

  The bartender nodded. “So, which is more important to you?”

   

  It felt like a weight she wasn’t aware of was lifted from her shoulders and she smiled up at Corpulus. “Thank you.”

   

  “Bah!” It was his turn to have his cheeks flush. “Enough of that sappy stuff! How about I tell you some stories? The locals have heard them all so often they run off at the first line!”

   

  “That sounds amazing.” She pulled the stool in closer and propped her elbows on the bar, ready to just listen for a long time.

   

  ***

   

  She lay splayed before Valus, smooth flesh eagerly awaiting his touch. With measured caresses and bites, he followed the curves of her body, from thigh to throat. Her body arched against him with pleading moans, but he resisted the urge to skip his torments. At her neck, he pulled her to him with a firm grip of hair only to find the demonic visage of Molag Bal staring back.

   

  He dropped the woman’s head and leapt back in horror as the Daedra released its chilling laugh.

   

  “You are still trying to change who you are? Yet here you are again. No amount of names or faces will ever fill the void of your worthless existence.”

   

  “What?!” The woman—he realized he didn’t even know her name—propped her elbows up, clearly frustrated he stopped.

   

  Valus looked in confusion at the completely normal woman before him, then collapsed onto the bed next to her.

   

  “Go. Just go.”

   

  “Seriously?” He waved a dismissing hand at her. She snorted and pulled her clothes back on in abrupt motions. “Bloody drunks…”

   

  He stared at the ceiling for a long time after she stormed out; what was he doing with his life?

   

  At some point it became clear sleep wouldn’t come, so he grabbed the last remaining alcohol in the room, a digestif, and left the room. The honeyed liqueur was a desperate attempt to delay the hangover he could already feel forming.

   

  Kaera had already beaten him to the hallway. She was sitting at the foot of her door watching the flames of a candle with a book open on her lap.

   

  “Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked.

   

  She nodded. “Nightmare; always nightmares.”

   

  He slid down the wall next to her. “Yea, they never go away.”

   

  “Wonderful.”

   

  “What are you reading?”

   

  “No idea, I can’t focus on the words.”

   

  “Wine will do that.” He laughed, then was reminded of his bottle. It was weak and way too sweet, but that didn’t stop him.

   

  He offered Kaera the bottle and she took a few sips before passing it back.

   

  “Trebonde?” she asked.

   

  “Valus, even now. You’re still thinking in our old names aren’t you?” Kaera nodded guiltily. “To be believable, the names need to become a part of you; we need to be Valus and Kaera even in your thoughts.”

   

  “But Trebonde is who I know you as! I don’t know if I can…”

   

  “You already have once.” He flashed a grin at her, but the nuances shifted. There was a more challenging and seedy air to it than the one he used as Trebonde.

   

  “Silver!” Kaera said, remembering when he was still a part of the bandits’ clan. “But that was different!”

   

  “Only the circumstances.”

   

  Kaera frowned, wondering how that was supposed to disprove her, then shrugged and continued on with her original question:

   

  “Do you have any family left?”

   

  Valus stared down the inn’s hall for a long time before responding.

   

  “No. All dead or gone. Really, you’re the closest I’ve had in a very long time.”

   

  Kaera broke into a huge smile and curled up next to him, finally finding sleep. She used his thigh as a pillow and he rested his hand around her head.

   

  Is this what it would be like to be a father? The thought shocked him. Where did it come from? He’d never even considered the possibility before. Maybe not a father, but this did feel right. They were family.

   

   

  

   

   

   

   

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