Shinbira: Journal of a Survivor, Chapter 24

• Posted by Idesto July 13, 2015 - 1,131 views

  Last Seed 22nd: Riverwood - Whiterun

  Well, this is awkward.

  Faendal and I are doing our best to be as masculine as we can. We'd talk about girls: their merits, their assets, our conquests, etc., the way young Mer do, but both of us seem only to be able to think of one girl.

  Camilla.

  Or 'Milly', as I like to call her.

  Faendal saw me kiss her cheek in her shop, and heard me say her name as I awoke in his bed, and maybe also in my sleep. He's not happy about either of those things, or that we also awoke in - a 'manly embrace'.

  Finally I break the silence.

  "Faendal, brother?"    

  "Yes?"

  Taciturn, no "brother". He's definitely angry with me.

  "Yesterday, in the shop..." 

  This is hard

  "Yes, what about it?"

  "I'm..."

  "Yes, Shinbira? You're....?"

  "Sorry! I'm sorry."

  "Sorry? You? Sorry?!"

  "Yes."

  "I think I must still be in bed - my bed - dreaming. Did I just hear you say 'sorry'?"

  "Yes, you did - and don't rub it in."

  "Sorry? Hah! And I thought that massive Draugr was unbelievable: this beats everything!

  "So: you said something about 'in the shop'?"

  "Yes. You know, with Camilla..."

  "Camilla? Or 'Milly': she likes me to call her that, you know. What about her?"

  Gods: he's really making the most of this!

  "You know, Faendal! I was annoyed, and I went a little too far. It seemed funny at the time."

  And it really was!

  "You did something funny with Milly? She likes a 'joke', Shinbira; I'm sure she didn't mind."

  Did he just stress the word 'joke'? He'd better not mean me!

  "Still, I don't know what you have to apologise for. Was it one of your crude jokes?"

  "You're really enjoying this, aren't you Faendal?"

  "I don't know what you mean, brother. But I accept your apology. Shall we go?"

  "Yes, I think we should, Faendal."

  After a quick breakfast we take our packs and leave. Faendal seems in a hurry and runs outside ahead of me.

  Looking back as I shut the door, I notice something glinting in the morning sunlight. Curious! Going back inside to investigate, I see it.

  Under the bed: a pair of dainty little shoes....

  -------------------------------------------------------------

  We decide to go to straight to Whiterun without delay. As we go past the shop though I can't help but look to see if she's there. I notice Faendal scowling and walk quickly on.

  The walk to Whiterun is uneventful; the sunlight glinting through the trees, the fresh mountain air, the breeze on our faces clear our heads and sooth our tempers. 

  We pass the now-familiar landmarks of the city: Warmaiden's with Adrienne working away at the forge, the empty house, Belethor's General Goods, children running along the streets, the hubbub of the market, the Bannered Mare.

  At the market I turn to Faendal to say: "Wait here, please; there's something I need to do."

  The poor Mer is confused. "Without me? We've done everything together so far."

  "We're not married!" I reply, then immediately regret it as a nightmarish flashback of his smelly, hairy neck suddenly strikes me with nausea.

  Recovering quickly I tell him "This is grown-up work, Faendal: you wouldn't approve. I won't be long."

  "As you wish" he says, with a sigh of resignation.

  I'm looking for someone, and it doesn't take me long to find him.

  "Shibb... Shizn... Elfy: My favourite drinking buddy!"

  Silly old drunk

  "How are you my friend?" I say, "How was that Argonian Ale?"

  "It was great! Got any more?"

  "I'll see what I can do, Brenuin", I lie. "First 'though , I need to you to tell me something."

  We talk in whispers, then I leave with a smile. Beckoning Faendal to follow I walk up some steps off to the left to a house there. Just before the door I stop and say to him "I think you'd better wait for me here, Faendal."

  In other words: "Stand guard"

  I've remembered that I have the key that I liberated from the well-dressed man we passed on our last visit here, & Brenuin has helpfully told me his address.

  Making myself as small as I can and looking around just to be sure, I turn the key in the door's lock. It clicks, and opens!

  The house is a nice one - but sparsely furnished. For a man who's so fond of boasting about how rich he is he doesn't seem to have much! He's either lying, or his wealth is elsewhere. Still, there's enough to keep me happy: ale, wine, food, treats, and good quality kitchenware. I quickly stuff my pack!

  Good old Faendal is still there in his spot, waiting: "Finished? Shall we go now?" 

  The look of disapproval & resigned indignation on Faendal's face is wonderful!

  "Yes, Feandal, thank you. Let's go see our friend the Jarl, shall we?"

  I wonder how many people have had an audience with a Jarl carrying a bag full of stolen loot? I walk on with a smile.

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