Chapter 2

It was a foggy morning the next day when Freyr came back from his hunting trip. Which was appropriate, because clouded was exactly how Freyr's mind was. Freyr had thought about his time with the strange elf woman all throughout the rest of the previous day, and it wasn't any different for him this morning. Kicking through the gates into the Market District with two deer slumped over the young Nord's back, Freyr mumbled to himself, "Stupid elf woman. What was I thinking? She's an elf! A Dunmer! I hope father didn't take notice of her on the balcony next to me. I don't know what he'd say. Nothing good. And mother…Me, getting chummy with a mer, then getting stood up no less! Stupid, stupid. Well, whatever. Madura…she left, probably just looking to make a fool of me. So it's done."

He wouldn't admit it, but the thought of not seeing the woman again actually saddened him. He found himself having more in common with her then a lot of the Nords of this part of the city. Many of them were just trying to fit in here, and didn't want anything to do with someone like Freyr, a worshiper of the traditional gods, and so thoroughly un-imperialized. Nords like that belonged in Bruma, he'd heard some people say behind his back. Or back in Skyrim with the rest of the uncivilized heathens. Freyr as usual ignored the looks from the early birds in the streets and went straight to his home in the Market district, which was right in front of the only inn in the district. Once Freyr had done his usual skinning and gutting, Freyr made sure not to call up this time to his mother upstairs, but of course she knew he was there anyway, and caught him just as he was about to leave.

"Not so fast, son." Said Sylga just as he put a hand on the door knob. She was wearing a blue and purple shirt and skirt with the sleeves rolled up and an apron to match with golden colored trimmings. She had blonde hair with green eyes. She looked young for her age, which was 40, but she appeared to be thirty two.

"What's the hurry, son? Haven't seen you in practically a day, and you didn't even take the time to wash properly…" Freyr took a look at his hands, and realized she was right. Freyr knew part of why he was in such a rush was to avoid talking about Madura in case his father did notice, but also a part of him wanted to go searching for her, but he didn't realize it at that moment.

"Nothing, I'm just…." Freyr couldn't even think of a good excuse.

"You just…what? Thought you'd mosey on out without explaining why you disobeyed your father when he asked that you stay from the Arena?" Freyr sighed in relief. It seemed his parents hadn't talked about the mer woman after all.

"Yes, I'm sorry. But seriously, you two need to get over it. I'm twenty two. I'll be moving out on my own soon. Even the Imps bring their little children out to see the games. If I choose to follow my father's footsteps, that's my decision. If I die, then I'll rest peacefully in Sovngarde. That's all there is to it. What ever happened to "We Nords don't fear death for our loved ones, we welcome it?" Straight from father's mouth."

"I know." Said Sylga weakly after a moment's pause. Freyr was about to continue his objection, but stopped when he realized she actually agreed for once.

"R-really? No arguing, no calling me ungrateful, or fool hardy, hot blooded or any of that?" he said.

"Nope, none of it. Your father agreed it was well past time we stopped trying to keep you from it. You're a Nord. We'd have failed. Besides, maybe then you can let out some of that aggression and wind up in Imperial prison less, eh?" She said as she ruffled his hair.

"Heh, I doubt it. Not with that guard that's always on my back." Said Freyr.

"Oh you mean K'avar? Your father told me about that asshole. No one likes him. You'll just have to do your best to avoid him."

"Or I can just keep beating him to a pulp until he learns to leave me alone."

"Somehow I doubt that will work, seeing how he always gets the last hit on you when you're locked up and can't move. Just let it go, Freyr."

"Yea whatever." Freyr crossed his arms and grinned arrogantly. "He knows he can't beat me in a fair fight. Who gets the last hit doesn't matter if it isn't on equal grounds. He knows it, we know it, everyone else knows it. So I'm not concerned. Now I gotta get going, ma. Matches are starting up soon." Freyr gave his mother a big bear hug, lifting her off her feet, then plopped her down to take off out the door.

"One more thing before you go…" she said in a low accusing voice. Freyr's stomach dropped as he slowly turned around.

"Yes? What is it?"

"A strange woman came by yesterday while you were out. She said she was looking for you. A Dunmer woman." How did she know I lived here? And why did she come around asking for me? Doesn't she know better than that? "Uh, really? Strange. I don't know any Dunmer woman."

"Really? She knew you pretty well it seemed. And Tolfi said he saw her standing next to you on the balcony. What are you hiding, Freyr?" Sylga narrowed her eyes and further intensified her glare. "If I didn't know any better…."

"Oh, right! The Dunmer woman. She…was asking for hunting lessons. I told her I'd show her for a price. That's all." Freyr wasn't the type that would make a good liar, but luckily for him, his facial expressions were usually stony and stoic, when he wasn't angry that is, so he didn't give off any cues when he lied. Now was no different, and Sylga accepted his tale because of it. After letting out a relieved sigh, Sylga said.

"Whew, okay. That's fine I guess. As long as it's in the day, I don't want you hanging out with a mer at night. Who knows what could happen. For a minute there, I thought you were gonna tell me you two were…you know. I couldn't imagine that." Freyr grew agitated not because his mother didn't like the idea of him with a mer, as that was expected, but because she was intruding again. But he kept it to himself.

"Yea, that would be…" Freyr trailed off at the end. "Anyway, I'm off."

"Ok, and don't forget to wash up properly, son." Freyr was just about to do that when he noticed that mother hadn't mentioned Tolfi's injury…

"Mother…you didn't notice anything when dad came in today? With his arm?"

"No, should I have? What happened?"

"I'll let him tell you. Bye ma." That's what he gets for telling my business.

Freyr had wandered around the Market district for almost an hour after cleaning up, being unsure of what he should do. He already told the Dunmer woman that he visited the Arena daily. If he didn't go, she'd know he was avoiding her. Which he was, partly. He did want to see her again, but her being a Dunmer was still stuck in his head. His parent's reaction to it was the main worry in his head. She didn't frequent the Arena as much as him, but it was clear from what his mother said that she was looking for him. Why, he did not know. She couldn't have been that lonely, as there were other Dunmer in the city, and they weren't all imperialized, from what she told him. Regardless, Freyr figured that he would give the Arena a few hours by burning some time in the Inn. Hopefully then, she won't be there. Freyr knew that he hoped he was wrong.

Freyr made his way back to the direction of his house and walked into the Merchant's Inn, which luckily for him wasn't crowded, seeing as how it was early in the morning. Upon entry, all there was was the barkeep and an old fat and balding Imperial in a corner by himself. Freyr took a seat on the opposite side of the room and waited for the barkeep to come to him. Luckily gold outweighed everything else in this city, which made the Imperial barkeep at least pleasant to deal with when ordering Freyr's drinks. The man didn't have to ask what Freyr wanted. He knew, and not because Freyr was a regular either.

"How many meads, sir?"

"Four tankards full. Thank you." Said Freyr. Once the man brought the drinks, Freyr's mind receded from everything else. This was the one time in the day where Freyr could imagine he was back home in Skyrim. Freyr let himself crack a smile before he closed his eyes and dipped his cup back to let the sweet liquid pass his lips.

"Great mead, isn't it?" Freyr set his tankard back after he downed its contents in a matter of seconds. After wiping his mouth while his eyes were still closed, he sighed, then said.

"Whew, not as good as back home b-" Freyr's eyes shot open in confusion and looked to his left. Sitting next to him was none other than Madura, drinking one of his meads.

"Where the…how did…."

"I'm staying upstairs in this inn for a while. I work at Divine Elegance, and thought it would be easier to just come here so I don't have to walk so far. Good to see you too, Mer-Killer." She said, laughing again at his surname.

"That's quite a coincidence…" said Freyr suspiciously, but not negatively. "My mother told me you were looking for me. How'd you know where I lived?"

"Her shop was the only one that I knew of that sold fresh meat as well as general goods in the Market District. That and it was the newest shop here, so that wasn't very hard to find out. Nice woman, if a bit closed off. But I figure that's because I'm a mer, no? You were that way too. At first. But look at you now…." Freyr didn't notice until she said this, but his eyes were dead set on the cut of her breasts in her velvet corset. Freyr blushed hard, and looked around to see if someone had noticed him looking. A few more patrons had walked in from upstairs, but none were paying attention to the two outsiders in the corner.

"Aww, are you blushing? That's so cute to see from someone so big." Smiling, Madura reached over and pinched Freyr's ear, tugging on it as she did.

"Ow, quit!" he said unconvincingly in the middle of laughing. "My mother used to do that when I was younger."

"I can't blame her, it's hard not to with young people." She said. Freyr raised an eyebrow slightly, thinking about her response.

"Young people? Interesting to say when you are yourself. I mean, I know you're a little older than me, but come on. How old are you, Twenty nine? Thirty two?" He said before drinking another tankard. Madura started to blush very deeply, which for her was quite the accomplishment, given her grey skin, even though it was light colored.

"Aww, quit flattering me, Freyr. Twenty nine, thirty two…no, I'm eighty two." Freyr immediately sprayed all the mead that was in his mouth out in a spout, accidently wetting another customer at a table in front of them. Another Nord like himself. And old grumpy looking man with long greyed hair. Freyr was coughing, trying to repeat the words while Madura was laughing hysterically. The Nord didn't find it nearly as funny however, and was about to get up, but thought better of it with his old age, and just shrugged it off.

"Hahahaha! You should buy that man a drink first before you wet his face! Hahahaha!"

"You-, you're serious? Eighty two?" he said, bewildered.

"Well, yea. I forget you don't know too many elves. Mer tend to have longer life expectancies than men do. I myself come from a family of good standing in Morrowind. Our family usually tends to live up to around two hundred and fifty years. But I'm a mage, so I'll probably go farther than that." Freyr stood silent for a while, staring at her skin, wondering how it was possible. Madura noticed the look in his eyes and saw that this was a hard concept for him to grasp.

"Mer mature slower than men do. So I'd be roughly the equivalent of 35 or so years to a human. Me being a mage also contributes somewhat to my youthful appearance. This…this isn't going to be a problem is it, Freyr?"

"…No, its…it's just going to take some time to get used to it. Is all." Madura smiled deeply now, clearly relieved by the answer.

"So, take some time, eh? That mean you planning on sticking around with me?" Freyr looked up from his tankard to her and stayed quiet for a while, trying to think of what to say. He didn't even think about it, but he realized he did intend to.

"I uh…So, Madura. I was wondering about something. You said that you were feeling alone yourself. Why is that? I know there are other Dunmer in the city and you said that they weren't all imperialized. So why can't you stick with them?" Now it was Madura's turn to stay quiet. She turned her dark red eyes from Freyr for a while, staring into the room, but not looking at it. It was a look that let Freyr see some of the long years in her that her skin couldn't reveal. Madura snapped out of her melancholic reminiscing when she noticed Freyr's curious worried look from the corner of her eye and quickly scooted over to him and put one of her legs over his.

"Perhaps that is something I can tell you when I get to know you better…" she said as she rubbed her leg on his. More people had started to come into the Inn, some people that Freyr noticed from his mother's shop, and Madura's flirting caused him to jump in his chair from embarrassment. Madura noticed his look of shame, and it made her feel rejected, unwanted. This embarrassed her in turn, and made her start to get defensive.

"Madura, stop. Someone may…."

"What? Someone may see? Worried that someone's gonna go tell your mother, Mer-Killer?" she said angrily, which caused a few heads to turn in the Inn. Freyr put his hand over his face and turned to Madura.

"No, it's not…I mean…"

"Humph! Let's get one thing straight. I'm not going to bother with you if you're going to let my race bother you. I only gave someone as young as you the time of day because I thought you had the mind of a man, not a boy." Freyr started to grow a little annoyed now, even a little angry at his manhood being challenged by an elf.

"I am a man. I am." He said.

"Humph. Could have fooled me." She removed her leg from his now from under the table. "Like I said, I don't want to have anything to do with you if you can't even flirt with me in public. I'm not some secret whore you can hide in your closet when you need me."

"Would you try and look at it from my perspective? You don't live with your parents. You don't have to worry about what they think. Y-"

"You're twenty two, Freyr, twenty two! That's young to me, but not that young. Who you choose to see is none of their damn business!"

"I know, it's just-"

"What? We're just sharing each other's company. It's not like I asked for your kid!"

"Shh! Lower your voice!" he said, placing his finger over his mouth.

"See!? You're not a man. You're a boy. A little, tiny wet behind the ears, scared momma's b-"Freyr finally had enough. If there was one thing that he couldn't resist, it was a challenge to prove his manhood. Freyr grabbed Madura by her arms and picked her up, placing her on his lap before pressing his lips to hers until her head was laying on the table now. At first she was put off because she was still angry at him, but she got over it quick, letting her back arch over his hand and letting his other arm cradle her head as the two were lip locked. This after all was a part of her plan. Freyr felt himself stirring as he felt her tongue slip in his mouth.

The taste of sweet mead on her lips didn't hurt things either, making him suck softly at them as she did the same. Freyr and Madura started really getting into it, massaging each other's tongue as they worked their lips together, occasionally breaking off to take a breath. Freyr was nervous as hell that word was going to get out to his mother. He knew very well that Imperials liked to gossip, because he could hear it all day in the streets, but right now his body was in control, and he was powerless to stop. Besides, Madura had her arms locked around his neck. He wasn't going anywhere for a while. Eventually the two started to become more and more aware of the murmuring in the Inn, and they broke off. Madura sat up in his lap, blushing once again as she cleared her throat.

"Well…I may have been wrong about you, Mer-Killer."

"This is so strange. We just met." He said, slightly grinning.

"I know. But life's too short for you to worry about such things." She said in a thoughtfully sorrowful tone. Madura looked behind her to some of the staring faces in the Inn, and then quickly turned back to Freyr. "So what now?"

"Well, I told ma I was taking you to learn to hunt. And you said you wanted to learn. Want to come with me?"

Madura put her right hand on his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. "Sounds like fun. Let's get out of here." Freyr wasted no time getting out of the Inn. After Freyr went and got his pack filled with hunting gear and a bedroll, Freyr ran his way towards the outside gates with Madura right behind him. Very right behind him, as she managed to catch up to him and jump on his back. She was laughing the whole time, as she hadn't been this happy in quite some time.