Chapter II – The Brothers Stone-Fist
The second round of drinks was laid on the table; two tankards of nordic mead. Lief clutched the grip and immediately consumed two mouthfuls of the strong liquid. He belched loudly and folded his arms across the wooden tabletop. "I'm telling ya, you've met Lifa you just don't remember her."
Erik grinned and merely sipped up some of the liquid in fairly rapid doses. "Yeah but I don't-"
"Remember a lot of people here?" They both cackled like overgrown schoolchildren, the dramatic irony being that those were the exact words Erik was going to utter. The younger brother hammered down yet more of the mead and then quickly set it down, crossing his legs and sitting back. "Lifa and I go way back. I didn't start courting her until around two years ago, but still... she lived in town." He leaned back even farther, attempting to become more relaxed. "So what is it that you do nowadays, my dim witted older brother?"
Erik set down his tankard, and readied his hands for conversational gestures. "I-" He stopped there, his mouth and hands freezing in place. It was evident he was in deep thought, as his diminutive nord eyes pranced about in their sockets. He was not aware if Lief had paid attention to his scars yet, or if he just withheld his knowledge of their presence. The little brother merely looked at the older, his eyes only breaking to check to see if the mead was still in the tankard. For good measure, he grabbed the handle and and swirled the honey liquor around inside the metal mug.
"I'm a financial adjuster." Erik spoke. "Financial ambassador, if you'd fancy." He then lifted the tankard and swallowed an obscene amount of the mead inside it, his esophagus burning as it nearly went down the wrong way. He coughed in a reflexive manner.
Lief smiled. "Ah, so you-" He paused, his amber eyes squinting in a myriad of methods. "Um... what do you do in this trade of yours?"
"Well, I do the robust majority of my work for House Hlaalu here in Morrowind."
"That local noble family?" He chuckled. "What are you doing working for these dark elves-"
"Dunmer is the proper term, Lief." Erik calmly objected.
"Right. Dunmer. You came here working for dunmer and that was the reason we haven't seen you all these years?"
"It's only recently I've been doing work here in Morrowind." Erik held his tankard up and leaned it against his lower lip, his intentions cycling through whether or not he should take another drink or continue speaking. He finally set it down and rest his elbows on the table, cupping his hands together. "In my job I... settle monetary disputes between two parties. If someone owes somebody money, and doesn't pay, well, I... negotiate with them and settle the dispute. I mostly worked in Cyrodiil for a while, the heart of the Empire. The Hlaalus just happened to have a position here and... well they paid a lot more than my previous employers."
"You certainly are dressed to pursue diplomatic endeavors." Lief laughed, noting his brother's leather armor. The two of them sat and wordlessly drank the honey ales from their vessels, until another round of drinks was ordered. It was not a lengthy amount of time afterward until some other family members saw the future groom sitting and drinking at the table with a familiar looking stranger.
Erik's younger sister, Freyja stood over him, her hands on her signature pointy hips. Her brown hair was no longer tied in braids as Erik had remembered, but was fashioned into a simple ponytail. "Oh by the Gods..." Her voice sounding as hardy and angry as it always had been. She bit on her fingernails. "Where - has this sack of hairy grizzly-bear shit been?"
"He's been around." Lief replied with a smirk. His booted feet were placed atop the table, as if the mead had deep seated itself into his conscience. "Just not around with us."
Erik stood up and held his arms out as if to embrace. "Been a while sis." He smiled gingerly. "How have you been doing nowada-"
Freyja responded with a hay-maker to her brother's eye. He was caught completely off guard, and his arms flailed, his legs buckled, and his rump uncomfortably landed in the chair he had sat in before. Only this time his legs and back were wedged in the armrests. It took a few good seconds of flailing about until he broke free from the wooden jaws of his seat. Freyja had already walked away sobbing, and Lief was failing at trying to contain his laughter.
"Women." Lief shook his head. "They sure are a lot more complicated than men, especially when the blood that runs in their veins is the same as ours."
"A lot more complicated than I remember." Erik massaged his left eye socket with his fingertips and positioned himself back in the chair once he turned it upright. Immediately afterward a man with brown cropped hair and strangely shaped eyebrows made his way to Erik. A boy who looked no older than eight followed and curiously eyed the spectacle.
"I'm sorry, what was that all about?" The patron asked in a confronting tone.
"She was just being my sister." Was Erik's nonbelligerent retort, and the mead tankard immediately went to his lips.
The man's prose shifted. "Oh... I..." He stood up straight and suddenly chuckled and smacked his own forehead. "I uh- sorry. I'm Freyja's husband. I don't think we've been introduced. I uh-" His head turned back and eyed the path which his spouse had tread after storming away from her brother. Without a word he walked off, as if hoping to find her. Erik looked at the boy, who merely shrugged in response and followed him.
"Well, that was peculiar. Anyway, thanks for not doing what she did, Lief." Erik piped.
"I was a rat toe's length away from it, but I digressed at the last second. She'll get over it too, just give it time." The younger brother sat up when he saw his pride and joy, Lifa detach from the crowd and walk toward him. "Erik, I'd like you to meet my fiancee, Lifa... Lifa, meet my somewhat estranged brother Erik."
Still reluctant to stand up after his two pints and a slugging, he managed to carry through and hold out one hand to the woman. "Hello." She greeted with a stiff smile, while Erik merely bowed his head and muttered the word "charmed". His little brother sure knew how to pick them, as Lifa was quite easy on the eyes with wheat field-blonde hair that stretched just past her neck, full red lips, and oceanic colored iris.
"Your brother speaks very highly of you." She managed to break the silence.
"Not exactly true, but okay." Lief jested.
"Lief..." She grimaced.
"What? He deserves to know the truth."
Looking annoyed, they all hung their heads down waiting for one another to speak. The musicians were now playing a more somber and relaxed tune, the argonian still trembling in his cold blooded skin as he frisked the strings of his fiddle like a petrified kitten.
"So, apparently you knew one another for a while. You just didn't start courting one another until recently." Erik stimulated the conversation away from its degree of awkwardness.
"Why yes." Lifa giggled with a smile. "Sometimes you just don't know what's best for you until it finally hits you."
There was another periodical moment of silence.
"Well, I'm sorry to say, but I've got some business here." Erik finally admitted.
Lief's eyes pried themselves open and he scratched the back of his neck. "Oh?"
"Um... yes."
"Oh, so you attended our wedding shower because you just happened to be in the neighborhood, eh?" Lief bellowed, viciously backhanding his mead tankard which fell off the table and skipped across the street, dousing the legs of several people in the crowd, few seemed to notice or pay attention to the source of the trouble.
"Lief, please." Lifa sighed, walking over to him and urging him to sit back down. He immediately complied and heaved a sigh, shaking his head and making fake, pained smiles and grins. Erik merely hung his bearded head lower, and gave a respectful two finger salute to his brother. "I'll be here all night tonight and most of tomorrow."
"Yeah, go choke on your breakfast." His bipolar younger brother contested. Lifa countermanded the remark by smacking him in the back of his head. "But really, it was good seeing you... OLAF! MORE MEAD OVER HERE!"
Erikjord merely shook his head and walked off. His younger brother's temper was always marginally unpredictable, though it seemed to have worsened with time. He approached the jitterbugging argonian musician and produced a gold coin, the face of Tiber Septim branded into it, from his pocket, dropping them into a feathered cap that lay on the ground. The argonian merely blinked at him with his yellow, fishy eyes while continuing to play. The nord leaned closer to him.
The argonian lizard continued his viola track and spoke loud enough for only Erik to hear him. "He's living on the southwestern tip of the island, located on the near side of the bay."
"Thank you, Basks-In-Moonlight." Erik praised the argonian by name. "And why don't you play 'Rum Creek' after you finish this song." He dropped another coin into the overturned headgear, and the argonian nodded. Erik walked off, and head for his room at the inn.
