Author's Note: Yes, I know it's been forever. I've had to deal with a lot of things these past few months, just ask Pheonicia. :P I hope to update more often now.
Adrian's Cure Disease spells took effect during the night, much to his relief, allowing him and Vaera to move on. The ride from the inn to Skingrad hadn't been nearly as trying as any of their other journeys, as Vaera pushed Navali hard at Adrian's request, the Breton obviously quite eager to get home. He made his feelings clear with an almost constant yammering about the things he planned to do once he got home.
"First, I want a good meal. That mutton we ate this morning was starting to turn, I could taste it. Then I've got to go take care of a few things in the market," he went on, the mer in front of him rolling her eyes unseen, "I've got so much to do. We may have to stay here a few days just so I can do all I need to do."
"You act like you've been away for months," Vaera retorted, turning her head to look at her companion, "And what's all this talk of we have to stay? What if I don't feel like staying?" She cocked an eyebrow.
"Uh, I didn't mean it like that. You can leave ahead of me if you like," he responded, a bit embarrassed he'd taken her company for granted.
"Relax, I'm not letting you go anywhere alone," she chuckled, smirking as she saw the color come to Adrian's face, "Honestly, I don't know how you even got on without me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the Breton asked dejectedly, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows.
"So you weren't going to walk yourself to death on the way to Anvil?" The Dunmer's voice took on a haughty tone, one Adrian had grown familiar with. She always made herself sound like nobility when she talked down to him in her playful way.
"Right, I was the helpless one. I suppose cowering under Bjalk's ax was a clever ploy to lull him into a false sense of security, right? You were preparing a brilliant counter-attack, is that it?" Adrian teased in return. Judging by Vaera's sudden rigidity in the saddle, she obviously didn't enjoy the taste of her own medicine.
"Now let's not ruin this stop with bickering." The Breton patted his companion lightly on the shoulder. "I'm even going to pick something up for you while we're here, how about that?"
Vaera stayed silent for a few moments. "Something nice?" She put a hint of a pout into her question, sugaring her voice up ever so slightly.
"Something very nice," Adrian assured.
"The guild hall?" Vaera balked, Adrian's suggestion taking her by surprise, "You have a house here, don't you? Why would you want to stay at the guild hall?"
"Because," Adrian began, leading the Dunmer up the street, "we're on guild business, and studying will be easier if we're actually in the hall," the Breton explained. "Besides, I have a few things to get in order in my home."
"You'll let me see it, though? Won't you?" The mer sounded more enthusiastic than Adrian knew her to usually be.
"What's got you so interested in my house?" he stopped and turned, furrowing his brows at his companion. Surely she was setting him up for some sort of joke at his expense.
"I want to see where you live. I mean, I've been curious," she answered, glancing away from his briefly.
"You're honestly curious?" the Breton queried, elevating his brows in surprise.
Vaera nodded, shrugging softly. "I'm not sure why, but I've been curious ever since it became clear we'd be here together. Maybe I'm curious to see how someone like you lives on your own."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the Breton demanded, narrowing his eyes at his tormentor.
Vaera merely smiled and walked ahead of him. "Nothing," she lilted, voice turning melodic as she answered him, "nothing at all."
Adrian pushed open one of the heavy doors to the guild hall, leading Vaera inside.
"Why Adrian, I didn't expect you back so soon," a soft female voice greeted, "I thought you'd be on the road for weeks yet."
"I'm only passing through, Adrienne," the Breton replied to the woman standing by the staircase. To Vaera, something seemed strange about the way the two Bretons looked at each other, like some unspoken messages were passing between them.
"I'm sure you know Vaera. She passed through a week or so back," he gestured toward the mer, changing the subject a little too quickly for the mer not to feel her suspicions were affirmed.
"Ahh, yes, I remember you," Adrienne stepped toward the pair, crossing her arms. "I never expected you'd run into our little Adrian. He taking you under his wing, is he?" She shot a look at Adrian, only for a moment, but Vaera saw it clearly.
"Not exactly," Adrian chimed in, answering for Vaera before she could even speak.
"I remember when I took him under my wing," Adrienne continued, apparently pretending she didn't even hear what he'd said. "So many years ago. An apprehensive student, but he learned very well...and very quickly," she went on in her sultry, cultured voice, her former student giving her a rather indignant look. "Why, it seems like only yesterday..."
"I have to go," Adrian cut her off, prompting a soft chuckle from the other Breton. "I'll be back later on."
"You're leaving me here?" Vaera turned, wondering why her companion seemed so eager to separate himself from her.
"I have a few things I need to take care of. I'd prefer to do it alone." The Breton pushed the heavy door open again. "I'll come back for you when I'm done." He stopped for a moment, turning to face the Dunmer. "Then I'll take you to see my house, all right? Late this evening."
Vaera nodded, watching Adrian as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. She then turned, seeing Adrienne had busied herself with a book. "What was all that about?" the mer inquired, standing by the door.
"It's not any of your concern," the magister replied, a not so subtle coldness to her voice, "Sufficed to say, I've known Adrian for quite some time." She examined Vaera, those hard, intelligent eyes scrutinizing the mer and clearly finding her lacking in some respect. "So, how did you meet him?"
"I sort of ran into him. We stuck together after that," she answered, not letting her gaze flicker away from Adrienne's eyes. The older woman seemed to be waiting for Vaera to make some sort of mistake, show some sort of weakness and give her the opportunity to pounce. Vaera didn't intend to give her that opportunity.
Adrienne simply smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I see. He's an excellent mage, I'm sure you'll learn a lot from him." The older woman rose from her seat and started toward the stairs, letting up on the mer for the time being. "As long as your here, I may as well put you to some good use. Follow me, I've some things that need to be reorganized."
Vaera sighed and blew a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Somehow, she knew this would turn into a most unpleasant evening.
Sulfur and bad wine, the pungent mixture of scents assaulted Adrian's nostrils, causing the Breton to blink rapidly. He looked around the dimly lit room, not seeing any signs of life, save for a spider idly spinning its web it the corner of the room.
"Agnete?" he called, a sudden thump from behind her counter coming as a response.
"Not so loud," a voice moaned from behind the oaken counter. A tall, thickly built Nord rose in the shadows. She dusted herself off, clenching her eyes shut, so as not to let any light in. "Whaddya want?" She peeled one eye open, glaring at her visitor until she recognized him. "Oh, Adrian," she sighed, massaging her temples, "Didn't expect you to be back so soon."
"No one did," he replied, making sure to keep his voice down. "I was looking to get something specially made for a friend."
"What did you have in mind?" Agnete's eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Dim as it may have been, too much cheap wine could turn sunlight into fire for the eyes.
"I have a friend," the Breton began, taking a short sword from a nearby shelf, "She has a sword, but it's old and much too big for her. I'd hoped to get her something new, something much lighter," he went on, finally setting an Akaviri katana on the counter in front of Agnete. "Something like this."
"I take it not merely any katana will do," she sighed, sensing his order would be difficult and require a lot of heat and hammering and other things that would keep her from drinking.
"I want it to be special. She's a novice, so I want it to be something she can use immediately, but will still be useful as she improves. A katana would be perfect as far as balance, don't you think?"
"Wouldn't it be easier to bring her in?"
"I want this to be a surprise, so we'll have to hope it works out, I suppose. Do you think you can work off that little information?" Adrian stepped in the way of the soft sunlight coming through Agnete's already shielded windows so the Nord could at least look him in the face.
"Yeah," she sighed in reply, lifting one bloodshot eye to the Breton. "one hundred fifty septims. I won't go any lower, that's shaving the price already."
Adrian balked, breath catching in his throat as she stated the price. He let his breath out slowly, hoping Agnete might have been joking, but the constant, unblinking gaze of her forcibly opened eye told him such was not the case.
"All right," he replied at last, nodding slowly. "I'll pay, but only when I see the results and only if they satisfy me."
"Fair enough," Agnete replied, already painfully twisted face tugging into a smile. "So, who's this lady you're surprising?" Before the words were even all the way out of the hungover blacksmith's mouth, her front door slammed closed. She hissed, clapping her hands over her ears to shield them from the noise.
"Bastard!" she spat, leering over at the closed door.
Adrian cradled the bottle of wine under his arm. Days in a saddle bag hadn't done it any harm, except perhaps warming it a bit. Still, a vintage Surilie was a vintage Surilie. You'd be hard pressed to find anything better in any condition.
He pushed open the door to the West Weald Inn, instantly greeted by a wave from Erina Jeranus from behind the bar. With a smile, he made his way over.
"Erina, it's good to see you," he greeted, keeping the bottle out of sight, lest she take an interest in purchasing it. Imperials seemed to have a natural penchant for persuasion.
"And you, Adrian. I hadn't expected you back so quickly. I trust you're not back for good?" she inquired, giving the Breton a sideways glance.
"Only for a few days. I wanted to ask if Sinderion is in," he moved the conversation along quickly, trying to keep it on point. "I've a request to make of him. He's not out foraging is he?"
"Downstairs as always. Sometimes I dread going down there. He comes up for food so rarely these days, I fear I might find him dead of starvation. Speaking of starvation, you must be famished, a busy young man like yourself. Could I interest you in..."
"Not now, I really have to speak with Sinderion." He turned, walking away at a brisk pace, but then he remembered. "Actually, there is something I need. Does that Nord girl still work for you? The one you hired as a maid?"
"Hilda? Why yes, why do you ask?" The old Imperial woman raised her cultured brows at him.
"I wonder, if I paid you, could you have her and a few others clean the main floor of my home?"
"Of course," Erina replied, leaning her arms on the counter with a warm smile. "The fee for such a request would be...sixty septims. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
The Breton balked, furrowing his brows as she voiced the price. "Sixty?" he barked, looking around to see a few faces turned in his direction. He lowered his voice. "Sixty's outrageous, even for a house the size of mine," he hissed, somehow knowing the battle would be over before it began.
"I've turned Hilda into something of a side business. These days, you have to reseve her in advance, but since you've been such a good customer over the years, I'll cut you in since she's got an opening in a little while. You should be honored," the old woman scolded, crossing her arms.
"I will be on the streets at this rate."
"Please," she scoffed, knowing full well Adrian's loss had presented him with a great deal of material gain in return.
He sighed, paying her incredible fee and rushing quickly off to the cellar before she could offer to sell him anything else for worlds more than it was worth.
He moved quickly to the cellar door, pushing the heavy oaken barrier open. The cellar was dim, but warm and dry. In the corner, settled behind a small table, stood Sinderion. The old Altmer leaned over a alembic, carefully watching a murky green liquid drip down the thin neck of the bottle into a beaker. Adrian watched from the corner, keeping silent as the old master alchemist sniffed briefly over the opening of the glass.
"Still trying to turn iron into gold?" Adrian chuckled. Sinderion's head perked up moments later in a delayed reaction, the mer's bushy, white eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Adrian," he marveled, wincing and placing a palm to his back as he stood straight up. "Why, it's feels like it's been months since I've seen you. I'd heard Serrian asked you to be magister somewhere. Haven't you left yet?"
"It has, and he did" the Breton confirmed, "You haven't been out of this building in quite some time, I take it?"
Sinderion shrugged, reaching up to rub the top of his thinning head. "Erm...perhaps. Care to tell me what time it is?" the alchemist queried.
"It's nearly nightfall," Adrian replied, hoping Adrienne wasn't working Vaera too hard back at the guild hall.
"Nightfall?" Sinderion gaped, taking his turn to furrow his brows. "I'd predicted it was still morning. How time does fly," he murmured, returning his attention to his work. "So, what is it that you need?"
"I have something here. I took it off a Khajiit after he tried to kill me," the Breton stated, pulling the long-untouched bag of white powder out of his pocket.
Without so much as looking up, Sinderion waved the offer away. "I'm afraid I'm very busy these days, Adrian. I simply don't have the time." He crumbled a leaf up in his hand and sprinkled the powder into the beaker, watching idly as the particles fizzled and dissolved.
Adrian nodded, having played the bartering game a few times too many today. He set the bottle of wine down on the table, just hard enough to catch Sinderion's attention.
"What's that?" the old mer asked, leaning forward in an attempt to read the label on the bottle.
"This?" Adrian turned the bottle away. "This is nothing. Wine, that's all."
"I haven't seen a bottle like that in quite some time. Where did you get this?"
"It was a gift. I'm not one to drink wine, but I think you could make excellent use of it," the Breton mentioned non-nonchalantly, playfully turning the bottle back and forth on the stained table top.
Sinderion nodded, knowing exactly where Adrian was headed. "Give me the bag," he said resignedly, holding his hand out. Adrian handed the bag over, and Sinderion took the bottle, setting it aside. He fetched a mortar and pestle, then poured the contents of the bag in. The Altmer gingerly dipped a finger into the powder and tasted it, hummed softly, then toddled over the rack of bottle behind him. He returned with a bottle of ale and uncorked it, pouring the amber contents into the stone bowl. He mixed the powder and ale with the pestle and watched it carefully as it began to bubble, and a strange, caustic smell filled the room. Adrian coughed and covered his mouth, watching as Sinderion nudged the mortar softly, causing some of the foaming mixture to slop onto the table. It hissed as it hit the wood and began to eat into the surface.
"A very strong caustic powder. It takes action when mixed with alcohol and foams slightly, but not so much that it would seem strange in something like cold beer or ale. I've seen things like this before, but never in the hands of someone who wasn't a professional," the Altmer murmured, casting his gaze toward Adrian.
The young Breton simply stood there, mouth agape, unable to believe what he was hearing. Who would want to kill him? He'd done no research that might upset any malevolent forces, so why hire a professional?
"I have to go," the Breton spoke quietly, suddenly feeling he shouldn't leave Vaera on her own for too long. "Keep the bottle." He hurried up the stairs, hearing Sinderion calling after him to keep an eye out, for the love of all the gods. Adrian only hoped he'd know which way to look.
