Adventures of Two Khajiit
Co-authored by Me and My Friend
Disclaimer:... -.-'
Chapter 10: Recuperation
Yoake heads out, ears perked to catch any sounds, be it friendly or hostile. She finds the main road, and puts her fingers to her mouth and whistles a melody. It's so high that it can barely be heard by someone standing next to her, but the tune carries far.
She doesn't have to wait long before the sound of distant thundering hooves is heard, increasing steadily. The impressive, night black stallion soon emerges between the nearby trees. Yoake lead Shadowmere back to the beach, a lump forming in her throat when she sees all the blood. "Mir? Are you alright?" "Hhhh... just tired... weak. Help Mir up, please."
The worried she-cat grabs Mi'rasj by his armpits, and through great effort, get him on his belly across the comfortable saddle. Yoake use some of her leather strips to secure Saviour's Hide to the saddle. Once Mi'rasj is in no danger of falling off, she instructs Shadowmere to make the trip to Markarth as stable as possible. He keeps the pace at a reasonably paced trot, with Arvak following a short distance behind. At this rate, they will reach The City of Stone when a sundial would show "8".
Keeping one hand on the dark stallion's shoulder, Yoake sets of at a looping run that she can keep up for hours. Her sharp eyes scout the landscape ahead, searching each rock, bush and hillside on the road to Markarth for bandits and predators that they don't have the time to fight, anything that may halt their journey. There is no sound beside the clopping of hooves and the occasional pained moan from Mi'rasj, but the lynx Khajiit has trouble hearing them over her own thumping heart.
Sooner than she thought, but far later than she hoped, a familiar hill lead down to a bridge, a guard tower and up to the welcome grey walls of the City of Stone. Sighing of relief, Yoake slow as she reaches the last slope before the stables. Calling out to Cedran for help as she nears, the she-cat start releasing the straps holding Mi'rasj to the saddle as soon as Shadowmere stop. ''Cedran! Mi'rasj has been shot, can you help me get him to the Temple of Dibella?''
Having been momentarily startled by the sudden appearance of Markarth's Khajiit Thane with her red-eyed horse, and another skeletal horse following them, Cedran gets up from his chair, and jog over to the duo. ''Well of course! As long as we take it slow, these old legs o' mine don't like stairs very much.'' Moving to Yoake's side, the stable master help her lower the injured he-cat to from the saddle before slinging the Khajiit's left arm over his shoulder while Yoake takes the right side. Looking over at her human helper, she can't help but let a small smile show. ''You are not that old, Cedran my friend. The wheel of the seasons shall turn many more times before you can no longer keep up with stairs and horses.''
With Mi'rasj supported between them, the three make their way through the massive metal doors that lead into the city. They are quite the sight, walking over the marketplace, a slender she-cat and an elderly Nord carrying a Khajiit with arrows in his behind between them. The locals murmur among themselves as the group passes, and some of the drunkards from the Silver Blood Inn is pointing and laughing, as if the trail of blood left behind them where Mi'rasj drags his injured leg is a fun thing.
Hearing the drunken laughter, Yoake lift her head despite the tiredness dragging it down, and bare her sharp fangs in a vicious snarl, ears flat against her skull and eyes full of sparks. It stops the laughter rather quickly, and more than a few of the drunken bastards recoil in pure, instinctual fright. Turning her face forward again, the tired Khajiit concentrate on not stumbling over the stairs. Even with help, Mi'rasj is mostly deadweight. And heavy for a lithe, exhausted cat.
Cedran is obviously tired, having taken as much of Mi'rasj' weight as he could when he saw how worn out Yoake was. His sweaty face is gleaming in the torchlight, but his dark eyes radiate determination. Together they inch up the stairs to the Temple. When they finally reach the entrance, Mi'rasj slips his arm of his helper, and lean shoulder first against the stone wall to give them a chance to catch their breath after carrying him across the city.
Using his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Cedran straightens and turn toward the stairs. ''This is as far as I'll go. Good luck you two!'' Yoake shake his hand and reach into her belt pouch for septims, but Cedran stops her before she can do much more than start untying the string holding the pouch closed. ''If he lives, I'll accept your coin. If he doesn't make it, I'm not going to take your gold for nothing!'' The she-cat nods in appreciation, and waves him goodbye as the horse-seller starts descending the stairs. Adjusting the arm over her shoulder, she turns toward the temple doors.
Using her one free hand, Yoake push open the doors, grateful they are not heavier. ''Hello? Priestess? I need a healer; my friend is hurt!'' Walking further into the temple, struggling under the weight of her by now nearly unconscious companion, the spotted feline sigh in relief as one of the young apprentices hurry over and lead them to a room in the back, where the head healer is already preparing. Helping the male lay down on his belly on a low table, the healer wave Yoake away and inspect the damage. ''Thank you…'' the furry female manages to breathe out as she sinks down on a nearby bench.
The healer gesture one of the priestesses over, and whisper something in her ear. The priestess hurries away, and arrive shortly with a wooden tray with different tools, including sharp bladed knives with long handles and a variety of different tongs. Trusting the woman to know what she is doing, Yoake barely keep her eyes open as the healer slowly but precisely cut the vicious two pronged arrowheads out of the male's flesh. They have gotten a good thumb-length deep.
Immediately after the last arrow is removed, the woman applies a strange, translucent paste that smell like mustard, on the bleeding wound. The effect is instant as the blood stop flowing and form a crust. Feeding her patient some herbs, the healer walks over to her tired but visibly worried spectator. ''He will recover, the arrows where luckily not poisoned,'' she says in a soft voice ''but he will need a lot of liquid, mead is fine, but milk is preferred. He will also need a lot of rest, at least 8 hours a day for a week. No running or jumping, either.''
Looking up from the bench where she was close to nodding off, Yoake give the woman a tired but grateful smile. ''Thank you, Milady. I will try to keep him from running and jumping, though this one know not how successful she will be. He can be rather sneaky… and stubborn.'' Rising to her feet, the usually graceful cat stumble before finding her footing. ''How much for your aid? And can he stay here while one get someone to help me carry him home?''
''If your friend here knows what is good for him, he will listen to you. We do not want the damage to get worse. The small sum of 80 septims is all we require for this service. Of course, if you spend a few minutes praying at the altar of Dibella, the Goddess of spirit and love, there will be no sum to pay at all. And he can stay here until you have found a volunteer to help you.''
Yoake look from the alter to the healer and back again. ''Actually… I have something for the Temple. A statue of Dibella, found in a bandit lair. It must have been stolen from some poor, unfortunate soul that were mugged and perhaps even killed by those ungodly savages. This one can think of no other who would give it the respect it deserves, and maybe even find who it belongs to. And I thank you, fair healer, your Temple's kindness is a beacon in these dark times.''
The soft-spoken healer smile brightly at the news. ''Haah, Dibella be praised! Thank you, child, thank you! This more than make up for the effort I have done here! Oh, such a gesture of good cannot go unrewarded! Here, take this enchanted ring. It was donated to us a month ago, but we have little use for it here. The enchantment will make you able to resist hostile magic, may it protect you when you need it the most!''
Bowing to the healer as courtly as she can without falling over in her exhausted state, Yoake head for the door. ''This one thank thee, Milady. The statue is still in my saddlebag, you shall have it upon my return.'' Walking outside, the slender she-cat begin the seemingly endless journey back to the stables for the statue, smiling when she sees that Cedran have been nice enough to saddle off both Shadowmere and Arvak and put them in their pens, with plenty of food and water. He has even brushed them down! Or at least the one that have fur to brush.
Yoake hangs a small bag of coin, with a thank-you note in it, on a convenient peg. She digs through her saddlebags, once again praising her own laziness when it comes to emptying them, and drag the statue out from under an old hood. Prize in hand, the feline walk back into the city, stopping by her house to collect her housecarl for help.
Heading down the stairs, Argis follow his sworn mistress, statue over shoulder. His steel boots clank loudly against the stone, in contrast to Yoake's nigh-soundless steps as she swears and curses said stairs to the deepest levels of Oblivion, and beyond. Entering the Temple as they come full circle, Argis hand the statue over to a grateful priestess, and walk towards the room where Mi'rasj still lies.
Casting a look on his barely standing Thane, Argis solve the problem of getting Mi'rasj to Vlindrel Hall by simply dragging the Khajiit's arms over his shoulders and lifting the him onto his back, grabbing under the male's knees to hold him in place. A tad undignified, and the black-striped male would have protested heavily… had he been awake. Herself, Yoake is far to worn out to do more than shake her head with a sigh and a grin, and follow her housecarl down and up even more stairs. ''When he gets well, we are going to Heljarchen Hall… where aren't so many… bloody… STAIRS,'' the feline mutter angrily to herself as she opens the door to her Markarth home, waving Argis toward her bedroom.
''Just… put him on my bed… then you are free the rest of the evening… night… whatever.'' "Yes ma'am," Argis says stoically while he gently puts down Mi'rasj on his belly. The recent exertion appears to have had no discernible effect on the Nord. As he moves towards the main door, he turns and looks back at Yoake with his usable eye. "I'll be at the Silver-Inn. Shout if you need me." His Thane is too tired to reply. She just nods at him, and Argis take his leave.
Yoake relaxes her spine, and limply falls backwards onto the comfy bed. She gazes over at Mi'rasj. He must be dreaming, for his eyelids, nose, and whiskers twitch regularly! The she-cat sighs, brings her feet up to her chest, and pulls off her boots, before remove the rest of her shrouded armour as well, throwing it all in a heap in the corner. She leaves her grey tunic and snug leather pants on, and pulls off his Forsworn boots and gauntlets.
"Heh! You know," Yoake says as she undresses the sleeping he-cat, "I think Argis thinks that I sent him away because we're up to "funny-business"... not like you're unconscious and I'm exhausted or anything...," throwing his gauntlets and boots in the corner at his side. Mi'rasj only mumbles indiscernibly. Yoake scratches him behind his ear. "This time I'm afraid it's going to be you that will have to sleep in your armour, kitty-cat! It's both too late and too cumbersome for me to safely unequip it... hhhfff..."
With a worn-out smile, she lays down beside the male, her back towards him. They both lie atop of the blanket, Yoake is just too tired to move her legs anymore. Mi'rasj' deep, rhythmic breathing become her lullaby, and she falls quick asleep, happy that the he-cat next to her appear to be stable.