Aealynn POV:
When I wake up it's still storming outside, and it seems it's getting even worse. I hop up and look out the window. A sheet of white meets me, and the roar of an angry ice god pounds in my ear. There's no way in oblivion anyone is going to be out there, including the Khajiit and I. Only a fool would try to venture out in weather like this. And, fools don't live long enough to make such poor decisions. I hop off the bed, but I'm nearly sent crashing to the ground when my foot slips on a emptied wine bottle. I kick the glass under the bed, and remember what the Khajiit and I discussed last night. Someone else might regret speaking of those things, but for some reason I don't.
I shrug it off and look for another bottle of beer. I don't have the pounding headache of a hangover, but I don't have the warm fuzziness of drinking. It's an awkward in-between stage, and I intend to fix that. I find some ale in the dresser, and happily open the bottles. After drinking the sweet liquid I wonder what to do, and the answer quickly presents itself. I walk back into the main area of the inn and see the Khajiit idly sitting at one of the benches, a lute in her hand. I walk over and slide into the bench across from her. The woman nods at me in greeting, then offers me a hunk of bread. I take the loaf and tear into it, finishing it off within a few short minutes.
When that's done I wipe my face and question, "Did you legitimately enjoy hearing my views on other races, or were you sugarcoating them so you wouldn't appear rude?". I see mischievous glimmer in her eyes. It's an odd look on the usually professional Khajiit, but it doesn't stay for long. She calms herself down from whatever random thought wandered through her mind, and goes back to behaving like her usual self as she answers, "You views are interesting. I don't personally agree with a lot of your views, but everyone deserves to have their own opinions. If we all agreed with one another about every little things, then there would always be peace and war would be a strange and foreign idea.".
I counter her small speech by telling her, "But peace is a rare relief in this world of battle, and war is what everyone seems to be best at.". I quickly add on to the end, "At least, that's what it was like when I was around.". The Khajiit wistfully strums a string on the lute she's holding as she agrees, "Peace is still a rare relief in a world stuffed to the gills with battles, and war is something every race excels at.". She strums another string. "Well, most races.". She's peaked my attention and I question, "One race stands out from the others?". She nods, but doesn't offer a real answer.
I sigh. "Care to tell me which race is winning?". The Khajiit shakes her head. "No race is 'winning'. One race just happened to recently hand another race it's ass on a silver platter.". I take a guess, "Is it the Khajiit people? You sound proud like it's the Khajiit people.". She gives me an odd look and assures me, "It's not the Khajiit, and I'm not proud. I just find the whole situation rather ironic.". I take another guess, "That Argonians?". She shakes her head and finally gives up trying to be coy with me. "It's the Altmer of The Summerset Isles. One of the few races you didn't hit on last night.". I offer, "I could always go on about them right now.".
I think for a moment, then correct, "I could go on about them, but first I'd like to hear what poor race got fucked up the arse by those elves.". The Khajiit moves so she's sitting in a normal position and puts my curious mind to rest. "The Nords and Imperials got fucked up the arse by the Altmer. Actually, quite a few races got screwed up by the Altmer. But the Imperials and Nords got the worst of it.". She might have tried to quench my seeking mind with information, but I'm still hungry for knowledge. "Did the Khajiit get fucked over by the High Elves?". She makes a kind of 'yes' and 'no' motion at the same time with her head. "It depends on what Khajiit you ask.".
I can practically hear my eye twitch as I continue along this road, in essence like an angry dog chasing a hawk who's hundreds of feet in the air. "What do you think of the Altmer?". I've trapped the Khajiit in a corner, and we both know it. She wasn't be subtle or around the bush, she was just attempting to have a little fun. That's fine by me, but a woman can only take so much fun. And, I've reached my limit. The woman across from me seems to sense my boundaries, and respects them. The Khajiit doesn't play the stupid game as she truthfully answers, "My opinion is rather grey and blurry. I've met few Altmer in my life, and less than ten of them represented The Aldmeri Dominion.".
"One man I met was stuck up and thought himself a gift to humankind, but he was friendly to me. He even gave me an amulet for being such a good conversational partner. In his mind it was probably little more that rewarding a beast for doing a decent trick, but to me it was proof that the some Altmer aren't as bad as others.". I interrupt by saying, "I feel like there's a 'however' coming along.". She agrees, "That's because there is a 'however' coming on.". I nod in understanding and tell her, "Bite the arrow and get it over with, we only have a short amount of time here.". The storm howling outside contradicts me, but the woman obliges.
"However, I once met a woman as evil as sin, and the cruelest being alive. I had to have an extensive conversation with her once, and it was terrifying. I'm not even ashamed to admit I nearly soiled myself when she smiled at me. And, what made it worse is the fact we were alone at the time. She kept bragging about the things she'd killed, and even went as far as to tell me how good my head would look mounted.". The woman shudders and I take the brief pause to notice, "You're still terrified of her, and you don't even know where she is.". The Khajiit nods and agrees, "I'm proud to say I'm smart enough when it comes to battle, and I give even the smallest enemy the respect an opponent in battle deserves.".
"But this woman doesn't deserve the simple respect every opponent deserves, she was worthy of piss your pants fear. We weren't even in battle and she had me fearing for her life. And, it was purely because of the words she spoke.". I can't imagine someone inspiring fear with only their voice, so I inquire, "What could she have said that had you so terrified?". The woman adjust her sitting position once again, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench. "Horrid things. She kept going on about how the enslaving of my people shouldn't have been abolished, and how lovely my skin would look as a rug.".
The woman shudders again, and I briefly see her looking at memories of times long gone. I can't even imagine someone threatening to make me into a rug, or mount my head for display. What would I do in that situation? Would I be fearful and allow myself to be cowed like the Khajiit was, or would I fight back and try to anger the Altmer enough to fight? Would I even get myself into the position like that? It's hard to imagine I would, but weirder things have happened before. She snaps back to the present and brushes off her temporary shuddering fit. "So, tell me what you think of the Altmer? I've told you my opinion, but you're holding out on me.".
I suppose fair is fair, and the woman did tell me her opinion on High Elves. It's not the opinion I was expecting, but that doesn't mean it's not hers. Besides, a promise is a promise. Even if I didn't officially make it, it was still an unofficial agreement. So, I allow my views on Altmer to slip by my lips, the Khajiit attentively listening to every syllable. "Altmer are cruel, cold-blooded, heartless, ruthless, egotistic, and oversuspicious snakes.". She doesn't seem surprised at my view on High Elves, but she does seem a little downhearted about it. We both fall silent. I'm waiting for her to start the conversation back up, and she's waiting for me to restart the conversation in some way. It's her who breaks the stalemate.
"Would you care for me to give a response to that?". I shrug and she takes it as an invitation. "I think you should meet an Altmer before judging them so harshly.". I can't resist the urge and ask, "The one who threatened to hang your head on her wall, and make your skin into a neat little rug?". She shakes her head and seems to smile a little to herself as she retorts, "No. No, I think you two would have too much in common and I'd end up going missing.". She offers herself a small chuckle at her own joke, then gets back to the task at hand. "All the Altmer are different. One gave me a treat like I was a dog, one treated me like I was a prized buck waiting to be shot, and one I'm glad to call my friend.".
I hold back the urge to roll my eyes. "How could you come to be friends with an Altmer? From what you've said they're all warmongers who seem full of themselves.". She waves off my concerns. "A few of them are, but you have to keep something in mind. The ones who are have one thing in common. They're all high ranking members in The Aldmeri Dominion. The gold of war lines their pockets, and everyone's told them from their childhood how wonderful they are. It's only logical they'd get big heads, and be desperate for a war to bring in some bonus gold for them.". A particularly loud howl from outside cuts off our conversation, and tells us the storm is getting even worse.
The Khajiit continues, "But I can't stress enough how that's not all of them. You can't judge an entire population based on the actions of a few.". I absentmindedly nod to appease the woman, but my mind is elsewhere. However, when I'm brought back to reality I offer, "Do you want to hear my views on the only two remaining races? I think you'd find it rather pointless if I gave you my opinion on Bretons.". She goes back to fiddling with the lute as she answers. "I don't think so. It's night outside, and I fear I've grown tired. Besides, we need to focus on what we wish to do next. And, a good night's sleep will give us both time to think.". I don't nod, but she gets the idea that I agree. We both stand and go back to our room, the storm outside beginning to worsen as the gods play their games.