A/N: I love crazy people. :3 Thanks for reviews!
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Oblivion or any characters, plots or other elements there within, and I gain no monetary profit from the writing of this story. I do claim responsibility for Elowyn Demark and one or two random characters scattered throughout the story.
Chapter 28
"You know, I feel pretty stupid now for jumping into that void so many times when we were last here," Elowyn mused. She decided the Mace of the Zenithar looked pretty good hanging from Thedret's belt. At least he could make some use of it, whereas she would be more likely to bludgeon herself in the back of the head with the unwieldy blunt weapon. "Considering how obvious the solution was."
Thedret urged his bay gelding to walk even with Shadowmere. "Not all that obvious." Elowyn gave him a dry stare and he shrugged. "Okay, maybe a little obvious. Still, at least you didn't need to get half eaten by a bear this time. Let's hope the gauntlets prove to be just as easy to recover."
Elowyn chuckled. "I swear, that sense of humor of yours is just dying to escape."
The man gave a casual shrug, his voice deadpan when he replied. "Not all of us have had the pleasure of spending ten years in the Madhouse to refine our sense of humors as you have."
She gave him a curious sidelong glance and scoffed. "Don't tell me you actually believed my story. I'd be delighted and crushed in equal measure if you did."
"I…don't know," he answered with a little frown. "It would explain a lot, but at the same time it was too fantastical to simply accept at face value. Of course, so many tales of your life are just as extraordinary…"
"Hah, true. I don't even believe them myself. Well, but I'm glad you don't really believe me, though." She flashed him a wicked grin and turned her mare off of the road and into the sparse underbrush. "If you'd actually believed me, it would make our camping experience much less interesting."
"Camping?" Thedret's horse balked for a moment before following behind them through a winding maze of trees and tall grasses. "You refused to stay overnight in Leyawiin, but you want us to camp now, when we are only a few moments from the gate?"
"Mm-hmm. It is getting dark, and we wouldn't want to get ambushed on the roads at night, now would we?"
"Well, of course not, but," she could hear the frustration creeping into his voice and she smiled to herself, "why not stay at an inn?"
"No point wasting good coin on a lumpy, creaky old bed with dirty linens when there's a perfectly serviceable place to pitch a tent, hmm?"
"Where exactly is this 'perfectly serviceable place', Elowyn?"
She waved her hand carelessly. "Oh, not far now."
He let out an irritated sigh, and she could all but hear him thinking of the places that could be nearby that she might use as a campsite. "The only thing in this area is a Wayshrine of Stendarr. And…"
She twisted in her saddle to grin at his bleak expression. "Oh, go on. Say it! You know you want to. I'm dying to hear you say it."
"A daedric shrine to Sheogorath," he ground out. "You must be joking."
"Of course not. I never joke. I'm a knight after all, a knight in service of the Nine Divines at that, and we can't have knights with wit, now can we?"
Thedret stifled a groan. "The worshipers of Sheogorath are wild, out of control, and violent."
"Sometimes," she nodded, "my followers can be unpredictable. But don't worry. I'll protect you."
This time the groan escaped, but she was a bit disappointed that he held his tongue and did not argue as she led him through the forest toward the shrine. This time it was not laughter that she heard first, but raised, bickering voices. She and Thedret dismounted to approach the shrine on foot, and she had to grin as she listened to the dispute.
"And what would a Nord know about the sun anyway?" That was Ferul, and he sounded more agitated than usual. "You spend your lives rooting in the snow like fat little hairy pigs! It's no wonder you are so insipid! Your brains have frozen over! It is so tempting to break open your skull and prove myself right…"
"I may be insipid," Ortis, that was definitely Ortis, "but I'm not stupid, you stupid, dirty Elf! You 'spect me to believe that the sun is huge, bigger than the world? Your mammy must have drop you on your head when you was born! And then kicked ya' for good measure!"
"You cannot devour the sun in one bite, you buffoon! And leave Mother out of this! She was a saint, I tell you! And she'd have boiled your eyeballs in their sockets for your disrespect! I'm tempted to do it for her!"
"Bah, I'll show you. One of these days, I'm gonna eat the sun right in front of your face. Then I'll lick all the stars from the sky, too. What do ya have to say to that, huh?"
Thedret caught her arm just before they cleared the tree line, and she drank in the panicky concern in his eyes and tried very hard not to laugh at him. "Elowyn, this is dangerous. If you're trying to prove something to me…"
At that she did laugh and stepped into the clearing, the gentle light from the small campfire at the base of the statue warm and welcoming. The moment she appeared, someone let out a desperate sob and sprinted for her.
"Make them stop," the same High Elf woman who had been there during Elowyn's last visit, and who was still as naked as a newborn babe, clung to the front of the Redguard's armor. Enormous, unfocused eyes lined with tears stared up at her. "Please, my Lord, make them stop. Do not let them destroy the light!"
"Shh, it's alright. Don't worry," she soothed with a gentle smile that turned dark as her eyes moved to fixate on the smirking Nord sprawled beside the fire. "I thought you were on a strict diet, my friend. Wouldn't the sun ruin your delicate figure?"
"Bah," Ortis snorted, then rolled to his back to glare up at the darkening sky. "A man can't try to make a snack out of a sweet little succulent babe without gettin' all manner of trouble these days. Threatenin' to call the guards on me…selfish farmers. What do they need all them brats for anyway? Can't spare just one? Bah."
"My beautiful Madgod." Ferul breezed over to her, his customary robe left unbuttoned this time and revealing that all he wore underneath was short thews. The Dark Elf gave the trembling Altmer a disdainful sneer and shooed the woman away before he delicately lifted Elowyn's hand to press a kiss against the gloved back.
"'Tis my supreme pleasure to welcome you back, my Lord, even if your absence was far too long for my liking." His charming smile vanished when Thedret emerged beside her with a dark frown on his face, but the Elf perked up after a contemplative pause. "Ah, you have brought a sacrifice! There is nothing more satisfying than bringing a willing human to slaughter in worship of yourself, aye? Besides, it has been far too long since we painted your statue red."
Elowyn had to grin at the flat expression on Thedret's face, but she shook her head and extracted her hand from Ferul's grasp. "No slaughtering today, I'm afraid."
"A pity." The Dunmer studied Thedret through narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and forth. "A living sacrifice perhaps? A meatshield? A way to distract the enemy with the promise of fresh blood whilst you slip away?"
Amused by the notion, and the expression on her companion's face, Elowyn shrugged thoughtfully. "In a way."
Thedret shot her a sharp glance and warned, "Elowyn…"
"Such informality!" Ferul gasped. "Perhaps he is what has kept you from visiting, aye? Hmm, yes, perhaps…"
Elowyn moved to a clear space on the far side of the fire where she dumped her pack and began the search for her tent and bedroll. "Sir Thedret is a friend and companion, Ferul, and I expect you to attend his needs with the same devotion you attend to mine."
Her coy tone was not lost on Thedret, who glared daggers at her even as she grinned from ear to ear. He was all too easy to rile, and things had not even gotten strange yet.
"Not all, I should hope," Ferul purred, but his eyes were dangerous as he stared at the other man with a calculating scowl. Suddenly he stepped very close to Thedret, almost near enough for their noses to touch, but the Redguard did nothing but stare coolly down at the smaller man. "Her thighs taste like skooma and honey, you know."
Thedret blinked, his cool composure wavering, and blurted out, "What?" as Elowyn burst out laughing.
"Go easy on him, Ferul," the woman admonished even as her shoulders shook with repressed chuckles. She unclasped her armor piece by piece and tried to conceal her amusement at the entire scene.
"Of course, Madgod," the Elf answered without moving from his nose-to-nose position in front of the knight. "And she is ticklish behind her left knee, but not her right. Especially if you use your tongue. But only if she is not expecting it. Aye, 'tis true. Did you know that?"
Choking on her laughter, Elowyn called, "Thedret bring your gear over here and set up your tent. No pissing contests, Ferul. Not tonight, anyway. We've a busy day tomorrow and I need my knight undamaged."
The Dunmer stood firm for another heartbeat before he snorted and turned away from Thedret. Ferul scowled and wrung his hands while they began to set up for the night, then suddenly said, "You know, he doesn't belong here. He doesn't love you like we do. He doesn't dance naked over hot coals for you, or eat the heads off beetles in your honor, or paint your likeness in blood on the clouds for all to admire. And he smells."
Thedret snorted and started to say something, but Elowyn cut him off. "You know, I tried to tell him about the smell," she answered in all seriousness. "Lavender, right?"
"Aye," the sneering Elf replied, "and cinnamon."
She shrugged and lay her blankets flat. "He's a knight in service to the Nine Divines. It's normal."
Ferul huffed out a sigh and stomped off toward his bedroll. "Makes me sneeze."
"Sleep well, Ferul," she called after him.
"This is crazy," Thedret grumbled as he threw his pack inside his low tent.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Elowyn grinned at him and ducked inside her tent.
"They really believe you are Sheogorath." His voice was hard, but without seeing his face, Elowyn could not be sure what he was thinking.
"I can't imagine why they would think such a thing," she mused innocently.
The man sighed, then crouched outside the flap of her tent, his voice a conspiratorial hiss. "Is it even safe to sleep here?"
"Of course. I'm their god, silly. They love me."
"I mean for me."
She laughed and curled up on her blankets. "If they eat you while you're sleeping, I'll make sure you get a nice, spacious tomb with lots of beautiful spirit women to keep you company."
Thedret growled in irritation, but she could see his silhouette still sitting outside her tent. After a long paused, he asked in a hushed whisper, "Do I really smell like lavender?"
Elowyn bit down on the inside of her cheek, but her giggling escaped all the same. "And cinnamon," she snickered. "I did try to tell you."
Thedret sighed again and went to his own tent, muttering to himself, "Completely insane…"
