The skin of milk swings in my right hand and the bag of sweets is swinging in my left hand as I rush up the stairs to the 'observatory'. From what I've been told the 'observatory' is actually just a nicely decorated rooftop where people can relax. Adharanji promised to keep everyone else away while the Dovahkiin and I are there. I have no idea how she's going to do that or why she'd want to, but I'm not questioning it at this point. I've recently learned that it's just better to accept things at this point instead of wondering.
I'm exhausted and out of breath when I reach the top of the tower; however, I accomplished my goal and got here before the sweets cooled or the milk warmed. I take a brief second to catch my breath before pushing my way outside. A stiff breeze whips my hair around my head as I examine the tower. The entire floor is covered in plush chairs, lounging seats, and beds. Pillows and sewn into every square inch of the tower top while blankets are making a small canopy overhead.
The canopy only goes around the edges of the tower, so we still have a view of the sky. I kick off my shoes and begin wading through the sea of plush softness. I see my tremendous friend lounging on the floor and looking up at the sky. I put the baskets beside me and lie down beside the Khajiit. The Dovahkiin remains silent for a few moments.
"I'm glad you came.". I look up at the sky and return her greeting.
"I'm glad you allowed me to come.". I keep looking at the stars.
"When's dinner?". I feel her shrug beside me.
"I heard something about burnt roast from the servants, so expect a lot of delays.". I chuckle and have a little fun at her expense.
"I take it 'burnt' isn't bloody enough for you?". A small scoff passes her lips.
"I can still eat you.". I laugh and slowly fall silent. For a moment both of us just bask in one another's presence. Finally, I decide to try to use Adharanji's conversation advice.
"Do you like being home?". The Khajiit grunts.
"I need to see my mother after dinner. If she'll forgive me, then I'll be able to stomach this place. That's about as good as it'll get. There's a lot of old hurt from before here. And new hurt.". I venture further.
"New hurt?". She grunts again.
"My husband apparently returned here after he heard I died. He wanted to check on one of our daughters. Only she'd left. He ended up staying and trying to help my parents. The servant I was talking to told me that one day he just threw himself from one of the towers.". Silence. I bring my hand up and pat her on the arm in comfort.
"Do you need my help with the new hurt?". I glance over and see her shake my head.
"It's a dull ache. Not one of pain and mourning, but of guilt. He was never a love or friend. He was like a charge to me. I needed to protect him and take care of him. He was hardly a child when we were married, and I never saw him as an adult.". I awkwardly point something out.
"You had children with him.". She nods.
"Only half of the children I had were his, but you're right. When there wasn't anyone else to sate my sexual appetite I'd turn to him. Even then, I still saw him as a child. Each time I had sex with him was like having sex with a virgin. Anyway, he's dead. I hadn't seen him in years, so the pain still isn't quite there. Now it's just a feeling of guilt because I caused his death and he clearly cared for me more than I cared for him.". I attempt to casually inquire into whether she would be willing to be with someone else. It's a scummy thing to do, but I want to know if a dead husband she never knew will keep her from giving me a chance.
"I'm sure one day you'll find someone who'll install a greater pain in you if they should perish.". She chuckles a little.
"I hope the next person who could do that doesn't hop off of a tower.". She sighs deeply.
"I doubt there'll be someone like that. I'm too old for love. Everyone who'd want me either has one foot in the grave or is mentally unstable.". My heart hurts a little at her words. She has no self-confidence in herself.
"Can you elaborate?". She nods.
"People my age are near dead or dying. People below me shouldn't like me. I'm fat, old, and worn. Years of battle and drink have stripped me of everything attractive. Look at me.". I turn my head and see her run her good hand through her thin hair. Grey, white, and fading roots reveal themselves to me. Occasionally, a splash of red runs through the sea of age.
"My pelt was once beautiful, but when you shaved it you allowed it to grow anew. And the color coming in is marred by my age.". She raises the fur on her neck and shows me her wrinkled skin.
"My daughter doesn't have skin like mine. Our flesh ages the same as yours. The older you get, the more wrinkles you get. And to top it off.". She pats her stomach.
"Years of scooping raw flesh into my mouth have added a few pounds.". My entire being hurts with a unique pain at the Khajiit putting herself down. Her 'flaws' are what make her beautiful. They're what make her who she is as a person. I always hated when people said they could 'overlook' their partners flaws. I don't need to 'overlook' the Khajiit's. Her flaws are beautiful to me because they're her. I take a deep breath and try to steer her from her current path of talking about how terrible she is appearance wise.
"I think you're being too hard on yourself.". She creases her brow and scoffs.
"Ria, you aren't my prisoner anymore. You don't need to lie and try to appease me to free yourself. Feel free to speak your mind.". I allow silence to rule for a few moments, and take the momentary distraction to pull some sweets from the basket. I decide to try to keep the Khajiit busy while I talk. I offer her some apple pastry smeared with icing. The woman takes it as I push the skin of milk into her other hand. Thankfully, the Dovahkiin is successfully distracted. She pops the pastry into her maw and begins chewing it with her broken and shattered fangs.
"I spoke my mind. You have a good heart and you're a hero. I think that shines through. Besides, everyone gets old and wrinkly eventually. Beauty fades with time, but our personalities stay with us throughout our lives.". I take a deep breath.
"And, you're attractive physically.". The woman swallows her food and chuckles.
"Nobody's looked at me and seen 'good' and 'hero' in a long time. And the only reason you think I look good is because you have a Khajiit fetish.". My face becomes hot and I'm struggling to get enough air suddenly.
"I do not!". The Dovahkiin takes a swig of milk before talking.
"There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's not like you're refusing every other race. You just have a preference.". I inhale sharply and shake my head. I'm open to the idea of a relationship with anyone. I usually prefer men who aren't Altmer (never did try to find out why), but it's not unheard of for me to find a Khajiit woman beautiful. There just weren't any Khajiit women to find beautiful back in Whiterun. Okay, she's exotic. Maybe that's a reason why I'm attracted physically to her? Nah, can't be. If that was the case, then I'd be drooling over her whole family. I know me, however, I also know it'll be worthless arguing with the woman. Besides, I think I can turn that to my advantage.
"Alright, maybe I do have a preference for my women to have a little hair. So? Is it so wrong to have a certain taste?". The Dovahkiin shakes her head.
"As long as you don't 'cross out' the idea of having a relationship with a certain race or a certain person because of their race. Even I happen to have a preference.". I see my chance and take it.
"Oh? What do you like?". The woman offers a smirk I know isn't innocent.
"Anyone who's willing to fuck me.". I inwardly sigh and decide to listen to the advice the Khajiit's daughter gave me. I'll just have to find out how she wants to be romanced, then do that. Obviously, tonight's not going to work in my favor.
"I know I'm backtracking in the conversation, but may I ask you something I just now thought of?". She nods.
"Did you husband actually romance you before you were married?". She shakes her head.
"We only met a few days before our wedding, and he was still a frightened child that barely came up to my chest. The most 'romantic' thing he did before our marriage was give me a flower he thought was pretty. I ended up being allergic to it, but it was the thought that counted.". I can tell she misses her husband to some tiny extent by the tone of her voice, so I'm glad my next question doesn't involve him directly.
"Did you ever have anyone woo you?". She nods.
"The father of four of my bastards tried to romance me. We were both married, but that didn't stop him from trying. He'd bring me flowers and sweets before trying to take me somewhere romantic for sex.". I can't do the sex thing, but I could do sweets and flowers.
"Did his wooing work? Were you ever tempted to leave your husband for him?". Anyone else would question the almost interview type of conversation. Thankfully, the stories about the Khajiit's vanity are somewhat true. As long as she's talking about herself she doesn't care what kind of questions you're asking her at the time.
"No. I liked sweets, but they weren't the key to my heart. Flowers, however, weren't even tempting. Somehow, giving me a dead plant doesn't scream 'romance' to me.". She seems to contemplate her response for a brief second.
"I like the idea of pelts and trophies of the hunt being presented to me.". I feel my heart sink. I was originally out here looking for a trophy worthy of the Companions! There's no WAY I'll be able to find a trophy worthy of the Dovahkiin!
"What? Why? They're just silly pelts. Anyone can get pelts. Pelts aren't even in style anymore. It's silk.". The Khajiit shrugs in response.
"I like the thought that someone went out, found the biggest and baddest thing they could, and killed it just to give it away to me. Even if it is just to bed me, it still shows a stubborn sense of self-assurance I've always found attractive. And, I have a new pelt. So, I win either way. And the suitor might even get to bed me. Probably. Hopefully.". I fall into silence as she finishes her food. I have no idea what to do. Again.
Note: Sorry for the wait. Preparing for the 4th was distracting me. Expect another delay due to the 4th of July.
