The single candle on the desk fluttered into focus as Vanya blinked into wakefulness. She took a moment to absorb the dim shapes of Teldryn's room, calm and quiet. She had missed this bed.
Alone among the rumpled sheets, she stretched her hand over the space where he'd been. It was cool to the touch. The utter dearth of any memory beyond tucking in with him made her stomach clench.
She shifted onto her back, eyes wandering unseeing over the textured ceiling as the light pulsed warping shadows out toward the edges.
It seemed he'd been up for a while. Either he'd be back very soon or...he'd meant to leave her to her own devices.
She pressed her fists to her head, willing herself to remember if she'd dreamt anything. If she'd spoken.
Gods, what am I doing?
It was idiotic to think that she could keep this up. It would come out eventually, whatever it was that was going on inside of her. With the way Teldryn had reacted last night, it was becoming clear that it would be better to not leave him to his interpretations. That would be difficult, seeing as she hardly had any interpretations to go on herself.
She had to at least try to tell him something, or things would surely get worse. And it was not as if he was unwilling to listen, for how often had he not only sat down to hear her out but rather insisted on it? There it was, though, the question that always surfaced when she was standing over the shattered wreckage, trying to make some sense of it before she could imagine letting another see: Where do I even start?
She sighed heavily as her arms flopped down beside her. She supposed she'd better start by getting out of bed.
Teldryn shouldered his way through the crowd that had gathered near the dock, bleary-eyed and yawning, using the back of Modyn's head as a waypoint to the front. Sleep had taken him instantaneously and fled just as abruptly, leaving him to question if it had happened at all. The tavern had been busy with breakfast patrons, though, and the sun had risen- in what veiled glory that it could- making it clear that time had indeed passed. Then, just as he'd been pressing tobacco into his pipe- the last of the good leaf he'd gotten from the Khajiit- an exuberant call had sounded from the harbor that the banner of House Redoran drew near, fully disabusing him of the notion that he might steal back into bed for a while longer. The savory haze had been less warming than usual as he'd been debating whether to rouse Vanya to come along. It was unusual to be up before her, thus he decided that she needed her rest. Ultimately, it was best he deal with one thing at a time.
Modyn eyed him testily as the soldiers keeping the onlookers contained let him through to join what was apparently the vanguard of the welcoming committee.
"There you are," Modyn hissed. "If you had made me come retrieve you, it would not have been pleasant."
"Calm yourself," Teldryn replied in a low tone, returning terse nods of acknowledgment from both Arano and Morvayn. "It takes an age to disembark." His gaze traveled over the two ships that filled the dock. The familiar Northern Maiden, a wide and open craft of weathered oak, distinctly Nordic in its curvature with sails of white canvas gathered neatly along the mast. The sailors, equally rustic and Nordic, were at ease going about their own business having arrived the day before and unloaded their cargo. Some lined the edge of their seafaring home, watching the activity of the new vessel which seemed to oppose theirs in every way possible.
As Khamir as am Dun. Less familiar, but far more arresting, her narrow hull gleamed like burnished copper, a look unique to her home country and uncommon even there after Red Mountain lessened the already sporadic groves of Nettle Canopy. The banner of House Redoran stood proudly atop the bow, behind which the angled battened sails reached skyward, reminding Teldryn eerily of dragon wings in flight. Shouts in Dunmeri could be heard from the crew as they prepared to extend the walkway to the dock.
"Had to finish my smoke," he said.
Modyn snorted. "I had two fingers of flin, myself."
Teldryn wasn't alone in his unease, at least, although his anticipation was a dread of a different flavor. Nalami Sero was by all accounts austere in manner, coating both her disdain and tenderness with the same veneer. For all he had done, or chosen not to, he could not say which he would prefer to see from her. To see her again, though, would be a relief nonetheless.
Councilor Morvayn checked that his attire was straight and Arano's wife, Cindiri, materialized next to her husband to make similar assessments. Modyn turned to welcome Dreyla under his arm. She fit the part now, groomed in fine clothing and jewels, the features of her face painted in a way that aged them, though not diminishingly so. What she could not mask was the terror brimming behind her eyes. She looked up at Teldryn and he pitied that there was no word of comfort to give her. Still, a grin ghosted her lips.
"We had a wager going whether you'd wear blue today after all," she said, then turned to Modyn. "I win."
Modyn's only response was a twitch in his jaw while Dreyla leaned into him with a snicker. It could be that he simply enjoyed Modyn's displeasure far more than was reasonable, but Teldryn found he felt lighter all of a sudden.
A stream of curious nobles filed through the dock, receiving their greetings from the Councilors along the way. From his place at the end of the line, Teldryn heard surnames he recognized, first names he didn't, and encountered faces that clearly measured him to be a personal guard as they passed by. It could not have worked out any better, in his opinion.
An unmistakable voice rose above the surrounding chatter, his full and melodic timbre becoming all the more distinct as he neared. "...the offshoot that resides between two peaks, one of ice and one of fire..." The crowd parted for the Armiger as he walked, speaking to no one in particular as if it were his duty to narrate the procession. "Where ash drifts 'neath Nordic pine, restless silt given of the ancient sire." He paused a short distance from Modyn, contemplating the horizon that reflected its light within the glass ornaments of his gorget. He then turned to his son, advancing with no regard for any others around. "Tell me," he said. "How deep do the roots go?"
"Sun'Ata," Modyn replied, unfazed. "It is my honor to welcome you to Raven Rock."
"Indeed," he said in agreement. "And this must be the girl." The Armiger held out his hands, enveloping hers with both as he bowed his head. Modyn opened his mouth to make an introduction only to be thwarted by his father interrupting, "Dreyla Alor. Daughter of Fethis and the late Iman Alor." He raised his head with a smirk. "Gher neen, sun'jul. I have heard only good things."
Modyn sighed, motioning toward the man half-heartedly. "My father, Dayn Veleth."
Before she could make a reply, Dayn's eyes slid to Teldryn. "B'vek, is it so?" he said as he dropped her hands and stepped closer, his gaze sharpening in keen study. "Gahareg." The smirk widened. "Such irony. Hardly a drop of Redoran left in you." He settled back on his heels. "Except for your father's face. A true ashlander incarnation."
Prodding already, he hadn't changed a bit. Teldryn raised one brow. "Anything else?"
"Without a doubt," he said plainly, indicating toward Teldryn's tattoos with his finger. "What did you do to earn that? Surely, not what you did to Selvilo?"
"No." Teldryn schooled his face into a show of indifference. "I got something else for that." His fate was now sealed, judging by the gleam in Dayn's eyes. He'd be cornered sooner rather than later. He would continue his current game of dangling morsels in front of a hungry nix-hound except he caught sight of black hair, streaked with silver more pronounced than he remembered, twisted high around sticks ornamented with dangling rubies. The high collar of her deep red cloak obscured all but her eyes and the sharp lines of her profile as she turned to monitor the progress of a rather lengthy trail of floating trunks, cases, and even a tray of seedlings. Where the others had hired help to carry their effects, she moved alone with one raised hand, her things tethered to the singular thread of her command. He might have thought her an apparition but for the very present pang in his gut the moment her eyes cut to him and the knot in his throat that he swallowed as she looked away, her polite attention drawn to Councilor Morvayn's greeting.
"You look like a whipped pup already," Dayn remarked with plenty of amusement. "She's your mother, Teldryn," he added, gentler in tone. "And you'll always feel guilty about it." Teldryn managed to pull his eyes from her then, meeting Dayn's steady gaze. Aside from any enjoyment gained from his exchanges with the Armiger, he remembered now how they never failed to leave him stripped raw in some way.
Dayn broke contact first. "Nala!" he called boisterously. "Come, come!"
She deliberately finished greeting Cindiri, pausing for only the slightest of moments. There was no question that she'd heard Dayn and whether it was that or the fact that Modyn's mother had not finished a very thorough assessment of her son, she acquiesced and skipped the rest of the line.
He caught her eyes as she approached, inwardly congratulating himself for not shifting on his feet.
"Your son here boasts the mark of the Dark Warrior," Dayn informed her. "Did you know about this?"
"Of course." Her gaze didn't flinch, as if it had never left him since that night in the courtyard.
I wondered when this day would come.
Dayn hummed skeptically. "Did you really?"
She cast Dayn a look that would wither a lesser being, and he returned an expectant one as if he deserved an answer. For all his gifts of insight, the old Armiger didn't know when to quit.
"Dayn!" his wife barked, getting right up under his nose. "Really. This is not the place. Talk later, will you?"
"Yes, yes. Fine," he said, petulantly batting at her hands as she tried to hasten him along. "Later." He pointed at Teldryn. "And none of that typical Sero caginess. Be prepared to give me a good story."
Teldryn watched as Dayn carried on into town, squinting with equal amounts of cringe and amusement when he directed Modyn to introduce him to a beggar to patronize. When he turned back to his mother, he saw that she shared a similar mixture of emotions, with perhaps a tinge more acerbic edge.
The smallest of sighs escaped through her nose. "It has been a taxing journey."
"I can imagine," he said with a chuckle. At that, her expression softened to something decidedly less peevish. It really was good to see her.
"Ahem."
It was Arano, who seemed to gain an excessive amount of pleasure from rote propriety judging by his swelled chest. Truly, this morning must have been euphoric.
"Muthsera," he said with a bow of his head. He swept his hand to the side, bringing their attention to the cargo waiting patiently mid-air. "May our hands assist in moving your effects to the manor?"
"If you must," she said tightly, relenting control of the suitcases as awed servants grasped the handles of each one. He observed his mother, the very image of calm composure, as she presided over her rather sizable parade of invaluable possessions. It was the way she pinched her fingers together as the servants adjusted their grips that gave her away, and the twitching furrow in her brow that framed her watchful eyes. Arano had scurried off to make his gallant show elsewhere, thankfully, so Teldryn approached to be her escort. Just as he reached out to touch her arm, a harsh rattling of glass from the front caused his mother to heave forward in a crimson flurry toward the offender. The one carrying her seedlings had bumped into something, the unfortunate soul.
"S'wit!" she hissed, her cloak settling around her like a predators wings after catching its prey. "You would do well to have some care. I have cultivated these longer than you've drawn breath." The tender leaves swayed as the wide-eyed boy trembled. "Allow me..." The tray floated from his arms as she raised one hand, with her other beckoning Teldryn. "Take this, daelkhun'yi."
She was nearing her limit and something about that made him walk with a pace just leisurely enough to maintain her current tilt. He arrived just in time to receive both the tray and her warning.
"I've only just arrived, Teldryn, and I'm showing considerable restraint."
"Yes, alma." He tipped his head. "I know."
She fastened her veil over her mouth and withdrew into her cloak. "I'll be relieved to get settled."
"This way," he replied, turning to lead her to the manor.
From her perch on one of Geldis' brewing barrels, Vanya snacked on the apple she'd picked up just before the kitchen was forcibly taken over by a very demanding dunmer chef and his battalion of underlings. Niyya sat on the barrel next to her, wiping her hands clean of saltrice flour since her baking had been abruptly halted. Though neither of them could understand the words that bounced between Geldis and the intruding chef, the energy and body language conveyed clearly that they were in sharp disagreement. Poor Geldis seemed to be losing though, as the kitchen was quickly being appropriated by its new staff who were loading crates of curious ingredients onto all the open surfaces.
Niyya leaned in, speaking under her breath. "You know what I heard?"
"What did you hear," Vanya drawled.
"Firstly, I didn't catch his name," she began, motioning toward the chef. "But I heard that they call him Gahvehrumag- to his face." She shielded her mouth as she whispered. "And Hlavehrumag to his back."
Vanya grimaced, doubting that pronunciation. "Um, so what does that mean?"
"Oh," Niyya frowned. "I was kinda hoping you would know. You're the one sleeping with a dunmer, after all."
"Okay," Vanya laughed. "But that's not how learning a language works."
Niyya shrugged, "It was worth a try. I'll ask Sadesi when she's finished putting Llero down."
Their attention cut back to the confrontation as the chef's pitch elevated to ear-splitting levels, his arms flailing in ways that seemed a language in itself. Finally, he dismissed Geldis with a flip of his hands.
Oh, shit. She couldn't even imagine Geldis fighting mad but he looked pretty damn close.
Niyya hopped off of her barrel, probably looking to avoid whatever came next. "Vanya, come on," Niyya urged, taking her hand. She didn't pull away, though she made no move to go either, far too enthralled in seeing this play out.
It started with a slow shake of the head, followed by his entire body heaving with pulses of fury. Each time it look as if he would speak, he gnashed his teeth instead. Distantly in her mind, Vanya heard the whistling of a tea kettle. He raised his hand and she held her breath, only to release it in confusion as Geldis finished his incensed display with a violent wagging of his finger in the chef's imperious face.
Niyya's grip on her hand tightened as Geldis turned on his heel. "Out!" he ordered, marching their way. Vanya could only half believe he was talking to them- and so harshly! She was fully convinced when he started waving his arms. "Out! Go on!"
He stormed down the hallway as she hastily scrambled off the barrel and she and Niyya shuffled from the kitchen under the equally bewildered watch of the invading kitchen staff.
"What..." Niyya said as they leaned on the bar, ignoring inquisitive looks from the patrons. Vanya shrugged at the unfinished thought, completing it in her head. ..the hell was that?
Soon, Sadesi was ushered out cradling a drowsy Llero in her arms. Geldis was speaking in rapid-fire guttural Dunmeri by now, and Sadesi's scandalized chirping was not necessary to know he was saying things that would likely curdle milk. Vanya shook her head helplessly when Sadesi looked to her for answers. Together they all turned to the barkeep for an explanation. Only he was half-way across the tavern.
"Wait, Geldis!" Niyya cried, taking off after him.
"Morvayn will hear about this!" he bellowed. "I don't ask for much around here and this is what I get? I don't care if that fetcher has to serve a banquet to The Three to save his soul, that's my kitchen!" Niyya tried to get his attention fruitlessly through his tirade all the way up the stairs until they were out the door, leaving silence in their wake.
Slowly as they stood there, the patrons went back to their business and activity in the kitchen picked up. Llero groaned and stretched, causing Sadesi to readjust so that he was sitting on her hip. "What am I to do now? I had just gotten him to sleep."
Vanya craned to peek through the doorway to the kitchen. "We could probably go back in-"
"No," Sadesi countered irritably. "he locked the bedrooms."
Vanya leaned her back against the edge of the bar, putting her palm to her forehead where some pressure was building. Why? Why?
She supposed it made sense, frustrating though it was. Who wouldn't be a little wary of a band of slightly hostile strangers making themselves at home in one's private quarters?
"What about..." she looked over her shoulder down the hall. "my room..." It was her first instinct to offer the empty bed, despite some major misgivings. Starting with the fact that it wasn't really hers.
"Oh no," Sadesi said quickly. "We won't impose on Teldryn. No," her face flushed a shade darker. "No, no."
Well, that was a relief. "Right," Vanya nodded. "Ummm..." They both knew the rest of the rooms were taken as well, seeing as the inn was at capacity due to the passengers from the boat who weren't high class enough to have lodging with their fellow nobility. Geldis had even turned some away- the last unfortunate few to disembark- so even space in any of the group housing was going to be hard to come by.
"Let me down!" Llero pushed at his mother's chest, kicking his legs to emphasize his desire. Sadesi set his feet on the floor, deftly snatching his hand as he tried his best to dodge. Whether or not he would get his nap today, they just needed a place where he couldn't run off, that was all.
Sadesi sighed. "Let's just go to-"
"-Milore's house," Vanya finished, their eyes meeting with instantaneous agreement. And just in time, as a curious patron approached looking as if he needed something.
"We're closed today!" Sadesi said curtly, accepting Vanya's arm over her shoulder. He asked something in Dunmeri, and Sadesi replied in kind, with a tone of finality as they moved toward the stairwell. It was torture to not be able to move faster since she could feel the disgruntled customer's eyes on the back of her head. At least he had the good graces to leave it at that.
She could say that this had turned out to be a strange day, although that felt laughably inaccurate. Was it really so strange? Or just a variation on a normal she had yet to fully recognize? Whatever it was, it had her sitting on a chaise in the foyer of Dreyla's new home, Llero's hand clasped tightly in hers to prevent him leaving a trail of fingerprints on many expensive looking items. She already felt that the clothing she wore might sully the decadent violet fabric of the seat, so she didn't mind that the child had chosen to lay on the floor, playing some game with himself that involved mumbling incoherently while gesturing in the air with his legs. Dunmer workers hurried back and forth, setting up side tables with flower pots, filling shadowboxes with exotic carved trinkets, straightening carpets and hanging tapestries. If they had anything to say as they cast lofty glances her direction, they refrained from making those thoughts known. And that was right, she thought. It was not as if she'd invited herself in.
As it turned out, Milore already had guests. A couple of cousins or a niece and nephew- or were they a married? It didn't really matter. It was clear enough that they needed to look elsewhere. She might've suggested waiting out in the market until Geldis returned as all the activity would be fun to observe. That would not be enough for Llero, though, as he had already slipped from his mother's hand once and tried to go be a part of it. Though it had hurt a little when Vanya lunged to apprehend him by the back of his shirt, this child wasn't leaving her sight. Maybe they were being a tad overbearing with him, she could admit, but his rebellion was preferable to the surge of terror that gripped her every second he was not accounted for. By the gods, it was as if he had some congenital imperative to be as close to danger as he could at all times.
The next stop would have been Bralsa. She didn't usually hang around in her room all day, so there was a good chance that would work out. Bralsa was saved the inconvenience when it was discovered that Sadesi was promptly needed at Dreyla's house. The gasping dunmer girl who'd informed them of this had been on the hunt for the seamstress, as Dreyla had requested her help personally knowing she'd worked with the designer of the wedding dress. Apparently, the try on was not going well and the attendant sent to help with fitting was less than competent.
And so, behind a door across from where Vanya waited, an attempt was being made to salvage the bride from a meltdown. And adjust the dress, too, she figured. From a deep recess in her mind, she remembered that her own dress had been the most delicate blush pink.
It hardly registered when a worker grumbled as he walked by, but she felt the sharp resentment all the same. They all really needed to get over themselves. These people were the strangers, not her. Dreyla was her friend, and they were fortunate for that fact. She had half a mind to let Llero loose with a sweetroll for all the snooty attitude they were projecting. On the flipside, she and the boy must be quite the spectacle, crippled pair that they were. She blew air through her lips as she rested her chin in the heel of her hand. Maybe she would just stretch out across the chaise and get comfortable, after all.
Just then, the door opened and Sadesi poked her head out. "Vanya, come," she said as she beckoned with one hand. Curious, Vanya pushed to her feet, tugging the boy up with her. After a rough couple of steps, and a few disapproving huffs from those navigating the foyer, Sadesi thankfully remembered herself and came out to lend her arm.
"How's it going?" Vanya asked in a low tone.
Sadesi tutted with exasperation. "I am reminded why I left Blacklight."
"Oh." Vanya swallowed.
"But Dreyla asked for you," Sadesi stated as they reached the door.
"What for?" Though she did want to know, there really wasn't a single thing about this pending encounter that she could count as anywhere close to ideal.
"I couldn't say. She heard you were here and wanted to see you."
Vanya felt a rise of unexpected warmth. She pulled Llero nearer, a small smile tugging at her lips as Sadesi opened the door.
