Ugh. She couldn't believe he just ate that bug like that. Vanya shuddered as she sat on the edge of the bed, running her comb through her hair as she waited for Teldryn to return from taking the last of the dishes to the kitchen. Sure, by now she could say she'd eaten her fair share of bug meat, but like...that was an actual bug. With a shell that he had to crack. The comb caught a snag and she winced. She probably needed another haircut soon. Or maybe she'd grow it out. Ow. Another snag. Or maybe she'd shave it all off. If Teldryn's mohawk was called a crescent moon, what would a bald head be? A full moon?

She snickered to herself, still a little tipsy from all the wine. Her mind careened down its silly path, finally making her giggle out loud when she imagined the mullet taking Nirn by storm. She was smiling when Teldryn entered the room and she gasped in surprise when she saw the half-eaten biscuit in his hand.

"You're still eating?"

"Still?" He frowned, closing the door. "Supper was hours ago." He consumed the remaining half in one bite, chewing as he headed for his armor that he'd removed earlier. He lifted his waterskin from the belt, bringing it to his lips for a long drink. A deep sigh followed as he tossed it back down. "It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it," she groused, still picking through the last of her hair with the comb.

"I'm done telling anyone anything," Teldryn said firmly, making Vanya grin. Sometimes she really couldn't tell if he was being serious. He fell onto the bed at an angle with an exaggerated groan. Vanya nearly commented that he was taking up too much space but he spoke first. "Although, I do have something to ask."

She set the comb down on the nightstand and shifted toward him, curious.

He was rubbing he eyes with his fingers. "All the wedding shit is starting tomorrow, and the first thing is this banquet called an advent."

Oh. She had honestly hoped that he'd wouldn't say anything about that. She wasn't going to lie to him, she had decided already. Mostly, she'd figured she wouldn't have to.

"Ummm...yeah," she said. "Dreyla mentioned something about it..."

"Ah, good," he pulled his fingers away and glanced at her, then rested his forearm back over his eyes to block the light. "I imagine you are concerned with what to wear but I've already thought of that. My mother has brought enough clothing that you'd think she was staying through the season."

She stared at him in disbelief. Now she knew he couldn't be serious.

She tested the waters. "Do you actually think she'd let me wear something of hers?"

"I don't see why not," he said plainly. "You're taller, but I'm sure something of hers would fit."

He was being serious. She stewed silently for a moment as he laid there. The vibe she'd been getting all day made it really obvious why not. Was he ignoring it on purpose? Maybe she had been too, on some subconscious level. But it was abundantly clear now. No one had looked at Sadesi with the same contempt as they did her, Modyn sent Teeba-Ei, Scout and all the others away and according to Geldis, Hlavehrumag had said some pretty nasty things about his choice of staff. Her face grew hot as his breathing relaxed, completely serene. Like he didn't give a shit that they were a bunch of fucking racists.

She took a deep breath before speaking, steadying her fury. "Teldryn. First of all, you never actually asked me a question."

He lowered his arm and blinked a few times at the sudden change in tone. His eyes slid to her.

"And second," she spat. "If I wore something of your mother's, she'd probably want to burn it afterward." She turned from him and scooted toward the edge of the bed, fuming. She didn't want to hear his arguments or justifications, or that she just 'didn't understand'. There were a lot of things she didn't understand, but this wasn't one of them. The mattress shifted as he raised up to sit beside her and if it were easier for her to get to her feet, she would get up and leave right now.

"You have my attention, Vanya," he said, measured. "So tell me about your day."

His gaze was hard, the anger behind it quickly spurring her desire to hedge. She fought it, steeling herself under his stare. She couldn't tell if any of his anger was for her, but she had promised herself she'd be straight with him.

She probably shouldn't have said that about his mother.

"Well, uh..." she began, her eyes dropping involuntarily. "When I was at Dreyla's today, she talked to me for a little bit. Have you been in there, by the way? The decorations in that place are insane." She bit her lip, scolding herself for the diversion. "Modyn's mother was there and she uh, well, Dreyla asked me if- if you asked me to come to the advent, if I would say no."

The silence was deafening, though she could feel him bristling.

"Is that so?" he breathed, causing her to look at him finally. Oh, he was pissed. But not at her. For her. And she'd seen that before.

Her skin prickled as he got up, heading for the door.

"Woah, Teldryn," she clumsily pushed to her feet. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to inform the princess on a few things."

"Wait, you said you were done telling- ow!" She nearly tripped as her ankle rolled, causing him turn around and meet her in the middle of the room.

"Don't follow me, you'll hurt yourself." He gently supported her arms, trying to return her to the bed. "I'll be right back."

She gripped the front of his shirt, pushing back. "Listen to me, Teldryn. I'm fine. Dreyla is under a lot of stress right now, alright? Don't add to it. I don't want to add to it." He knit his brow and she insisted, "I know it's not right and you want to fix it for me, but it's the middle of the night. Just- just let it be for now." She released his shirt, spreading her palms on his chest. "Stay. It's just a dinner."

He pulled her closer, his eyes roaming her face, though they stayed oddly sharp. One hand raised up to caress the ends of her hair near her collar. "Would you like to hear my question?"

She nodded. He began moving toward the bed, using his body to nudge her backward.

"Do you want to attend the advent with me?"

She stared into his eyes for a moment and before she could reply he added, "And not do you think it's a good idea, not do you have something to wear, not do you think you'll like the food." She sat down on the edge of the mattress and he crouched in front of her. "Do you want to be there. With me."

Even if she wanted to protest, he'd just cut off any arguments she might have come up with. But she wasn't going to lie. Not to herself, and not to him. Her eyes burned as she answered, "Yes."

He stood with a faint smirk. He wasn't amused. "I'm glad to hear it."

She stayed still, stunned, as he left the room. When she heard the click of the lock she fell over onto the pillow. That stupid, stubborn man! She didn't know if she wanted to cry, or scream, or laugh. She was definitely cringing at the idea of him storming into Modyn's house and bringing the roof down on them. Why couldn't it have waited until morning? Ugh!

She had to admit, though, that she kind of wished she could see it.

The very last thing he wished to be doing right now was marching across the market toward Modyn's house. Vanya had told him to stay, and she was so sweet and warm. That was precisely why he couldn't.

The legacy of prejudice among the dunmer had no bearing on him. Some he knew still carried it, others had ambitions to erase it. He participated in neither, choosing instead to rely on his own judgment as he saw fit. There had been many who judged him for what he was and who he was. In his experience, it had made them weaker, easier to manipulate.

It had never touched him, really. Such things existed for him as peripheral politics at minimum, potential tools at most. To have it reach out from within his own kin and sting her heart...

His heart. He would not bear it. Not even for the night.

Teldryn arrived at the front door, knocking briskly.

He expected some bleary eyed servant, but to his surprise it was Modyn who answered, looking every bit as disgruntled as he felt.

"By the Daedra, Teldryn," Modyn said as he turned and walked away, leaving the way open. "Why are you here?"

Teldryn swung the door shut behind him. "Not because I want to be."

Before he could say more, Modyn raised a hand to stop him. "Alright, I know that look. Just...give me a moment."

Modyn disappeared into an adjacent room, leaving Teldryn to take in the startling decor of the foyer, so lavish it made him nearly forget how angry he was. 'Insane' Vanya had called it. And far too familiar. He moseyed down the hall to look up at the landing above the stairwell that likely led to the bedrooms. What had he thought to do coming here like this? Barge in and start berating them in their bed? He scratched at his hair. Probably. Fortunately that was unnecessary, as Modyn apparently never slept.

Modyn returned to the foyer, escorting someone he did not recognize except for the red and gold sash that rested on the man's shoulders. One of the Council. "My thanks for your time, Captain," he said, turning to give a courtly bow. "Let us hope tha-" He paused, slowly straightening up as Teldryn approached.

Modyn cleared his throat. "Councilor, I don't believe you've been formally introduced. Teldryn, this is Councilor Sanvyn Llethri. Councilor, Teldryn Sero."

Llethri, huh? No wonder he wore a smirk as if he were perpetually in a hotbox of his own making.

"Well met, Teldryn," Llethri said politely. "You are a character of much speculation." The smirk curled up further. "It is good to see that you are indeed flesh and blood."

"Well met," Teldryn replied, instinct reminding him of his lack of armor- or weapons for that matter. He hadn't even strapped on his dagger.

Llethri's eyes traced his tattoos. "A champion of the great Boethiah. The Captain has told me of your decisive victory at Northshore." The Councilor folded his arms behind his back, appearing pleased. "I'm encouraged that we can count on you in this age of strife and treason."

Teldryn raised his chin slightly, looking down his nose. "My allegiances are well-placed."

"That much is clear," Lethri remarked, then turned to Modyn. "I'll be on my way as it seems there are others who urgently need your ear. Such a busy man. Please don't hesitate to request relief, Captain. Your work is so important here."

Relief would be to knock a couple of Llethri's teeth out, and Modyn's tight-lipped grin all but confirmed he felt the same. "Thank you, Councilor," he replied instead, gracious as ever.

Once the Councilor was out of the house, Teldryn mused aloud. "Llethri- as in Archmaster Llethri?"

"His son," Modyn stated as he made his way back to the room, motioning for Teldryn to join him.

Teldryn hummed as he followed. "Looks nothing like him."

"Acts nothing like him, either. Regardless, he came to me with some legitimate concerns," Modyn sighed, gathering up stacks of loose parchment that were spread out on a low table in the center of a seating area that consisted of a couch and two chairs. Teldryn perused a large bookshelf near the door as the captain continued, "This situation with the East Empire Company is only just beginning, and we're no closer to answers with the entire harbor burned to ashes. You've told me all you know of it, correct?"

The question piqued his senses. "What was he here about?" He asked as he turned around to see the captain approaching, tucking the papers into a portfolio.

"You," he said. "Enquiring after your work with Neloth...and the Dragonborn."

"If he wishes to know something , he is welcome to ask me himself."

Modyn cast him an incredulous look, nudging him aside to access the bookshelf. "You say that as if you don't make a game of feeding suspicion."

Teldryn scoffed, stepping back. "Suspicion? And what exactly is your suspicion, brother?"

"My suspicion, and Sanvyn's, is only what makes the most sense," Modyn replied as he inserted the portfolio between two identical others. "Who has the power to back the East Empire Trading Company? Certainly not the Empire as they lick their wounds." He faced Teldryn fully. "Ulfric. A brash move such as this, fresh off of victory? It fits his arrogance. Particularly with Roggir at his back. Teldryn, what was Roggir doing here?"

"I've told you much of it..."

"Yes, off-hand tales and battle-stories. That's not what I mean and you know it."

"The extent of my understanding is that he came to defeat Miraak." There had been the smallest lurking doubt as to whether Roggir truly meant to recruit Miraak, but when the Dragonborn had returned from Apocrypha alone that final time, Teldryn's mind was set at ease.

Modyn's mind, though, was decidedly uneasy. "You traveled with him for months and that is all you can say for it?"

"He paid me well to do as I was told," Teldryn replied testily, tiring of the interrogation. "I was not permitted access to his dealings with the Skaal or Neloth, save for what was mission critical. And I didn't ask questions, for precisely this reason." None of what he'd done with the Dragonborn was a secret, even if there were parts unspoken. And he simply could not speak to things he didn't know. He gave the best answer he could, "I can say that I never saw or experienced anything that made me believe otherwise about him."

"That's not going to be good enough," Modyn said, his eyes simmering precariously.

"It's the truth."

"Is it?" He stepped forward. "I have always taken you at your word, Teldryn. I want to believe you. But what I want to believe about you stops here. I wish that I could say that Sanvyn's inquiry does not have me questioning my own judgment, but it does." He hesitated, then added slowly, "Your banishment occurred forty-three years ago, yet you said it was thirty-two years since you saw your mother...

ah, fuck.

"I had a lot on my mind that day, it didn't occur to me to even consider what you were really telling me. Thirty-two years. Exactly when Selvilo had his throat cut in his bed."

He didn't even try to deflect. It was no use. "Modyn..."

His back hit the wall as Modyn pinned his chest with one hand, magicka flaring. "Shut the fuck up," he bit out through clenched teeth. Teldryn's pulse raced as he attempted to raise his hands to push Modyn off, the more energy he expended the more his muscles seized. Modyn leaned in, the pressure increasing. "Selvilo was not loved, Teldryn. Few were surprised at his murder. Your name came up..." Teldryn tried to gasp, tried to cough. Nausea gripped his gut. "But I never thought it could truly be you."

The weight on his chest lightened as Modyn stepped back, looking over his face thoughtfully. "I have spent every day since Dagon Fel trying to honor what your father taught me. Diligence, Loyalty, Duty..." His hand dropped, the magic releasing. Teldryn caught himself along the wall, the room tilting as he tried not to crumble. "Family," Modyn said finally. "You are not the only one who mourns."

Teldryn sucked in a breath, eyes seeping from the clenching in his stomach. "Is that the order?" he croaked.

Modyn chuckled dangerously. "Tread carefully, brother."

A few more tears escaped, dripping from his chin. It wasn't just nausea. "Do you want to hear it from me? I will tell it." He straightened up against the wall, rubbing his face as he collected his thoughts. Modyn was silent, probably deciding between giving him this chance or tossing him out for good.

Teldryn looked up as Modyn paced away, muttering curses under his breath. He reached a desk across the room and picked up a silver pitcher, filling a cup with water. "Come, sit," he ordered, heading for the seating area. Teldryn obeyed, making his way to the couch on legs that felt as stable as reeds of long grass. He fell into the soft cushion with a groan and was surprised to see the cup in front of his face, Modyn's stern expression yielding a hint of consolation. Teldryn accepted it.

Modyn took his seat in the chair directly across, settling back to wait for the promised explanation. Teldryn brought the cup to his lips, taking in the scene as the water soothed his throat. There had been times when he was very small that it had fallen to Modyn to administer his discipline and at the moment he rather starkly felt like he was about age five. Perhaps if he'd ever quit throwing tantrums...

"Yes, I killed General Dathus Selvilo," he began. "I stalked his house, learned his routines. He commanded armies, yet he hadn't picked up a sword in years." Teldryn sighed, scratching his nails around the sides of the tumbler. With the admission in the air, he dug deeper, throwing open other long-sealed hatches.

"The first time someone called me Gahareg after father died I wanted to stab them in the throat. He had wanted so badly for me to follow his path, and instead I made a mockery. I didn't, if you're wondering." He glanced at Modyn. "Stab anyone. Instead, I picked a direction outside the city walls and...walked. All the way to Soluthis, around to Gargen Huul and back. The long way. Took me years. Alma was livid." He raised the cup for another sip.

Modyn nodded. "I remember the missive from her during that time, inquiring after you. Said you'd vanished in the wastes."

"I did- or I wanted to. Everywhere I went, it was the same. I was the same. The arm on the other end of a bloody sword. The ashlanders were appreciative of my skills, to be sure. There is always someone or something that needs to be killed." The bottom of the cup dug into his leg as he rested his hand across the rim. "It never meant anything to me at all. Even when I slayed some of their own, some of them with whom I had shared meals. I told you of it before, though I admit in a manner more dramatic than candid." The rituals of the ashlanders could be brutal, the Erabanimsun in particular, for their accolades were not given without cost. The price was always someone's life, and he'd made sure it was never his.

"I am alive because that one is dead," Modyn said, recalling the axiom that guided so many of their customs. "I exist because I have the will to do so."

"It all meant nothing. So I always moved on. Erabanimsun, Urshilaku..." He paused, daring a fond smile. "Ahemmusa." Their quieter way of life had stirred something in him, but the longer he stayed the more their ways fit him like his netch helmet. It would always chafe.

"It was when I returned to Blacklight that the flame sparked. That the words meant something. I am not so foolish as you think, Modyn. Father's death was not personal, I know that. A soldier must stand in for their General on the battlefield, for he cannot be everywhere at once. But what about when the General is nowhere? What about when a General cannot stand in for the soldier?" He met the captains eyes, leaning forward. "I am alive because that one is dead." Water sloshed in the cup as he gestured. "Over and over. His aims were bought with blood, and not a drop of it his. Whether he knew it or not the challenge was issued. And I decided to test him. We both failed that first time, him because he was weak and me because I was drunk and let rage get ahead of my mind." Modyn raised one brow as Teldryn looked at the cup. He finished the water and set it on the floor. "It happens."

He laced his fingers together as he resettled, taking in a deep breath. "And I also know I'm not above consequences, but I was spared the worst of them. Perhaps it was Azura's mercy through my mother's pleading, or Mephala through your father's words, or Boethiah because of- I don't know- outright curiosity. but when I walked out into the wastes the second time it was not with shame in my heart." He pursed his lips, correcting himself, "Mostly. I would have rather not failed, obviously."

"Oh, Teldryn", the captain groaned, rubbed his forehead. "Teldryn, Teldryn."

"As I'm sure you've figured by now, I did not go as far as I made it sound. At least not right away." After his sentencing, it had been suggested for him to acquaint himself with the community in the Gray Quarter. He said he would. And he did, eventually. "I did not lie to you, brother, only left out the things I didn't think you should know."

"It seems that it's time I knew them," Modyn replied solemnly.

"I told you true of how I got my marks." It had been a duel. His reputation had traveled among the Erabanimsun tribes in his absence, and one of their fittest had come to test him. The warrior had waited for him. Somehow, the wise woman had known he would return. After his failure in Blacklight, he welcomed the test, bleeding through it, the warrior's dagger giving him the scars on his ribs. The very dagger he had carried since, the one that later spilled Selvilo's blood. "What I did not tell you, was how I got Foyagah."

"She was not also a reward for defeating the warrior?"

He shook his head. "After the battle, the wise woman handed me the dagger, still wet with my blood. She showed me his face, the marks on it that I had just earned. Took me to her hut, had me kneel as she wielded the needle, praising with each pin-prick that I would carry Boethiah's favor for the things that I had done. And the things that I would do. I was not born within them, she said, but strong enough to exist among them. Proven. She asked nothing of me when it was done, only to return when I had proved my heart to myself."

His eyes wandered, the extravagance of the room almost surreal. "I didn't understand, not for a long while. I stayed near, snuck in to visit Alma on occasion. As my banishment wore on, I considered redemption. Honor. But I've never really understood that either. It just sounds like compliance. It came to me though, eventually." His gaze landed on Modyn. "I suppose in many ways I am a fool, but I'm not an utter s'wit. I could not prove myself with honor, or grovel for mercy from one who wished my death. Selvilo's hate would fester, whether I was present or not. He would find me, or do what was necessary to cause me to find him. As long as he lived, Alma was in peril, so I ended it. When I returned to the wise woman, she offered me the spell. Another test, as Foyagah only answers to one that can match her ruthlessness."

Modyn's quiet stare prompted Teldryn to clarify, "You said it yourself- we made our choices long ago. Honor does not guide my blade. I cannot afford mercy. I am not Gahareg, in jest or in truth."

"So you chose exile."

"In a manner of speaking." Most days it did not feel so. Some it did. "Still, that does not mean it was easy. Before I killed him, I visited Alma one last time. Told her what I was to do, and that I could not promise I'd return."

Modyn pondered for a moment, reflecting. "It is the order of things, isn't it? It shouldn't be. But it is."

Teldryn swallowed hard, the captain's words a bitter draught. As much as he'd tried to avoid it they were one and the same. Stepping all over those around them with no regard. Modyn was better, though. Gods, at least he was aware of himself. All Teldryn had managed to do was leave a bloody trail, viciously cutting at bonds he had no right to, as if it were truly the only thing he knew.

"I understand why you never told me," Modyn said. "You did not want me to be compromised. Except that I am compromised. My closeness to you has put my loyalty into question already, and that was without you intercepting Councilor Lethri in my foyer. And if the rest of this ever gets out..."

"If it gets out," Teldryn said pointedly.

"I won't point a finger at you Teldryn, but neither will I stand in the way should the Council choose to investigate you further." The captain rested his arms on his knees as he leaned forward. "Who else knows?"

"Only you and Alma. And... probably your father, in the broadest of strokes."

Modyn breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were going to say Vanya. She's going to be a liability."

Teldryn met his eyes. "She knows nothing."

"And it had better stay that way, for her sake as much as yours. If it truly is Ulfric and Roggir at work here and you're implicated- whether an ignorant accomplice or knowing conspirator- anyone near to you will be forced to condemn you or share your fate. Your mother..." Modyn rubbed his mouth and chin before continuing, "She will never turn from you. She'll be stripped of everything, turned out. At best."

The captain got to his feet and paced slowly, deliberating. Though Teldryn no longer suffered the paralyzing spell, his chest was tight and limbs heavy. He knew what would come next.

"You must leave." Modyn said, right on cue. "Not immediately, I don't want it to look like you're running. You will attend the ceremonies as planned. The Northern Maiden is prepared to disembark just a soon as the stragglers from Northshore arrive, I expect it will be two to three days. That gives you time to make arrangements."

Arrangements. He needed mere moments to make arrangements. None of the mercenaries had seen his face, he had only to don his netch armor and lay low. Easy. What Modyn really meant was he had time to say his goodbyes.

"You pick a place, and stay there until you hear from me. Do not interfere with Roggir. Do nothing. Are you listening?" The captain paused in front of him, waiting for his acknowledgment. He nodded. "I may need your help later, I may not. Whatever I discover, it is best that you not be here." Modyn turned away with a heavy sigh. He circled the chair then stopped grasping the top tightly as if to anchor his restlessness. "Sheogorath's Beard, you've really fucked me. Why did you even come here tonight?"

Teldryn remembered now the maelstrom of wrath that had carried him here with malice seething on his tongue. Fool that he was. What an utter s'wit.

"The advent," he replied regretfully. Her face appeared in his mind, dark eyes pleading. Stay. He'd fucked that up, too. This would have all turned out the same in the end, but at least he would have had tonight. "Dreyla asked Vanya not to come," he said, figuring he'd better follow-through. "Likely at the behest of your mother."

"It looks as if she was right to, only for reasons she does not know. If Vanya attends, you put her on display for the Council to see your weakness."

Is that was she was to him? Weakness? Her presence had carved facets into him he'd never known possible, it was true. Whatever she took from him, it did not feel like weakness to give. No. If anything, it would be weakness to act as if she brought him shame. And it would be a mistake to assume their involvement would not be discovered with even the smallest bit of effort.

"If I go, she goes." He would not be without her.

Modyn set his lips in a thin line as he gazed at Teldryn. There was no judgment in his eyes, nor understanding, not even anger. "I've finally lost you."

Now he was just being cruel. Teldryn could take no more. He was done. "Rest well, Modyn," he said as he got up to leave.

Modyn said nothing.

Finally, she heard the lock turn. The door opened quietly, then clicked shut. The stillness within the room shifted almost imperceptibly. Vanya cracked open her eyes to the impenetrable dark, waiting.

She'd lost track of the time waiting, her mind drifting toward sleep only to dart back out with each tiny sound. Waiting for him. Because that was all she could do.

His hands touched her calves as he felt around to get into bed, realizing she was in his spot at the edge. She wasn't going to move. She was warm and comfortable. The bed creaked as he deftly climbed over her onto the other side. The rush of cool air when he lifted the blanket was quickly pushed out by the heat of his body as he tucked in behind her, his arms closing around her to pull her in close. His entire frame sighed around her, his breath traveling down her back as he nestled his head behind her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's alright." She brought one hand up to lace her fingers over his and his grip tightened. "You're here now."

Her eyes closed as sleep settled over her at last.