(A/N: I think this is the longest chapter I've written so far. yee. :3 In this iteration of Skyrim, EVRYTHING is larger. Don't be surprised if my descriptions of some buildings may be different and, well, lorger. I feel so cramped by the lack of actual indoor space in a lot of Skyrim cities. Give me meandering castles like the atmoran ruins god damnit! Anyhow, enjoy the story, and please let me know what you think of it! I appreciate all of your reviews so much. I only own my OCs. :
Also, Shout out to Borichu and QueenKelsey for commenting again on AO3! yor coments fuel yee writin goblimn heuehueheh)
After the debacle over supper yesterday, Rho'jita feared punishment for admonishing the Headmaster over the potatoes, but none came, and he even complimented her on them afterwards. She thanked him profusely while up to her armpits in dirty dishes and water. As promised, Viarmo started Rho'jita in classes the next week, but he himself did not have much to do with any of the schooling, which she wasn't sure to be surprised by or not. Her teachers were all varying types, and while she cannot deny their musical genius, she found them hard to follow, and could not for the life of her grasp how to read sheet music, much to their chagrin. However, she found her talent in playing-by-ear, quickly picking up the flute like she had played it before. (oh but you have though) That seemed to appease her teachers to some degree, and she quietly learned as best she could beside the other pupils in her off-hours not in the kitchens. Until today, when they went over "The Dragonborn Comes" after lunch that day.
The worn bone flute (not a flute it's almost a recorder) felt heavy and familiar in her hands as she stared down at the innocuous little thing. Rho'jita had gone two weeks without an episode but for some reason, playing the flute was picking her brain in an uncomfortable manner, and sending her thoughts into the jumbled crescendo of a breakdown.
She could not tear her eyes away from the flute(recorder) and she had not for the past hour. Her eyes burned. She could not remember the last time she blinked. She did not know what about this was reminding her of something but it picked her brain and she almost could reach it almost almost please come back i want to reme mber jus tlet me rem ember pl ease letm ere me mb-
"Rogie!" A clear voice cut through her spiral of madness, breaking the dark Khajiit from her hallucination to look up towards the door of the servants' quarters. A mop of silver hair entered her vision as the rather large student Delilah raised her eyebrow at the furred woman. "You gonna stare at your flute all day or you gonna come help prepare for the burning of the effigy?" Her voice carried an annoyed tone to it.
Rho'jita swallowed thickly, her throat parched, and nodded mutely. Didn't trust herself to talk. Her mantra floated around in her head, jumbled as it was, I will not fear, it is the mind killer, fear is the little death... I will permit it to pass over me and through me... The flute was placed in her over-the-shoulder bag, a tool(gift?) from Bendt to help with running for ingredients. She rose, several cracks sounding from her various joints as they settled back into place. Inwardly, she cringed. (why aren't there more desk jobs in skyrim?) Outwardly, Delilah cringed.
"This one will come and help, she has just, I," She scoffed, wiping at her stinging eyes and taking a deep breath to collect herself, "this reminds her of home." Rho'jita mumbled her lame excuse, but Delilah blessedly accepted it and led the dark Khajiit from the servants' quarters. She followed the towering Nord lady through the still-confusing halls of the college. Some day she'll get the layout straight; half the time she ends up in the students quarters instead of the servants when stumbling tired after dinner cleanup. Once she even made it as far as laying down next to Illdi, the timid Nord screeching in surprise when she turned over. What a rude way to wake a sleeping Khajiit.
Delilah rounded a corner and stepped down a flight of stairs, opening a heavy wooden-and-iron door. Rho'jita paused to admire the ironwork, tracing the pads of her fingers on the worn metal handle, smooth and shined from years of use. The blacksmith responsible had left a delicate hammered finish to the iron, like what you'd see done with a ball-peen.
"Hey, Rogie, get your head out of the sky! Solitude isn't at cloud level." Her new friend's rough chuckle jerked Rho'jita from her thoughts yet again, as well as a hand gently curling around her elbow. Delilah was considerate; she knew her strength and when to reserve it, especially regarding a certain fragile catperson. Rho'jita was dazed, blinking her amber eyes owlishly in the dappled sunlight of the courtyard. The first leaves had burst forth from their buds upon the trees, and the heady scent of Spring's first flowers clouded the air. Rho'jita allowed herself a tiny cat sneeze.
"Eh, sorry Delilah, I was just admiring the ironwork." Rho'jita allowed herself to be led along by the larger woman towards the firepit, where Bendt was just barely setting up the roasting spits. Rho'jita ditched her shoulder bag beside the oak serving table and hurried with nimble steps to the other side of the roasting spit, guiding the rotating portion through the appropriate hole on the stand. As far as Rho'jita had observed, Bendt's eyesight was not the best and Rho'jita had seen enough of him struggling with the metal spits to know when the older gentleman might need a spare hand.
"Nice of you to join us," Bendt grumped in lieu of greeting. Rho'jita just smiled a kitty smile and assembled the rest of the cooking apparatus. "You can go ahead and get washed up; Headmaster requested ya ta make that garlic 'n frost mirriam potatoes, but a LOT of 'em."
"Okidasies," The dark Khajiit replied, fiddling with the fire that burned under the spits and pot hangars. Wouldn't do to have a cooking place with no fire after all. Then what Bendt told her to do finally got through her thick skull and she got up to go do that. Bendt was left staring in perplexity after the honest-to-Gods insane Khajiit, mouthing the word, "o-kee-day-sees?"
The preparations for the festival had met a lull, and Rho'jita found herself with several hours until sundown and nothing at the College to occupy them with. She returned to her bed area, which contained her bed roll, backpack, sanitary items, and clothing. Not glorious was the life of a scullery maid, but, she had a roof over her head, food in her belly, and coin in her purse. Speaking of the last, she still had to barter off her wares acquired from the Caravan stash. She couldn't sell all of it at once, no, she would be much too tempted by the large sum of gold to go spend it all. Better to have goods you can use than gold you can spend. However, she heard through the grapevine that Sybille Stentor was looking for some cheap trinkets to try some new enchantments on, and booooooooy did she have a fuckton of gold and silver pendants. Thank you, forgetful Ma'draan, for this blessing. Into her shoulder bag they went. Along with a dusty set of Apprentice robes; maybe Sybille could use the enchantment upon them? In they went. Rho'jita continued rustling through her items before unearthing a slip of paper. She blinked in confusion as she read it, for it bore her name on one side. She set down the goblet in her left hand and took the paper in both hands, before flipping it over. It read;
"Go to the dark-scaled Argonian dock worker at the Winking Skeever with these goods. Call him Gajul-lei and give him my fondest regards and all my love. -Aki'la"
Blink blink. Confusion. The name at the end of the note bounced around in her head; isn't that who the woman in Dragon Bridge mistook her for? Maybe this Gajul-Lei will know. Rho'jita shrugged to herself and jammed the note into her bag as well; guess Sybille isn't getting those trinkets. She stuffed a few more odds and ends in, things like armor that she would never fit into and soul gems that creeped her out. Once her bag was suitably packed, but not overflowing, she slung it across her shoulders and proceeded outside. Rho'jita could see the shadows lengthening, bringing their gentle early Spring bite, nipping at her pawpads through her thin sandals. Her feet carried her towards the Winking Skeever leisurely, taking time to appreciate the architecture of Solitude. It reminded her of... of...?
"No lollygaggin', Khajiit." The rough voice of the city Guardsman shook her from her thoughts. She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly, explained she was admiring the architecture, then continued on her way. Best to just go to the task at hand and not give self time to think. She kept her eyes firmly on the path ahead of her, until she found herself in front of her friends' establishment. Rho'jita smiled as the thought crossed her head; yes, the Vinius' family were her friends, weren't they? She liked them quite a lot, they did not mind how her mind wanders by itself and she loses track of her sentence halfway through it. (adhd as heck) wait what?
Rho'jita was jostled slightly by a rather wide Nord man, with a muttered, "Watch where you're standing." as he entered the establishment. For the second time in the past ten minutes she was pushed about for taking up space. (seems the prejudice never went away, everyone was just forced to deal with it) She sighed and entered the building, almost immediately being accosted by the youngest Vinius, Minette. Telran had introduced them before he set out on his travels again, and the two precocious souls connected instantly. Telran tasked Rho'jita with checking in on the girl every so often while he was away. Speaking of, Rho'jita caught the exuberant child midway through her leap and let out a rather pained wheeze as several joints protested loudly in the form of pops. Minette did not seem to notice, for her mouth was running a mile a minute,
"Rogierogierogierogiedoyouknowanythingthatsreallyannoying?!" Came the babbled rushing brook of words from the child's mouth. It momentarily crossed Rho'jita's mind to reply that it was clinging to her right now, but Minette didn't really mean to hurt her from her tackles and hugs and picking up the Khajiit that was honestly nearly level in height with the child. Minette was little more than a hand's-width shorter, but the little tyke made up for it in sheer strength and determination.
"Before this one tells you, why are we needing the annoyance?" Queried the dark Khajiit as she set the child down, who once again resumed her fountain of words. Rho'jita only caught every one or two words as Minette led her to the family's table by the bar; no matter how full the establishment, there was always a table for them, and they added a seat for Rho'jita upon Minette's insistence. The two sat down, and Rho'jita had gotten most of the gist. Minette was getting back at Sorex for being, well, Sorex, and ruining some of her precious alcohol. Rho'jita asked for a few moments to ponder, resting her chin on her knuckles, elbow on the table, legs crossed. Eyes crossed as well, and Minette joked that she could see steam coming from her Dwemer brain pipes. Rho'jita grinned. "I have just the idea for you, miss Minette. Do you happen to have, say, two to three other children who would like to sing a very silly, annoying song?" Minette nodded. "Good, now here is how it goes..."
After teaching Minette everything she needed to know for Mission: Annoy-Sorex, Rho'jita watched Minette dash out of the inn, presumably to rally and recruit other crotchgoblins for the plan. Ah, yes, another generation with the knowledge of the song that has no end. She smiled to herself, a little proud. Rho'jita stood and ordered a stew and a mead from Corpulus at the bar, where Rho'jita gave him hearty notice of Minette's plan. Corpulus just seemed amused, and simply said,
"Good, she needs the outlet." Rho'jita chose not to comment, just to eat her food in peace. Whilst she snorfed it down, her eyes scanned the rest of the tables, looking for- honestly, are there any Argonians around Solitude? She's only seen one other betmer and that was another Argonian traveling trader that knew Telran. Then again, this is a very large city, and she hadn't had much time to explore or meet new people. She didn't see him right away, so she took her time finishing her mead.
As she was knocking back the last swallow of her drink, she saw a scaled head poke itself out of a shadowy corner to order something from a passing Sorex. Rho'jita made note of the corner, then took her dishes behind the bar to the wash. Corpulus gave protests, as he always did, but Rho'jita waved them off. He gave her free food just for being friendly with his family, the least she could do was wash the dishes she used. In fact, she washed the rest of the dishes and left them to try in a patch of merry sunlight streaming in through a window. Drying her fur on her apron, she realized she never took it off after leaving the college. Oops. As she emerged from the bar, she thanked Corpulus once more for the delicious food, picking her bag up from her chair, then taking a meandering path towards the shadowy corner.
"Excuse me, s-" Rho'jita started, but was rather rudely cut off by the tense Argonian.
"I have no business with you." He grit out, hand tightening on his mug of ale. Rho'jita took a startled step back at the sudden aggression. (this guy needs to get the stick out of his ass, asap)
"Apologies. Khajiit was just looking for one by the name of Gajul-le-" Again she was rudely interrupted by a scaled hand covering her mouth. She was briefly reminded of the texture of chickens feet. She resisted the urge to lick the hand. The Argonian essentially bustled her into the other chair at his shady little table. Rho'jita would probably be more concerned if she was not in the Winking Skeever, but as she was, she let him shush and scootch her.
"Hush! Don't say that so loud, and where did you hear that name?!" The Argonian- apparently, Gajul-lei?- hissed quietly across the table, knuckles losing color from gripping his mug too hard. (is this guy on crack, he's paranoid 'nuff) Rho'jita leaned back in her chair away from the spooky lizard.
"Sorry," Rho'jita continued in a hushed voice, "This one learned of the name from this note." She slowly, but deliberately, retrieved the note from her bag, placing it on the table. Gajul-lei's eyes watched her every motion. His eyed fixated on the scrap of paper, reading the text once, twice, three times. Then looked back up at Rho'jita with those eyes that reflected the same shade of amber, the same depth of lost knowledge, lost memories. And hope. His posture relaxed some, his grip slackening. He heaved a sigh of relief, and perhaps a tinge of longing.
"I'm glad you're back. Where did you wake up this time?" He asked.
The next thing Rho'jita knew, she was being slapped broad across the face by a worried Sorex, whilst she was laying on the floor. Gajul-lei and Corpulus were leaning over her, with varying amounts of worry and confusion. She groaned, working her jaw back into place- that's going to be sore, did she grind her teeth?- and leaning back up. Her head hurt and things looked fuzzy. After being helped back into her chair by Sorex and Corpulus, she had mostly gotten her bearings back. The lingering taste of bile tinged the back of her throat sour. Sorex dropped Gajul-lei's ale off, and some water for Rho'jita. Gajul-lei was frowning, but was obviously thinking rather hard.
"Think any harder and I will hear some Dwemer cogs turning." Rho'jita said, almost without thinking. Gajul-lei startled from his thoughts, staring at her with that recognition from before in his eyes.
"Well, that proves it, you're still you, in spirit. I...don't think it's wise for me to tell you how I know you, judging from the reaction you had." Gajul-lei said, and again, Rho'jita was confused as heck. She nodded in acceptance, though, taking a sip of her water. Her head pulsed, as if in warning.
"I think that's wise." Rho'jita assented, "But, I... I'd like to know something, at some time. I don't remember much of my life, a-and everything gets so confusing in my head." Gajul-lei looked at her in pity. As if he'd seen this before. Supposing he did know her, she then assumed he would have handled this from her previously.
"In time, when you are more...stable. You are much too...ah, fresh would be the word." Both of them were silent for more than a few moments. Gajul-lei broke the silence with a simple statement. "You have goods for me to fence. Just leave them below the table." Rho'jita did so. "Where are you staying?"
"Bards' college. This one is scullery maid."
Gajul-lei's countenance broke into a grin, and he barked out laughter, "Of course you'd become a cook at a music school." He shook his head, as if it was some great joke. Rho'jita was again left with a naggingly familiar but confused feeling. Gajul-lei's voice dropped back to a near whisper again, "Forget I said that, that's not important. The important part is that you stay nearby to Solitude, and don't call too much attention to yourself from, well, anyone. I can't explain to you why, but just...keep doing what you're doing. I will have your bag returned to the college tonight."
"I'll try. Khajiit is...always so confused." Rho'jita mumbled the last part into her water cup. Gajul-lei reached out and patted the top of her hand that rested on the table.
"I will do my best to tell you of your history when possible. I think your mind is still healing from... nevermind." Gajul-lei withdrew his hand, then started to pay attention to the food in front of him. Rho'jita took that as her cue to leave. She bade him good afternoon, and exited the Skeever, head still reeling from the whole experience, a feeling not unlike being so drunk you didn't know your ass from a hole in the ground. She felt like she wanted to go crouch behind the rocks and puke into the sewer again. But instead of that, Rho'jita wandered back to the college and sat down with Bendt at the firepits. He made no comment of her early appearance, but handed her a bowl with a brush in it, full of honey glaze.
"Get to work on the ham," Bendt commanded, and Rho'jita was once again grateful that Bendt was a man of few words, she complied.
Later that evening, as the burning of King Olaf was starting to wrap up, Rho'jita could hear a familiar strain of music reach her ears. She looked towards the entrance to the courtyard, to the street, and saw Sorex jogging with his fingers shoved into his ears. Behind him, four children were following him and singing at the top of their voice, repeatedly,
"This is the song that doesn't end, yes it goes on and on my friend! Some people started singing it not knowing what it was, but they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that doesn't end..." Their voices faded into the background noise of the festival, yet Rho'jita was still laughing, wheezing for breath. Good to know Minette's mission went well.