POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Past Child Abuse

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Chapter 12: One Afternoon in Ivorstead

They had arrived in Ivorstead and had stopped to rest before their trip to High Hrothgar. Hildegard was still on Izeera's shit list and Rosette and Shame seemed to be making up for lost time. Since the Imperial had joined their little group, the Altmer was smiling more often. It wasn't that sad smile, either. This time, it was a true smile that even showed in his eyes. Izeera rolled her eyes. If the middle-aged elf kept smiling like that, he'd get more smile lines on his face. To be honest, when Shame claimed to be the equivalent of forty-six, Izeera suspected that he was being generous. In her opinion, he looked to be a little closer to fifty. Forty-eight or forty-nine would be more accurate. Then again, some people's faces showed their age faster than others. Regardless of his actual age, he definitely looked old enough to be the Dragonborn's father. However, Izeera had the hunch that within the next month, his relationship with the young woman would be anything but paternal. The group was sitting at a table in the inn. Shame was drinking water, not wanting to be hung over during their trip up the mountain. Rosette looked at Izeera before looking back to Shame. "Edrian." she said quietly.

"What is it?" Shame asked.

"Izeera, she seems to know things before they happen. Is she precognitive?" Rosette asked.

Shame took a quiet sip of his water before replying, "I wouldn't necessarily call it precognition. She doesn't see the future. Izeera, well, she just has hunches about what's going to happen. Her hunches are almost never wrong. I'm not sure how it works. I think it's just an Izeera thing."

The door to the inn opened and a young man walked in. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm looking for Nirosa Mireth."

Rosette cleared her throat awkwardly and said, "That would be me."

The messenger gave Rosette an odd look before handing the letter to her. She looked to see that Izeera and Hildegard were giving her funny looks. "Nirosa Mireth sounds like a Dark Elf name." Hildegard said. "Why would you say that's you?"

"Well," Rosette said awkwardly, "Rosette is just a nickname that Edrian gave me. Before then, everybody called me Rosa. My real name is Nirosa Mireth."

"You are an Imperial." Izeera said. "Why do you have a Dunmer name?"

Rosette looked at Shame helplessly. The Altmer sighed and said, "It's because Rosette's father was a Dunmer."

Izeera took a quick look at Rosette and finally noticed it. Her ears, though the about size of an Imperial's, were oddly shaped, not quite coming to a point. Other than that, she looked like a typical Imperial. Hildegard wrinkled her nose and said, "Ew!"

"Hildegard!" Izeera growled. "Izeera was under the impression that you didn't have a problem with Dunmer."

"Yes, well, Dark Elves are all well and fine." Hildegard said, "It's just the thought of them mixing with-"

Izeera, seeing how uncomfortable Rosette was, snapped, "Hildegard Ironhead, if you do not curb your tongue, Izeera will cut it out!"

"But it isn't normal-" Hildegard tried to protest, but Izeera interrupted her.

"There is nothing abnormal about Rosette!" Izeera said angrily. "Izeera sees no horns or additional eyes. She is not purple. The way Izeera sees it, Rosette is normal!"

"Such a prestigious title as Dragonborn should not belong to a half-breed!" Hildegard barked standing up to her full height of nearly six feet.

Rosette immediately flinched. Shame, in a move that shocked everyone, stood up and bellowed, "ENOUGH!"

Hildegard's mouth fell open as Shame stalked towards her. He rarely used his height for such purposes of intimidating someone and he didn't seem that tall to most people, but he had a good seven inches on Hildegard. In this situation, the Nord had never felt so small. "You will not call Rosette that." Shame said angrily. "I have had it up to here with your attitude. As of now, you are no longer in this group."

"You can't do that!" Hildegard protested.

In an icy voice that harkened back to his Thalmor days, Shame coldly said, "I just did. Now leave my presence before you further offend me with your stupidity."

"Where will I go?" the panicked Nord asked.

"I don't care." the Altmer said icily. "As long as it's away from here."

Hildegard swallowed, grabbed her pack, and hurried out of the inn. "What in Oblivion was that?" A stunned Izeera gasped. "You... you had a spine!"

Shame plopped back into his seat. He ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and sighed, "Divines, I hate doing that."

Izeera glanced over at Rosette. The Imperial girl had her lower lip between her teeth. She was staring at Shame, her cheeks tinged pink. The Khajiit let out a soft chuckle. She was on the way to being right. When Shame turned to look at Rosette, she quickly looked away, her face becoming even redder. Yes, Izeera thought, things were definitely starting to head in the direction that her hunch had indicated.

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A young breton woman with thick, brown hair was watching a group seated nearby. Something was familiar about that Altmer male. Something that harkened back to her childhood, eight years ago when she was only fifteen. The scars on his face were unfamiliar, but something about his face definitely was. The Imperial girl who was making goo-goo eyes at the elf seemed familiar, too. She watched as the tall Nord woman said harsh things about the Imperial girl's heritage and when the Altmer stood up and berated her, Monica realized where she remembered him from. When the group headed out the door, she followed them. She immediately reached up, grabbed the elf's hair, yanked him down to her level, and punched him as hard as she could. Of course, given her physicality, she couldn't punch that hard. Immediately, the Khajiit that was with him darted around with surprising speed, grabbed her arms, and held her in a hold that left her unable to move. "You bastard!" Monica cried. "I knew it was you!"

The High Elf clutched his nose, which didn't appear to be broken. He checked, but there was no blood. In the meantime, the Khajiit said, "Has something possessed you? You will tell Izeera or Izeera will break your arms."

"It's him!" Monica cried. "Let me go! It's him!"

"Do I know you?" the Altmer asked quizzically.

"I was the young girl that the guards held back when you had my father arrested eight years ago!" Monica snarled, trying to struggle free.

"You were Lamont's daughter." the elf realized.

The Imperial girl gasped and all color faded from her face. "Edrian." She stammered. "Oh Divines, Edrian!"

The girl was shaking like a leaf. The High Elf reached out for her and she flung herself into his arms, still trembling. To Monica's surprise, Edrian, whom she remembered being very cold, embraced Rosette, whose name she was trying to place. She then realized it. Eight years ago, the young woman had been an eleven-year-old girl who had said something that ruined Monica's father's life. "You!" the Breton said angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Rosette. "I remember you! You're the little whore who accused my father of doing terrible things!"

Rosette was still trembling violently in Edrian's arms. The High Elf glared at Monica and said, "Your father did do terrible things, to many children. He tortured them before murdering them. He attempted to do those things to my charge, too. He deserved to be arrested. I don't know what happened to him after he was arrested and I didn't care. I still don't."

"She's a liar!" Monica cried. "She probably asked for it! She's the reason he was executed!"

"She was eleven years old!" Edrian barked.

Monica heard Izeera hiss behind her. "Do you want me to break her wrists?" the Khajiit asked.

The High Elf didn't answer, having returned his attention to Rosette. Monica then felt an indescribably pain as, in an instant, both of her arms were dislocated. Then, she felt something blunt hit the top of her head as she was knocked out.

Izeera looked at the locals who had been staring at them and the guard who was prepared to act. "Self-defense." the Khajiit said simply. "She assaulted the elf."

The guard nodded and headed over to arrest the Breton, having seen everything. Shame gently stroked Rosette's hair, murmuring reassurances to her and slowly, her shaking lessened before ceasing entirely. The Imperial girl swallowed audibly before looking into the Altmer's amber eyes. "Let's get out of here." she said softly. "I think we've rested enough."

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Lost-In-The-Forest tried not to look directly at her companions. The Bosmer and the Dremora were currently fully nude and rather disheveled looking. Sparkticus even had some mud in his hair and on his back. Meris' neck and decolletege were dotted with large love bites. At least they had the decency to cover themselves. Sparkticus had his hands on his groin and Meris had one arm covering her breasts and her other hand covering her crotch. The Argonian conjurer sighed asked, "Can't you two go at least an hour without fucking?"

"No one was around." Sparkticus said defensively.

"You were screwing in my tent." Lost-In-The-Forest said crossly. "You got mud and... body fluids all over my bedroll."

"Hey!" Meris said. "We weren't even on your bedroll when Sparkticus came. We were on the ground outside and-"

Lost-In-The-Forest covered her earholes and said, "I DON'T NEED TO KNOW THAT!"

Meris huffed and grumbled under her breath. Lost-In-The-Forest sighed and said, "Look. I'd be less mad if you just did in the tent. I didn't need to walk back to you two on the ground, screwing in plain sight. Someone could have seen you."

"There was no one around for miles!" Sparkticus argued.

"What if a Dragon saw you or something?" the Argonian asked.

The Dremora smirked and said, "Well, then, they would have gotten quite a show. The thief gets very... energetic when she's on top."

"I don't need to know that!" Lost-In-The-Forest shouted.

"Yeesh." Meris said. "You're such a prude. How long has it been since you got some, anyway?"

"Three years." Sparkticus replied.

"SHE DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT!" Lost-In-The-Forest shouted.

"Fiiine!" Sparkticus groaned. "We'll stop fucking in plain sight when there is no one else around for miles."

"You'd better." the Argonian huffed.

The Dremora grinned, put an arm around Meris, and said, "We'll just fuck in your tent again."

"Damn it, Sparkticus!" Lost-In-The-Forest groaned.

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I had to give you some lighter stuff after the first half of the chapter being so heavy.