Gowned in black robes that fit his slender and lean figure snugly, the altmer looked suitably refined with elegant gold stitching and segments of glass armour, even along his gloves, his honey blonde hair was let loose, stretching over and covering most of his scarred face, though the bandaged silk on his eye was noticeable at a second glance even under the curtain of soft hair.

Haerendil looked as fine as any altmer outside of Alinor should, as well as not looking obviously like a Thalmor member. Though that did not stop the occasional drunk nord from giving him a dirty or fearful look, though some did not care, even cheerfully offering him a drink. Haerendil sourly refused all offers, merely nursing a glass of mulled wine. It bothered him silently how painfully altmeri he had become after returning home two months prior. But the current mental association of Skyrim- and specifically nords and this stormcloak supporting rats nest...It proved enough to put even his personal tastes with that of his ass of a father.

The altmer's golden lips curled around the goblet's metal rim again, giving a sigh before he felt a hand press to his back, the altmer immediately jolted up, unsheathing his dagger in an instant to threaten whoever touched him, his cold eye was slit before realizing who he was threatening- and the attention drawn from the rest of the Bee and Barb's taverns. An ear batted in minor irritation and embarrassment as he felt eyes pierce through him, a 'sorry' was murmured to one of the nearby argonian tavern keepers.

"Bjarke.." He spoke, sheathing the elven dagger among his robes again as he gave a tense sigh, pressing lips together as his eye stared at the side for a moment, though he did not prolong the silence this time as he gestured for the other to sit opposite to him, slender legs slipping to sit at the chair as he lowly looked up at the half orc, trying to force himself not to smile even a slight at the stupid man's goofy jubilance. The altmer distracted himself by neatening his hair, not saying anything for the moment as the half orc organized food and drink for them. It stung Haerendil how familiar the situation was, the two of them sitting and relaxing in a tavern, sharing a table, eating and drinking together. He brushed the thought away as he recalled what had taken place that morning.

"Haerendil..Yer' looking refined as Dibella herself." The half orc rumbled in a pleasant tone, tusks curled in a very genuine smile. Haerendil, swallowed, still trying to maintain his expression of dour seriousness as he distracted himself by taking another sip of his wine, he still felt intense anger and hurt by the half orc, but in the very least he was not contemplating wicked things happening to him anymore. Bjarke's cursed sincere words earlier had calmed some of the beast that his sore heart had been nursing towards the half orc. He did not bother reflecting that the Altmer did not revere Dibella, deciding instead to just take the compliment.

"And you are looking.." Haerendil trailed off for a moment, finally glancing up to look at the large half nord- half orc. With his shoulder length hair brushed and braided with metal beads and a plain blue shirt with more than a few patches (and poorly done stitches) as well as a tough brown jerkin, and clean pants with a little less patches.

"Like yourself." The altmer surmised, giving a stern huff, though he could not help the slight smile that crept on his golden lips, pressing them together quickly as he felt his features shift in suc a way, though evidently- ever the empathetic, Bjarke had caught it and was now grinning like a recently pet dog.

"So...Are you still a Stormcloak?" The Thalmor assassin decided to inquire, out of all that was said this morning, that question had been the one he had wanted to press upon the most. Glancing as the argonian Keereva handed them each a bowl of steaming stew, which he decidedly poked with his fork a few times in tense waiting for the half orc's answer.

"Sort of.. ' Been wanting to leave, 'n so have the lot up north..So I'm kind of on some low end shit assignment here, wasting away..Rightfully so, I think.." Bjarke responded more seriously, the smile fading into a morose frown as he stared at his food.

" Ye' said it yourself Haer, 'm a bit of a damned coward."

Haerendil gave a slow nod as he took in a breath, going quiet for a moment as he thought it over, Bjarke was never one to lie, said it went against what both Nord's and Orc's did, which Haerendil mused he was grateful for, but it did still pain him to know the other was still with...them.

"..I see."

"It would expl-" The altmer was cut off when he saw Bjarke eating his food right out of the bowl, with awkward slurping in between. Caught off guard by the act, the altmer barely muffled the laugh that burst in his throat, covering his mouth with his glove as his chest still released a few chuckles. The half orc seemed pleased with bringing the reaction out of the more refined mer. Sternly forcing himself to regain his bearings Haerendil combed his honey blonde hair behind pointed erect ears as he took another quick sip of his wine.

"Barbarian." The high elf remarked teasingly, shaking his head with a half smirk before continuing to the more serious topic.

"I'm..sorry about two days ago, since I'm gathering you had to clean..the mess up." Haerendil spoke with a chagrined scowl, eyes darted to the side, as he tensed up, gloved fingers clasping together as he scratched at the wood.

Pricked ears caught the sound of more slurping before the sound of swallowing- probably a bit too much mead in one go, before the half orc shifted to speak.

"Well I won't lie, it was a damned good mess..But y'know, I'm happier to see you, over any stress 'n sorrow I felt over it." Bjarke spoke with a bit of a forced smile, but Haerendil knew his words were genuine from the tone alone, even if the tusks pressed on his face made the half orc less intimidating than he probably was.

"Hmph, Still." Haerendil reasoned, still feeling some trace of guilt over having murdered in cold blood someone the two of them had once considered a mutual friend. Their 'romantic dinner ' went silent for a time, with Bjarke happily scarfing down his food and Haerendil eating slow and steadily, leaving a good quarter of remnants which he fed to his half orc. The Thalmor made no move to say it but he was most grateful that the other man had picked up that despite the great deal to talk about, words came slowly and not nearly as gracefully as he wanted.

After the two had paid their owed coin for the meal, drinks and..apparently night, Haerendil silently lead the lumbering giant to the stairway where noisy and jubilant (or morose) patrons were in significant less number.

"So.. I guess goodbye?" Bjarke spoke, clasping his large olive green fingers together as he glanced to the walls. The altmer clenched his eyes together with a slight grimace, mentally reviewing his actions as his uptight thoughts and mood fought against his current decision. Taking a moment to massage the sharply angled bridge of his nose with slim finger tips his single eye shot to the half orc with a degree of sternness.

"No, you will be staying with..me tonight." He spoke as firmly as he could, to which the half orc's brawny features lit up with a delighted grin, before quickly trying to smother it as he lumbered up the wooden stairs to join Haerendil's side, standing a good head and neck above him- along with all large build, there was a slight shadow cast over him, though the altmer did not fear such a man giving an playful pat to his chest before he strode over with refined steps to a dimly lit bedroom. Haerendil was in no mood nor mental state to deal with sexual matters, and he..perhaps foolishly still put a great deal in the half orc, especially in matters such as this. But he did want the half orc, his stupid heart was still all too happy to have the slightest excuse against his hurt's better judgement to go running back to the man he used to adore so much- and perhaps still did.

Settling himself on the furred top blanket, he idly began to unlace his boots, his single eye and slowly twitching right ear monitoring the half orc as his presence was signaled by a notable indent in the plush mattress beside the lean mer, a mirthful snort left his golden features as he continued to undress, placing his top coat, boots gauntlets and the black bandage that was lain on his eye meticulously placed beside one another on the shabbily carved end table in the room. A loose black undercoat remained, along with a layer of underclothes beneath, all kept the cold mostly off, a degree of golden chest revealed with the looser robes, though it unfortunately had numerous nasty scars like his facial features.

Bjarke waited patiently, ever the polite creature- staring to the side to give him some privacy, before the altmer returned to his side, pressing a knee on the half orc's muscular thigh, slender fingers curling around his shoulders as he slowly lowered, tension still in his movements and a stiff yet flustered frown on his angular features.

"I will be honest with you, Bjarke, I'm..not in any mood to get frisky tonight and your large arse best respect that lest you want an elven blade in your sternum, beyond affectionate touch, but-"

"Y' missed me?" Bjarke interrupted with a complacent little grin- like a child with stolen candy. The altmer gave a petulant frown for a moment before snorting without a verbal response, for as always the damned half orc was right. Wordlessly Haerendil closed in on the orc's features slowly. Full golden lips pressing gently to the half orc's lips, tasting the remnants of mead upon it as he closed his eyes, leaning against the man more as his tense body slowly eased against Bjarke's own, starved for affection and really-..this damned man's touch, the high elf found himself tenderly leaning against the orc, enjoying the refreshing feeling of their mouths meeting in soft mutual affection. There was still a lot to heal between the two and what had happened, but Haerendil could appreciate the small step of kissing.

Bjarke's large hands gathered in the small of the lean altmer's back, squeezing softly as he leaned into his golden neck, those tusks poking into his sensitive skin, leaving the mer giving a soft gasp of approval, before the half orc knowingly nibbled gently on the mer's pointed-none synthetic ear. Haerendil gave a soft hum of approval. Though suddenly eased off of Bjarke, as something horribly sick tore at his stomach, he tried to play it off, but could feel upset tearing at him as those gods damned memories boiled up like a wailing spirit, constantly tormenting and reminding him in unseen flashes in his head. The half orc evidently noticed- most likely due to his damned betraying ears, which he found to be flattened, poking out of his soft hair.

"Haer?" Came the stupid Half orc's stupid caring voice.. Haerendil took a breath to try and calm himself down, immediately regretting doing this, what was he thinking? He was bloody broken, both physically and mentally, how dare he try to have one nice thing back, no the gods just had to make every part miserable.

The high elf was distracted from his hurt sorrows when half orc stood up, and removed his jerkin, though left his shirt on, leaving just enough olive green skin to be tasteful. Again- to his flustered frustration he realized that Bjarke was not moving to touch him to comfort him this time, which means he must have caught on. Feeling a head of humiliation embarrassment, the altmer turned to fold his arms, feeling a pang of pain as the torn muscle of his right ear could lower no further.

"'I'm sorry, I didn' mean to upset ye'..Haer, we can go to sleep now if 'ye wish, or I can leave.. I really don't mind, 'Just want you to feel ok." The half orc offered, still holding the hide jerking as if he was ready to put it on if the altmer so told him too.

To his frustration, communicating the issue was a lot harder without breaking down in another upsetting and humiliating breakdown. He could feel his eyes grow hot, but he refrained, tensely clawing at the furs on the bed as he stared at the wall. He was not sure what would make him feel better..For the first time he had someone who knew...no- had lain witness-even against his own will to that cursed event.

"...Let's just sleep,." He spoke, again- far too tersely for his taste, but his throat refused to give out any more words or appropriate apologies to how he was now this..highly sensitive, volatile mess of a high elf.

Bjarke gave a compassionate nod, tusks lowered in a sad-though caring frown, much to Haerendil's flustered irritation as he already felt immensely weak for putting up such a fuss over...nothing. Not that it was nothing in his head, but it felt like it, and he felt bad for how much the half orc cared, it felt wasted on him, a shattered porcelain doll, with no remnant of any likable feature or personality he once had.

Brushing aside the bothersome low self esteem and self loathing, the altmer shifted under the covers, watching as the half orc joined him, the difference in weight quite evidence by the dimpling of the bed mattress, though it served as some form of grim amusement for the upset mer. Carefully, Haerendil moved back to the half orc, settling his torso and arms atop his large breathing chest, dutifully forcing intrusive thoughts away for the moment as he placed his left facial features to Bjarke's pleasantly warm olive sternum. His remaining eye briefly darted to look at the half orc who was watching- with content concern.

"You can stroke me if you want, just only my back." He informed, giving a deep sigh before he forced his remaining eye closed, his body relaxing from the earlier debacle- or as much as it could. The assistance of those familiar large hands caressing the tense curves of his slender back did help, and even as his thoughts stressfully buzzed, it was..nice to have the half orc here and holding him, the dark hair on his chest did tickle slightly- but the feeling was welcome compared to the raw itching his scarred eye felt.

Much more as there was to say, the altmer was exhausted by the day, and soon drifted asleep, content in the larger male's muscular embrace and the pleasant share of body heat on the cold Skyrim evening.