Erandur followed a bit behind his perplexing companion. Were it any other Khajiit but her sporting enough gold for horses, he'd have his doubts about where it came from. Yet with Telki, there were no such worries. Her unflappable honesty was both endearing and frustrating by turns. On one hand, you never had to worry about what she was thinking. On the other, you never had to worry what she was thinking. It came out will you, nil you, usually loud enough for the entire town to hear.
Which led him to another revelation: how little he actually knew about her. For all her honesty, she was a past master at dodging personal questions. Until now, they had traveled in a companionable silence. This revelation put a pall on that. Telki must have felt the change, because she looked back over her shoulder at her companion with a question writ large those wide luminous eyes. "Erandur?"
Mara above, she was a lovely sight. They had left the snows of The Pale far behind, and were now passing through the aspen woods of the Rift. The gold and orange leaves that caught in her auburn curls shone like jewels. She hadn't even shared with him why they were headed this way, only a vague murmur about something he'd enjoy.
"Telki, you know everything there is to know about me. All I know of you is your name. Why do you hide your past from me?" Oh, it hurt to watch her face fall so. He regretted asking, but why hide from him?
"I..." She closed her eyes to gather an answer for him. "I'm so used to having to be careful. It's become second nature, and it was so hard to learn in the first place! It's not intentional." She sighed heavily, and moved her black mare with the glowing blue eyes to pace his. There was another story he'd very much like to hear. "Well, where would you like for me to start?"
"You're very well spoken for a Khajiit, even if you're a Dogi...daggi.." He'd only heard it once, and couldn't remember the proper pronunciation.
|"Dagi Raht?" Telki couldn't stand hearing him mangle the word a moment longer. "Manifold reasons, really. Firstly, my family was part of a small caravan that traveled Cyrodiil. When it was clear Mother was having issues carrying me, Father set up a permanent trading post. Ours wasn't the only caravan, and it was a popular camping spot at a crossroads. It turned out to be a rather inspired idea. Caravans didn't have to travel as far, they had a safe resting place, and the Imperials had a reliable source of Elseweyr goods.
"Secondly, if this one spoke as one who traveled the sands, would you trust this one as much?" Telki's lips quirked into a humorless smile when Erandur absently covered his money pouch. Watching the path of her gaze, he raised his eyebrows at his own thoughtless reaction."Father was a brilliant tradesman. He taught himself to speak and move as the Imperials did. Setting his customers at ease made trading with them all the more profitable. Raised in Cyrodiil, I had the advantage to learn the appropriate body language and speech patterns as a matter of course. Father would have it no other way."
"So, you should be a prosperous trader in Cyrodiil. How did you wind up here?"
"I discovered I was not the brilliant trader my father was, nor was I a talented seamstress like my mother. I sold the trading post after Father passed away. I would not be the one to run Father's pride into the ground. Rihandi was pretty much a brother to me and a son to father. I knew he'd do right by Father's Legacy. So, with all my worldly goods, I set out to learn what I could, where ever I could."
"How did you get bit by wanderlust, if you'd never traveled yourself?" Erandur was curious.
"Tales from the caravans, I guess. So many places, so many tales. I even learned to play lute. Natural pics make it easy, you see." Telki held up her claws for Erandur's inspection, a mischievous grin on her face. "I learned to handle a bow from a Bosmer, some magic from a Breton I met on the road, even picked up a bit of alchemy from an Altmer, and then I learned about the existence of shouts, so, I came to Skyrim."
"I'm guessing the border crossing was not easy, given the Civil War?" Here, Telki nearly fell off her horse laughing, even the glowing eyed mare tossed her mane as if sharing in the joke.
"Oh Gods, you have noooo idea." Erandur could barely make out the words amidst the gales of near hysteria tinged laughter. It took about a half mile for her to calm down enough to hear him.
"Well then, tell me." Considering how patient Erandur was being with her outburst, Telki gathered herself back together to finish the tale for him.
"So, I'm riding the roads alone when I spy some travelers ahead of me on the pass. I join them, we're having an easy time talking and swapping tales, they're kind to me, Erandur...it is VERY refreshing not to be treated like a leper, by the by. One of the guards notices I'm shivering. It's brutally cold up that pass after the warmer climes, so he loans me a cloak...and then the ambush attacks." Telki's mouth twisted into an unhappy frown at the memory.
"Just my luck, I'd fallen in with none other than Ulfric Stormcloak, and am caught wearing his colors."
Erandur sat still on his horse. His eyebrows high in surprise. "Wait, Ulfric Stormcloak, and you were welcomed? That sounds nothing like the man I've heard about."
"Well, from my brief meeting with him, I'd say most of those stories are exaggerations, or others making assumptions for him, y'know? Very easy to assume home rule also means xenophobia, when the two aren't related. Would you assume Morrowind wanting to rule itself meant 'outsiders unwelcome'?"
"Hmmm, fair point. So, captured with Ulfric and his Stormcloaks, what happened? You're still alive so, the Imperials let you go?"
Here Telki gave the most unladylike snort of derision he'd ever heard. "Oh no, Tullius was perfectly willing to chop my head off just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No, I have a dragon attack to thank for my continued existence."
"Wait, Helgen?"
"On my knees, looking at the headsman, when a dragon born from Sithis' deepest bowels blasts me in the face not once, but twice with some kind of shout. I had no idea at the time why it didn't kill me. A Stormcloak named Ralof got me out of Helgen, so, at some point, I'm going to Windhelm to join the Rebellion. I'll be damned if I'll let that pitiful excuse of an empire continue to rule. They let the Thalmor run roughshod over everyone, and their justice is anything but! Erandur, they use torturers. No, they don't deserve one damned lick of support, and I mean to help put an end to them."
It was a good thing Erandur was sitting on his horse, because hearing that much vitriol from her paralyzed him with shock. Telki, not noticing her partner's paralysis, continued with her musings.
"Do you know, if the empire had any sense at all, they would have let the Stormcloaks win their little war years ago?" The very quiet and unbelievable nature of her thoughts brought Erandur's attention back to her.
"Why is that?" He really wanted to know where this was going. How could splintering the empire be good for it?
"They'd have a safe place to raise troops against the Aldmeri, and since they'd have no official hold on the province anymore, any Thalmor that stepped foot in Skyrim would be trespassing and quickly dead. They'd have one safe place to build arms back up against the Dominion."
"And you know'd this would work because?" He was dubious as to how effective that could have been. The Thalmor were insidious, brilliant, and patient. What possible reason would the Nords have for going along with such a mad plan, anyway?
"Seriously, Erandur, have you met the Nords? Do you really think they'd need much of an invite to an elf killin' party?" When she put it that way, it made all kinds of sense. They lapsed back into a companionable silence, Erandur mulling over all she'd said. When something she'd said earlier caught his attention.
"You said "you didn't know then why the shouts didn't kill you." How'd you survive a dragon shout?"
Telki let out an annoyed hum. "Emmm, here we go. Erandur, do you know what a Dragonborn is?"
"N'chow, no! Are you serious?" His Telki, a Dragonborn? Dragonborn were these mysterious foreboding heroes all larger than life. They weren't huggable, mischievous, dainty Khajiit?
"And there it is. I never took the title for myself, I never waltzed in saying 'Hey all! I'm the Dragonborn!' No! Someone saw it happen, tales spread, and now it's on me to prove I'm this hero of legend someone else told them about? What in Blazes!" Her little tempest blew itself out, and he watched his darling practically deflate before his eyes. "It'd be nice if, just once, I didn't have to keep proving myself."
Erandur couldn't stand those downcast darling eyes. He quickly pulled her against his chest, kissing the top of her bound curls. "It was a surprise, Telki. You ought to know by now there hasn't been a Dragonborn in a long time. It's no mere coincidence you turned up the same time the dragons did. You know that, don't you?"
"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. I mean, if they're gonna call me Dragonborn, why do I have to prove it? Huh?" Telki nuzzled into Erandur's chest for comfort, and felt the deep chuckles when they started. They both knew by now, if she were voicing WhinyCat, she was feeling better. Cuddles against Erandur usually figured heavily into this.
"I love you, Telki. There is none other like you in all Tamriel, and I thank the Divines it's so."
"Don't think Tamriel'd survive it?"
"Not in the slightest." Erandur finally looked up around them. In the distance, he saw the gates and banners to Riften. "We're headed to Riften? You know the reputation that place has?" Unconsciously, Erandur's lip began to curl. He really had no use for skulduggery, and Riften was steeped in it.
"I know it has a Temple to Mara, an orphanage, and a man I desperately need to speak to about finding someone."
"Really, Telki, can't you have just one reason for visiting any place? "
"No, why?" All Erandur could do was shake his head at her. Really, what had he gotten himself into?