Beneath the Shield

by Narex

This is the story of Argis the Bulwark's life, and how he eventually became the Dragonborn's housecarl and husband. M/M pairing, so if you don't like it don't read. Rated M for explicit violence and sex in later chapters. Undergoing gradual rewrite.

15. Chapter 15

AN: I just thought to mention again that any and all reviews and criticism are always appreciated.

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Argis sighed gustily as Tullius walked away to help solidify the military's control over the city. He glanced over to the wizard next to him and nodded at Ardanthis' suggestion, "They definitely will need another healer, but I'm useless there. I'll help with the fires then..." He trailed off hesitantly, wordlessly expressing how he did not want to separate from his thane.

Giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, Ardanthis said softly, "We're both going to have to do what we can to help this city. I'll be alright, Argis."

The housecarl didn't look pleased but accepted his thane's words hesitantly. He suddenly swept the elf into a fierce embrace before huskily saying, "Stay safe. The city isn't peaceful just yet."

With a small laugh Ardanthis returned the hug and said, "And what makes you think I can't handle whatever comes my way? Go on, Argis, I'll be fine."

Nodding hesitantly, the Nord departed and joined in the mass of soldiers working to extinguish the flames that had spread to some of the buildings. No one questioned Argis' presence or why he wasn't in the Imperial soldiers' uniform. Most of them assumed he was just another citizen who wanted to keep his city from burning down to ash for there were many such soldiers who emerged once the fighting stopped.

Thankfully, the city was built mostly of stone making the fire less likely to spread. Many of the larger homes were made of wood, which was a concern, but a heavy snow began to fall. Much to the delight of the conquerors and the citizens, the thick snow helped to extinguish the flames and prevented the fire from spreading.

A soot stained Argis made his way to the Candlehearth Hall as the combination of falling snow and exhaustion put off the efforts to extinguish the flames. He could feel the potion he had drunk earlier fading, its effects having reached their limit. The Hall was an inn in quieter times, but it had temporarily been converted to a makeshift hospital and place to leave the wounded. It was quickly filled with the worst of the wounded and other shops and locales were converted into places to hold the wounded.

The Nord blew out a worried sigh as he had never confirmed where he would meet back up with his love. He assumed that they would meet at the Candlehearth Hall, but he was having doubts now. Entering the large inn, he brushed the fallen snow off of his hair and armour not because the cold would bother him, it bothered no one of Nord blood, but to avoid dripping everywhere he went. He looked around the room and saw that the wounded had been efficiently laid out on cots, piles of fur, or even just the hay-strewn floor. He took all of this in with a sweep of his gaze, but it did not prepare for him for the smell that struck him a moment later. The charnel house reek that pervaded the inn struck the warrior like a blow. He had seen and smelled his share of gore and death, but it was so contained in this inn that it seemed overwhelming. He pitied the healers still moving between bleeding, moaning forms for they were trapped here by their duty. Breathing through his mouth he approached a young Imperial man who was replacing a bandage on a wounded soldier's arm. He quickly asked, "Have you seen a High Elf healer recently? He would likely be wearing leather armour."

Scowling up at Argis, the Imperial gave an exhausted sigh at being interrupted and then pointed to the door to the kitchen before turning back to his patient and pointedly ending the conversation.

Curiously, Argis headed for the kitchen and wondered what Ardanthis could be doing there. He entered slowly and saw the wizard hunched over a mortar and pestle with a large number of empty bottles next to him. "Ardanthis?" called the Nord in a soft voice as he approached the elf.

The Altmer looked up as his name was called and Argis could see the dark circles under his eyes, "Ah, Argis! I heard that the falling snow chased many of those putting out the fires in doors. I'm also glad that you managed to find me." He shook his head and laughed softly at himself, "Stupid me, I should have asked if you were fine or not – did you get singed by the flames?"

He shook his head in response, and added, "No, I'm fine. We were lucky – some of the Dark Elves came and helped with the fires, being so resistant to the heat they suffered little. We still worked to put out the fires, but you should have seen how easily they approached the worst blazes without fear. The fires are now mostly take care of, so I came to find you."

Giving Argis a tired and somewhat forced grin, the wizard said, "You can help me mix healing potions if you want something to do. I've exhausted my magic for now, so I'm making do with what I have left." He sternly eyed the warrior, "I hope you were paying attention when I taught you how to mix a potion to the proper consistency."

Argis shot a tired smile back as he picked up the mortar and pestle. Suddenly, the elf put his hand on Argis' and stopped him. Looking up in confusion the Nord saw the elf held two small vials of green liquid. "It won't last as long as the ones the general gave us, but it will do for a little while," stated the wizard before drinking down one vial and handing the other to Argis.

Drinking his own vial, the warrior was disappointed to find that he didn't get the same rush as from the first potion. His disappointment must have shown for the Altmer softly said, "A body gradually grows inured to their effects and usually has to rest before this effect dissipates."

Nodding grimly and determined to make whatever potions he could with the energy he had, Argis began to crush the herbs with gusto. He frequently paused to ask which plants to put together for there was a wide selection of ingredients but few of each. The elf very mechanically told him which ones to use, too tired to properly teach or tease.

They had filled well over half the bottles when Ardanthis called for a halt, saying, "We need to administer these potions to the wounded now. There's no good making all of them if no one drinks them."

Taking up a nearby satchel, the warrior carefully packed the small bottles filled with crimson liquid into it. Following the wizard into the main room of the inn and the charnel house smell, the Nord walked into one of the side rooms where several men lay. The scent of blood was particularly strong in this room and many of the dressings of the men were particularly drenched with blood.

"These men are the most critically injured," said the elf in a soft voice.

Looking over the wounded here, Argis could only nod and agree. Many of the men would not survive the night without additional treatment and must have been in agony. Only a few soft, breathy moans made it into the air though.

Continuing at Argis' nod, the wizard said, "I'm going to need you to help administer the potions. It's simple. Just gently pour the potion down their throats and make sure not a drop is wasted. You may have to gently massage their throats to get them to swallow. Normally, I would suggest we pour a bit on their wounds to help heal those directly, but I'm afraid of internal damage, so I want everything going down their throat."

Argis had rarely seen this professional aspect of his husband. This person wore the shape of his love, but was coldly clinical in his assessment. The housecarl understood the importance of this to the healing process, but it was still a strange thing to see.

Following the wizard's example, Argis took off his gauntlets and uncorked a bottle. He leaned over a man who looked like he was more cuts than solid body left and whispered, "I'm here to help you, but I just need you to drink this." Gently pouring the potion into the man's mouth and massaging his throat as instructed, Argis managed to coax the man into swallowing some of it. Suddenly, his patient coughed and sprayed blood and potion onto Argis' face. The warrior slowly leaned back and swore as he wiped his face. He returned to his patient and attempted to make the man drink and succeeded this time. Smoothly swallowing the potion in small sips, the wounded man began to breathe easier and his visible wounds closed at least partially.

Hurrying to his next patient, Argis managed to get this man to drink without getting spat up on. He watched in wonder as the arrow embedded in the man's gut slid out its wound and clattered on the floor. Ardanthis looked up sharply at the noise, but when he saw the source he gave Argis an approving nod.

The men within the room all eventually got a taste of the life saving concoctions and the two men stood at the door surveying the wounded. Ardanthis beckoned Argis back to the kitchen and said in a voice devoid of energy, "Just leave the bottles over with the other empties." Nodding, the housecarl held one of the bottles up to the low burning fire and noticed it looked clean. The potion seemed to drag itself out as one mass and didn't leave residue.

Leaning in a corner, the elf dragged exhausted eyes over the kitchen-turned-alchemy-lab and said, "We need to make-make more..."

Argis approached him and shook his head. His deep voice became soft as he said, "Not tonight, Ard. Not tonight. Even you need to rest some time, you know. Come on, let's get you out of that armour." Sleeping in armour often resulted in terrible chafing and a terrible night's sleep. The elf nodded and began to work on the straps holding it onto him, and Argis quickly helped him. Ard's fingers seemed to suddenly be too clumsy to properly get the armour off and Argis ended up doing most of the work. It suddenly struck Argis that just the night before he had been doing these same actions under very different circumstances. This time around, there was no lust involved in the disrobing, just a strange feeling of helping to change a small child. Piling the elf's armour off to the side, Argis added more wood to the small fire in the kitchen hearth. His own armour was quickly removed and piled next to the elf's, but he kept his boots on for now. He looked back to the dragonborn and saw the elf slowly slump against the wall and slide down until he was sitting on the hard floor. Wincing at the sight, Argis hurried over to the healer's supplies and got two thick blankets and quickly returned to his exhausted thane.

He knew that whatever effects the stamina potions had given him had worn off and that he wasn't far behind his thane's level of exhaustion. The wizard had not had as much physically demanding training as the warrior, and so Argis knew he was able to last a little longer.

When he arrived back at the tired elf, he could see Ard's eyes were half closed and that the wizard was shivering slightly. The room was not particularly cold, which made Argis worry more for his thane. His symptoms were reminiscent of some sort of shock.

The kitchen itself was a small, windowless room with only one doorway which opened onto the main taproom of the inn. Argis was grateful for the confined nature of the room, for it made heating it up faster.

A cheerful blaze was soon crackling in the cook's fireplace, and Argis wrapped the two blankets around both himself and Ardanthis. He himself could have slept without issue if he had no blankets, but he worried that the elf might suffer from the cold. Worriedly gnawing his lip, he placed his arm around Ard's shoulders, sensing that the living contact and body heat might be more important as a comfort than the fire was as a source of warmth. He could feel the dragonborn lean against him, easing into sleep. Argis quickly followed him as the pungent scent of the crushed herbs warded off the reek of blood and violence.

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A particularly loud groan of pain roused Argis from his sleep. He slowly and stiffly tried to move away from Ardanthis so as not to wake the sleeping elf, but the slight motions stirred the other man to life.

With a slow stretch as he rose to his feet, the High Elf looked down at the still seated Nord. Smiling and crossing his arms, he said with mock sternness, "Come on, you've got to get up now as there are many more soldiers in need of our aid." He suddenly looked dejected for a moment and added in a much softer voice, "Many, many more soldiers."

"Not without breakfast," declared the housecarl authoritatively. Grinning at his husband's practicality, the Altmer acceded to Argis' order. He wouldn't sit idle, though, and began to crush herbs in preparations for making potions while the Nord fried whatever he could scrounge up in the surprisingly bare kitchen. As Argis cooked he eyed the wizard, looking for any trace of lingering damage from the last night. He nodded to himself, satisfied that Ard appeared to be completely recovered.

They ate quickly and without savouring it in order to get to their duties faster. Trying to soften the grim start to the morning, Argis clapped the wizard on his arm and gave him a grin before heading to his armour. "Let's get ready to save some lives," he threw over his shoulder.

The housecarl rapidly strapped on his armour, buckled on his sword, and slung his shield over his back before returning to the potions table. He looked to the wizard and saw him tugging on his last glove. Meeting the warrior's gaze, Ardanthis said, "I'll be right back." Argis was confused as the wizard slipped out of the kitchen, but he immediately understood when he heard the soft chimes and saw flares of golden light. Continuing to pound herbs, he mixed a few potions while he waited for his husband to return.

He didn't have to wait long as the High Elf soon re-entered the room and joined him at the table. Giving Ard a playful smile, Argis said, "Only with you would I go straight from a marriage to ending the Stormcloak rebellion. I wanted somewhere quiet to spend some time together, and I suppose this," he gestured to the room around them, "will do."

Neither man wanted to broach the enormity of the situation that lay outside their small inn turned hospital. There was too much death, loss, and devastation outside for them to want to begin to understand it right at that moment. Talking about it made it real to both of them, and they tried to deny the aftermath by making small talk about technique, herbs, and the places they'd like to visit. The location ranged from the Imperial City to seeing the Alik'r Desert's shining sands.

With an annoyed frown, Ardanthis interrupted the conversation and muttered softly, "Argis, I'm going to ask the other acolytes for more herbs and administer some of what we made already. Please finish the last of the potions for me." The Nord nodded and continued his mixing as the elf left and took several bottles with him.

A short while passed before the elf returned with empty bottles and empty handed of herbs. "They have nothing left?" asked the warrior, quickly drawing that conclusion from the lack of supplies and the wizard's grim expression. He had just finished cleaning the mortars, pestles, and other alchemic supplies they had used.

A deep sigh welled up and out of the wizard as he nodded at Argis and looked over the bottles of restorative potions. Without additional supplies, this was all they had left, and the amount suddenly seemed much smaller than it had before. Straightening his sagging shoulders, the Altmer said, "There's no use in misery. Help me patch up the last of the worst off soldiers so we can pitch in the city's reconstruction."

Bottles in hand, they left for the sickroom. Argis was duly impressed by how many of the beds had been cleared and how many of the remaining men were awake. The worst of the injured were clustered close to the warmth of the fireplace, making getting to all of them an easy task.

It was not long before the last ruby drop of vitality slid down one of the last injured throats. One man, badly wounded with a broken leg, was the last patient in critical condition. Carefully eyeing the mangled leg, Ardanthis laid his hands on the damaged limb and called up another flare of golden light. The snap of the bone sliding together and into place was audible to all the nearby recovering soldiers. Drawing back as the man settled into a deeper, more comfortable sleep, the Altmer returned to the kitchen. The spent bottles sat neatly on the counter, looking like they were perfectly cleaned, and the freshly washed tools lay drying. After a brief discussion they decided it would be simpler to leave their packs in the kitchen and return there that night.

They left the Candlehearth Hall kitchen and began to walk out towards the street when a hand reached out and snagged Ardanthis' wrist. One of the wounded Nords who had sat up and regained consciousness had grabbed the elf's wrist to stop him. In a hesitant and gruff voice the man said, "I wanted to say thank you, elf. I never thought I'd owe my life to a High Elf, but when I took that arrow to the gut all I thought was that I was going to die for sure. It was a horrible, burning pain and you saved me. So...thank you." A soft chorus of agreement drifted out of the other men around him.

Ard was simply dumbstruck by the Nords' appreciation for his efforts. His every expectation had been that they would survive and hate him for making them owe their lives to him. He numbly mumbled, "You- you are welcome." He quickly walked away as the soldier released his arm and leaned back onto the bunched cloth that he was using as a pillow. Argis carefully noted the additional bounce in his thane's step as they departed the inn and stepped outside.

The area immediately surrounding the inn was free of structural damage, but the fiercest battles had happened here. Snow lay heavily on the ground and covered up the bloodstains that would have painted the ground a horrifying shade of red. The road to the Palace was the main focus of the reconstruction efforts and several Dunmer and Argonians worked among the Nords and Imperials. The newly appointed jarl of the city, Brunwulf Free-Winter, had apparently made a point of hiring workers from the Dumer and Argonians as a way of showing he was not just a different face on the same Stormcloak ideology.

An Imperial wizard in blue robes oversaw the movement of stone and debris that choked the path. Ardanthis hailed the man as he approached and asked, "Are you supervising the work here? If so, I'd like to offer our services to the effort."

The wizard looked the pair over before calmly asking, "You're that dragonborn, aren't you?" Ardanthis mentally sighed, a High Elf and Nord travelling together must be a distinctive pair.

Nodding, the Altmer replied, "I am, but how can we help this city recover?"

"Oh that's not for me to decide. The new Jarl wishes to see you immediately in the Palace. I suggest that you head there now as he's been looking for you since the battle ended," responded the wizard. His gaze suddenly flicked to Argis and the warrior could tell this blue-robed Imperial was appraising his ability to haul materials. Quickly turning to his thane he asked, "I will accompany you, of course." The Imperial pursed his lips at the lost labourer when he saw the High Elf nod.

They wended their way through the narrow side roads of the city in an effort to find their way back to the Palace of Kings. Only getting lost once, they quickly arrived at the looming doors of the ancient structure. The brazier burned cheerfully in front of the Palace as if nothing had changed for it. A woman in ragged clothes, obviously homeless, held her hands before the blaze with a smile of comfort and ignored the passing pair.

The Imperial soldier who guarded the doors to the Palace seemed to instantly recognize them and ushered them in. Mentally sighing to himself, Ardanthis supposed that a High Elf and a Nord definitely were a rather distinctive pair.

Entering into the Palace gave the housecarl a strange sense of déjà vu. The blood had been cleaned off of the floor and empty plates sat on the table, but the hall looked almost identical to how it had appeared during the siege. Argis almost expected to see Ulfric sitting coolly on the throne, but a bald headed man with a dark, bushy beard sat on the throne in his place.

A small table was set up next to the throne and a large stack of papers sat upon it. The jarl sitting on the throne sighed deeply as he signed off on whatever was written on the page. The sound of the pair's footsteps on the stone floor alerted the jarl to their presence. He glanced at them appraisingly from his throne for a moment before rising up off of it and descending from the dais.

He greeted them in a powerful voice with, "Ah. You must be the thane and housecarl from Markarth. Ardanthis and Argis, correct?"

"We are indeed, Jarl. I don't believe we've met before, though," cautiously replied Ardanthis.

Extending his hand towards the Altmer the jarl said, "I am Brunwulf Free-Winter, the new Jarl of Windhelm." He critically eyed the elf as they clasped hands, "I don't think I've ever heard your family name, you know."

Ardanthis gave the jarl a tight smile and said, "I left that behind on the Summerset Isles. I am simply Ardanthis now, my Jarl."

Sensing the thorny nature of his question, the jarl nodded and released the wizard's hand. "I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not Ulfric's spiritual successor. He was once an honourable man, but he lost his way. I want to ensure that the people of Windhelm understand things will be different," said the jarl with a mournful tone. He quickly continued, "And to that end I need a figure that most everyone can rally around. I have already made overtures to both the Dunmer and Argonian communities in Windhelm, but I do not think they easily trust a Nord in power. It would not be the first time that a jarl had mistreated them as a people."

Ardanthis arched an eyebrow at the jarl's words and asked, "I have seen Argonian and Dunmer workers already helping to clear the rubble, Jarl Free-Winter. Is that not a good sign?"

With a small shake of his head, the other man replied, "It's not the same. They're there for the money that I'm willing to pay them, and not for anything else. Even though I do pay them a fair wage, I doubt they expect it to last. I want a more permanent marker of my willingness to cooperate with other races."

Argis gave a small smile that he quickly swallowed as he saw how the jarl danced around the central question. The wizard clearly saw it coming too, and patiently waited for the jarl to ask that central question. Unwittingly obliging the two men, Brunwulf stated, "I would like to offer you the position of thane within my new court if you'd have it. I know you are already familiar with the demands of the rank, and I believe you would help maintain order within the city. Windhelm is a city complicated by the three disparate cultures existing in it, and I believe that you would be best able to help unite, or at least quell disturbances between, these different factions." He gave them a small, sly smile before continuing, "It will, of course, require that you own a piece of property within the city. You will quickly become well known to the citizens of this hold, so the property is all that stands in your way."

Tilting his head to the side Ardanthis asked with a small, knowing smile, "And I assume that you have the ideal piece of property set out for purchase."

"Of course. There's a proud house called Hjerim. It escaped the siege completely unscathed, so it's ready to move into," Brunwulf continued with his grin persisting, "But it's barely furnished and has been unlived in for some time. Windhelm has some excellent craftsmen though, and can outfit your new home for a small price."

"Let's talk price then, Jarl," said the elf with a shrewd gaze levelled on the jarl.

The jarl's face suddenly seemed to shift into a very business-like demeanour as he said, "The basic house will run you twelve thousand gold and the other amenities will add to that."

Argis suddenly burst in, "That's a ridiculous price-"

"Easy, Argis," interrupted the thane, "The price is...actually quite cheap for a house of that size, but I do want to see what you can do for the property." He glanced back at his housecarl before continuing, "But first tell me why you're letting such a valuable home go for so little. We both know the city needs the money badly and you know I'm able and willing to pay more for Hjerim."

The jarl gave a small shrug as if undisturbed that he had this hole in his reasoning. He handed a long list to the elf and said, "Hjerim has sat vacant for a long time and I'm more interested in moving it quickly. Windhelm needs money, but it also needs it quickly. Besides, we both know your real value isn't in what the Empire has already paid you but in what you can yet do for this city."

"Then we'll take the home and the amenities," said the elf with complete aplomb. Scanning over the page he nodded once before slipping the list into a pouch in his belt. He slipped a small piece of paper out of that same pouch and hastily wrote on it before handing it to the jarl, "That should cover it, correct?"

Quietly, Argis was stunned that Ardanthis had so quickly agreed to pay so much for the home. Mentally sighing, he supposed that the new position in such a turbulent city would allow them to become an influential part of the political landscape much more easily.

The warrior's musing was quickly interrupted by the jarl saying, "Of course, a new housecarl will be assigned to you." The jarl's gaze flicked to Argis before he continued, "As is customary with every individual rising to the position of thane."

Argis was surprised to see the jarl actually take him into consideration. Most jarls and thanes viewed housecarls as invisible and emotionless when dealing with others. He mentally jerked and realized that the jarl may not care about him as a housecarl, but as the dragonborn's husband. He definitely carried weight there.

"Another housecarl? Did you find someone trustworthy enough for this?" asked the Altmer with evident scepticism.

Nodding confidently, the jarl responded, "I have. He's a bit of an opportunist but has a background as a warrior. You might be interested to note that he fought in the war to retake Markarth from the Forsworn. Besides, with the city still calming down it's best to have as many guards as possible, right?"

Argis immediately perked up when he heard this, but quickly shrugged it off. Many people fought the Forsworn in those days, and it was unlikely that it was anyone he ever knew. Gods, the man could just be claiming to have fought there to increase his prestige or move upward.

Ardanthis' suspicious voice asked, "Why didn't he stay in Markarth then? I'm sure they could have used a skilled sword in the aftermath."

Brunwulf shrugged again, "Something about not enough work." He quickly continued on before either of the men before him could interrupt him again, "In any case, your furnishings and new housecarl will be in Hjerim tomorrow." Fishing a key out of his pocket he tossed it to the wizard and climbed back up to his throne where he took resumed his seat. Smiling benignly at the pair, he said, "Feel free to see the home as it stands now. I think you will be pleased with your decision to pay for the improvements on it. Now, I must finish looking through these requests. I wish you both the best."

Nodding, they took the dismissal and left the Palace, leaving the jarl behind and hunched over his work. Walking out of the Palace of the Kings, they veered off down a narrow path and made their way towards Hjerim. The large house was situated amongst the other manors that had been untouched by the siege, and it felt like stepping into another world as they walked past the low fences. Almost everywhere else in the city there were buildings ravaged by fire and rubble was strewn in the streets, but among the homes of the rich it was as if no war had ended just the day before.

They had almost made it to the end of the street before reaching their new home. Everything within the fenced off property looked untouched, and the home seemed to be in remarkably good condition for being uninhabited. Ardanthis opened the lock on the door with the key that Brunwulf had given him and stepped inside. Argis could hear him mutter, "The lock was stiff – definitely unused."

The house lay cold and still around them. The few windows that did exist were covered in dust, dirt, and cobwebs and let in only the palest shreds of light. The hearth say bare of wood but covered in a soot. Most of the furniture lay clustered in a corner and was shrouded under its own thick layer of dust. The elf raised his hand and clenched it into a fist. As light began to seep between his fingers, he opened his hand and brilliant ball of light rose up to float over him. He slowly approached the furniture and gave a fallen over chair a gentle kick. He sniffed disdainfully at it before saying, "It might have once been a nice set of furniture, but the cold and damp have done it in. It's only good for kindling now."

Argis had already begun his exploration of the back of the house, where a small table and two dressers stood. "Love, can I get a little light over here?" he called out. In short order a ball of luminescence was glowing on the ceiling over his head and he took advantage of the light to look through the first of the dressers. "I've got a rotting shirt her and nothing else," he called out. The wizard cast a glance back at the housecarl, seeing that it was true, and returned to examining the rest of the furniture that lay in a jumbled mess.

Argis opened the second dresser and let out a gusty sigh, "Completely empty – except for the cobwebs." He turned to head towards Ardanthis when he stepped on something that rolled slightly under his weight. The warrior stumbled for a moment but caught himself on the dresser. He looked down at what had tripped him and picked up the broken chair leg. With a sigh, he tossed it back with the other furniture. He was about to continue onward but hesitated. Why hadn't the dresser even budged under his weight? He was a well-built Nord in full steel gear. The wooden dresser was heavy and well-made, but it should have moved under his sudden weight. He scrutinized the old piece carefully and tried to move it. It didn't budge. Noticing it was flush against the wall, he called out, "Ard, come here and take a look at this."

The elf hurried over and looked at the dresser and then back to Argis. "It's a dresser, Argis," he said dryly.

The Nord pulled hard at the dresser, which predictably didn't move. The elf suddenly looked intrigued and sheepishly avoided Argis' I-told-you-so gaze. "I think this is hiding something else behind it," said the Nord.

Nodding in agreement, the elf's light gently swung around and completely illuminated the wooden interior. Argis felt along the inside walls for a hidden trigger, but it was Ardanthis whose hand grazed a whorl in the wood. With a soft click, the back panel swung open and revealed a small room. Both men leapt back, and Argis quickly drew his sword. They eyed the darkness tensely, waiting for something to emerge, for a moment before the wizard quickly spun a light into to pitch black room. "Oh gods," the elf murmured, and Argis could only wordlessly agree.

The room's floor was covered in very old blood stains and a skeletal body was chained spread-eagled to a table. Argis carefully nudged the skull with his sword, ensuring that the body was really dead and would not reanimate. Blood stains seemed to coat the floor, and the still air held a residual stench of gore. A cauldron with bones and other bits that could have come from man or mer sat near the table. "Argis, keep your sword out. We're going to check the rest of the house and make sure that who- or whatever did this isn't still around," said the wizard in a low voice.

They left the scene of long past horror and carefully scanned the main room. The wizard gripped one of his blades in one fist and his other hand scintillated softly. His light still obediently following him, but the elf quickly illuminated the entire main room with a soft white light. Satisfied that the floor was safe, they approached the kitchen. Another ball of light quickly illuminated that, revealing it to be empty of any beings.

With nowhere else to go on this floor, both of the men warily eyed the stairs that led up into the darkness. A sphere of cool light shot from the wizard's hand and up the stairs until it hit the far wall and lit up the spacious and empty first half of the top floor. Two dark doorways stood at the far end of the house. Argis eyed the darkness carefully, watching for assassins or undead to shamble out of it. Those two doors must lead to the bedrooms, he thought.

Another glowing light ball landed on the floor between the two rooms, and warrior and wizard braced for an attack. Nothing seemed to be provoked by the light, so they cautiously slipped forward. A short ways before the doorways, they hesitated to do a countdown. Then, with a deep breath, they each burst into one of the rooms.

Argis looked around the small, confined room and saw it was empty. "Clear!" he shouted before rushing over to the main bedroom.

Already well-lit by the wizard, the main bedroom stood empty as well. Only an old bed with mouldering coverlets sat towards the far side of the room. A careful inspection of the room revealed nothing else. Still on edge, the two quickly left the house and locked the door behind them. In a voice as cold as a tundra wind the elf said, "We are going to go back to the good jarl and ask him about why the house has remained unlived in and we are going to get a real burial for that body."

Storming back to the Palace, they quickly re-entered the well-lit chamber. Brunwulf looked up, slightly surprised, "Back so soon? I warned you that Hjerim's interior was in poor shape."

"I don't give a damn about the furniture, Jarl. I want to know why the house has been unlived in for so long. Could it have something to do with the skeletal body and room covered in old blood?" said the elf in a barely reigned in snarl.

Brunwulf sighed deeply, "I suppose you do deserve the truth. That house was where several old murders took place. No one ever found the last victim's body, and the murderer killed himself before he would reveal it to us. Many residents of Hjerim assume it is haunted, but the priests of Arkay have ensured it is not. Thank you for finding that last victim, though. I promise you we will give her a true burial and I am sorry for have deceived you. I was... afraid that you would not buy the house if you thought it was haunted."

"I assume you have the decency to clean up the blood and bury the body without additional cost to me, correct?" said the elf still with his biting tone.

With a resigned nod, Brunwulf answered, "Of course. My apologies, thane, I should have warned you in advance."

Ardanthis nodded and turned to leave the throne room, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the jarl for a moment. Was he being addressed as "thane" as a way of being reminded that he served under the jarl? He was also surprised that the jarl apologized in the first place. Most other people in his position would expect their word to be law and would not give an apology. Perhaps Brunwulf was less status conscious than Ard gave him credit for, or he was trying to play up to the High Elf's sensibilities.

He left the Palace and made his back to the inn with Argis. The rubble was already completely cleared away and he used the main thoroughfare to get back to the inn. Surprisingly, the majority of the patients were gone. Looking around the room, Argis noted how much bigger it looked when not filled with wounded. He mentally sighed as he saw a few Nords sitting around the bar with mugs of mead. He nearly laughed when he realized that some of the patients and once-patients were also quietly drinking there. Well, Nords would be Nords.

A tired looking acolyte in brown robes knelt next to a wounded man and golden light flared from his hands. The soldier who was receiving the benediction stirred slightly before opening his eyes and whispered a thanks.

Ard gestured Argis onward towards the kitchen as the elf lent his own healing power to restoring the wounded. The last seriously wounded men in the hospital were seen to, and the subtle air of worry that had hung over the inn seemed to lift slightly. No one else here would die from the battle that ended the war.

Slipping into the kitchen, Ardanthis saw that Argis was already cooking a goat meat stew over a small, cheerful fire. The Altmer smiled appreciatively and his stomach's rumble echoed that statement. Argis grinned up at his thane, "How you managed to not starve to death without me is beyond me."

Giving Argis a smile he answered, "I ate – but never this well." Eyeing the dirty kitchen floor with distaste the elf said, "With all the wounded being cleared out we should be able to find a free room and a pair of cots, don't you think? I'm going to ask the innkeeper about it." He quickly left before Argis could say that he was actually quite happy with the closeness that they shared when they were forced to stay close to each other on the floor.

The stew progressed well and Argis sat on a small stool, slowly stirring it as he waited for Ardanthis to return. He didn't have long to wait. When the Altmer returned, he was wearing a pleased grin. The wizard pulled up a stool and accepted the bowl of stew that was offered to him. After a few spoonfuls he met Argis' impatient gaze and smiling sheepishly, he answered the unasked question with, "I got us a room. I told the innkeeper our situation, and she let us have a room for a few days until Hjerim is up and running," he gave a small laugh, "She seemed impressed that we were moving into that place."

Unsurprisingly hungry, they wolfed down the stew in the ensuing silence. Picking up their packs, they headed to their new room. Regrettably, the bed had been appropriated for patient use, but two clean cots were in its place. Argis smiled slightly when he saw that both of the cots were pushed next to each other with one blanket thrown over them, making them into one bed. Ardanthis also smiled softly as he dropped his pack back on the ground and muttered, "I didn't even ask her to do that." With sighs of relief they removed their armour and relaxed slightly.

Ard sat down on one cot and patted the space next to him as an invitation for Argis to join him. The Nord sat down hesitantly, unsure of why a sudden nervousness had overcome the elf. Ardanthis took in a breath and paused for a moment before speaking softly, "Argis, I wanted to thank you for last night. I don't know what happened to me. It was like I just got overwhelmed by everything at once and I just- I just fell apart. I remember your arm around me, though, and I wanted to tell you how much it meant to me to know that you would be there to pick me up when I fell."

"Love," Argis began with his usual epithet for the elf before hesitating a moment and saying, "Ardanthis, I did it because I love you. I didn't do it as a housecarl preserving his thane, but as someone who loves his husband and wanting to help that person."

Giving Argis' hand an appreciative squeeze, the High Elf said in a slightly shaking voice, "I know, but I still wanted to tell you that it meant something to me too." They shared a brief but deep kiss for a moment before returning to just holding hands.

They sat in that position for a moment longer before the wizard suddenly perked up and looked at Argis with suspicion. He asked slowly, "Why are all of the other Nords but you drinking?"

Argis laughed lightly at the joke but answered honestly, "I've had a couple really bad encounters with the stuff, so I decided to ease back when I met someone who I liked more while sober than drunk. Although, I sometimes do miss it..." He trailed off wistfully.

"Well, maybe we should get something then. I don't want you to give up something you like just for me. Just don't get blackout drunk, alright? You're a bit heavy to drag back here," the elf said with a playful wink.

Heading for the door, they emerged into a small evening crowd. Candlehearth Hall was nowhere near as busy as it would be in better times, but it had a small crowd looking for celebratory drinks. The innkeeper was busily serving drinks to the men, who out of respect for the injured were quieter than normal. "What can I get you two?" she asked politely. An Alto wine and a mead were her answer. Returning with the bottles and a glass for the wine, she left them to return to other patrons.

Quietly sitting there, the pair enjoyed the ambience and laughter that swirled through air that had once smelled like blood.

The scrape of a bar stool announced one of the men standing unsteadily on his feet. He raised his mug and said in a slurring voice, "You know, you know Ulfric was right!" A wave of dissenting murmurs swept through the rest of the patrons, but the drunk continued on, "The elves are gonna get us. Look at how many grayskins there are in Windhelm. So many damn elves, kill 'em all and kill their damn Dominion."

Many nervous eyes flicked over to the dragonborn, who sat on the other side of the bar and glared darkly at the drunk. The drunk stared back at Ardanthis and said, "Tha's right, elf. I'm talking about you and your pointy ears."

Subtly, Argis put his hand on the elf's hand under the bar. He was unsurprised how hot the wizard's hand burned, but he murmured, "Remember the courier. You'll regret it if you make him right."

"Aw, what's that? Your dog begging you for something, elf?" jeered the drunken man. He turned and said to the crowd, "The elves are smart! They know they don't have to come in here and kill us to conquer us. They can just come here and conquer some men in bed."

Argis flushed red but before he could say anything, or the elf react violently, another barstool scraped along the floor as a different Nord rose up and snarled, "Shut your mouth, wretch. Don't you dare say another word against either of them." He quickly pulled his shirt up and turned to show the rest of the men sitting around the bar a large, ugly, purple welter. Making eye contact with many of them he said, "Do you know how this got here? There used to be a Stormcloak arrow and a damn lot of pain here. These two men, who are so quickly slandered by this fetcher, are the ones who not only saved my life but the lives of many others. Some of you wouldn't be sitting here drinking if it wasn't for them." Rounding on the drunk, he spat out, "I'll be damned if I sit here and let you spew your poisonous words. Sit down and shut up or I'll make you."

The drunk sneered confidently at his opponent and drawled, "You really think you can take me? I could hurt you so your little elf would have to heal you again."

Another scrape echoed loudly throughout the room as a third man stood and looked at the drunk, "You think you can take us both? I owe them my life too, and I don't let debts like that stand unchallenged."

More stools scraped back and in short order almost half of the bar was standing and staring silently at the drunk, who wore an expression of complete shock as he eyed all the men who stood against him. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath and staggered out of the Candlehearth Hall.

The first speaker turned to Ardanthis, who also wore a shocked expression, and said loudly, "I don't care what you do with who behind those closed doors. I care what you do out here, and out here you saved a lot of lives, High Elf."

"Th-thank you," stammered out Ardanthis, still overwhelmed by this unexpected show of support.

The tension in the air quickly dissipated as the drinking resumed. Quickly finishing his wine, the elf rose silently from the bar and headed for his room. Argis downed the last of his mead and followed him into the room.

He entered into a room dimly lit by the fireplace and he saw his husband smiling ear to ear as he slowly undressed. He asked Argis in a giddy voice, "Did you see that? They stood up for me."

Argis gave a small laugh, "See? You can change what they think, not only of you but of other mer. I guess this is what Brunwulf sees in you. But love? I think you're a little drunk right now."

With a careful look at Argis the wizard replied, "Maybe I am a little drunk, but that doesn't matter." His gaze flicked from Argis to the cots and he said softly, "You know, they reallydon't care what we do in here..."

The housecarl grinned at the implied suggestion and moved forward to embrace his thane and kissed him deeply. After all the tension of the last days, he was glad to accept the offer.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

AN: Sorry for tweaking the storyline of the Windhelm murderer back into the past. That quest was a buggy nightmare for me there, so I didn't want to try to write it out here. Plus, it's not really relevant to the plot. Again, all comments and criticism are appreciated. Even if you have something negative to say about it, I would love to hear it.