"You... have never cut onions?" Shahrava asked. Ervirin shook his head. They were preparing lunch for Velyisa in the kitchen. Shahrava sighed when she took the cutting board and the knife in her hand. "I'll show you. Your eyes might sting when you cut it, but you'll get used to it."
She cut the onion in half. Ervirin gasped. Shahrava looked at his weird, shocked expression.
"Why are you so surprised?" she asked.
"...I've never... seen anybody hurt a plant..." Ervirin said. Shahrava kept staring at him for a moment before continuing to chop the onion.
"You cut them into small dice like this," she said. Ervirin watched closely what she was doing, but slowly his eyes started to sting. He tried to rub them but it made the stinging worse. Shahrava only laughed at him. "I said that it would sting."
Soon Ervirin was sniffling. Shahrava handed him the knife.
"Now you try," she said and smiled a little, or as much as an argonian could smile.
Ervirin took the knife in his hand hesitantly. He pushed it down against the chopping board and heard the crisp layers of the onion cracking. Tears were rushing down his face but he endured it until the onion was sliced entirely.
"Not bad. Now I'll teach you how to cook it."
She took out a pan and put it on the stove. There was a fire going already beneath it. She put some oil onto the pan and threw the onions in there before shuffling them with a wooden spatula.
"It's not very hard. Just don't let it stick to the pan," she said and gave it to Ervirin.
He tried his hardest to shift the onions on the pan, but his eyes were still stinging and the food ended up being a little burnt. She had a huge chunk of meat in her hands that she threw onto the frying pan before seasoning it. Ervirin looked from the side. The spices flew into his nostrils and made him sneeze. He sneezed right onto the meat, making Shahrava glare at him.
"You should know better than to sneeze on the food."
When the meat was done, Shahrava put it on a plate and added some vegetables. She moved the plate to a tray and put a cup of tea on it as well. She handed the tray over to Ervirin who gently took it in his hands.
"Let's go take it upstairs together," she said. "After all, you helped me make it."
Ervirin felt somewhat proud. Sure, he didn't do much, but his father was always the one to prepare food for him and his sisters. He had never even tried it himself.
They walked upstairs. Shahrava knocked on the door gently and waited for Velyisa's signal.
"Come in," Velyisa said from the other side of the door. Shahrava opened it slowly to make as little noise as possible, but it still creaked like a cliffracer. Ervirin walked over to the old man and placed the tray down on the desk that he was sitting at. Velyisa was grumping when the boy stayed there. He took the hint and took some distance.
Velyisa took a piece of the meat into his fork and chewed on it. He was chewing on it for a long time before spitting it back out on the plate.
"Did you do something to the recipe?" he asked. Ervirin turned to look at Shahrava who stood frozen in place at the door.
"...What do you mean, master?" she asked timidly. Velyisa picked a small piece of an onion with his fork and raised it in the air.
"It tastes... burnt," he said.
"...I'm sorry, master, I'll be more careful next time," Shahrava said. "I'll prepare you a new one immediately."
"You do that," Velyisa said. Ervirin turned around and took a step towards the door. "You stay."
Ervirin felt his heart stop. He turned back towards Velyisa.
"You prepared the onions, didn't you?" he asked. Ervirin nodded slowly. "I knew it. Shahrava would never make such a mistake. She's been my slave for decades, she knows how I like my food. But you..."
Velyisa took the cup of hot tea and threw the liquid onto the boy. Ervirin closed his eyes rapidly before feeling the burning water on him. He hid his face but shortly after he felt a stinging pain on his body before collapsing onto the ground.
"If you don't learn the ways of this house soon enough, I'll haul your entire family here! And where are your manners?! You should address me as your master! You can't just walk into my room and not say a word!" Velyisa scolded him. Ervirin felt his body shake uncontrollably and he felt tears on his cheeks. He protected his head with his arms as he was whipped again by his master. "Stop irritating me, you stupid dwarf. I already told you to always ask for my permission, and that includes putting anything on my desk!"
Velyisa took a deep breath. Ervirin peeked through his fingers to see him putting away his whip.
"Make yourself useful and learn how to keep the place tidy. Leave the cooking to Shahrava. Otherwise I will sell you off to somebody else and replace you with the rest of your family."
Ervirin took a deep breath and stood up, biting his lip. With a shaky voice, he finally said, "Yes, master," and left the room. When he was outside the room, he bit his teeth into his palm and pushed back the tears.
When he had calmed down for a bit, he looked up to see the door of the opposite room slightly ajar. Varovil was peeking at him. He only stared at him for a while with his red eyes before closing the door gently.
Ervirin tiptoed down the staircase. He walked back to the kitchen where Shahrava was making a new meal for the master. She heard his footsteps.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It was my fault. You can sweep the floors and dust the place."
Ervirin did as he was told and walked to the cleaning closet which Shahrava showed him that morning. Maybe this was a task that he wasn't going to fail at.
Lately, all Ervirin was good for was crying. At night, when he could finally rest, he was crying into his palms. His back and wounds were aching and his hands were dry and hoarse. He wondered if it would ever get better, if there was a way for someone to get used to this way of life. He didn't have to enjoy his life, if only he could have made it more bearable.
Shahrava didn't even look at him. She was holding a book in her hands. Sometimes she flipped a page, and it made a soft sound. Sometimes she licked her finger to help her flip the pages a little easier.
The door was opened and closed. Ervirin didn't need to look to know that it was Varovil. Velyisa wouldn't have moved so silently - no, Velyisa would have yelled and waited for the slaves to come to him.
The boy placed a book on the nightstand where a lantern was standing.
"Here's the book, just like you asked," he said.
"Thank you, Varovil," she said with a smile. "You're too kind."
"You're just saying that because you don't have a lot to compare to," he said.
"I raised you well," she said. Varovil smiled and glanced at the boy crying behind him.
"Is he... alright?" he asked.
"He's been like that every night. That's how I was when I was sold to your parents, too."
"Hmm," Varovil hummed. "Is there... anything that I could do... to make it better?"
"Ask him, not me," Shahrava said and continued to read the book in her hands. Varovil sat down on the floor next to Ervirin's mattress cross-legged, leaned his elbows on his knees and put his head into his palms. Then he just observed the poor bosmer crying. "I don't think that's helpful, Varovil."
"Oh, right," the boy said. "Ervirin...? What's wrong? If there's anything I could do to help, let me know. I'd do anything to make you feel better."
Ervirin sniffled and turned around slowly. He wiped the snot on his face and looked at Varovil's face. He looked tired and worried. He looked like Velyisa but not like Velyisa at the same time.
Somehow Varovil's gaze was comforting.
"I... would like a thicker blanket..." he said with a small voice. Varovil stood up abruptly.
"I'll get you my blanket. It should be thicker. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you'd need a thicker one sleeping on the floor," he said and ran off. He was running again with a little too heavy steps and Velyisa yelled his name once to make him stop it. His steps became a lot quieter then.
He came back to the room with his blanket and gave it to Ervirin. Ervirin gave him his blanket.
"I'm sorry... I... cried... into it..." he said and proceeded to cry into the new blanket. It was thicker. And it smelled like Varovil.
"No, no, I'm sorry I got myself grounded and couldn't get you a real bed in time. I promise that once my father lets me out again, I'll get you a real nice bed!" Varovil said with an upright attitude. Ervirin just kept staring at him. Varovil raised his shoulders slightly and smiled sweetly. It was the sweetest smile Ervirin had seen in probably his entire life.
Suddenly his red eyes didn't look so intimidating anymore. They even reminded him of his sisters.
"I'm gonna head back to bed. Good night," Varovil said.
"Good night," Shahrava said back to him. Ervirin didn't say anything. He just watched as Varovil left the room and he turned back towards the wall. Shahrava was still reading.
He didn't feel so bad anymore.
Shahrava was grocery shopping and Velyisa was at the docks. Two weeks had passed and Varovil no longer needed to stay inside, so he got Ervirin a bed earlier that day.
Ervirin had to clean the entire kitchen while Shahrava was away. It was a gruesome task that he was supposed to handle on his own, but Varovil was always around trying to help. Sometimes Ervirin wondered if he had nothing better to do than spend all his time with his father's slaves.
It didn't matter, though - Ervirin appreciated the company. Just knowing that there was someone else there with him as he scrubbed the kitchen's counters made him feel just a little safer and less lonely.
"So... you're from Valenwood?" Varovil asked.
"Yes," Ervirin replied.
"I've heard that the trees there are really big, and tall..." Varovil said while he was scrubbing a pan in a basin full of soap water.
"It's true," Ervirin said. "Elden Root was like a really big tree in which the king lived."
"That sounds amazing," Varovil said. "We don't have a king. We have counselors working for each of the ruling houses. Then there's the living gods..."
"It sounds complicated," the smaller one said. Varovil laughed.
"It is complicated."
The bosmer didn't dare to speak more. He felt comfortable enough around Varovil, but he still wasn't sure what he was permitted to say or when it was okay to talk. Varovil did assure him that whenever Velyisa wasn't around, he could talk about anything to him. Ervirin only looked at his dry hands.
"Can I ask you something?" Ervirin asked quietly.
"You already did," Varovil laughed. Ervirin ignored it.
"Where's your mother?"
"Don't know," he said. "Maybe she's dead, maybe she left - she just disappeared. Or so I've heard."
"What do you mean?"
"Apparently she was a big fan of the sea. Always sailing. Then one day she left to sail the oceans and was never seen again," he said. He still had a chirpy attitude and when he turned his head slightly, Ervirin could see that he was smiling. To him it sounded tragic and sad.
"I'm... sorry. You must miss her," he said. Varovil raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't know her. Or at least I don't remember knowing her. How could I miss somebody I never knew? From a young age, I thought that Shahrava was my real mother. Then Shahrava told me about my... real mother, and I was confused. To me, Shahrava has always been my real mother," he said. "What were your parents like?"
"...When I was a kid, I got very sick. I almost died. My mother looked for all the ways to cure me, and days later she brought me a potion that made me feel better instantly. Then she lulled me to sleep and told me to never worry. That was the last time I ever saw her. Apparently, she had to pick a plant from its roots and mix it into the potion," he said. Varovil now turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"What happened to her?"
"The forest is alive in Valenwood," he said, "it's very picky about how we bosmer treat it. We can't eat plants, we can't pick flowers, we can't chop wood... And if you do, you suffer the consequences."
"...What... are the consequences...?"
"You give your life to the forest," Ervirin said.
"Oh... I'm sorry..." Varovil said quietly. He kept scrubbing the pan. He had been scrubbing it for so long Ervirin was convinced that he scrubbed a hole in it. "What about... your father?"
Just the thought of his father made Ervirin uncomfortable. He bit his lips.
"He... was a good father. Until he... Well, he let me become a slave. And it's not just that - he was so ready to give me away, to a stranger in a faraway land. It made me feel like... like all those good times we had were a lie," Ervirin said.
He closed his eyes and pulled back the tears. Varovil was quiet for a moment before he spoke with a quiet voice.
"...At least you have good memories of your father," he said.
Ervirin didn't reply. He continued to clean the kitchen like they had never even spoken at all. Still, there was understanding between the two.
Ervirin was outside tending the garden. There were a lot of weeds to pull out and raking to do. The crop was good. He still couldn't fathom how they could eat these plants, but Velyisa seemed pleased about the way he interacted with nature. It also felt good not to be yelled at all the time.
It was already evening. When Ervirin turned around, he was startled by Varovil sitting next to the garden. He was hugging his knees while staring at the other boy and what he was doing.
"How long have you been there?" Ervirin asked.
"...A few minutes," Varovil said with a thoughtful look on his face. "You get so enticed with your work. I don't even know how to keep plants alive. Father doesn't let me learn, either."
The corners of Varovil's lips dropped immediately and he looked into the distance with glassy eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said with a shaky voice. He started to shiver, but it wasn't cold. "I'm scared."
"...What are you afraid of?" Ervirin asked.
He was raking the field outside the Rethilnith home. Varovil looked at the rake as it scraped the ground back and forth and took a deep breath.
"My father. I know that you're scared of him, too. And Shahrava, too..." he said quietly. Ervirin stared at him for a moment. He was visibly shaking, like he was cold, yet he wasn't.
"He's... very aggressive," Ervirin said. Varovil let out a breath.
"That's... putting it lightly."
"...Has he always been like that?" Ervirin asked. Varovil nodded.
"As long as I can remember."
"Has he always... treated you... like that?" Ervirin asked. Varovil nodded again. "...I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Varovil said. "And it's not like I'm being treated very differently than other kids. And I've still got Shahrava. She... she said that it might make me feel better if I told you. If I... told anybody. But I don't understand... What's the point of telling anyone when everybody knows? Yet they think it's normal, that it's discipline..."
Varovil sighed.
"Not like anyone cared at all," he said.
"...I'm sorry," Ervirin said. "For what it's worth... I care. I can't do much, but you can talk to me."
Varovil turned to look at the other boy. Ervirin tried to smile a little for the first time during his time in Sadrith Mora. It felt unnatural. It must have also looked unnatural, since Varovil didn't dare to look at him for more than a couple of seconds.
"I can talk to you whenever my father isn't aroun-"
"Varovil!"
Velyisa's yell startled both of them. The boys froze solid in place and just stared at the ground. Velyisa walked over to them sternly. It felt like the earth quaked as he walked.
"Why are you here talking when you should be inside-"
"Doing what? Nothing?" Varovil asked but silence landed in the air. He slowly raised his head to see his father but he was met with the palm of his hand. The slap echoed in the vicinity. Despite the echo, nobody turned to even glance at them, except one old woman who was a little too interested in the way this situation would escalate.
Velyisa grabbed his son's wrists and pulled him up.
"Studying! If you're going to inherit my company, you must know what you're doing!"
"But how will I learn if you never let me see anything?" Varovil asked. Velyisa smacked his lips distastefully.
"What do you want to see? Boring business talk and paperwork?"
"I guess... It sounds..." Varovil said with a quiet voice. Velyisa raised his eyebrow.
"It sounds...?"
"...Boring," Varovil said. Velyisa uttered a laugh.
"Do you think working is fun? Or that it should be fun? You staying in your room all day studying is not any different from what I'm doing."
Varovil didn't say anything. He just stared at the ground.
"Now, go to your room before I give you a beating. Let the slave do its job and don't bother it," Velyisa said and let go of Varovil's wrists. "You're always in everyone's way."
Velyisa glared at Ervirin who pretended like the man's presence didn't disturb his work. Ervirin's hands were full of blisters but it didn't stop him. After a while, it even stopped hurting.
Varovil went back inside with his head hanging and his father escorting him. Ervirin looked up once to see the other boy glancing behind himself and shooting him a defeated look.