Ysolda and Mo'aksa exchanged gold several times after their night together by the creek. With each period of a week or so, their meetings grew longer and longer. Mo'aksa would bring her the sap, and she the coin, along with a question or two about his homeland. She used to ask Ri'saad the same questions, but he always refused to answer her, claiming that Khajiiti history was a closely guarded secret. Mo'aksa seemed to have no such reservations, and indeed, relished the chance to share his culture with her. She learned of the lunar lattice and the many different forms khajiit can take, he taught her bits and pieces of Ta'agra, the language of the khajiit, and told stories of the varied landscapes in Elsweyr. Perhaps he had realized that sharing the things he missed about Elsweyr put his heart at ease, or so Ysolda surmised.
On one cool afternoon, Mo'aksa shared how he longed for khajiiti cooking, finding nord cuisine to be flavorless and dull. On his next visit, Ysolda presented him with a plate of sweetrolls fresh from Hulda's hearth. Mo'aksa excitedly took one and bit into it, only to immediately be overcome with disappointment.
"What is this? It hardly tastes of anything!" he cried. Ysolda, in complete disbelief, grabbed one and took a bite of it herself.
"What do you mean? It tastes fine to me," she said with her mouth full, enjoying the bready texture and the sweet sticky frosting that coated her tongue.
"Do you nords have no sense of taste at all? It is just bread with sugar on top, this is hardly a dessert," said Mo'aksa, setting his roll back on the tray.
"Well geez, sorry I brought them out!" she replied, taking another indignant bite of her roll.
Mo'aksa sighed loudly. "Now Mo'aksa misses his home even more…" he looked down at the little sweetrolls and got that same wistful expression, as he always did when he thought of Elsweyr. "All the food in Elsweyr is sweet, for it is made with J'me'ath, the moon sugar. But Mo'aksa hears that moon sugar is illegal outside his homeland, so it is impossible to make the food he wants in Skyrim," he shook his head. "Such a shame."
"When you told me you had a sweet tooth, I didn't realize you meant for moon sugar!" said Ysolda, smiling. "But hey, that just means more sweetrolls for me. All's well that ends well, am I right?" she chuckled, but looking at Mo'aksa, she began to feel a bit sorry for him. She finished her roll and shook the crumbs off her hands, watching them cascade into the creek. "Well, suppose you were able to get your hands on a bit of moon sugar. Would you be able to make the food you're craving?"
At this, Mo'aksa ears perked up, and he turned to face Ysolda. "Well yes. Mo'aksa loves to cook, actually," he replied.
"Let's make a deal, then. I'll provide you the ingredients, and in exchange you'll let me try some Elsweyr-style cooking!" Mo'aksa smiled widely and nodded with excitement. "I'll see if I can sneak you into the city so you can use the kitchen in the tavern. I bet if we dress you right, you can make it past the guards." Ysolda rapidly spat out various details of her plan, flitting back and forth as she thought through the minutiae of their meeting. Mo'aksa smiled and followed along, his mouth watering at the thought of again tasting the food of his youth. The two agreed to meet on the day of their next deal, two weeks hence.
"Mo'aksa will look forward to this meeting," he said, instinctively taking Ysolda's hands in his, gently but with a firm grip, and shaking them emphatically. Ysolda felt her face flush as he grabbed her, and she was distracted by the feel of his hands. The coarseness of his palms was contrasted by the softness of his fur, and though his hands were more than twice the size of hers, his grasp was very tender. Mo'aksa saw her face clam up and turn a shade of pink, reminding him of the boundaries he had obviously crossed. He let go of her immediately, interlocking his fingers at the base of his tail which had begun swaying nervously. He cleared his throat. "Right, well, Khajiit should be leaving now…" he said, awkwardly.
"Yes yes, I'm sorry to keep you. See you in two weeks," said Ysolda, quietly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The two said their goodbyes and parted ways, but they both felt distracted for the rest of the day. Ysolda couldn't seem to focus on her customers at the market, and Mo'aksa allowed the wolf he was hunting to scamper off completely unscathed.
A few days later Ri'saad and his caravan arrived in town, and like clockwork, Ysolda appeared just after they had finished setting up their camp.
"Aah, Ysolda! Come come, I am working on my ledger and I want to teach you some calculation tricks," Ri'saad called as he saw Ysolda enter his tent. He sat at a small collapsible table with a ledger book open before him. Ysolda shook her head and drew in closer. Ri'saad caught a whimsical look in her eyes.
"I'm actually not here for lessons today Ri'saad, I've come to make a purchase."
"Oh really? What is it you're in the market for?"
Ysolda bit her lower lip nervously. "I was hoping to buy a few lumps of moon sugar off of you." Ri'saad was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You're not getting into the skooma trade, are you? I advise against it, as it is a much more dangerous business than your sap project. Skooma is very addictive for your kind, and many ill-prepared dealers find themselves a bloody mess before long," he explained, curling a whisker around his finger.
"Actually, it's for that white khajiit I told you about a while back-"
"You mean the one who tells you of things that non-khajiit should not know of?" Ri'saad cut her off, frowning. Ysolda often told him about her meetings with Mo'aksa, and each time Ri'saad tried desperately to convince her to cut ties with him to no avail. The further he pushed for her to sack him, the more she dug her heels in to keep him around. She put her hands on her hips defensively.
"Yes, the very same." she had an indignant tone to her voice. "He was telling me about how he misses Elsweyr cuisine, and he said that if I brought him a little moon sugar he would make something for me to try." At this Ri'saad let out a long, disgruntled sigh.
"Not all recipes from Elsweyr contain moon sugar, it is crass. Only someone of the lower class would put it in their food," Ri'saad picked up his quill and continued writing in his ledger, shaking his head as he wrote.
"Oh gee, a wandering hunter who lives out of a tent coming from a poor background? I never would have considered that!" She crossed her arms.
"Ysolda you're being naive. Obviously he is using you to get moon sugar for himself. This won't be the last time he asks you for it, I am sure," his writing became quicker and more intense as he spoke.
"I know you're suspicious of him, but you haven't gotten to know him like I have. There's nothing to be so concerned over!" Ysolda's tone began to rise, but Ri'saad refused to look at her. "He's been nothing but kind to me, so I see no reason to distrust him!" Abruptly, Ri'saad slammed his quill down and stood up from his seat.
"Nothing to be concerned over you say? A skilled khajiiti hunter appears out of nowhere in Skyrim of all places, stumbles into your drug trade, refuses to speak with his own kind or anyone else, and you say there is nothing to be suspicious of?" Ri'saad drew closer to Ysolda on each breath, Ysolda shrinking back as he spoke. "Khajiit warns you again and again to avoid this one, but instead you spend hours playing on the river bank, to the extent that the nords come to me asking where you've gone!" Ysolda perked up at this comment.
"Who came asking where I was?" she asked meekly.
"I don't know his name, but he was quite annoyed-"
"What did he look like?" Ysolda held Ri'saad's gaze, creating a tense air between them.
"Ah I don't remember. Blonde? Carried a pipe?"
"A pipe? Or was it a flute?" This time Ysolda took a step in.
"You're missing the point!" Ri'saad put his hands on his head, exasperated. "An all white cathay-raht? Skilled in combat? Hiding away across borders? Did you know there is an enormous bounty out right now for one such a khajiit?" Suddenly Ysolda's firm expression began to soften, and she looked into Ri'saad's eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
Ri'saad sighed again, this time a bit more gently. "I didn't want to tell you about this because I thought you would make the right judgement on your own, but I suppose I overestimated you," he said. Ysolda shrank into herself, but listened closely to every word, even though they stung to hear. "A few years back there was a massacre in a village, deep in the badlands of Elsweyr. Being so remote, no one found the bodies until several weeks after the crime, when a trading group passed through the village. Every single person, men, women, and cubs, all killed gruesomely." Ysolda's face grew pale as she listened to his story. "At first, they thought it was some beast of the wastes, but they checked the citizen records and found that only one was not accounted for: an all-white cathay-raht, at the time having just entered his 23rd year. They couldn't find him, and put a price on his head. The officials want him to be brought back to Elsweyr alive to be questioned, and they will pay a lot for anyone who can do it."
Ysolda was quiet. She stood at the center of the tent, looking down at the ground with her arms slack at her sides. It couldn't be true. How could the gentle man she had traded with these past few weeks be a secret murder? There had to be more to the story.
"Of course, we cannot know for sure if he is the one. But even so, everything about him is suspicious, and even if he is not who I fear he might be, you should really find someone else to take his place," Ri'saad said. He came up to Ysolda and put his hands lightly on her shoulders. She looked up at him with a troubled expression. "I know you like him, I see it in your eyes. So I will give you the moon sugar, but on one condition." Ysolda nodded along. "When you see him, you will carry on as if you knew nothing. Enjoy yourself until you are satisfied, and then when you are done, tell him that you have found someone else to do the job. Understand?"
"And once I've fired him, who's going to get the sleeping tree sap for me?"
"There are plenty of adventurers and mercenaries who visit Whiterun every day, pick one. You can probably drop your prices too, I doubt a nord warrior has the wit to drive up the fee like the khajiit one did," he explained. Ysolda looked off for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement. "Good girl. I know it is difficult to let go, but you're letting your feelings get in the way of your business. It's because you lack experience, in time you will learn to avoid these situations." He patted Ysolda on the head, and she sighed.
He walked her over to the counter where he pulled out a small bowl with a little wooden lid. Inside was a chunky white powder which reflected the sunlight as the lid was removed. Ysolda placed her coins on the table and took the bowl, nestling it securely in her bag before thanking Ri'saad and walking back to the city, her head filled with all manner of thoughts.
She entered her home and shut the door behind her, setting the moon sugar out on the table before flopping down into her bed. The furs it was lined with grazed her cheek, and she was reminded again of the feel of Mo'aksa's hands. She still couldn't believe the story Ri'saad had told her, much less that Mo'aksa was the man responsible for such a grisly crime. He was large and imposing on the outside, but even after their first conversation, she could tell that he was no threat to her. He had trouble counting his coins, he knew lots about the stars. He kept away from strangers, but around Ysolda he was a fountain of conversation. He had his secrets, but then so did everyone. She started to realize how much the thought of parting ways with him pained her, and found herself surprised at how fond of him she'd grown. She decided that Ri'saad had to be wrong, and that when she did meet with Mo'aksa again, she would ask him about his past to put these fears to bed.
A loud knocking on her door roused her from her thoughts. She looked around her dark little cabin, wondering if she had dozed off at some point as the late afternoon light had already given way to dusk. The thudding continued as she got up and peeked through her front window to see who was outside. She caught only a faint shadow of the figure at her door, and in a bit of a haze from her rest, she decided to simply unbolt the door and greet her unexpected visitor.
However, as she slowly swung the door open, the figure grabbed it and slammed it against the wall. It pushed into her home, backing Ysolda up against the table where her bag still rested, next to the little wooden bowl she had picked up from Ri'saad. She panicked and tried to reach for the short knife she kept at her side, but she was too slow as the assailant grabbed her by the wrist and forced her to the floor. It all was happening so quickly; she tried to call out for help, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she felt a heavy thud on the back of her head, and at once she lost all of her strength.
She felt the figure bind her hands and wrap her in a sack. As her consciousness faded, she felt them lift her up and carry her out of the house. She wanted to scream or cry or struggle, but all she could do was watch the faint glimmers of moonlight flitting in through the weave of the sack slowly fade away to complete darkness.
~Chapter 4 END~