"Alright big fella. Sleep it off, you'll be better in the morning."
Mo'aksa responded with a groan of acknowledgement before slipping away into a drunken rest. Looking at his crumpled up form uncomfortably splayed out on the bed, Ysolda could only sigh with exasperation.
"Well thanks for helping me get him upstairs. Probably would have taken me 'til dawn to do it myself," she said with a chuckle. The two nords nodded in response.
"No problem. After a performance like that, the least we can do is help carry him to bed," said one with a smile across his face. "It's been quite a while since we had entertainment like that in ol' Hulda's place!"
"Yeah, can't wait to catch the encore tomorrow night, eh big guy?" The other concurred, giving Mo'aksa a nudge on the shoulder. He groaned again and did not lift his head.
"Yeah, not if I have anything to say about it," Ysolda laughed and walked the two out of Mo'aksa's room. "Good night you two," she called after them. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.
She turned back to Mo'aksa'a bed. "Now, what am I going to do with you?" She said to herself, hand on her hips. He turned over and Ysolda saw his tense expression. Eyes still shut, but his lips were curled into a snarl, and he appeared to be muttering something to himself. Was he asleep?
"Saj'oh traajijazeri La'hrashi… Saj'oh traajijazeri fado sahaala..."
Whatever dream he was having seemed to be quite vivid. Ysolda, feeling pity for him, decided to fetch a bucket and some water to keep at his bedside. When she returned, he had flipped the opposite direction and was shaking his head.
"Var'oh siirto vardariit, var'oh La'hrashi. Saj'oh var dar jaadi!" His muttering seemed to be growing more intense.
"Alright you drunkard. I'm leaving now. See you tomorrow," Ysolda said and turned towards the door. Suddenly she felt her sleeve snag on something, and when she turned she saw that Mo'aksa had turned and grabbed her. His eyes were open now and staring directly into her. She felt that icy stare pierce through her skin and send shivers down her spine.
But in an instant those eyes seemed to cloud over or lose focus, and his expression became pitiable.
"Please… kalor vaba La'hrashi? Don't leave Mo'aksa. Saj'oh gada ahziss fano..." he said, and he buried his face into his pillow. His strength seemed to wane, and his grip on her sleeve loosened. Ysolda brought her hands to meet his and held it in her palms. It was very warm.
"How can someone so big and scary seem so helpless? You're like a big kitten," she said quietly, looking at his hand. "I suppose it can't be helped. I certainly can't leave you alone in this state." She ran her fingers from the roots of his hair down to his cheek. His face seemed to relax as she did, which only confirmed what she already suspected: he wanted her to stay. With a sigh, she unlaced the bust support she wore over her dress and slipped it down over her hips, followed by her blue frock. Underneath she wore a white chemise, which was fit enough to sleep in. She sat down next to Mo'aksa and laid her boots next to his at the foot of the bed. Carefully she climbed under the fur blanket and laid down, her face mere inches from his.
With a swish of her finger she extinguished the last remaining light source in the room: a candle next to them on a side table. In the dark room, she could just barely make out his features, his white fur catching the starlight filtering through the slits in the shabby old walls.
Mo'aksa was well and truly beyond rational thought, and had drifted into a restless sleep. Feeling Ysolda's weight as she climbed into the bed, he instinctively curled up next to her and rested his head just barely against her shoulder. She felt his tail brush against her foot, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. He began mumbling, this time in a hushed voice that Ysolda could only just make out, even with her ears right next to his lips.
"Vituransej, fado. La'hrashi…" Ysolda was completely captivated by this utterance, and watched as the light caught a wet pool forming in the corner of his eye.
"La… hrashi?" she mimicked his words. His ears twitched in her direction, but he did not wake. He quietly nuzzled Ysolda's cheek, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. He seemed to be calm now. Eventually Ysolda managed to drift into sleep as well, the two of them at last in tranquil rest, tucked away in this dusty corner of the world.
l===============================l
Mo'aksa awoke the next morning with a searing headache. The bright light of early afternoon sliced through his window and into his eyes, like a laser with a direct shot on his brain. He groaned and tried to retreat under his blanket, but doing so exposed his bare feet to the cold air. Angrily, he threw the blanket off and got to his feet to draw the curtains more tightly, but his eye was caught by a pair of shoes at the foot of his bed. They were tall leather boots with laces, and barely big enough to fit over his big toe.
'Why are Ysolda's shoes in my bedroom?' he wondered as he approached them. Actually, now that he was paying attention, her scent had spread all throughout his room. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened the night before, his ears swiveling as his mind raced. But all he could think about was how groggy and hungover he felt. Whatever happened that night must have involved a lot of alcohol, he surmised.
Downstairs, Mo'aksa heard the clanging of dishes and smelled nord cooking, as per usual in the staff quarters of the Bannered Mare. He didn't see Hulda or Saadia even though by then it was already getting close to noon. But he did catch a flash of red hair from the corner of his eye, and when he turned he saw Ysolda, wearing his fur lined shoes and standing before the cooking pot.
"Good morning! I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get up again," she said playfully.
"You are wearing Mo'aksa's shoes?" he said with confusion as he rubbed his eyes.
"They're so warm! Don't your feet already have fur on them? Why would you need such plush shoes anyway?"
"Mo'aksa has fur but he is still from the desert. He is not used to the cold," he replied. "And his feet get cold when he is out in the snow. In fact, they are a bit cold right now," he continued, raising an eyebrow at Ysolda. She sheepishly slid her feet out of his shoes and kicked them over to him.
"Well aren't you cranky this morning. And after I made you a hangover breakfast, too. Ungrateful! I should just toss it," she said emphatically, grabbing the pot and walking it over to the garbage.
"Aha, well, let us not be rash. No need to waste good food," he said, stepping between Ysolda and the trash barrel. She snickered, and he followed suit. Both laughed together as they sat down at the table and broke bread. It was an unremarkable breakfast of eggs, bread, and a bowl of fresh snowberries. Simple, but with enough bread and protein to absorb the remaining alcohol, and vitamins to revitalize one's energy. It wasn't much, but it got the job done.
"So… ah… what exactly happened last night? Mo'aksa cannot remember," he asked, a nervous grin across his face. Nervously he took another bite of his eggs.
"Hmm I expected you'd ask that. Do you at least remember the arm wrestling competition?" Ysolda responded while eagerly raising another fork full of berries to her lips.
"Arm wrestling… is this why Mo'aksa's arm is sore?" he asked, scratching his chin. Ysolda almost choked up a berry.
"You mean you don't even remember the arm wrestling? You challenged half the men in Whiterun. Even Uthgerd the Unbroken! I've never seen Uthgerd lose an arm wrestle before!" Ysolda was so shocked she had risen half out of her seat.
"Mo'aksa has never been good with the drink… even the littlest sip of ale will go to his head," Mo'aksa said, putting his face into his hands. With a deep sigh, he continued. "I am often getting into trouble because after just one drink I make poor decisions, like continuing to drink more. Drunk Mo'aksa always forgets he cannot hold his booze." He shook his head.
"Oh, then I guess you wouldn't remember the drinking competition you had with Mikael after the arm wrestling?" Mo'aksa looked at Ysolda, completely shocked.
"I did what now?" he said with a panicked tone in his voice. Ysolda nodded solemnly.
"And nothing of the romantic tryst we shared last night?" Ysolda gestured seductively, a playful laugh in her tone. But Mo'aksa abruptly stood and banged his knee on the table.
"I know you jest. Surely." He said, beads of sweat forming on his palms. His ears had turned bright red, and Ysolda busted out with laughter.
"Ok ok, I'm half lying," she said between laughs. Mo'aksa remained standing, her words bringing no ease at all to his expression. "You did lose a drinking contest with Mikael last night and I did stay in your room, but there was nothing romantic about it. You were completely out and I just wanted to make sure you didn't drown in your own puke." She took another berry from her bowl.
"Ah… I see," Mo'aksa rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. "So Mo'aksa lost? Did he at least lose with pride?" Ysolda thought for a moment, swallowed the food in her mouth, and then looked at Mo'aksa with a sympathetic expression.
"You kind of fell flat on your face and had to be carried up to your room." Mo'aksa sank down in his chair and groaned loudly.
"I am never. Never. Drinking again," he whined. Ysolda giggled with a sympathetic smile, and then stood to take the dishes over to the washbasin. Mo'aksa remained crumpled in his chair, his eyes tightly shut.
"Well it was funny, until you were in your bed and you started crying," Ysolda said as she began washing the dishes. She heard a crashing noise and turned to look behind her, where Mo'aksa had melted out of the chair and onto the floor. "Well that's dramatic," she called.
"Crying? Are you pulling Mo'aksa's leg?" he scrunched his fingers in his scalp and pulled on his hair, his expression exasperated.
"Yeah, and you kept muttering something in Ta'agra. Actually, I'm curious what you said. Do you remember at all?" she asked as she returned to the dishes. Mo'aksa groaned again and layed out on the floor.
"No, not a bit," he said. Ysolda looked up and tried to remember the night before.
"Let's see, I remember you saying something like… La… Harashee? No wait, La'hrashi! I think that was it. What does that mean?" she paused her dishwashing to listen, but there was silence in the room.
"You must hear it wrong. There is no such a word as La'hrashi in Ta'agra," Mo'aksa said as he got to his feet and dusted himself off.
"Oh, I guess I could have misheard you, or maybe I'm remembering it wrong," Ysolda said, resuming her washing. She was certain that was the word that she heard that night, but she decided not to press the issue any further. She set the last plate to the drying rack and turned around to find Mo'aksa's chest mere inches from her nose. She looked up at him and smiled. "Um can I help you?" she said with a laugh.
"I hope I did not offend you last night. Mo'aksa is deeply shamed by his behavior. Do not judge him by it," he said shyly. Ysolda stared at his ears for a second, prompting him to flick them around nervously.
"Have you ever noticed your ears turn red when you're embarrassed?" She asked. Instinctively, he pulled his ears back against his head.
"No o-of course not…" he said nervously. Ysolda snickered and then jumped up to grab his collar. Gently she pulled him down to face height and looked into his eyes.
"I like this side of you, this more vulnerable side. You're cute when you're feeling shy," she said looking off to the side. She returned her gaze to his and held it for a few moments. "It was pretty funny to see you lose to Mikael after you completely dominated at the arm wrestling competition. I had a pretty good time watching you, I will admit. Next time though, leave the drinking to the nords, alright?" She punctuated every sentence of hers with a smile, and Mo'aksa couldn't help but feel at ease by this habit. He swished his tail and relaxed his tense shoulders.
"Trust Mo'aksa when he say that he is not planning on it," he replied warmly. "Not anytime soon, at least." Ysolda continued to pull his collar in, her grip tightening.
"Something else you probably didn't know about yourself…" she started, a glint in her eyes. "You fidget the tip of your tail in your sleep. Had you noticed?" Mo'aksa felt his face heat up again. She hadn't much more to say, but standing so close to him like this, she felt compelled to carry the conversation on. "You know, it was pretty nice of me to take care of you in that condition. Isn't there something you ought to say to me? Hm? I'm waiting," she said, tilting her forehead closer to his. Mo'aksa hardly even noticed his surroundings, instead, he was completely captivated by Ysolda's unbroken gaze.
"Moons smile upon you, Ysolda," he said at last. His words were simple, but his expression was complex.
"And what does that mean, exactly?"
"It means Mo'aksa is grateful to you," he continued. Ysolda relaxed her grip and pressed her forehead to his, at last making contact with him after so many moments of proximity. "For many things, he is grateful." The two stood there in the kitchen, holding one another close.
"Hey Mo'aksa. There's something I wanted to tell you last night, but you got so preoccupied with everything that I never got the chance," Ysolda said quietly. The two remained locked in their nuzzle, neither one wanting to be the first to break apart.
"Well Mo'aksa is not busy now," he replied.
"I've got a proposition for you," she said, and Mo'aksa's ears flicked towards her, but as her head was still resting on his shoulder, she didn't even notice his expression change. "It's a very lucrative deal. I'm sure we'll both profit," she continued.
"What is this proposition?" Mo'aksa asked. Ysolda snickered.
"Oh, just a little something from me and something from you. An equivalent exchange, if you will." Mo'aksa's ears twitched again. "But it's risky..." She brought a hand to his jawline and gently pulled him closer. Now that she looked at him, his expression seemed a bit sour. "I just don't know if you're ready to hear about it, or if I might regret bringing it up," she hesitated.
"Mo'aksa is always after good profits," he said through a tense expression. "But after last night, he wonders if he should not be more careful of short term benefits and…" he cleared his throat and hiccuped off to the side. "...Long term consequences..." Ysolda cocked an eyebrow at his tone, but shrugged it off.
"Oh, well that's good to hear… I think?" she replied. She awkwardly shifted her head, and then pulled away from him just slightly. Her face was flushed and held in a very earnest configuration. Suddenly she burst free of her tenseness. "Look, I love playing coy, but this one time I want to just say what I feel, ok?" She pulled Mo'aksa in tightly and looked directly into his eyes. Very plainly, she said: "Mo'aksa, I like you." She stared up at his blank face and waited. What were mere moments in actuality felt like an eternity as she anticipated his reply.
"Mo'aksa likes you too," he parroted, equally plainly. Ysolda made an unsatisfied face.
"I mean that I like you… in a romantic way," she said again, quietly. Mo'aksa's ears perked up.
"Ah… Khajiit likes you, also. In a romantic way," he replied, matching her tone. In an instant her expression switched, and she was beaming. She threw her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. He groaned as though in pain, but smiled and hugged her back nonetheless.
"Ha, I knew you did!" she said as she squeezed him tighter. He straightened his back and propped himself up just enough to pull her toes off the cold dirt floor. "Phew, what a relief to finally have that off my chest!"
Mo'aksa laughed. "Likewise," he said as he gently rubbed the space between her shoulders.
"So then, about my proposition…" she said abruptly. Mo'aksa looked confused.
"You mean… this was not the proposition?" he asked. She shook her head with that mischievous look in her eyes.
"No, I propose that we," she put her hands against his cheeks and pulled his face in close. "...try this," she said, and brought her lips to his. They slowly melted downwards, settling into a position with Ysolda sitting on Mo'aksa's thigh with her hands resting on either shoulder, and Mo'aksa cradling her back and head in either hand. They rested there, peacefully, for several moments.
But unfortunately their moment of tenderness was abruptly interrupted, when Mo'aksa grabbed his mouth and pulled away. His fur stood on end, and Ysolda, confused, stepped back to her feet. He gagged, and then ran up the stairs.
Ysolda watched, mystified, as he ran away. Distantly she heard retching noises carry down the steps, and couldn't help but laugh.
"You're really something, you know that?" she called, forcing the words out between fits of laughter. Somehow she found that she was always laughing when he was around. After several splashing sounds, he came slowly down the stairs with heavy steps. When she saw his rustled fur and tired eyes, she had to try desperately to hold in her laughter.
"Mo'aksa is happy, please believe it," he said, slowly working his way towards her. "But perhaps this was not the best morning to make your offer," he continued as he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you'd take Mo'aksa over a more… respectable man?" he asked. Ysolda shook her head and smiled.
"Nope, this is the one for me," she said, twirling her way into his arms. "Hangover and all." Mo'aksa smiled and hugged her.
"Ah, you may come to regret that." She turned around and reached up to his face. He always felt relaxed when her palm was against his cheek. Her touch was just so gentle, as though she might break him if she was too rough. He loved being treated this way.
"Maybe I mentioned it before, maybe you forgot. But I don't care who you were in the past. The Mo'aksa I know has a strong character, and I trust him," she said. She heard a quiet rumbling sound from within his chest. Was he… purring?
"And you are so attentive to Mo'aksa. You do not fear him, and treat him just like anyone else," he replied.
"I mean, I don't treat everyone the way I treat you," she said sarcastically.
"You know what Mo'aksa means." She nodded. "That affection is rare. I want to cherish it. I must cherish it, if you will have me."
"And you know I will."
They brought their lips together again, only briefly. Mo'aksa felt completely at home standing there, before the hearth, with one he loved securely between his arms. He felt a distant unease looming over him, but every time it almost surfaced in his mind, Ysolda's warmth would call him back to the present, and he'd relax once more. When with her, it felt as though he was invulnerable and he'd be safe from the threats which had repelled him all the way to this cold land.
But how long the feeling would last, neither of them knew. All they knew was that in this moment, they had each other. And that was enough.
~Chapter 10 END~
A/N: We are approaching the end of this part now! Look forward to the finale and a bonus chapter after this. And then... Walking on Warm sands: TWO! Thanks so much for following me this far, I really appreciate the support I've gotten~