Solitude
"There's someone you need to meet, tidbit," Arnbjorn explained the next morning. "Cordula is an Imperial woman who works for us from time to time. Not as an assassin, but she keeps her ear to the ground and informs us when there are possible contracts. She knows a lot of people here and she can open doors for you."
Nessa nodded and sipped at her tea. She was glad she'd found some Dragon's Tongue herb in town. It was a useful contraceptive tea. "Where should I meet her?"
Arnbjorn handed her a note with an address. "Here you go. Have her go with you to Radiant Raiment and help you pick out clothes." He handed her a bulging purse. "Don't worry about paying Cordula, she's been compensated already. This should get you what you need and a little extra." He kissed her on the forehead. "Now go get some pretty clothes."
"I wish you'd come with me instead," she said.
"I can't. Besides, I have terrible taste in clothes. I'd end up dressing you like a Khajit hooker. Trust Cordula, she knows what she is doing." He swatted her on the fanny. "Go on, now."
She flashed a smile back at him. "All right, but you'll come to my room tonight to see what I've bought?"
"Wouldn't miss it for anything," he said, already thinking about what she would be wearing under those clothes. "Get some nice smallclothes, too. Something… sheer."
Nessa saw the gleam in his eye and knew he was intending to enjoy them, or at least her in them. It wasn't nice, but she had to do it. "Oh! Good idea. The commander will like them." She giggled and skittered out the door before Arnbjorn could retaliate for the remark.
She felt light as air as she crossed through the inn toward the door. Her thoughts were still replaying part of the previous night as she made her way through Solitude looking for Cordula's house. Solitude was something of an anomaly. It was quite far north, farther north than Winterhold, yet the weather here was exceptional. There was a warm ocean current that kept the place protected from the snows and storms common to most of the north. Here there were flowers blossoming of the sorts that usually only bloomed in the south. No one really understood why the weather was so nice there and yet so horrible in the rest of the north. It only added to Nessa's carefree mood.
She was just turning a corner to go down yet another street lined with flowering shrubs and singing birds, when it struck her.
I love Arnbjorn.
How could this happen? A week ago she'd been deeply depressed over losing Astrid's affection and now she was thinking only of Arnbjorn.
I still love Astrid… don't I?
She searched her heart and found the feelings still there but muted and distant.
Am I really this fickle?
What about the whole reason behind this affair? The purpose had been to win back Astrid and this path seemed like their best hope. Could it really work? Wasn't it likely that someone would become jealous of someone else and the whole thing would collapse? She tried to imagine Astrid and Arnbjorn together and felt jealous, but of whom? She closed her eyes and tried to think of the three of them together. That brought a smile to her lips. A few days ago she couldn't even have imagined half the things she and Arnbjorn had done, much less what the three of them would do in bed. Her imagination had plenty to work with now.
Maybe there's nothing wrong with loving two people.
It was a new thought and it kept her occupied until she reached the edge of Solitude. Then she realized she'd walked well beyond her destination, but it was a beautiful view. She stopped for a few minutes and let the cool sea breezes play about her face. She watched the clouds scud across the sky and the birds dipping and diving to catch insects. She loved the whole wide world in that moment and Solitude especially. Life was very, very good.
But she had a man to kill. Back to business, she left the sea wall and got back on course to meet Arnbjorn's contact.
Cordula was an Imperial woman perhaps a decade older than Nessa. Her face lit up when Nessa mentioned they were going to Radiant Raiment to go clothes shopping.
"Oh! Excellent," Cordula said, "They have the finest styles in all of Skyrim. We'll have you looking like a princess in no time."
Looking like a princess sounded lovely to Nessa, but she knew that wasn't what they were after. "I just need to look nice to catch a man's eye."
"Ah!" Cordula appraised her critically. "You'll make a good lure. You certainly don't look like an assassin. Who is the target?"
Nessa felt strange talking to an outsider about their contract, but Arnbjorn trusted her. "Calvus Liore, do you know of him?" She lowered her voice, not wanting to have anyone overhear them.
"Of course." Cordula smiled at Nessa. "I told Astrid he likes Nord girls and you certainly fit the bill. He usually makes a special arrangement with a girl he likes. He puts her up in a little house, pays her expenses, and she takes care of him, if you catch my meaning." She laughed merrily. "That is, until they fall pregnant, then he sends them away with a tidy sum as long as they promise not to bother him with the bastard."
Nessa shook her head; she was beginning to dislike the man already. "Does he have a woman now?"
Cordula shook her head. "No, now that you mention it, he doesn't, and he hasn't for some time. That isn't like him. Well, he is getting on in years, perhaps he's losing interest, or his equipment isn't working." She shrugged. "Or maybe he just hasn't met the right girl. You're fresh meat, though, so he might just go for it."
Nessa furrowed her forehead. Fresh meat? She didn't like being described like that. How do I get him in bed if he's not interested? They passed a store on the way called Angeline's Aromatics. "Cordula! Can we stop here? I'd like to buy a scent."
The Imperial woman nodded. "Oh, good idea. Some sandalwood and musk might help your cause." She pushed open the door and Nessa followed.
Angeline was a sweet older woman. When Cordula suggested sandalwood or musk Angeline dismissed the notion out of hand. "No, those scents are more popular with women of a certain reputation. Your friend is a sweet, young woman. A floral scent would be more appropriate."
Cordula looked vexed at that comment. "I wear sandalwood myself. The old lady doesn't know what she's talking about," she whispered to Nessa.
Nessa smiled at Cordula, but let Angeline show her what she had in mind. Eventually she found one she really liked. It was floral but with a touch of muskiness.
"The musk is collected from the scent glands of female horkers in heat. Some say that it is an aphrodisiac for man and mer. If you wear too much of it, you'll have Khajiit following you around yowling," Angeline explained. "Now, the florals are a bit of lily-of-the-valley and, oddly enough, dragon's breath smells really nice on you. This is your own personal scent, Nessa. I won't sell it to anyone else."
The idea of having her own personal fragrance was exciting. She bought that and some of the ingredients she would need for healing potions and sleeping draughts. She paid for the purchases and asked for them to be delivered to the Winking Skeever. She waved farewell to Angeline.
The clothier, Radiant Raiment, was owned by two Altmer women, the sisters Taarie and Endarie. Like many Altmer, they considered themselves superior to all other races and voiced that opinion loudly and frequently. Nessa was a particularly flawed specimen by their assessment. Her shoulders were too broad, her neck was too long, and she didn't have any bosom whatsoever.
Nessa was starting to wish she'd brought her daggers with her to shut the Altmer sisters up permanently, but by the time they finished pulling clothes off of racks and putting her into them, she had to admit they were geniuses.
"By the eight, girl, despite all your shortcomings we did manage a major miracle. Don't you think so, Taarie?" Endarie said, pinning a dart into the dress they'd chosen for her.
"Yes, dear sister. This shade of blue is divine on her, even with her terrible skin." Taarie looked critically at Nessa. "You really should stay out of the sun, my dear. You've got freckles." She shivered in horror as if freckles were a contagious disease. "Be sure to wear a broad-brimmed hat and gloves any time you venture outside. You must keep your skin covered at all times. Then it'll be milky white, like mine." The proprietress gestured at her own pale face and chest to show Nessa how one should truly look.
"We could disguise her lack of breasts with ruffles," Endarie suggested.
"No ruffles," Nessa said shortly. She hated ruffles. They reminded her of old women.
Cordula nodded in agreement. "I think a corset and some padding could enhance her in that region."
The sisters shrugged and admitted that it could work. They began to hunt through their collection of corsets. "What about this one, sister?"
"Ha! That would never fit this Nord's waist. You're thinking wood elf, dear, we're dealing with an oversized barbarian here."
Nessa shared a secretive murderous glance with Cordula.
"What about this one?" Taarie pulled out a cream-colored silk corset. "Maybe underneath and the top of the corset and some of the arm straps can show?"
"Oh! Off the shoulder… I like it!" the other sister exclaimed. "I think that might work. We'll lower the neckline on the dress and expose her shoulders to show off the corset and her assets, such as they are."
The sisters turned their attention to Nessa and ordered her to strip once again. They descended on her with the corset, dress, tailor's chalk and pins. In a matter of moments they'd marked up the dress with white lines.
"That's it then!" Endarie dusted chalk off her hands looking extremely pleased with herself. "Demure, yet enticing, don't you think, sister?"
"Well, as much as these large-boned races can be," Taarie said.
Nessa put her own clothes on, anxious to get away from the shop before she indulged in the murderous fantasy playing through her head. She put a deposit on the dress and they promised to have it on the morrow.
As she and Cordula were leaving the store, a red cloak caught Nessa's eye. It was a deep, glorious red, like wine, or blood. It practically shimmered in the light. She stopped and ran her fingers over the fabric. It was smooth, like silk, and had a lovely sheen. "Cordula… look!"
Taarie saw the two women admiring the cloak and approached them. "Do you like that? The color is called sangoire. Beautiful, isn't it? I made this for another Nord woman, but she never came to collect it."
Nessa reverently lifted the cloak off its hook and put it on. It fell luxuriously around her shoulders and was exactly the right fit for her. "How much?" she asked, hoping she could afford it.
Taarie bit her lip a moment. "Three hundred, since you've been such a good customer."
Cordula laughed harshly. "That's robbery, Taarie. You know you can't get more than a hundred for that. Take that thing off, Nessa. We're leaving."
Nessa's face crumpled. Three hundred was far too much for her to afford, but she'd have willingly paid it if she had the money. She reluctantly took it off and hung it lovingly on the hook.
"One hundred? For sangoire-dyed cloth made from imported Jarring? You can't be serious!" Taarie said.
Cordula laughed harshly. "This is just some polished linen and the dye comes from river betty scales. The color is last year's fashion, Nessa. Come on, let's go."
Taarie knew Cordula was right, about the price if nothing else. "One fifty, but only if you promise never to tell Endarie."
Nessa looked at Cordula with pleading eyes.
Cordula pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "All right, but put a white fox fur trim around the hood."
Nessa watched Taarie's pallid skin flush a most unbecoming color. "Very well," she sputtered. "Fox fur? Endarie will simply combust!" She took the cloak off the hook and glared at the pair. "It'll be ready tomorrow. Now leave before I rethink this!"
Suppressing an enormous smile, Nessa hooked her arm through Cordula's and they quickly left the store.
"Cordula! You're a genius! Thank you!" Nessa folded the smaller Imperial woman into a hug. "I love that cloak."
Cordula shrugged. "If there's one thing we Imperials know how to do it is to bargain." She looked pleased at the Nord girl's enthusiasm. "You'll be all ready for your commander soon."
~o~o~o~
Arnbjorn hadn't been idle while Nessa and Cordula shopped. He'd been seeking out whatever information he could find on the commander and his habits. Liore lived in a rather splendid home called Proudspire Manor. He had a small staff of servants working for him including a cook, a housekeeper, and a groundskeeper. His shipping business was thriving and he'd become very wealthy. Liore also had a sizeable stake in the East Empire Company. Several nights a week he spent evenings in a tavern near the palace, frequented by Imperials, especially officers of the Imperial army.
Judging from the looks of the clientele going in and out of the tavern, Arnbjorn would be noted as an outsider. The only Nords he saw going in and out looked to be courtiers, the wealthy, and a few bards, as their college was across the road.
A crazed old man approached Arnbjorn as he was checking out the tavern.
"The flame of my master burns low. Without him we are all lost and forever gray. Please, help him!" The old man tried to clutch at Arnbjorn's shirt, but he pulled away and bared his teeth, growling.
"Get off. Sithis take you and your master."
The old man shrunk away from Arnbjorn, gibbering insanely, careening off in another direction to harass someone else. That was fine with Arnbjorn. Damn good reason to avoid cities for all the beggars and mad men that inhabit them.
As he lurked around the tavern he noticed that the nightshade was in bloom. He smiled to himself. If Nessa were here she'd pluck every flower before he could blink an eye. He considered picking the flowers and bringing them to her but thought better of walking through town with them.
The sun was beginning to set and the hawks that circled over Solitude were returning to their roosts. Hunger began to intrude on his thoughts. He was tempted to slip out of town and hunt. Something about being cooped up in the city drove him a little crazy. He wanted to run, nose to ground, smelling the spoor of his prey. He needed that life and death contest that ended up with his teeth buried in the fur of his quarry. He missed the hot soup of blood that spills from a heart taking its last beat.
He almost swerved for the city gates, but another need pulled him to the inn. Later, he promised himself. He purposefully didn't think about how this other, newer need was contravening his hunting instinct.
He ordered dinner, exchanged pleasantries with Sorex and retired to his own room. Watching his window until the guard had made his circuit; he slid it open and went quietly to Nessa's window. It was unlatched which meant she was in. He could feel himself quickening already at that thought. He quietly opened her window and slipped into her room.
Her room was dark, but for a single flickering candle. She was sitting in a chair, wrapped in something… he couldn't quite make it out. She stood up and then he realized it was a cloak. She pulled the hood of the cloak up, over her hair and peeked at him with that shy smile she had. As she stepped into the candle light he saw the cloak was dark red and the deep hood was trimmed with white fur.
"Hm, fancy new clothes, bit." His nose caught a keen new scent. Pleasing. "Perfume?"
Nessa nodded. Her hands clutched edges of the cloak and held it together. "Do you like it?"
Arnbjorn shrugged. "I like you better without clothes." He reached for her and pulled back the fur trimmed hood and unclasped the frog on her cloak. It fell off her shoulders, but she still clutched it close to her chest. The deep red color was a marked contrast to her pale skin. It was plain now there was nothing underneath it.
"Do you remember that childrens' story of the little girl with the red cloak?" Nessa asked, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
Arnbjorn's chuckle came from deep within his throat. "I do." He plucked Nessa's hands away from the cloak and it fell, pooling around her bare ankles.
"Goodness, what big eyes you have, grandmother," she recited the well-known fable.
"The better to see you with, said the wolf." Arnbjorn leered at her.
"What a big mouth you have," she murmured.
Arnbjorn grinned, his incisors showing. "The better to eat you with." He grabbed Nessa and nipped her neck as they collapsed together on the bed.
~o~o~o~
The hunt was forgotten for a time, until she lay in his arms, both of them sated. She turned her face to his and smiled.
"What is it, bit?"
"Nothing. I'm just… happy. Two weeks ago I begged a woof to rip my throat out. I wanted to die." She sighed and kissed him gently. "Are you happy?"
The question made him want to jump out the window and kill something. He knew the answer, but he didn't like examining it too closely. The room seemed too small. She was too close. Air. He needed air. He pulled away from her and stood up.
"What?" she asked. "Did I say something wrong?" There was a look of alarm on her face.
"I need to hunt." That was all he could think to say. He began to pull on his clothes. He would drop them somewhere outside when he changed to a wolf.
She sat up in bed, her brows furrowing. "I don't understand. There's plenty of food, we're in town. You don't have to hunt here."
He turned on her, a snarl on his face. "No, you don't understand." He finished dressing and turned to the window. "Liore frequents the Imperial tavern. Start hunting him there. He lives in Proudspire manor." He delivered the information she would need to get on with the contract.
She grabbed one of his boots held it hostage. "What don't I understand? Why are you angry?"
Arnbjorn ignored the boot and made for the window. Climbing out of it, he disappearing into the dark.
Nessa watched him go. After he vanished into the night she sat down on the bed cradling his boot. Her thoughts went around in circles and tears began to well up in her eyes. What did I do? All she'd done was ask if he was happy. He seemed like he might have been. They'd been making love at every opportunity. All right, he wasn't the sort of man to laugh and joke, but he did smile sometimes and lately it seemed like he smiled more often.
She finally threw the boot out the window and slammed it closed and locked it. "Stupid woof," she said. The anguishing pain of loss and rejection began to overwhelm her. "I don't need him!" She picked up her own boot and threw it at the door. The hollowness inside her belied that statement.
"Gods damn him!" she wailed and pounded at her pillow. "Gods damn him!" Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. "I love him!" She collapsed face first into the pillow and clutched it desperately. "Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!" She had lost herself again and once again had been rejected. She wept into the pillow until it was soggy and she was hiccupping.
Stop!
From somewhere she found the resolve to stop crying. Even as her mind wanted to recast and relive everything, seeking a clue into his strange behavior, she refused it.
I have a job to do.
The thought made her stronger. She got up from the bed and went through the jars of poultices and potions looking for the one with the closed eye. She found it and poured a little into a glass of water and drank it. She wouldn't let this keep her up all night. Picking up the sangoire cloak from where it had been discarded on the floor, she folded it carefully. By the times she reached her bed the world was getting fuzzy around the edges. The pain of Arnbjorn's sudden departure was lessening and sleep seemed like the only constant lover she'd ever had. It dragged at her, pulling her down.
Is this how it was for Kesh? Not a bad way to go.
~o~o~o~
The beast took Arnbjorn completely. He followed a hare in a mad race until it finally escaped into its burrow. Then he was after a doe with a fawn. He let the fawn escape but he brought down the doe. He wasn't hungry, but he savaged the ungulate just to feel the hot blood soaking his muzzle. The moon was huge in the sky that night. He snarled at it, then barked, and howled. Far away, he heard other wolves taking up the call.
Let them come.
It was his first man-thought since leaving Solitude… since leaving her. It opened the door for more.
Am I happy?
He snarled again at the question and surged to his feet and darted into the woods again. Stupid girl. Stupid question. He crashed through underbrush, leaving behind tufts of fur, looking for… escaping from… all of it.
Another hare foolishly crossed his path and he was after it, his jaws snapping at its hind-end, but only closing on fur. Pounding through the woods, he cornered the hare who froze, staring its death in the eye.
Astrid understood those times when he couldn't keep the beast at bay. Little surprise since she had her own savage nature. But Nessa… she didn't really know this side of him, not like his wife. You don't question the good times. You don't examine your feeling, you just live.
The hare broke and ran and he let it go. He sat down on his haunches to soak in the wildness of the night and think, something not easy to do as a beast.
This was the crux of the problem: He was happy and he hadn't intended to be. The girl was supposed to be tolerable not someone he wanted to fall asleep with in his arms. She was supposed to be Astrid's girl, not his, and he was supposed to be Astrid's husband. It was going awry in ways he'd never anticipated. There had to be some distance. He'd lost himself, but it all came crashing back when she'd looked at him, so happy and content.
She's for Astrid, not me.
A gray form crashed through the underbrush and paused to growl at him. Yellow eyes gleamed in front of him and to both sides.
They came.
The sounds of a terrible wolf fight filled the air.
~o~o~o~
Cordula could scarcely believe the somber young woman who greeted her in her finery was the same one she'd meet two days ago. Nessa seemed distracted and tense, nothing like the cheerful girl she had been. They walked together that evening to the "Legion's Rest", the Imperial tavern that Liore frequented. Just before they got there Nessa's face changed. She began to smile and laugh although Cordula could see there was pain in her eyes. The girl was a fine actress.
They were just in the midst of the dinner hour and Nessa ordered meals for them both and they took seats in the middle of room at a small table. It was a good way to get noticed. And noticed they were. Several Imperial officers sent them drinks, one paid for their dinner, and after they finished dinner, they were both asked to dance.
Nessa had had several tankards of ale and it was definitely affecting her judgment. The attention from the Imperials soothed the sting of Arnbjorn's abrupt leave-taking after they'd made love the night before. She'd been nursing a grudge all day and by the time night rolled around she was ready to have a good time just to spite him.
Liore didn't come to the tavern that night. A handsome young Imperial officer gallantly offered to walk Nessa back to the inn and she let him. She leaned on him, and he supported her with an arm around her waist. They laughed at everything and nothing and he kissed her in front of her door, but she wouldn't let him in. She didn't need Liore to hear about the new girl being an easy conquest.
She went to her room, latched the door and collapsed into a chair.
"He sounded far too young to be Liore," Arnbjorn said.
Nessa jumped, startled out of her drunken reverie by his voice. "You! How'd you get in? I locked the window."
"I noticed. I came in through the door. It was locked too, but I opened it anyway."
Nessa got up and lit a candle and saw Arnbjorn lying on her bed. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out hunting?" Her voice was cold. He didn't think he could just come back did he?
Arnbjorn got up slowly, grunting and holding his arm across his belly. In the candlelight Nessa could see how terrible he looked.
"By Talos, what happened?" she gasped. She sat next to him and looked at the gashes on his hands, neck and face.
"Ran into a wolf pack while I was out last night. Didn't realize there were so many." He chuckled and then winced. "I killed five of them before they ran."
"You're an idiot," she said. She grabbed a half dozen bottles and jars out of the armoire where she'd carefully stored her potions, powders and unguents. "Undress," she ordered him.
"You sound remarkably like Astrid." He pulled his shirt off, showing a long, deep gash on his belly. There were bite marks on his arms. "I heal quickly. You should have seen me last night."
"Then why didn't you come to me last night. I could've had you fixed up by now."
"I thought that might be a bad idea," he admitted.
She wet a cloth and began cleaning his scratches then dabbed them with healing potion. "Why? Because you ran away from me like I had rock joint fever?" She poured an unnecessarily large amount of potion over one deep scratch because she knew it would hurt.
He grit his teeth and moaned. "Easy, morsel."
"Easy… morsel. Pah!" Nessa's fuzzy drunkenness gave way to anger. She began to jab at the scratches with her cloth and wiping them roughly. "Why did you even bother to seduce me if you're just going to run from me?" She picked up the bottle of stinging healing tonic and held it menacingly over the large gash on his stomach.
He grabbed her wrist to stay her hand. "Wait…." He eyed the bottle nervously. "I'll try to explain."
"Do," she said, her tone icy.
"I'm a wolf, bit…"
"So I've noticed."
"Let me finish. I can't deny my nature too long or I get reckless, take on whole packs of wolves, that sort of thing."
Nessa eyed him suspiciously. "You ran out of here like your tail was on fire and you couldn't have just explained that first? You're not telling me everything." She tilted her hand and some of the potion ran into his wound. He flinched, hissing with pain.
"Ow, bit… There's more. Stop." He had to admit there was something in her mood he liked. She was growing up. This wasn't the same shy little girl that would retreat if you looked at her wrong. This girl… woman… wasn't so desperately eager to please as the same one that came to the Sanctuary a few months ago.
"I'm waiting, woof." She still held the bottle but dropped her hand.
"You asked me if I was happy…." He paused, not sure how to proceed.
"And apparently that question is so terrible it chased you off," she scoffed.
"It was, because I am happy. If you ever say I said that, I'll deny it to my dying breath," he growled.
"Being happy is such a terrible thing?" she asked, shaking her head in wonder.
"I don't talk about my feelings, I don't even think about them. Okay? It's not my nature. Just accept that things are the way they are or change them. Don't need to go around examining them. You do that, you find things aren't what they seem."
She sighed and went back to dabbing at his wounds, being a little more careful. "Fine. I won't ask you about your feelings anymore."
He knew he needed to tell her, but he knew this would hurt her. "I didn't mean for it to be like this. We both got too carried away. You're Astrid's girl, not mine. I'm her husband. I think we both forgot."
She paused in her work and stared at nothing. "Then what was all this for? I thought it was to see if the three of us could be… together."
"It was… is. I was forgetting the initial reason for why we are together. We forgot her." He watched her face, wondering what the blank expression was concealing.
Nessa blinked slowly trying to understand what he wasn't saying. "I haven't forgotten, woof." Did he sense that she had developed feelings for him? "But you're wrong, I'm not Astrid's girl."
The vehemence of that statement surprised him. "You don't love her now? Two weeks ago you were ready to die for her."
"I didn't say that I don't love her." She got up and put the bottle down on a table. She went to the window and leaned against it. No, she still loved Astrid and now she loved Arnbjorn too. She fell in love entirely too easily. She'd lost herself in it only to have her heart broken twice now. No more of that.
"I belong to myself, but love where I will." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to meet his stare. She felt emboldened by the alcohol and the utter loss she felt when he had left. It had taught her a hard lesson: Keep something back, protect your core. "That's Astrid…." She hesitated, feeling far too exposed. "And you." Having said it she crossed back to him and sat beside him on the bed.
Her hands glowed with restoration magic and she did what she could with the deep gash on his stomach. She gave him a potion to drink. "You'd better go to bed. You'll need your sleep."
He looked at her puzzled by what she'd said. Did she just say she loved him? He picked up his shirt and held it, not putting it on. "Do you want me to stay?" It seemed like a gulf a mile wide had opened between them. One he had made.
"No," she said decisively.
He put on the shirt and went to the window. "We'll talk tomorrow night, Nessa."
She blinked. He never called her by her name. She wondered what it meant. "Maybe. Goodnight, Arnbjorn."
~o~o~o~
The next day Nessa decided if she was going to pretend to be Melia she should enroll at the Bard College. She met the garrulous headmaster and he showed her around. She promised she would start taking classes next week, but meanwhile would like to get to know the city better.
Having made her introductions she excused herself and walked toward the Blue Palace. Proudspire Manor was on the way. She slowed down and idled in front of it admiring the garden. If Liore came out, she would compliment him on it, but he never came out. She wandered around town for several hours and finally went to the docks. She had no doubts she looked out of place at the docks, but she wanted to get a look at the man.
It was finally the dinner hour and she wandered back to the Legion's Rest and stopped in for dinner. She looked around the tavern and saw an older man sitting with what looked like an Imperial officer. Suddenly Nessa froze. The officer was General Tullius. He had been supervising the sham trial where she had nearly been beheaded.
Gods! What if he recognizes me?
Then she thought it was very unlikely he would remember that girl in rags. Tullius's interest had been in Ulfric. She was just one of his soldiers, or was supposed to have been. No, there was no way he could remember her. Still… it made her nervous. The terror of that day in Helgen was never far away.
When the server came to take her order she got the special of the day and a bottle of mead. "Who are those men at that table?" she asked quietly.
"Oh! That's Commander Liore, and General Tullius. They're old friends," the barmaid said. She took Nessa's order and returned with a steaming plate of food and a mug of cold ale.
She ate her dinner and took occasional glances at the pair of Imperials. Once she caught Liore looking at her and she smiled shyly and looked away quickly.
Staring at her dinner, she pretended to possess a shyness she no longer had. While she studiously avoided eye contact, a bard began to play The Age of Aggression. She was getting sick of hearing that song. They played it everywhere in Solitude. In fact, with General Tullius in the tavern, this was the third time the bard had repeated the song.
The last bit of meat pie disappeared off her plate and she quaffed the last of her drink. Should I leave? Do I dare approach the two Imperials? Perhaps I could pretend to be an awestruck by Tullius. Or I could pretend that I recognize Liore. She was considering all her options when the barmaid returned to her table with another drink.
"The gentleman you were inquiring about earlier has sent you a drink and is paying for your supper," the barmaid winked at Nessa and sat a tankard of Black-Briar mead on her table. "They'd like you join them, if you wish."
"Oh!" Nessa smiled at the barmaid and turned another shy smile toward Liore's direction. She daintily wiped her mouth then walked to the table with the two older Imperials.
They both turned to watch her coming; both had friendly, welcoming smiles on their faces.
"My thanks, gentlemen," she said softly.
"Please join us," Liore asked. "I believe you're new to Solitude?"
Nessa felt her face flushing. She didn't like talking about herself, especially considering that everything she would be say was a lie. "Yes, sir. My name is Melia Eriksdotter."
"We'd be honored if you'd join us," Tullius said. He got up and pulled out a chair for her.
She could really feel her face heating up now. What if he recognizes me? She sat at the table and glanced shyly at Liore. He was smiling broadly and looking at her with interest.
"I'm Caius Tullius," the general said, he held out his hand and Nessa placed hers in his. He brought it up to his lips and brushed it with them barely. "I think I know why I recognize you now."
Her thighs tightened, ready to eject her out of her chair and run for the exit, while adrenaline surged through her body and her heart raced. "Oh? I don't believe we've ever met." Gods preserve me… That day in Helgen flashed before her again and she wondered if she might end up beheaded in Solitude now.
"I was in Whiterun recently. I'm sure I saw you there," he smiled at her warmly. "Please, call me Caius. My companion here is Calvus Liore, one of my most trusted advisors."
She relaxed at last and smiled graciously. "Perhaps you did see me there. I do remember hearing you were at the hold." She turned her smile on Liore. "Pleased to meet you too, sir."
"Calvus will do, lass." He also took her hand but just shook it.
"What brings you to Solitude, Melia?" the general asked.
Nessa looked at the general wondering why he was so talkative. It was Calvus she wanted to engage in conversation. "I'm enrolling in the Bard College, sir… Caius."
"A bard?" Liore said. "I told you so, Caius. She has the look."
"Just because a girl is pretty doesn't make her a bard, Calvus," he replied. He turned to Nessa. "Can you sing?"
She shook her head. "Not well, sir. I do need some lessons, that's for certain."
Calvus Liore shook his head. "That's what they go to school for, Tully. Not every bard pops out of the womb with a golden voice."
Nessa laughed and smiled warmly at Liore. "You have the right of it. I am a sorry singer, as yet. My bardly ambitions might be beyond me, but I am determined to try my best."
General Tullius put his hand over Nessa's. "Pah, I refuse to believe it. A girl as fetching as you must have a fine voice. Let me hear you sing The Age of Aggression."
Nessa's heart flipped wildly in her chest. She hated that song and had never really paid close attention to the lyrics. "Well, really… I would hate to disappoint you, sir. My singing skills are…."
"Nonsense, girl." General Tullius stood up and motioned to the performing bard to come to their table. "Play The Age of Aggression, lad. This girl is joining your college and I want to hear her voice."
"Yes, sir!" The bard struck a few opening chords on his harp and paused, waiting for Nessa to begin singing.
Nessa fell silent and took a long swig of mead. "I'm not so good at lyrics," she said quietly. She madly racked her brain, trying to recall the lyrics. It was a drinking song, wasn't it? About soldiers, bravery, and such?
"We drink to our men, both short and long."
She paused, thinking quickly of something that would rhyme.
"For the age of aggression is not very fun."
Tullius and Liore looked at one another and exchanged a meaningful look. Nessa began to panic and it made her mind go completely blank. What the hell is next? Ummm… why are the Imperials here? Because of Ulfric, right?
"We'll squish Ulfric's head and stomp on his liver."
That definitely wasn't right, but it fit the music.
"With grit and courage his blood will flow downriver."
Ah! The refrain… how'd that go? Something nasty about Ulfric.
"You're bad, bad Ulfric, you did really bad things.
When you die we'll laugh and we'll…hmmm…hmmm… sing!
We're the fighters of the Imperium and we battle all our lives.
Because Ulfric's Stormcloaks steal all our… chives."
Words abandoned her midway, but it rhymed. Chives? Why chives?
The bard's harp trailed off, unable to follow Nessa's singing any longer. "Well, that was… different."
Tullius and Liore stared at her a moment then burst out laughing.
"I don't know, my dear," Tullius picked up her hand and squeezed it with his own. "I think that might be the best rendition of that song I've ever heard." He turned to Liore. "We'll squish Ulfric's head and stomp on his liver?" He wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes. "Brilliant, dear Melia!"
Liore nodded. "Yes, that was quite entertaining."
If Nessa hadn't been flushed before she certainly was now. She knew she'd made an absolute fool of herself no matter how gracious they were being. Her confidence deserted her and she stared at the table top. "Oh no, please. It was horrible, but my father wants a bard in the family so… here I am."
Liore and Tullius exchanged another glance and then Liore rose. "Pardon me, my friend. I'm an old man and I can't carry on like I once did. If you'll excuse me, and you too, charming Melia." He made a polite bow to her and winked at Tullius. "Don't forget what you owe me, Tully. I did see her first."
He's leaving? Panic shot through her. What does Liore mean? "I hope my singing didn't chase you away, sir. If I promise not to sing again, perhaps you would stay?"
Liore laughed heartily. "No lass, your singing was the highlight of my evening. I am afraid I must go."
"If that was the highlight, it must have been a very bad evening," she said, hoping to change his mind.
He picked up her hand and brushed it with his lips. "Nonsense, Melia. I expect you to sing for me again soon. In fact, perhaps Tully will invite us both to dine with him and then we can listen to your rendition of the Age of Oppression."
"You're fishing for an invitation, Calvus," Tullius said gruffly. "Very well, tomorrow night. You just like Maven's cooking."
"What's not to like? Maybe I'll propose to your housekeeper this time. I think she likes me. I'll get her to cook for me one way or another." Liore smiled at Nessa and turned to leave. "I'm expecting you there, Melia. Don't disappoint us."
Nessa shifted in her chair, not sure what to do. The wrong man had left. "I should probably go." She was still terrified he would remember her from Helgen.
"Of course, my dear." Tullius's smile was warm. "I will walk you home. Solitude is fairly safe, what with the Imperial army here, but I won't have you walking home alone at night."
His tone didn't leave it open for debate. She stood and gathered her cloak, but he took it from her and draped it over her shoulders. They walked out of the tavern together. Nessa was all for galloping as fast as possible back to the inn, but the general had a slow stroll in mind. Not to be rude, she matched his pace. They walked slowly and he asked her questions about herself, which she answered but deflected the attention onto him. Finally he stopped walking and turned to her.
"It seems were both far from home and alone." He took her hand and kissed it gently. "I have a wife and children, of course, but a soldier gets lonely, a general, particularly so."
Oh gods, no, Nessa thought. Not him!
"I find you very charming and beautiful. I can't offer you marriage and I don't know how long I'll be here fighting this damnable war, but perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?" He continued to hold her hand, as if he were proposing to her.
Her mouth went dry. The man who would have watched her being beheaded a few months ago was proposing—well, sort of—to her now. It was… hideously ironic. She felt sick to her stomach. "I… We just met tonight, sir. My father expects me to become a bard…."
"Of course, dear Melia. You can continue to go to school when I'm not in Solitude." General Tullius was a military man, used to making quick decisions, but he understood how overwhelming such a thing would be to a young woman. "You don't have to decide tonight. I am a patient man."
Nessa relaxed a little. She could put him off indefinitely.
"By tomorrow night is soon enough. When you come to have dinner with Liore and me, you can tell me then." He put an arm around Nessa. "I promise, Melia, you'll never want for anything. I'm a generous man."
Tomorrow night? She shivered, even though it wasn't that cold out. Unfortunately that gave the general reason to pull her closer.
"You're cold? You Nords usually seem quite impervious to the chill. Perhaps you have some Imperial in you."
Not yet, I don't. It struck her as funny and she nearly broke out in a hysterical laugh. "Perhaps if we walk, I'll warm up." She just wanted to get back to the inn, to… no, not to him. She was still angry with Arnbjorn.
"As you say," the General said, tucking her hand around his arm and resuming their stroll across Solitude.
He talked on of all he could do for Melia. There was a cute little house he owned where she could live. He'd hire a housekeeper so she could focus on her studies. A generous monthly stipend would ensure she wanted for nothing and he would even pay her tuition at the Bard's College.
When they finally reached the inn they stopped just outside.
"I will consider it, General Tullius…"
"Caius, Melia."
"Caius." She smiled at him and held out her hand, thinking a friendly handshake was in order.
The general looked at her hand a moment but shook his head decisively and instead kissed her quite vigorously.
The nausea that threatened to overtake her earlier came back. His kiss was a battle charge at a well-defended fortress. Nessa put her hands on the general's chest and pushed him away gently. "I'm… Not yet, Caius. This is so sudden."
"Ah, it is so rare to meet a reticent maiden in these times. I forget myself."
You mean a frustrated assassin. Nessa blushed and deposited a quick peck on the general's cheek. "Goodnight, Caius. Thank you for the escort."
"I'll send a note around tomorrow with the details of dinner." He gave her hand one more squeeze and left.
The inn felt like a true sanctuary after this disastrous evening. Nessa bought several bottles of mead from the innkeeper and took them to her room. She intended to drink until she passed out.
~o~o~o~
To Be Continued…
Notes: This chapter got rather complicated and took much longer than I thought it would. I keep thinking I'll get out of Solitude and back to Sanctuary with each chapter, but then something else happens. It's a quagmire, I tell you! I did listen to the request that this assassination not be so easy… bwahahaha! Poor Nessa.
My thanks to Heiwako (who awesomely reviewed every chapter!), Biff, Zevgirl, Janele, TheOtherLaChance and Carrp for your reviews. Getting them means a lot to me. By the way, I really recommend Heiwako's stories, if you like the Dark Brotherhood theme.
Writing is having to share time with Mass Effect 3, which I'm finally playing. So… review and shame me into writing. :)