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Ship: Takasugi Shinsuke/Sakata Gintoki

Rating: T

Length: 3,659 words

CW: Major character death, Canon divergence

#post-Joui war #Joui4

Summary:

GinTaka oneshots part 5 | Punching someone is surprisingly intimate 2/2

Summary:

Chapter 1: What’s worse? Being haunted by ghouls of blood-soaked battlefields or being the target of Gintoki’s constant pestering? Shinsuke is trying to figure it out.

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Chapter 2: The White Demon never thought there’d be a time he would be spending this much of a day thinking about a boy– his friend and his dear rival, no less

Rating: T

Length: 19150 words

CW: Graphic violence

Trash - Sakata Gintoki/Reigen Arataka

Summary: Gintoki and Reigen meet and hook up at a club, except they’re both so pathetic that they can’t get very far.

Rating: E

Length: 2493 words

GinTaka - win some, lose some

Summary: A part of him really hates catering to Gintoki’s teasing and commands. Another part of him does it anyway, with some reluctance and shame, because it does tend to be rewarding.

Rating: E !!!

Length: 2408 words

GinTaka oneshots part 4 | glimpse of us

Gintoki/Tsukuyo + Past GinTaka

Summary: Gintoki doesn't want to wallow in the hurt but that's all he is good for.

Rating: M

Length: 1259 words

GinTaka oneshots part 3 | promise of a life time

Summary: Gintoki is pissed off about being so infatuated, and it drives him to act unreasonably. He's pushed to realize maybe it’s finally time to set things straight, because the circumstances of the war are changing and everything feels indefinite… Except for his feelings for Shinsuke. Those, he has begrudgingly realized, are not transitory.

Rating: M

Length: 4,120 words

GinTaka oneshots part 2 | fulcrum

Summary: In the afterhours of a drink-fueled Joui banquet, Shinsuke slightly fails to understand the multitude of reasons on why Gintoki is acting so weird tonight, but he does get there eventually. Even learns some new things about himself in the process.

OR- Shinsuke is learning to deal with casual affection while Gintoki is pining in plain sight.

Rating: M

GinTaka oneshots part 1 | Stupid

Summary: Gintoki is being an ass on a Joui mission but this time he gets majorly rewarded for it.

Rating: E !!!

Length: 3,077 words

“So you’ve made your decision?”  

Byla was looking up at him, to where he was standing on top of the stairs leading to the doorway. She pursed her thin lips, annoyance and disappointment clear on her wrinkled face.  

Fen nodded and looked down, he couldn’t look at her anymore. His stomach twisted.  

Somewhere near merchants were yelling their phrases and hooves thumped against the dirt.

Fen had dreaded this day. The day when Byla would decide she’s had enough of the city and longed to be back on the road. On that day, today, he would have to tell her he was not coming along anymore.  

Byla grumbled and waved her hand in air dismissively. “Foolish boy. Don’t be looking so guilty now. I knew this day was coming.”  

She shook her head and for a moment looked like she was about to get nearer to him. Instead she stayed still, next to the already sattled horse carrying all her baggage for the journey. They had had to downsize after the carriage broke. The horse could carry only so much of her books and equipment.

“I don’t have it in me to travel much longer anymore anyway.” She raised her hand to stroke the gilding’s smooth brown fur. It answered to her touch with a soft neigh and impatient movement.  

Fen couldn’t count how many times he had ridden the mount across hills and highways. How trustworthy, stubborn and  dear it was.

He frowned at Byla’s notion.  

“I’m old. Tired. I wish to retire to a remote cabin with a meager field to grow and nourish some plants and vegetables. Become the bitter, secluded old witch I was destined to be.” she let out a weak cackle and turned her head to meet Fen’s eyes now that he had raised them.  

He had never thought of her becoming old. Byla was ageless, relentlessly energetic and determined. At times, as if possessed by mania, she rushed to discover new things and whip knowledge into his brain. The thought of her just sitting by alone somewhere, day after day. Calmly living her life…farming. It almost made him smile.  

The way Byla was looking at him, perished the kindling amusement he was feeling. There was now sadness in her eyes, and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.  

This bond they had cultivated now for years, was still an unexplainable one. Neither showed their affection openly, even though it was obviously mutual. Byla resorting to nagging, Fen to indifference, perhaps too often. They found comfort in each other.

He would lie if he’d said he didn’t think of her as… some kind of mother figure.

Now, at the time of their divergence, Fen felt confused about Byla’s reaction. Even if he stayed here, it wouldn’t mean farewell forever?  

“I despise the influence she has on you.”

She let out and Fen could not but to roll his eyes immediately. It had to come to this topic eventually.  

“Come on…” he said, splaying his arms open.

Like an ember lit inside her, Byla continued, “All she knows is to be a hedonistic, selfish creature and she’s dragging you into her habits.”

Her tone was sour, but said with spent aggression, as if she’d said it a hundred times before.

Fen sighed.  

“I just feel like I can be useful here. I’m making a living, I’m having fun. Do you want to forbid that, too? I’m sorry I can’t become the next Arch-mage.” he shrugged and let out a bit more dramatically than he meant.  

He was frustrated at her attitude towards Maeri, her own daughter, and the business she was successfully running. He knew how to take care of himself. He knew what to expect.

Though the ever-changing scenery was exciting, travelling with Byla was safe… and slow. He almost didn’t dare to admit he craved for a place to belong. Somewhere to build himself up.  

”I wasn’t tutoring you to be. Only to give you direction, a chance. I know you to be better. I know you to be kind and hard-working… when you want to be.”  

“I’m working hard, I’m making a change here. She gives me that opportunity.”

He felt aggravated. Why couldn’t she just be happy he was finding his own direction in life?

Still pursing her lips she nodded, her stance becoming less rigid as if in defence.

“I am not telling you not to stay. Do what you want with your life. Just, do it for yourself, not because of her.”

Fen looked away again and crossed his arms. His chest hurt, a nulling emptiness pulsed within it. He wanted to be angry that she didn’t believe in him. But he knew she did. More than anyone had ever before.

Was it guilt he was feeling? For leaving her, abandoning his studies she had so carefully conducted?  

She said she had expected this.  

Byla sighed softly, almost chuckled. She turned to face the wind, the gates of the city and the hills rising far beyond. A breeze played with the loose grey hairs on her temple.  

“I guess...all I was wishing was to have someone to help me plant the yams and roots.”

It hit his heart, a sadness surging from deep within. Fen sniffled, suddenly having trouble holding in his tears. It felt too raw, too final.

A journey’s end.

He wanted to say he’d come, he’d help, but she knew that already.  

Though she would never ask him to.  

He wanted to– he needed to thank her. But what words could ever be enough? She had given him a new chance in life. Cared for him, saved him.

He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.

Byla gave him a last glance. It pierced him. She turned to straddle the patient mount, fastened the saddle’s belt.

Startling into action, he strode down the stairs.

He dove in to hug her. Standing, he was only a little bit shorter than her anymore. Leaning against her chest he suddenly didn’t want to let go. Words were stuck in his throat. She held him, gently and close.

When they came apart, Byla’s face was twisted up. She didn’t cry, she never had. He knew she was feeling the same. Her fingers lingered at the tips of his hair for a second.  

Then they looked at each other, painfully bittersweet.  

He helped her get on the horse and patted its side the last time.  

”Be careful.”  

Byla said in almost a whisper. He nodded, tried wearing a reassuring smile.  

After hours of futile twisting and turning in the half-empty inn-bed, Elam had got up.  

Now he was sitting on top of his harnessed guar, starting out into the grassy hills. Asking directions to the Dwemer ruin in the middle of the night had proved quite the task.  

Fortunately, he remembered seeing some landmarks and signs along the road they had traveled to the town. All he had to do was trace back and find the right way.  

The full moon was lighting his path.  

After a while he reached a crumbled tower, Dwemer in its design. Following past it, the ancient minesite unfolded.

He dismounted and approached.

There were two lonely tents standing a distance away from the entrance. A guar and a horse were pasturing next to it.  

The tents were decorated with a strange insignia. The roof of the other was starting to dilapitate, but the structures were still intact.

Elam pushed away the flap to peek into the longer one. Not much remained inside – some boxes, a desk with drawers and papers splayed on top of it. A modest wooden field bed in the corner. Some grass had started to grow on the trodden ground.  

He sat on the bed, suddenly feeling anxious and out of place. The lining of the mattress was coming apart, he traced the escaped threads with his fingers.

Fen had told him to stay. Commanded him, so resolutely. He who usually was more than docile with him.  

He began to understand why he had wanted to avoid Maeri. She seemed to totally function on motives of self-interest. He couldn’t quite understand the bond they shared.  

How could Fen expect him to stay away? To go on without worry? The only thing keeping him from barging into the ruins was fact he didn’t really want more interaction with Maeri.

Elam curled up his fists and pushed them into the mattress He had never felt quite the anger burn inside him. It seemed to smoulder all the way up to his heart. Mixed with worry, it felt overbearing.

He wouldn’t let Maeri treat Fen that way anymore. And he would stop Fen from letting Maeri play her games on him.  

Knock him out if he must.

It gnawed at him to know Fen only wanted to protect him all the same by keeping them apart. There was no use feeling jilted. But he didn’t have to act so coldly.  

Startling awake from his thoughts, he heard a sliding noise, like rock being dragged on rock. He hurried to the tent opening and gazed across the field.

Had they returned? Nighttime would still last for hours.  

He took cautious steps forward.  

First, he saw their shapes, huddled on the ground beside the door. Maeri was crouching. The lit torch lay on the ground and made their shadows huge against the ruin.

Maeri was pressing Fen against the door. His head kept drooping as she worked something around his chest.  

”Come on, you slouch. Hold it together.”

Fen looked up at her, his eyes groggy, unseeing. A trail of blood escaped between his cracked lips.

Elam halted.

Numbing emptiness consumed his body. Breath got stuck in his throat. All sense in his mind disappeared.

Fen.

He dashed, stumbling on the grass.

Maeri flinched like a stratled cat as he heard his approach and shot her eyes to him.

The sprint ravaged at his lungs when he collapsed next to them.  

Blood. So much blood.

All over his chest, clothes, her hands and back.

Elam breathed rapid. He crawled to him. Maeri gave him space and grunted as she moved backwards.

The fresh bandage around Fen’s chest was already soaking in red. Elam could barely run his hand on it, ghosting around it.  

Fen.

He looked at his face, his eyes, not focusing on anything. He felt his own lips quiver. Cold grasp of panic raised in his throat.

Fen coughed feebly, and blood splattered out. Specks of it flew and stained Elam’s collar. He blinked, shocked.

“Damn it. He’s on the edge of conciousness. Heavy bastard. I might pass out, too.”

She was bleeding, a continuous drip from the back of her left bicep.  

Maeri’s voice jolted him to action.  

Fen needed to be laid down. He needed to see the wound. The real damage, the depth, the width. What he could heal, and not.

”The tent, the bed…. Help me.” He mumbled.

”What?”

”HELP ME!”  

Elam slid his arm under Fen’s armpit and turned to make him prop on his back. He nudged, tried out, lifted him a little.  

Fen cried out in pain, incoherently.

Maeri got the clue and hurried to prop his other side. Together, they heaved him up. Elam felt his legs shake. Maeri was struggling. But they got his limp body moving somehow.

Elam panted, they hasted.  

Inside the tent, they laid him quickly on the rickety bed. It creaked and complained under his weight. He seemed to have finally passed out.

Before Elam had thought of it, Maeri took a knife from her belt and cut up the straps of his armor and through his shirt and the makeshift bandages, then ripped them open too uncover the cut.  

Elam stepped up to him right away, brushing past her. The wound seemed to extend all the way from his right armpit to left shoulder. He touched the edges, the raw skin, the clotted blood around it. It was a laceration, but quite cleanly cut.

“What happened...?” Voice in hoarse whisper, he asked even though he knew what to expect.

Maeri slumped to the ground, leaning to the side of the tent. She grimaced, holding her arm, stripping the cloth around it.

“A nasty trap, what else? If he wouldn’t have been whining...”

With no time to waste, Elam leaned close to his still body.

He checked his pulse and breathing, relieved to find both of them there and calming down.

He rubbed his palms together to warm them up and closed his eyes.

He recalled an image of his mother, her nimble, long fingers weaving patterns in the air. Particles, warm and bright dancing on the tips. The essence gathering into mending energy. He recalled and repeated.  

The power pulsed as he laid his hands on his chest, it scattered into the wound, filling it, covering it. He pushed his essence forward to stitch skin and muscle. To heal and renew.

It took time and precision, but finally he felt he had connected eveything. The skin on the surface was the hardest to recover. It would scar but he could make it fainter in time.  

He could not replace the lost blood. He prayed for all the divine mercy it would be enough. And not too late.

Exhausted, his hands tainted red, he sat on the edge of the bed. Cursed the fact that he was out of practice, out of his usual element to help him more.  

But Fen was stable. Stable and alive.

He stroked the skin on his arm, traced the tattoo of a feather on it.

A weight still pressed on his heart. He had been right to have a bad feeling from the start. He should have guessed, and not let him go. Insisted on coming along. She–

“I carried him all the way. It must’ve stretched my wound further.” She grunted from where she was sitting down, only wearing a torn undershirt now, the ripped parts of it wrapped around her arm. “Any chance you could send some of those sparkles my way?”

Elam felt cold fury raising in the pit of his stomach like never before.  

“Leave...”

“What?”

“I said... Leave.”

He stood up and faced her, absolute despisingly. “Haven’t you caused enough!?”

Maeri looked at him, the corners of her mouth twisting up. She grunted and managed to get up from the ground. She patted her dusty clothes off, patiently.

“He knew what he was signing up for. It’s right there on the contract. Do you think he hasn’t taken risks before?”  

“Leave him alone... leave us alone, you fiend. He won’t conform to you anymore!” He yelled.  

Snappily, she approached until her face was close to Elam’s. In the shadows of the tent her eyes looked bottomlessly black.  

“Now listen here, shortie. I have no interest in stealing or bedding him. I merely required him for business. So you can stop acting like a soggy, heated bitch about it.”

Her tone was low and articulated.  

Elam clenched his fists and spat back at her.

“You just almost got him killed. I’m beyond being–”  

“Are you that insecure about your standing?” Maeri let out and it made Elam stumble in his thoughts.  

“Or maybe you’re pissed that I know him better than you ever will.”  

She continued, getting more into his space. She was tall enough to look down at him without a problem. Her eyes squinted as she stared him down, like a snake its prey.

It made Elam instinctively back out.

“What do you even know? His favorite colour? How he likes his cock sucked?”  

She chuckled, voice full of malice and shook her head at his aghast face.

“Nothing of how he resorts in substances to douse his flaring trauma of being abused in prison, in the guard house of Vivec... All the fucked up shit he was willing to do and try... How he feels about being an abandoned, unwanted, dirty bastard.”

Every word she said felt like an arrow through his heart. He grimaced and turned away from her, trying to swallow the sob that was rising to his throat.  

So vile, he felt so vile. She was so vile.  

All these things. All these things about Fen he hadn’t known. They weren’t hers to tell. He didn’t want to hear them from her.  

At the same time his heart broke at them. All of it hit his chest like a sledgehammer.  

“Ouch...” She went on spitefully, pouting her lip. “Seems like that hurt.”  

All he could do was to just glare at her. He had no words.  

Unbothered by the damage that unraveled at her wake, she turned around. At the opening, holding the flap of the tent, she looked at Elam once more.  

“Do you even know it’s dangerous for him to have any Telvanni contact... Dangerous for you, I mean.”

She scoffed at his questioning face. She reached to release something from her belt and let it fall on the ground. The document, the contract.

“Token of my good will. Until next time, sweetie.”

With a rustle of canvas, she was gone. Elam didn’t move until he heard the hooves of her mount in the far distance. He ducked to rip the damned paper to pieces.

—

Elam slept leaning to his knees on the ground. His slumber was light, he kept flinching awake everytime Fen shifted.  

The morning sun shone its light through the canvas walls. He got up, feeling his legs stiff. Leaning over, he checked Fen’s temperature and vitals. He was clearly getting warmer. Elam hoped his skills had been enough to avoid an infection from an eons old blade.  

Fen needed a more throughout check-up from a medic.  

His hands were still stained in his blood. The little he could see of the front of his shirt too.  

While he was holding his hand on his forehead, Fen flinched awake. Elam let out a sigh of relief.

The first thing the lying mer did was bring his hand to his chest in panic. He seemed surprised to find it smooth, the scar on it only discolored. Disoriented, he glanced around until he saw Elam.  

“You...?”

Elam nodded.

“I felt it... it was warm.”

Adjusting to his awoken state, he leaned back on the mattress and exhaled deeply.

Recalling, he suddenly scanned around the room.

“She’s gone?”  

Elam didn’t need to answer.  

“Hopefully for good.”

He cursed silently and felt around his chest.  

“I’ve proven myself a fool once again.”  

He traced along the wound with his finger. “I hate ruins. I hate ruins even more with her.”

Elam finally spoke up.

”How can a person be so.... nasty? To force you to do such things... Threatening, bullying. To what end?... She claimed I was in danger with you.”

Fen pursed his lips.

”Don’t pay mind to what she said... It’s all just to please her need to meddle. A fucking masterplan to screw everyone over.”

Elam could see that. Being the way she was, she had a lonely life ahead. Maybe behind, too. But she didn’t deserve any pity, not from him.  

Fen cursed again, this time louder.  

“I hate how she makes me become. It’s like I have to be tough for her to not reach me. But she still does. Every single damn time.”

He covered his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice weak and hoarse. Behind the shadow of his hand, Elam saw he was gritting his teeth.

”I could have died and I didn’t even... ” He trailed off.

“You didn’t even listen to me. You disregarded me.”

Elam finished, hurt apparent in his voice, to let him know the extent of it. Fen seemed to awknowledge it judging by his guilty expression.

Looking at him, Elam couldn’t hold it up for long. He was too relieved everything had turned out alright in the end.

He reached to take his hand. He needed to hold it, to ground him, to support him.

”You know you don’t need to be tough when you’re with me.”

“I know.”

Elam huffed melancholically. He thought about all of the things Maeri had said. Tried to make sense of how much he must’ve suffered. How much of it he was hiding when he didn’t need to. He didn’t want to force him to confront it all, to lay it all out, no. A time would come when he’d tell, and he would be there.  

”I’m sorry for what you have been through…with her and… otherwise.”

Fen was silent. He had lifted the hand covering his face, now gazing at the plain ceiling of the tent, deep in thought. Maybe it was slight fever haze, but he seemed to relax. His brows came unfurrowed, he breathed evenly.  

”Ever since I’ve been with you, it all feels less… present.”  

He turned to him showing a tender, hazy smile.

”Makes me think I’m doing something right.”

Like flowers on a dewy hill at dawn, Elam’s affection bloomed and filled his heart. It overflowed, pushed tears out of his eyes. He had to squeeze them shut to take it all in. It was threatening to burst him.

”I love you.” Elam blurted out, squeezed his hand into his own shaking ones, brought it against his forehead.  

”The idea of losing you scared me numb. Please, don’t ever do something stupid like this again. Please.”

For an agonising moment, Fen was just quiet. Elam didn’t dear to look at him. The sobs came out of him uncontrollably. His wild heart beat like that of a humminbird.  

”Elam.”

Fen tapped his forehead gently until he looked at him. He chuckled at his teary face. Slid his hand to cup his cheek. Waited patiently for his hiccups to calm down.  

”I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“...Maybe since you first waited up the night for me to come back safely. No one has ever done that for me.”

He reached his hand further, brushed through his brown curls.

”I’ll try. I’ll try to deserve someone like you. I’ll try so hard. Please be patient.”

Elam couldn’t hold in his sniffles, he nodded and nodded, leaned into his hand.

”Now, you’ll have to reach down to kiss me, since my body won’t let me come up.”

Sniffling and laughing, he fell forward, careful of his chest and rested against his warm forehead. Close up, his eyes closed, Fen whispered,  

“Thank you for saving it, though. My body and life.”

_______

Part 1

Part 2

Fen insisted they run all the errands together. He seemed not willing to go alone or let him go alone, even though dividing up would have cost them less time. Elam found it a bit odd, but didn’t let it bother him too much.  

The sun was falling toward the horizon when they finally headed back to the inn, hands full of groceries, books, oddities and a magnifying class from the local Mages Guild. Elam had almost blissfully forgotten about the note and the morning, even though Fen had been uncharacteristically quiet and pouty the whole day.  

He was not looking forward to setting out facing the night. He would always choose to not sleep outside, if given chance. But if Fen felt like they needed to go, he wouldn’t argue.  

At the inn, they gave a quick check to their guars, who were happily munching away freshly harvested hay in the connected stall. They seemed rested enough.  

As they stepped inside to go collect the rest of their things from upstairs, Fen came to a stop before him.  

“Fuck...”

Elam peeked from behind his back. The tavern downstairs was relatively empty. Only few old men sitting by the bar with their tankards. And a red haired mer, seated facing the door, her legs crossed relaxedly on the table.  

“What a coincidence!” She spread her arms, feigned surprise in her voice.  

Maeri, her hair carefully braided out of her face, was wearing a leather armor that was lined with crimson velvet, strapped full of knives. Her features were sharp, like cut from volcanic rock. Elam hadn’t imagined how she would have looked before but he was taken a back how intimidating a person could appear.  

She was smiling, but it was the most dishonest smile he had ever witnessed. It widened into a grin when she caught Elam’s eyes for a moment. A shiver traveled down his back uncontrollably. He tried standing cogently next to Fen, holding his head up.

She dropped her legs off the table and leaned forward.  

“I’m disappointed you never left me a message back. I thought we could finally become pen pals.”

Fen shook his head and sighed. He walked to the stairs and laid their purchases down on the floor.  

“Alright. What do you want?” He turned to her and crossed his arms. Elam couldn’t see his face from the side, but the tone of his voice was dark, demanding.  

“To see you, what else? Did you grow taller? What are these new muscles?” She bit her lip playfully and measured him with her eyes.  

“There’s something you want.” He insisted, slightly raising his voice. “What is it?”

Elam moved, still holding some books. He felt uncomfortable watching Fen’s confrontation. Was there really no peaceful way to solve this? So far, she had been polite, if only a little forward. Maeri turned her attention to him.  

“Aw, you’re not even going to introduce us? I’m appalled at the lack of your manners, Fenny. I thought my mother raised you better.”  

She gazed between them, but Fen made no attempt to speak up. Elam felt obliged to.  

“I’m Elam Sarano...And I know who you are.”

He decided to give her only that, but she seemed content with the information, nodding her head as if she was impressed.

”He’s just someone I travel with. I’m sure your business here has nothing to do with this.”

Elam couldn’t help but to feel a little jab in his chest. Fen sounded so cold, so distant.

”Alright, alright.”  

Maeri held up her hands as if in arrest.  

”I had no intentions, but since you so conveniently showed up out of nowhere, I’ve come to recruit you for a job.”

Fen scoffed haughtily. The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax in a second. He dismissed Maeri with a sweep of his hand.

”Not a chance. Why would you even think I’d say yes?”

Elam felt relieved with his immediate answer. Maeri didn’t seem fazed with his protest. She simply smirked and tapped the table with her long nails.

”It’s just that.....Unfortunately for you, I still have you on contract. On a contract you violated by leaving.”

She scarped the surface of the table as she stood up. Elam saw for the first time that she was tall. Almost as tall as Fen.

She loosened a strap hanging on her belt and let a crumpled document roll free. On the bottom left of the page Elam could see in clear lettering the name ’Fenarel’.

Fen seemed to know the contents of the contract because he only took one look at it and pinched the bridge of his nose.

”I let it pass until now out of the goodness of my heart. I’m sure you are familiar how they normally deal with contract violators in this business.”

”Of all the fucking things…” Fen mumbled as Maeri rolled up the paper and carefully strapped it back in place.

”So? Are you in or do we need to apply some laws of the streets?”

She smiled, seemingly innocent from her high ground.  

Fen pursed his lip and shifted the weight on his foot, let his arms fall down, his hands already curled up in a fist.  

”And what’s the job?”

”My client requires some sample materials excavated from a nearby Dwemer ruin, and is far too rich to do it themselves. My usual plundering squad ditched me on a moment’s notice… so I need you to come hold the torch for me.”

Elam was taken aback. Just moments ago he had been so firmly against it and now he was asking for details. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of doing something so reckless. What kind of contract could bind him to such ridiculousness?

”Now hold on. You can’t just force him to do something- I- You...”

He stepped forward, confronting her directly but managed to fumble in his words.  

“You’re right...I cannot physically haul him with me. But just watch him make up his own mind, sweetie. He’s a big boy.”

She addressed him as if he was a child. It flared up anger inside of him. Then she turned her attention back to Fen, who seemed to be deep in thought.  

“If you do it, I’ll burn the contract. Last gig you’ll ever have to contractually do with me.” She held out his hand for him to shake. “I swear.”  

Her dishonest smile could not frame the situation better. Elam held his breath at Fen’s decision. Silently, he begged him to not agree to this madness.  

A slight panic rose within him when he saw Fen stretch out his arm to meet hers. He gave a tight squeeze on her hand, maybe a little bit too tight., and let go.  

“When?”

“Tonight, if possible. I’d like to be on my way tomorrow.”

“Fine. I’ll go prepare.”  

”Good boy.”

Fen turned, glanced at Elam quickly. His face didn’t give anything away. He picked up the things from floor and continued up the stairs.  

Elam looked at Maeri and could not hide his contempt. She made a face and struck her tongue out.  

“He was my partner in crime first, I have dibs.”

Ridiculous, this was ridiculous.

Elam stomped up the stairs after Fen. When he reached the room he had already thrown pieces of his light armoring on the bed.  

”What’s in the contract? Why does it bound you to her?”  

He put the books he was holding on top of a dresser next to the doorway, and followed him he rummaged through their bags in a frenzy.

”It’s something she required me to sign all those years ago. To act out in the business and be entitled to the profits. Damn stupid, I know.”

Fen stripped his shirt to change into a thicker one. He secured the hair Elam had braided in the morning tighter.  

”I don’t like this, Fen. You shouldn’t do it.”

He had a bad feeling about all of it. About her. She could hire any mercenary thug to go with her. Why did it have to be Fen?

Fen reached back to the bed and started to put on his armor. He had just a modest chest piece and braces.

“I’ll just go. And that’ll be it. I’ll rip the contract myself. Have it nulled at a notary.”

He grunted as he squeezed the pieces on. Elam walked up to help him with the various buckles. It was time consuming, but he made sure they were tight and secure.  

When he was done he laid his hand upon his arm and sought out his eyes.  

”Then I’ll come with. Those ruins, they are dangerous, I can-”

”No.”  

”No?” Elam scoffed, he couldn’t quite believe it.  

”Stop being ridiculous, I-”

Fen grabbed him by the shoulders.

”If you try to come, I’ll physically knock you out. End of story.”  

He did the final adjustments on his chest piece, then breezed past him, out of the room. Elam turned after him, in disbelief.  

He stood in the messy room, feeling jilted. Then his feet moved on their own after him.  

It was quiet downstairs. The old men at the bar turned their heads at him when he passed, seemingly curious about the commotion they had caused. He hurried out of the door.  

Maeri was in the yard. She had already straddled her mount, a black spotted mare, who hoofed at the dirt impatiently. She was smirking when Fen emerged from the stall with his guar.  

The horizon was starting to show hues of red and orange. The sky was almost cloudless. The night would be bright.  

Elam wrapped his arms around himself. Just this morning, he had felt so carefree. Sleeping in his arms after a long, blissful night. How could one note, one person change Fen’s demeanor so drastically.

Fen hopped on his mount and looked at him, his face sullen. His stern eyes repeated what he said earlier.

“I’ll be back by morning.”

They rode off.

Annoyed, hurt, Elam retreated back inside the inn.

----------

“How dare you be so happy.”

”What?”

”You’re so sappy and in love… Swaying, kissing. Gods, it took everything in my control not to make fun of it.”

Their voices echoed in the tall hallway. Fen rolled his eyes, even though in the darkness Maeri wouldn’t be able to see. She was holding the torch, and had given up one of her short decorated daggers to him. They stood at an entrance to a room beside the ajar stone doors.  

“Yet here we are...”

The ruins were not untouched. Someone, if not many groups had excavated in it before, judging by all the scattered equipment left behind. Maeri had insisted they’d find what they needed despite it.  

Fen didn’t particularly enjoy ruins or delves. They were always moist and musty. Full of critters and creatures, some with a liking to kill anything moving in their way.

She turned a corner and Fen followed. She knew to be careful with her steps, Fen knew as much. Now, he was hoping she would shut her mouth and concentrate on the way.

“Hm... he’s not the first House elf you’ve fornicated with. Definitely the daintiest. Are this one’s poor parents beyond worry somewhere?”

Fen was used to her jabs and insults. He was relieved that Elam wasn’t around to hear or be the target of them anymore. He knew that the moment he would give her something back, she would grasp it with her claws like a languished cliff racer.

This trip didn’t fill him with pleasant nostalgia. But it would be over soon, he repeated it to himself like a mantra.

A vent on the wall clanked as they stepped further into the dusty room. A whizzing spider sentry construct climbed on the floor. Even if they were small, these bastards could do quite the damage with their bladed legs. It noticed them and whirred wildly.

Fen took a steady stance. He focused, gathered energy to coat his arms in electricity. One of the only things he had ever been skilled at was sensing and utilizing static magic energy in the air. He couldn’t make it too potent, but all he had to do was to overcharge the critter to disable it.

Lightning flashed as he aimed. The blow hit its core and it exploded into pieces.

Maeri hummed, impressed. “Can’t say I haven’t missed you blowing up things... and glowing like that.”

Fen scaled the room to attract any lurking spiders before he let his focus on the magic drift. The torch Maeri was holding didn’t illuminate the whole room. She walked along the walls, lifted some gadgets on the tables pushed to them. Browsed around absent-mindedly.

”Your little princeling seems so infatuated, too. Fighting for you, defending you...”  

She continued as she finished her round and came back to Fen with her light. She got close and traced the edge of his armoring.

”It’s so boring when you don’t answer. He’s high born, isn’t he? Of which House?”

Fen swatted her hand off and avoided her eyes. He had no intentions of disclosing information about Elam to her. She was gifted at pestering. Oh, how he regretted ever agreeing to this-

”He’s a Telvanni?” She let out and examined his reaction carefully. Fen wasn’t prepared for her to blurt it out and he frowned.

She gasped and laughed out. “Oh...I know it. Because you avoid me so.”

”By the stinking Three. If only she knew. Does she? This is delicious.”

She couldn’t stop laughing as she walked ahead, into the corridor that lead out of the room.

”You’re so dumb. You should end it bef-”

Fen stomped, reaching his breaking point. Dust lifted up in the air with his foot.

“For once in your life. Can you try not to ruin something. Please. For once.” He spat out, firmly and desperately.

She turned to him, making a face.  

Click.

Their eyes met.

Reacting in half of a second, he kicked her off the plate her toes had barely grazed. The trap, a pendulum hanging from the ceiling activated. He heard it swing in the darkness.

The blade flashed, he evaded back. Barely. It scraped his armor. No, clothes. He fell against the wall with a grunt.  

The trap swung once more and locked back into place.

Raising a hand to his chest hastily, he examined the cut. His head banged, he tasted iron in his mouth.

Blood, red and warm pooled out. A lot of it.

___

Part 1

Part 3

UAAAAAAAyikes

The tankard clanked as it hit the table. Elam let out a satisfied sigh and wiped at his mouth.  

”This ale is better than I expected.”  

Fen nodded, already downing his second one.  

”It tastes sweeter because it’s cheap today.”

When they had arrived to the inn, it had been relatively calm. Now, it seemed the locals had wandered in in steady waves after the sundown and filled the downstairs tavern with lively chatter and glee.  

Elam leaned on his hand and looked around. The people, men, mer and beastfolk alike were laughing and dancing. A band of bards accompanied their merry prancing and drinking. It was the evening of Harvest’s End and the spirits were high.

On the road to the city earlier today, they had passed the naked, freshly reaped fields. Frolicking peasants and children. The air had smelled of crisp hay and crops.

They had chosen a more remote and smaller inn, in hopes of avoiding the centre of hullabaloo. But Elam had guessed they could not escape it completely.

He didn’t mind, though. Watching the celebration brought a smile he couldn’t quite wipe off on his face. Unfortunately, it didn’t change the fact that he was exhausted from travelling, physically and mentally.  

Ravenous, they had discarded their luggage in the room and headed down again to eat their fill. The plates on the table had been empty for a while. The discounted ale had made them stay for longer. And the fact that they could probably not get a quiet night of sleep while the town was full celebratory mood.  

Sitting on the other side of the small table, Fen yawned.  He had stripped his riding leathers earlier in the room, as he always did when opportunity rose, and blended in with the crowd in his loose undershirt. His long hair he had gathered in a messy bun that was threatening to fall apart any second. Watching it, Elam felt an urgent need to braid it.  

He shook off the silly thought. They were both messy and dirty from the road, but tonight, on a night when people migrated straight from farms to bars, such things scarcely mattered.  

Besides, Elam couldn’t deny the scruffy look fit Fen. It was natural and quite irresistible.  The way he slouched so relaxed, the faint stubble on his chin, the casual opening of his shirt, his toned chest below... Much like when they first met. And much like what he used to dream-

“I can go for another round. If you’re up for it.”  

Fen held his tankard, smiling goofily. Elam let out a soft laugh. He looked sleepy and adorable with his droopy eyes, but seemed to be willing to battle his exhaustion.  

Elam decided to join in the battle as well.  

He stood up and held out his hand cordially. “Come.”

Fen put down the tankard and took his hand, frowning doubtfully. “What for?”

“I want to twirl you around.”  

Humming satisfiedly, he pulled the taller mer with him as he approached the area cleared out for dancing. People were swinging by, swept into a brisk group number. Although, he himself wasn’t the most graceful partner on the floor, he knew Fen was never disinclined to dance and guide him.  

As he turned around he saw the smug smirk on his face.  

“Are you sure you are prepared for this?” Fen said, his voice low. He slithered his arm around the small of Elam’s back so smoothly and pulled him snug, raising their connected palms.

Elam giggled out against his shoulder. His feet ached, his body ached, but his heart was so light. They swayed, completely out of the rhythm the band was playing. They were far enough from the other dancers to disregard them. Fen guided them apart and stretched his arms out.

“Twirl me then, I have no energy to do it on my own.”

Elam rose on tiptoes, but still couldn’t reach his arm high enough above him. Fen bent his knees to help, but couldn’t turn around efficiently. Their limbs tangled, Fen’s hair fell out of his bun. As awkward as it was, somehow they succeeded.  

They crashed together again and laughed heartily. Exhilaration filled his heart. Elam slid his arms around his neck and threaded his fingers through Fen’s white hair. It was straggly and unkempt. Something he could fix in the bath next time. He traced his nape and felt himself being pulled into a kiss.

Sounds of the dancing and music faded out as he closed his eyes. So gentle, he was. They swayed and continued to let their lips meet lazily, hazily. Time passed slow.

“We stink.” Fen scrunched up his nose as they came apart. Elam nodded in agreement.  

“I might fall asleep here leaning to you.”  

He sighed pleasedly and sunk his head into to crook of his neck.  

“Bedtime?”

“Bedtime.”

---

An array of passed out people greeted them downstairs in the morning. Or rather the noon, since fatigue had consumed their bodies to rest longer. Even Fen had slept in, lingered in the bed unusually long. After a quick wash-up, they had gone down in search of food, to calm their rumbling stomachs.  

Elam waited at the bar, for the cook to finish their dishes. As she emerged from the kitchen and gave the plates to Elam, she also held out a folded piece of paper.  

“Someone left it for you last night.”

He frowned. “Who was it?”  

The cook shrugged uninterested, and turned back. Elam balanced the plates in his hands and examined the paper. There was a faint “F” scribbled on the side of it.  

He walked back to the table that Fen had reserved.

“I think this is for you.”  

Fen mirrored his confused expression as he took the paper. Neither of them were expecting any mail or acquaintances this far away from Morrowind.  

Above his full plate, Fen carefully unfolded the note. In a matter of seconds, Elam watched his confusion turn into a pained frown. It sparked a seed of worry inside him.

“Shit. Crap. Fuck.” Fen chanted curses, one by one. He crumpled the paper in his fist and looked hopeless. Elam waited for his explanation baffled.  

“We need to leave this place as soon as possible.”  

“Why? What’s going on?”  

He flinched as Fen hit his fist on the table. The plates jingled.  

“It’s... Maeri. By some twisted, fucked up miracle. Of all the places-” He leaned back on the chair and inhaled heavily. His lips crooked in mockery happiness. “She wants to meet.”

Elam observed his desperation. “Byla’s daughter... right? Can’t you just tell her you don’t wish to meet?”  

Fen had told him about his past, obviously. About his years of travelling with the mage Byla and later of his more nefarious adventures with Maeri. In those stories, he didn’t talk of her very admirably and said he’d be better off not knowing most of the details.  

Fen met his eyes. His pained expression deepened.

“She’ll find me anyway. She has something planned. Vivec’s musty toes- I swear.”  

Elam watched him crumple the note further in frustration. He couldn’t deny being curious about its contents.

“Well, no matter what, we still need to eat-” He pointed at the plates ahead of them, the food cooling by the minute. “-and replenish our supplies. That’ll take half the day.”

He grabbed his fork. “You know I was hoping to find a new magnifying glass as well... Since you sat on the one I had...”

“Need you leave it on a sittable rock?!” Fen threw the note on the table and crossed his arms, still slouching back on the chair.  

Elam had rarely seen him so agitated and tense. If this Maeri truly was so forceful, all they had to do was avoid her. He didn’t mind leaving this town earlier than planned, but he didn’t want to leave unprepared.

He nudged Fen under the table with his foot and signed with his fork toward the plates of food.  

“Let’s finish and go, then.”

—

Part 2

Morning had dawned upon the city.

She ran a finger down his bare chest. Maeri was wearing nothing but a thin cotton robe, sitting on the edge of the mattress, next to the pile of rummaged bedding. Fen felt exposed and adolescent under her touch and gaze. She was smirking mischievously, as always.  

“You have the confidence of a practiced whore, yet you cling to me like a puppy.” She drew a circle on his skin with her sharp nail.

“It’s almost sweet…”

She leaned out, measured him with her eyes. They didn’t give away her intentions.

His heart beat in his chest. A steady, fast rhythm that he felt in his whole body. Her heat, his heat, on their skin, rising up to the roof, escaping through the cracks on the ceiling boards.  

He looked at her nimble form, towering over him. Regal, like a queen looking down upon her lowly subjects.

She was so different from anyone else he had been with. So entirely different.  

It was like she wasn’t in it for the act, but for the play. For the humiliation. The power.  

He had no problem giving it up, normally.

But something in him always wanted to fight against her rules. Maybe it was because she targeted him specially with her incisive snarkiness and teasing. Her commands and practiced dominance. She was a natural.  

He rebelled until she snapped back. She went, he followed. It was almost a routine.  

It was impossible to form emotional connection to her, other than endless frustration and annoyance. She was talented at circling around the subject, never giving out enough of herself. Never giving up control. She seemed to love making everyone hate her.  

It sort of relieved him.

He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to achieve with her. Following her felt exciting, felt forbidden. And stupid. But he couldn’t seem to stop.  

“I can be more.”  

Their eyes met. A cautious challenge. He was dipping his foot in. The spark in her black eyes made something rise up to his throat.  

She chuckled, not as condescendingly as he would have thought.  

“Oh, I hope so.”  

With that, she stood up, fastened her robe and glid to the door of the room. Fen rose up to lean on his elbows.  

“No, stay. I want to see this sight when I come back.” She said, halfway out the door. “If I do.”

With a flip of her unruly red hair, she was gone.

He fell back on the bed and scoffed.  

The carriage came to a stop with a clank that woke Fen up from his light slumber. Tired from the long stretch of land they had covered in the past week, Byla had let him take a nap in the back while she on the reigns. It was a rare luxury Fen had exploited to the fullest.

After yawning, he climbed out of the carriage and landed with a thump on the soft ground. They had arrived to a village. It looked very small and humble. Only a few raggedy pitiful houses stood by the farmside. The fields were lush with yellow hay, ready for harvest in few weeks time.  

“Take these bags, will you?”  

Byla appeared, and pointed on the ground. She was leading their trustworthy gelding by the reigns, ready for desattling. Fen flinged the packs over his shoulder.

“What’s this place?”  

“Rest can stay for now.” She ignored him and let out an enlongated sigh and began walking toward the houses.

Fen followed, looking around the environment. Some people were working in the fields, maidens tending to some oxes in the enclosure. No children running around could be seen.

They went around the corner of a house. There was a young dunmer sitting on the porch. She was leaning her head into her bandaged arms, seated on the stairs. Her reddish hair braided messily and her face rusely bored or tired. Her ashen skin was too pale, too sickly grey.

As Byla and he approached, she got up with slight effort, propping on the fence pole beside her.

“You really came?” She let out a scoff that sounded mocking.

Byla pursed her lips and walked up the stairs, past the woman, who turned to follow her.  

“Naturally.” She retorted neutrally and let herself into the house, through a raggedy door.

Fen wasn’t quite sure what he should do, still standing in the yard by the porch. The mer glanced at him, her brows furrowed, before she turned to follow Byla in. He decided to at least take the baggage inside and stepped forward as well.  

“I see that you are still able to walk around.” he heard Byla say as he stepped in. Inside the hut she had settled behind a big table.

“It must not be deadly.”

The red-headed mer sunk down on a chair by the table with a sigh. Sweat was dripping off her face. The walk must have been a stretch in her obvious condition.

“Lucky me.”

Byla discarded the scarf she had wrapped around her shoulders. Daylight came through the dirty windows and highlighted all of the cobwebs and rubble accumulated around the room. The hut was dusty and messy, it looked like it had been abandoned until recently.  

Fen stood awkwardly at the threshold, peeking in.  

Byla signed him in further, rather impatiently. “Come on then. I need supplies from the packs.”

He jolted into action and walked up to them.  

“And who’s this brat?”, the woman let out tauntingly, as she followed him with her gaze. Their eyes met, both pitch black. In hers, Fen saw something he couldn’t quite fathom. She smirked slightly, her sickly face not managing to cooperate all the way.

Byla reached out for the packs while sitting down next to the younger mer, facing her.

“My associate.” Byla hummed, her wrinkly face remaining stoic. “My bodyguard. You needn’t worry about him.”

She laid open one of the packages, revealing various medical supplies, neatly organized in tiny bottles and compartments. The woman scoffed again and laid her bandaged hand on the table. It was shaking slightly, as if she couldn’t control it.

Fen backed out. He looked around the hut absent-mindedly. Little food and supplies were scattered around the kitchen area. A scruffy mattress was laid in the corner by the window, some soiled-looking rags on it. She must have stayed here a while.  

“So it was a Daedric ruin? How long was the contact with the artifact?” She had laid out fresh sheets of bandage and some jarred salves, she always brewed by the fire. Gently, she took the woman’s injured hand in her own to observe it. As she started unwrapping the cloth around it, the woman hissed out. She yelped at the contact, but Byla kept going.

“Maeri.”  

Fen was surprised to hear Byla’s tone so demanding.

“How long?”

Maeri let out a groan. “I don’t know. Long enough to fucking hurt. To catch the curse from it. Gods.”  

She turned her pale face away and bit her lip. Underneath the last layer of bandages, Fen could see a faint blackish, purplish glow. It intensified as Byla scrapped away all the cloth.  

It lay on Maeri like goo burned on her skin, like a serpent wrapped around her arm. A brand, that seemed almost living. Her hand was shaking.  

“No salve will heal this.” Byla frowned and hovered her hand above the brand.  

“It is an Oblivion curse, sapping away your lifeforce. I need to do a purifying spell.”  

She reached briefly to brace the amulet hanging on her chest and stood up, pushing the chairs out of the way with her foot.  

“Fen. I need you to hold her arm still, please.”  

He moved at command to the table.  

“Try not to touch the brand.”  

He nodded and placed his hands on Maeri who was still sitting down.

“Wait. Wait!”  

Fen let go as she screamed. She breathed rapid, trying to control the shaking consuming her body. She clenched her fist and drooped her head.  

“It will burn for a while.” Byla had finished preparing the spell and was looking at her lips pursed.  

“Fuck, okay, do it then!”

Fen placed his hands again and turned his head to side. He knew to expect the bright light of the purification spell. The energy was tingling his skin. The spell illuminated the hut, flashed blinding for close to a minute.  

When it faded, Maeri lay against the table, unmoving, unconscious. Byla sighed, and wiped her brow.

--

Fen was sitting on the kitchen floor, re-lacing his leather boots, when Maeri suddenly flinched awake. She sat up in surprise, disoriented.  

She had been sleeping roughly a day’s time. Restless and painful sleep that had disturbed Fen’s own attempts to fall asleep.  

Byla was outside, probably mending the carriage or feeding their mount.  

He looked at the other mer. She looked a lot healthier now, her ashen skin regaining its depth. The braided hair in her back had come loose. Now, he thought, she looked a lot younger than he had first observed. Maybe four or five summers his senior.  

She raised her newly healed hand, examined it from every angle. The curse was gone.  

She turned to him with a nasty look on her face.  

”Are you done ogling?”

He was, so he focused back on the shoes. He felt brave about staying where he was. As much as he was cautious of the other mer, he was also curious.  

Byla had been tight-lipped since yesterday, retreating to solitude. She had not even told him to study.  

Maeri stretched her arms out and kicked the rags off her feet. She released the rest of her hair and ruffled it more loose. Then settled to lean against her knees on the edge of the mattress.  

“Shouldn’t you have some beef to be a guard?”  

Fen turned to her, surprised she talked to him, when she so blissfully ignored him before.

“Though, maybe you’ll grown into your bones soon. You look like you would.”

She chuckled at his confused look. She stayed there, smirking back at him for an uncomfortable while.

“Aw, don’t scrunch up your face. It’ll make you ugly when you’re old.”

Fen didn’t know what to answer her.  

Ruffling her hair more, she finally stood up. Still a little wobbly on her feet, she went to the table and picked up some meats laid on it.  

Fen finished lacing the left shoe and decided to move to the porch to do the rest. Out of her way and gaze.  

As he sat down on the wood outside, he heard vigorous rambling from inside. He leaned in to peek from the door he had left open, but couldn’t see her.  

In a while Maeri stomped out, flinging her boots over her shoulder. She had changed her clothes and apparently packed up all of her stuff. There were small knives strapped onto her leather vest... some more knives on her trousers.

She sat down on the porch as well. Fen deliberately focused on his boot, avoided looking at her.  

“So what is she actually making you do?”  

Maeri mused while pulling her own shoes on.

“I don’t know what you mean. She helped me, I help her. Teaches me to control my magic and stuff.”

Byla crossed the corner, holding a feeding basket and approached them.

Maeri flung her face at her.

“Oh, he’s a mage?” She laughed out, thrillingly.

“What a joy, you finally got yourself a new test subject.”

Byla stopped in her tracks.

“You might think she's such a grand teacher. Once a revered member of House Telvanni, always by the book and rule.” She leaned closer to Fen, but then turned to look at Byla, smiling nastily.  

“I finally know what you did that made them flush you out. He told me.”

Byla’s face was foul. She looked like she was about to lose her temper. Slowly, she put down the basket on the grass and stared her down. Fen thought she looked kind of same like with the bandits when they first met.  

He hadn’t asked her about her past, or the reasons of her departure from Sadrith Mora. It hadn’t come up, nor did he really care. It’s not like he was so keen on his past either. But he had told Byla he was in prison, and she hadn’t even flinched.

“How very smart of you to let him seek you out, Maeri.”

Fen was lost on their conversation. He looked at them, back and forth. Byla had never mentioned Maeri or anyone else close to her.  

“Oh, now you are so high and mighty. Not at all like when you just decided to give up on me because I wasn’t gifted enough.”

Maeri stood up and stepped up to Byla, who had crossed her arms. She looked grim, pained. Maeri seemed to enjoy making her feel that way. She had not stopped smiling, hoping to provoke even more.  

In mature coolness, Byla stood, her posture rigid, voice icy.

“You have decided that it was so, and I am tired of convincing you. Just go, like you were about to...and preferably refrain from plundering any more ruins.”  

“Gladly.” She responded and squatted to take her belongings from the ground next to the porch. She only had a backpack and a short dagger to her.

“Try not to make your boytoy as miserable as you make everyone else.” She nudged her head at Fen and brushed past Byla.

She walked off, and didn’t look back.  

Birds chirped in the trees. The leaves were starting to turn yellow. It was a beautiful day. 

Fen glanced cautiously at Byla. There was no change in her expression. It seemed shadows of past had come to haunt her and could not be shaken off anytime soon. It hung around her like an aura.

“So... who is she?”  

He dared to ask, finally.

Byla shook her head, so spent, fed up.  

“Will you give it a rest already? It’s night and I’m tired.” Fen groaned out childishly. He stretched out the arm he was leaning his cheek on and reclined fully on the bedroll. The light of the campfire flickered, sparks shooting up into the night sky. It was a late summer evening, warm enough to sleep outside of the carriage.

Byla hummed.  

“Well, do you know it then? Did you take the time today to study it, hm?” she lifted the heavy book of runes in her hands.  

“Or did you run about the village whole day, chasing after pretty girls. Or is it boys today? Parents will come to threaten me soon, I swear. Wasting away your youth…”  

Fen pouted and rebelliously turned on his other side, away from Byla’s judging gaze. He heard a faint scoff the older mer let out. She didn’t sound too angry, though.

“You’re bright and quick-witted. But you need to learn how to concentrate. To control.”

“But why-“ he turned around quickly to face Byla again. “-do I need to learn to read it from a stupid book if I know how to do it without?”

He felt brave from a far, safe distance away from Byla’s smacking reach. She wasn’t one to put up with an attitude Fen was exuding. He was complaining just because.  

Byla guessed his intentions well. Feeling lenient after the long, hot day, she just sighed and continued.

“And you think I’ll let you run wild, zapping around with your powers without a care? Learn the rule, learn the consequences.”  

She reached to mend the campfire a bit with the stick she was holding. Fen yawned exaggeratedly and looked into the embers of of the fire and focused on the wood crackling under the pressure. Focusing his energy on the fire, he made the logs pop in rapid succession.

Byla lifted the book in her hand as if to throw it. “You thick-headed boy.”

He curled up in defence, but relaxed right away.  

He was tired of books and studying. He had no particular interest in becoming powerful or wise. Those kind of people seemed to always have too many responsibilities.  

Fen enjoyed living on the road with Byla. The carriage was comfortable, his duties as a bodyguard minimal, since after all, Byla was stronger than him many times over. But ever since she got fixated on educating him the days had gotten excruciatingly boring.  

What did it matter if he knew the theory or not? Byla herself had criticized the Telvanni or Mages’ Guild on how far they took their teaching and rules on several occasions. And none of these fancy organizations would ever accept rubble like him to their ranks. Was she hoping to change that?

Fen failed to see how any amount of training could take him anywhere else but the frontlines of Cyrodiil.

He had turned seventeen this summer. When he had told Byla about his past, she had said she would have thought those experiences would have made him mature beyond his age. Granted, she had said it after a long day of him being a brat in all possible ways.  

He hadn’t given much thought to the future. It hadn’t seemed topical at all. It didn’t worry him, but he wondered where he would end up. Should he be worried?

The fire crackled again, when Byla poked it with a stick. She had put the book away and laid out her bedroll as well. She looked calm, he observed. Why did she care so much if he learnt?

“To sleep, then. I’ll have some extracurricular tasks for you tomorrow.”  

Fen groaned and shuffled inside his roll.  

At least he knew what he was doing tomorrow, apparently.

“Good night.”

 ”Why are you leaning against the wall like a big goon? Are you trying to impress me?”

Elam walked up to him smiling dashingly. The jar he’d been carrying around the whole day looked slightly more full of dirt than before.

”Yes... I am trying to distract you to get a chance to sweep that sweet jar off ya. Might go for big bucks on the market.”

The other mer wrapped his arms around it protectively and scoffed.

”Well, I’ll have you know the contents of this jar are invaluably priceless for the advancements of Dunmeri science.”

His effort to look convincing was ruined by the grin rising up to his lips.

”I was talking about the jar only. Maybe some merchant can use it for pickling or something.” Fen shrugged, mirroring his mischief.

Elam faked a betrayed look and hugged the dirt glass tighter.

Then Fen got more serious. ”Explain to me later what you found. Now, when was the last time you had a drink?”

From his belt, he picked up a grey flagon and stepped over to hand it to Elam. He looked at him wiping sweat off his darkened bangs. The shorter mer let out a delighted sigh.

”Thank you.”

The sun was way past its peak, and the sky was starting to have a pink hue. The evenings in this Redguard land were incredibly beautiful.

Elam gulped down a good amount of water, and staggered back to lean against a fountain constructed of big unrefined stone slabs.

He set the jar down on the slab and sat next to it with a groan. The flagon in his hand was deflated, and he handed it back to Fen.

”It’s so hot it makes me miserable.”

Elam grabbed the front of his cotton shirt and fanned the fabric to cool himself.

”You must be happy to be able to be without extra clothing.”

Fen looked down at his bare chest. There weren’t many places in the world that looked acceptingly upon him stripping his shirt in public, but in this desert country it seemed to be more than a norm. He could have said he was starting to like Hammerfell, if the heat wouldn’t have been draining him out as well.

”Sadly, I can’t strip my skin, though. It seems the sun penetrates that with ease.”

His eyes went up to the horizon that was peeking through the sand-coloured walls of the city. The shadows were getting longer. Good. Soon a cool night would fall.

Elam nodded in agreement, wearing a pained expression.

”It’s not fair you look impeccable despite the scorching heat. How am I, a sweaty drenched weasel, to measure up?” he groaned and splashed the fountain water on his face.

Fen couldn’t not but to smile at him. He sat down on the railing as well, next to Elam, who just lifted his head more drenched than before. Fen swiped his wet curls away from his face.

“You should get a hat to wear. Your nose is getting red.” He said, holding his jaw gently.

“You’re so sweet, too…” Elam whined out, without much effort in his voice. He leaned his flustered cheek into Fen’s hand and hummed softly. Fen felt the pleasant vibrations of his breath.

“I was bored without you the whole day.” He stroked the side of his face. “I bought fish. Played cards with some sailors. No, don’t worry didn’t bet anything. Went for a walk to the palace gardens, until I realized how terrible idea that was in this climate, and then just found refugee in the shadow. Here I’ll been since then.”

“Really? Well, that sounds bearable. I was digging dirt all day. Saw at least ten different snakes and scorpions. I feel so gross, so dusty and spent. Can we bathe today?”

Fen let his hand fall down, where it wrapped around Elam’s in his lap.

“Gladly. I think the bath house uptown should be open still.”

Elam squeezed his hand, and pulled him slightly closer.

“I was hoping… we could just go back to the flat.” The look in his eyes was coy.

“I know the tub there is barely functioning for our needs… but I suddenly have some… other needs.”

In familiar fashion, Elam couldn’t quite keep a straight face, and his reddened face grew a shade darker.

“Oh…”

The change in him made Fen smirk. Something in his stomach jolted deep.

“Um… Like I said, not fair. Now let’s get out of the sun.” Elam said hurriedly and dragged Fen along as he started walking. Then he turned right back to grab the jar.

Fen chuckled and let himself be dragged. “You do realize what a waste the bath will be?”

“I know…Shut up.”

Their steps were giddy and light. As Elam led him, Fen felt his heart burn stronger than the desert sun.

Cool night couldn’t come sooner.

  -------------

moonface moonface moonface

IM SORRY 

She keeps healing, because it had made Mother and Father frown. Oh, what a frivolous sense of freedom she feels while doing it. The power she channels from within pulses with the warmth of life. So unlike those aggressive spells she had learned to destroy with.

 In the next assessment after the training season she shows off her skill with newfound confidence. In the midst of her casting she doesn’t even remember to cater to her parents. It doesn’t matter. This is what she was born to do, they have to see it too.

Mother stands arms crossed, same old antipathy apparent on her face. Father, his stance rigid, brows knit. Both not exactly pleased, but maybe slowly accepting.

Renouncing their hopes of their eldest being a subject of pride would take a bit more time.

 With healing she is able to come up with believable excuses to leave the house. In guise of practicing she sneaks out. Helping out at the sick house and even in the nearby farms makes some part of life joyful. People thank her on their knees. Hold up their hands as in prayer. As if she was holy like the Three. She waves them off gently, not accepting any gift of thanks.

 Oftentimes she sneaks down to the servants’ quarters. There are so many who work the field all day and come lay in their pain for the night. Scabs, sprains, sores, she brings relief to those she can. But they don’t thank her on their knees. They barely even smile or even flinch when she is around. And they feign ignorance when she is caught by the guards amongst them again.

 It becomes a routine. She is forbidden from helping the peasants, the slaves. They have their own sickwomen and pellars, she is told. A young noble girl shouldn’t bother. Why are they so ill then?

 She grows older, starts to see the world around her with new eyes. Is she really that different from the people she is helping? Why? They deserve all the things she has.

 It grows like a gout inside her. The more people flaunt her, the more she realizes her twisted, undeserved privilege, and it makes her sick. She doesn’t want to be involved in it, this blatant disvaluing, dehumanisation, of living beings. More than ever, she realizes the need for her healing.

 Once she helps one of the stable girls give birth. Everything is happening in a secluded corner in the cold cellar. The poor girl is so thin and frail she doesn’t even look expecting. She holds her cries in while wailing in pain, begging Naranel to not let anyone know or see. The girl pulls her in by tunic to whisper a name.

 Her screams break out eventually and other servants are holding hands in comfort, humming soft chants from overseas.

When the girl holds the baby she cries, and cries. Born a slave. Isn’t it better if he died right now?

After checking the child, Naranel has to excuse herself and run up and away fast.

 Neryn sees her come up the stairs in the dead of night. His round little eyes watch in horror at her bloody garments. He doesn’t know better but to scream.

 It startles Naranel to take look at herself as well. She runs to the bathing room and discards all the cloth on her. In the mirror she sees someone who seems dead, inside and outside, and such she feels.

 By the time a chambermaid barges into the room, she sits in the empty tub hugging her knees while the soiled clothes spread smoke in the firepit.