#athis

The fact that the Moons were out and the auras were shining across the cold Skyrim skies should have put Athis more at ease, but everything seemed somehow off as he and the rest of his party trudged along the cobbled path back to Whiterun. There was an anxiety he couldn’t quite place, and his temper was rising with every crunch of gravel under his muddy boots. Peace and quiet, for one, could have been achieved as they walked—if it weren’t for the ancient off-key drinking song that was winding its discordant way into Athis’s ears for about the billionth time since Farkas had “taught” it to an Orcish bard during one ill-advised stay in the swamps of Morthal on a longer job last Rain’s Hand. It had been miserable to endure then, and hearing the song now was near-equally annoying. It seemed no amount of practice could straighten out the deep bass notes of his friend’s voice into something sonorous.

“But a day shall arise when the dark dragon's lies

Will be silenced forever and then—!

Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw,

Dragonborn be the savior of men!”

He glowered back at Farkas—fresh bear pelts were folded over the towering Nord’s shoulders and he walked on as if he didn’t have a single care in the world—and frowned. Aela caught Athis’s eye and shook her head in mutual dismay. They all had done their job as well as expected, and with a decent amount of haste—but stopping to have, as Farkas had called his antics and drinking, ‘an early dinner,’ had put them far behind their expected return schedule. Vilkas and Kodlak would have words for them, and to be honest, Athis didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted to get home, wash up, and get to bed.

As of late, he’d been taking on more work than was strictly necessary. There was an itch in his bones to be out under the skies when he was at home in Jorrvaskr, and then an itch to get back there as quickly as possible once he was already out and about. Aela had warned him to rest, but resting seemed more and more impossible. His life felt like something he’d been doing by rote; it’d been as if he was barely awake as he moved through his routine. It wasn’t that he didn’t have it good—he was the only Dunmer fortunate enough to get a spot in the Companions’ ranks, after all—but somehow, the days were beginning to blur together despite all he’d achieved. There was, unfortunately, a sense that reaching farther was not for him. The Circle was full, and recruitment—and thus the opportunity to become a mentor—was at a standstill because of lack of space and work, and well…. Despite everything, Athis did sometimes feel like he didn’t quite belong—and probably never would.