#khajiit reader

The nausea only got louder, stopping at my throat by the last bit of authority I had left in my body. I swallowed hard to get the clump down, but it stayed ever defiant despite how utterly embarrassing it would be to barf right now. My legs stumbled along with the gentle push of Vivec’s hand and muscle memory, but not by my own will. In fact, I was trying more and more to move the other way, frantically looking behind me as the door back out to the greeting hall was closed by the Archcanon.

“But- No, hold on what? What!?”

Vivec stopped before we reached the tiled stairs down, looking me over. With my ears drooping and tail tugged between my legs, I must have looked like a strong breeze could make me cry. How could I not, this was THE nightmare for any spy or thief alike. Not only to get caught red handed, but the shame of being completely expected. Not that it was my intent to steal anything… I barely remembered why I came in here already. Their long fingered hand ran from my shoulder and down my arm. I suddenly remembered I was still being touched. The warmth of their palm made the bone of my elbow gently buzz with a quiet welcome, distracting me out of what was very likely a forthcoming panic attack. I was being touched. This was very real and not a nightmare. “Be at ease. You will get filled in downstairs over a cup of tea. I am happy to see you.”

His eyes were commanding, but his voice was soft and patient. As unstable as I felt, I didn’t have much of a choice but to listen. Charmed, I closed my chattering jaw and nodded. Though I couldn’t stand to look up at them for too long after that. Vivec retracted his hand then, letting me take my own steps down the stairs. 

Was I actually charmed? I didn’t notice any magic, but one can’t just order someone to stop freaking out and having it actually work. That’s unheard of. I wouldn’t really be surprised if it was some spell, though the thought of it being completely unnoticeable both spooked and intrigued me. It felt the same as when they coaxed me into just admitting to my background, last we spoke. Like my brain was being tricked into feeling like I was confiding with a friend. It felt safe to do so. And now, it felt safe to let it go and ‘be at ease’. Maybe Vivec was just really convincing, deserving of his theocratic leadership. I looked back at him with a muddled expression. He just smiled knowingly and motioned for me to keep going. So I did.

The Archcanon took the forefront, guiding us downstairs while furiously mumbling to himself. I had to cool down. Be smart about this. Sorting through my thoughts, I decided to put my focus on the priestly robes dragging down the stairs in front of me, instead of the feeling of ever-persistent eyes of a living god. Right on the back of my neck… This was a very out of place way of roping me into what sounded like a job opportunity. It was clearly secret, high stakes maybe. Maybe. Was it Mournhold, I heard? That was out of place too. If something was happening over there that would worry the Tribunal, it would only make sense for Almalexia to take care of it.

The stairs very soon lead way to an underground rotunda, just as - if not more decorated than the hall above. But it wasn’t with nearly as much formal prestige. Tasteful and expensive, sure, but this felt comfortingly well lived in. Silks, pillows and random instruments scattered around the room. Books, papyrus and ink piling on a low table in a conversation pit in the middle. It smelled like incense in here, and the lighting was pleasant and warm. I spotted a pretty bed to the right, and I knew then that this must be where Vivec spent his time off duty. The sight almost broke a bit of faith I didn’t know I held in me. Here I was, in the living room of a god, realising he has hobbies and the need for a bed… 

“Llevule, pour our guest some tea. I’m sure we gave him quite the scare.” Vivec urged with a mischief in their words, walking past me and towards the conversation pit. Not knowing up from down at the moment, I decided to just follow. Trying to remember the dunmer etiquettes of a guest. The Archcanon, which apparently was named Llevule, scrambled like the request caught him off guard, and he soon hurried away to presumably nag some unseen servant to go get it.

When Vivec perched themself right above the ground on one end of the oval pit, I took to the other end. Carefully tip-toeing over to where it looked most comfortable. There was a ruby red bolster pillow with some golden embroidery that earned my eye… I must have studied the pretty lines on it a bit too long, as I heard Vivec encourage me to actually sit down behind me soon after. “Do you like that one?”

“I like…. pillows?” Oh come on. I cleared my throat. “It’s. I really like the embroidery. I think gold and red go well together.”They cocked an eyebrow at me, looking like I just said the funniest thing on Nirn. I couldn’t even be that peeved about it, I would have found my behaviour entertaining too if I was in Vivec’s shoes. But I wasn’t. I was in my own, and that was so uncomfortable right now. I tried to somewhat casually put the pillow behind me to support my back, but I didn’t know where to put my arms after that, so after some awkward settling, I just crossed them in defeat. “...Look, I apologise if I’m impolite. This is just..”“Very sudden?”“...Yes. I won’t try to act smart on the intentions of someone of your distinction, but everything up until this point has been dizzyingly mysterious. Why-”“You?” …He was finishing my sentences. I tried my very best to not sigh at him out loud, but at least my exhaustion was visible enough for him to actually start talking then. “I chose you because I didn’t expect you. That is a very useful thing to have.”“...But you did expect me. That’s what you said.”

“I said no such thing.”

This was going nowhere. I squinted at him, trying to decipher what he could possibly be getting at. He only gave me that mischievous little grin in return. He was toying with me in some way. Or at least dangling a carrot over my head.

I had met similar personalities before. Usually this behaviour was asking for some kind of sparring. Whether it had been egocentric noblemen or sleazy pub crawlers, it was always rewarded if one tried to match their attitude. Or at least accept being in the little game they were playing. I relaxed into the pillow properly now, gently swiping my tail across the floor. “Alright, I’ll bite. You had my flat paid for, didn’t you?”“I did.”“-And, you didn’t answer me properly last I asked, but you pushed me against the railing so the caravan would catch my eye too, right?”“I did, very good.”

A weird bubbling of warmth sneaked over my torso at his praise. Okay, yes. I was getting somewhere now. Llevule came back with a tray then, with two overly decorated metal cups and a teapot steaming with something that smelled nutty and earthy. I took the time while he handed it all out to try and gauge the Lord’s expression on the other side of the conversation pit. It only took them looking from the teapot and back into my eyes for me to give up immediately. I couldn’t read Vivec. I felt too strange being so close.

I took the metal cup and looked down at the liquid, pulling it up to my nose to smell it. Some kind of root tea? “...You said Mournhold. Surely your fellow uh.. Coworker? Wouldn’t she be the one to take care of things like hired espionage over there?”

“Almalexia is the First Face and the people’s mother. As she sees to her children, the evil-doings of other forces depend on her distraction. And I have reason to believe something is at play, in her home. I’ve come to be quite familiar with daedric influences…”

“Daedric?!”

I nearly dropped my cup. Who do they think I am? I was just about to ask exactly that, come with some kind of protest, demean my talents in some vague hope he’d reconsider me as a choice. I could barely take out a single person on a GOOD day, I wasn’t fit for any kind of daedric encounter. But Vivec held up their hand before any of that spilled out. A silent command with a firm expression.

“At ease. I plan to have you near the whole time. Listen to my words until I am done speaking.”

…I choked out a small apology, not even daring to move until they had lowered their hand.

“The situation in Mournhold is more of a theory as of now, and not yet set in stone. Some twenty-odd years ago, the Daedric Triad of Mephala, Clavicus Vile and Nocturnal sought to gain entry into the Clockwork City. I was roped into their scheme to do so, against my will. Subsequently, after the whole affair was sorted, the Tribunal has had a look-out, physically and spiritually, for any sign of their return. But nothing has come up until recently. A fourth daedric influence, rather unexpected if true, has seeped in through the cracks to presumably gather intel while we wrote of the event. So says the temple archivists of the capital, anyhow…

And now, with our annual replenishment soon arriving, I worry that we will leave our stations bare for this illusive influence to have their way. So as I soon go to visit Mournhold to celebrate said upcoming replenishment, I would like to take you with me. And you are to look around for any proof of foul play, while the festivities take place. Preferably as quietly as possible. What say you?”

“.....This is a lot to chew on, um..”

I gulped, trying to buy a small amount of time to actually envision what I could be getting into. Trying to pull anything I’ve heard about the Daedra up in my head. Of course I had heard of cultists and the general pantheon. Worship was something I had seen, regardless of where in the world I was. There were some supposed ‘good’ Daedra, I knew, and then some Daedra that cared less for mortals or even despised them. I didn’t have enough information to go on. That was visible on my face, since Llevule soon spoke to add to Vivec’s words.

“-Uh, these would be CULTIST hallmarks we have seen as of now, we have yet to notice any actual Oblivion influence. And we’ll of course assign you some.. Some bodyguard or consultant you can go to while Vivec is on the floor?”“...And it’s me who has to do this because I’m… ‘Unexpected’. To the point I barely know what’s going on, myself.” I tried my best to make it clear with my voice how outrageous this really was. I wasn’t a worshipper of the Tribunal, I didn’t care for how much something had been foretold. Even if it came out of the God-King’s mouth themself. This just sounded to me like closing your eyes and throwing a dart. 

“It’s not that I doubt you’ve thought this through, but you’re showing me an absurd amount of leniency to get the same result as simply hiring a spy. The traditional way. I’m not sure I believe this is the only intention.”“And he’s quick-witted too Llevule, didn’t I say he was a sound option?”The Lord chimed, looking over at his Archcanon with a beaming smile as if I had said something entertaining. I had a good point. The Archcanon bowed his head in agreement and I couldn’t help but cross my arms again.

“No but I’m right, aren't I? There’s more to this.”

“...You’re insightful enough to know the answer to that, friend.”

So there was. But I took his answer to mean that I wasn’t allowed to know. At least not yet… He had read me correctly as someone who’d let curiosity lead me to places I wouldn’t even go with an army, and it quite frankly pissed me off. I now realised what that knowing smirk on his face meant. I could finally see what he was thinking. Vivec had already won me over. 

I looked back down at my cup, swirling the tea around in it. There really wasn’t a universe where I wouldn’t say yes to this. It was all too intriguing. The very reason I had the history I did was because I couldn’t leave a secret alone. I NEEDED to know, whether I was allowed to or not. And here I sat with arguably one of the most powerful people in the world, getting handed a dream of that on a silver platter. I also knew I was way out of my depth though, and that was maybe what scared me the most. Because I knew that didn’t matter to me. 

Vivec let me sit in my own silence, giving me the time I needed to roll the idea around in my head. He seemed fond of me as an asset, at least, so I had a feeling that I’d be somewhat protected and cared for during this ordeal. And if my flat wasn’t a testament to how much money I would make from this, I didn’t know what was. The only downside to this was really just that I knew too little to make a decision based on how dangerous it was going to be.

The explanation fell out of me like running water as soon as we sat down on the big decorative pillows. Behind the many silk curtains and hanging ornaments, the hospitality of fellow cats rarely let me keep secrets for long. All this time away, even before Morrowind. It had made me forget the closeness and humour of other cats. Say for M’aiko…

“So a meeting with the God King, you say? You’re pulling our tail, surely…”

Jo’dul purred, seeming more entertained than suspicious if anything. I sipped at the matcha with a light shrug, savouring the familiar taste of gossip I didn’t know I missed. I moved the drink back to Jo’dul and faced the straw towards him. Laying it all out with words had me realise how insane this whole ordeal actually sounded. How unlikely it actually was. It left an insecure and anxious feeling deep in my stomach, as if I was leading myself astray with confirmation bias and paranoia.

“Almost hope so. This one hasn't a single skill one wouldn’t find in one of their buoyant armigers. Understand, this plan is not to impress him, just to sneak by the most prying of eyes. A Khajiit and a Dunmer god has yet to be seen in cahoots with each other- Not that this one knows if that’s even the intent! He is… Hard to read.”

“Jo’dul hasn’t heard of an illusionist buoyant armiger, though. Much less a buoyant armiger quiet enough for espionage ....”

That might be it, actually. I fell quiet for a moment then, glancing over my shoulder and back at the bouncer who I had come to know as Khayla by now. Her tall figure sheltered us away from the main road, giving us some privacy from patrons and other merchants. She was eagerly listening along, though I understood that her silence was mostly to intimidate the outside onlookers. I heard the merchant sip at the cup I handed back to him.

“You think he’s in need of a go-between, then?” I thought out loud, my eyes having laid rest on the bright grey dirt outside, past Khayla’s broad shoulder.

“A liaison, mayhaps.”

I looked back at Jo’dul as if shocked back to the present, with maybe a bit too much hope in my eyes. Enough for him to notice, at least.

“Your expression tells that you’ve been speaking the truth with this story. This one thinks he'll play a part in it then, something to come home and tell my kittens about. Not everyday you indirectly aid an elven god to get a friend.”

The last word was accompanied with a wink. I couldn’t decide whether I felt relieved or embarrassed. Or if he meant ‘friend’ at all.

“..You have this one's thanks. And gold, of course.”

“Of course.”

He laughed. And that was that.

The sky was turning black as I reached St. Delyn, necklace clutched in my hand underneath my long sleeve. The dell’arco bulbs were to be used soon, or they’d go soft and lose potency. It was a bit of a sudden farewell to my new merchant friends when I noticed the time, but they understood well enough. Khayla even gave me a hug on the way out, which thoroughly crushed my lungs and bushed my tail. With a bit of a heave, I even promised to write to them sometime. I usually never promise things like that. They were a useful contact to have, though… And a kind one.

…The chances were slim, but I did end up also asking them about M’aiko anyway. Just the passing thought of him made me realise I actually missed him. As I expected, they hadn’t met him on their journey. But they promised to keep an eye out when met with my disappointed expression.

“Many adventurers approach us to stock up on rations and gear.” Khayla mentioned, in a small attempt to keep my hopes up.

“And it’s not the first time we have aided sword for hires, we’ve made a reliable source of trade for mercenaries over the past few months here.”

It was stupid of me not to just ask M’aiko how to reach him. But how was I to know he’d be gone with the wind by morning, paying for my breakfast on the way out? It was a shitty breakfast too, and it tasted even shittier knowing the cheeky bastard paid for it as an apology for leaving. But he WAS still a mercenary. He was probably off on his next swashbuckling adventure on the other end of Tamriel by the time I bought my flat. I ultimately just thanked the merchants for their time and hospitality in the end, pocketing my hope away for the time being.

With a twist of the key, I stumbled in through my door. Fumbling for a good minute in the dark before I found my flint and steel for the brazier. The fire revealed the mortar still on the floor with the rest of the ingredients, waiting for me to use them. I locked the door again. Then found the pliers to get the diamond out of the necklace. 

I didn’t sleep that night. My pestle proved to be slightly too weak for diamond, leaving me with brute strength and badly remembered spells as a last resort. I got a good arm workout from it, likely some diamond splinters on the floor that my feet would find later, and at last a fine glittery sand. The rest of the process was luckily much easier. Pasting bittergreen, crushing the dell-arco… It was like making a really bad salad. I put it all to a boil once I had picked apart my lantern and turned it into a sufficient burner, letting it simmer for an hour while I went to get some dinner. 

An hour or so after midnight, when the night wind became too cold for me, I closed the balcony door. And it was in the silence then, that I sat down to let my constant stream of thoughts take over. I poured a drop of ciciliani into the boiling mixture. I could get arrested for this, if I got caught in the wrong lighting. Was I really sure about Vivec actually wanting to see me? Was this flat actually paid for by them? Another drop. I was acting out of impulse, I knew that. I could have done a lot more background checking before settling on just paying a visit. Once my patience for schemes ran years. Another drop. What was it they said to me? It had been weeks, and I hadn’t noted it down. 'I look forward to our next meeting, friend.' I whispered it out loud, as if telling my potion a secret. His tone still rang clear in my head. Another drop. I could be completely wrong. 

… 

…At some point I dozed off when I was waiting for the mixture to cool down, near dawn. If it wasn’t for the murmur of the shops outside in the plaza, I would’ve likely rested for hours more.

The potion had cooled down, finally showing that purple-red shimmer in the otherwise transparent liquid. I had made it correctly. With sluggish movements, I reached for the cheesecloth and funnel. Lining the cone with the fabric and pouring the mixture into a bottle so the diamond sand could get filtered away. I took a small swig of the potion and started counting, looking intently at my hand fade away….. The potion lasted a good six minutes. When my hand came back into view, I picked up my quill and noted it down. My stomach growled at me for drinking such a sharp liquid before eating anything. I reluctantly started cleaning up my tools to make way for breakfast.

Walking up the palace steps only took some three minutes. -Ish… And walking past the temple canton, that was.. If I used a spell to get to the temples first, so as not to be seen, maybe I could wait it out by the wall and then use the potion once I knew the Archcanon was making the trip up to the Lord. Then I’d just follow him and slide in through the door while it was opened. That’s not the WORST plan… That would even leave a couple of minutes for me to find a corner to be in once the invisibility would wear off. Now I just had to figure out the Archcanon’s routine. That should be easy from my balcony.

I took my plate and notebook with me, starting to jot down whatever pattern I saw. In the beginning it felt random. The Archcanon, a slightly scrawny looking fellow with red hair and ill-fitting important robes, seemed to run up and down the stairs frequently, sometimes with papers in his hands, sometimes with another person in tow. This was good news to me at least, as it left a lot of chances for me to follow along. The random visits showed themselves to be more timed though, after the fifth hour of looking. It was every hour at the halfway point. Now, I had no idea what event or situation would require such a tight and timely schedule, but that was NOT good news. That probably meant something important was going on, and that people would be more alert as a result…

…Was the plan to do it today? The potion wouldn’t go bad for a whole week, so that wasn’t a concern. But in my tired mind, that feeling still nagged at me. What I had previously called impulsiveness. I felt like I was on a deadline. As my hand trailed off the page, that simple thought took over. I really felt like there was a deadline. Like I was studying for some sort of exam. I tried finding footing in my thoughts, sifting back in my notebook in hopes that I had transcribed some of that conversation I had with the God King. I almost forgot to look over the railing to keep tabs on the archcanon, suddenly having to multitask on this new little idea. Past a couple of sketches and small unfinished paintings, I seemed to have quoted something near a study of one of the statues I saw on the plaza across my own: ‘A social networker, then. I won’t pry into why you’ve ended up here in Vvardenfell, of all places. However…’ followed by some question marks. 

I frowned at the paper. It’s not enough to go on. But I still remembered how they looked at me when they said it. Like they were sizing me up, challenging me even. I was getting frustrated. It had to be today.

I didn’t pack a blade, nor did I hood myself. I wanted to have open palms for the meeting, however stupid it might be to not be able to defend oneself. But I didn’t do all of this to be defensive anyway… The potion was neatly tucked away in my belt pouch and the additional illusion spell was already glittering at my fingertips in anticipation. I had packed my notebook as well, at this point having grown irritated at my former self for not taking proper notes. So now that was strapped against the back of my belt as well, gently pressed against the small of my back. I wasn’t going on a month-long journey or anything, best keep it light and secure. I took one last glance at the temple, seeing the Archcanon stepping down to his offices like clockwork. I had an hour to get myself in position.

Everything was timed and going as planned. So far. I had decided to drink the potion first and then use a spell, because then I could at least control when I would like to be seen when I arrived. It was safest to take my normal route out of the canton, sauntering out of the waistworks and heading East to reach the middle, lest any suspicion should arise. Once I had settled under a plaza bridge’s shadow, I continued counting the minutes in my head as I kept an eye on the temple doors in the distance. I had memorised the routes of the ordinators already, more out of habit than of need, so I was confident enough to not get caught at the start line… And just when I wanted it to happen, the Archcanon stepped out of the temple. He seemed slightly nervous..? I didn’t have time to think about that. I downed the potion, letting it take effect just before I stepped onto the temple canton’s bridge. I pursued.

Walking close to him, I managed to get a better look. Middle aged, not holding anything this time… And so unmistakingly nervous. Looking around like he was expecting to see me somewhere. He fiddled with his hands so much that he forgot to lift his robes over the stairs, making way for a lot of stumbling. That made me worried, but it was too late to back out now. We were already up the first steps towards the palace, and the counting I had to do in my head to time the potion didn’t let me rethink my actions.

Right before the six minute mark, I switched over to hiding with a spell. We were almost at the top of the stairs now, and I thought I had actually made it. I wasn’t seen, I had gone through the worst hurdle and now the buoyant armigers were saluting the archcanon.

“Shh..” He hissed back, and I knew then in my gut that I had been found out. It didn’t matter how much my heart sank, the door was opened before I could think to turn around. And just when I DID have that thought, Vivec called out.

“Come inside you two, we don’t have all day.”

...

The sound of the door closing behind me broke my concentration completely, giving the Archcanon a little spook as I appeared. I must have looked just as startled, because the God-King started to giggle. I would have felt offended in any other circumstance, but all I could think to stutter out was a question that’s been eating at me since last time we met.

“Did-.... Did you actually want to see me?”

“Why of course. I pushed you along, even.”

He remarked, a knowing smile plastered across his blue and yellow features. He did push me. Against the railing by the Foreign Quarter. I felt a bit nauseous. “...I didn’t see who pushed in the crowd. This was a test, wasn’t it, you said-”

“What I say will always need interpretation and afterthought. And you did so, and came to the right conclusion. Just in time as well.”

Whatever point I had died on my tongue. I felt played with, but somehow not maliciously. My whole face felt warm and stuffy with a weird mixture of embarrassment and… Something else. I looked away from his smile, lest I started stumbling too. The Archcanon cleared his throat then, and Vivec seemed to perk up.

“Ah, yes! As entertaining as this is, we’re on a deadline.” They declared, dropping down on their feet as if getting off an invisible perch in the air. And then they touched me. On my shoulder, a warm and gentle hand started leading me to the side as the Archcanon hurried after us into Vivec’s private quarters. I looked up at him with wide eyes, in some silent plea for answers. The hand squeezed to calm me.

My head bounced off M’aiko’s chest plate when I whirled around from the palace doors. 

“What the fuck happened in there!?”

I let out a confused yelp in response, my fingers tingling with adrenaline and my forehead pounding from the metal it just collided with. He had to properly fix me to the ground with his hands on my shoulders before I thought to answer. “Uh, they- … You can’t keep secrets around mystics like them. And-”“Are you in trouble?”M’aiko asked, seeming just about ready to throw me over his shoulder and run. It was an endearing gesture if nothing else.

“No.”

“No?”

“This one actually thinks I’m the opposite of ‘in trouble’?”

The taller cat cocked his head, and I only shrugged in response. 

“He seemed well aware of my... Illusionary methods. And took great interest in that. I thought they’d have me arrested or something, but he only bid farewell with a promise of a ‘next meeting’. Maybe he just meant in case I picked up another job, like offered?...”

“Maybe…”

M’aiko hummed, looking at me for a moment as he seemingly tried to decipher something from my words. But then he shook his head, just as I thought he was about to ask further into it.

“We should find an inn to get some rest in until tomorrow. Then we can collect our money.”

I felt a small jab in my stomach, something I hadn’t thought to consider creeping into my mind. “...And then we’re probably on our separate ways, yes?”

M’aiko took a small step back and glided a palm over his locs. It seemed as if he wasn’t much for it either, separating as such… 

We didn’t talk much on the way back through the city. I took the liberty of holding his hand through the large noisy crowds of Saint Olms’ lower-class markets, mumbling something about not wanting to get lost. He most likely didn’t hear me through the crowd, but he didn’t let go of my hand either. The stone we walked on was hot and humid. The midday sun was warm on my nose and made my head boil. The thought of Vivec crept back on me. How their light kind of felt like this. Less harsh, but just as dizzying… I tried to go back over the whole encounter as I quietly followed M’aiko around the canton city, back to the Foreign Quarter. How they had smiled at me when I looked up at them. Or did I imagine that? I had, I probably had. Or how they had called me friend. That part definitely happened. 

I almost bumped into an ordinator in my haze, and I realised we were already over the bridge to the Foreign Quarter. I shook my head and let go of M’aiko’s hand.

M’aiko paid for a room and two bottles of flin. The little cornerclub was new, like the walls themselves, and so the prices were low in fear of bad first impressions. Even so, I did thank M’aiko with a furrowed brow as he came into the corner booth with the two Cyrodilic whiskeys.

“Isn’t it a bit early to lighten your pouch on commodities like booze?” 

He simply shook his head and sat down, handing me one of the metallic flasks. The liquid sloshed inside the container, and I braced myself for the burn it would bring to drink. 

“A proper toast needs a proper drink to do it with. We’ve earned it!”

I had yet to see him as pronounced as now. An extraverted tone never quite fit him, but it still made me laugh. He smiled back at me like he always would when he made me laugh. I was going to miss him, and I had only known this cat for some two weeks. But we had enjoyed ourselves on our little adventure, so it was only natural we got a bit hammered to celebrate.

“To fight and friendship. And also financial gain.”

“May we meet again and get drunk all the same!”

… 

The money waiting for me had been enough for a double-room flat in St. Delyn Plaza. I couldn’t believe it. And there was still enough weight in the pouch for food and decor, as well as some books and paints to pass the time. As I dropped my travel gear on the clay floor and looked around, I realised the contract had assured a bed and kitchenette in the purchase as well. I actually couldn’t believe it. Not because I was surprised, but because I KNEW that my deeds to the temple didn’t call for such a payment. This was too much, and something seemed off. It was as if someone had already paid half before I even looked at the apartment options. I didn’t like it. Of course, I had my theories. But all of them were a bit outlandish. 

The leading theory was that the Lord had something to do with it. I felt as if I was kept at an arm’s reach for a purpose. And their strange departing words certainly attested to that. A whole month had gone by, and they still rang in my head. In the end, I spent little time actually looking for any jobs to keep the housing, only sitting on the balcony with fruit and hobbies. Sketching out the architecture around me, painting over it with gouache, adding fantastical creatures in the corners of the paper. My head going in circles, trying to decide on how I came to be here. And what Vivec would need me for. What they couldn’t just do themself.

But that wasn’t to say I wasn’t thankful. So many nights out in the dangerous open had made me forget about the comfort of beds, or the calm of knowing a stocked cabinet of food was only a few feet away. The neighbours were... Well, they didn’t bother, at least. Which was honestly the best outcome. I couldn’t care less if they took it to complaining behind closed doors. About having an outlander live in the plaza closest to the Lord… If anything, I agreed with them on that being weird. 

But the days went by undisturbed. I had slowly started becoming comfortable walking in the streets of the Vivec. And more familiar with the traffic and smells for each errand I went on. The pawn shops and alchemists began to recognise my face as well. Even the marketplace seemed a little less guarded when spotting my tail. Less focused on where my clawed hands were hiding… One of the merchants had even taken to actually chatting with me. However, the chats often consisted of gossip bordering on interrogation. He probably had little else to fill his day with, so I often just complied and let him ask. There was one subject I had a hard time talking about though. Unfortunately, it was also the one he fished for the most.

“I hear rumours, you know…” 

His voice was always hoarse. One could always hear when he was the one coughing out advertisements for his meats. It stuck out like a sore thumb among the otherwise smooth calls of the other persuasive elven merchants. But I didn’t like those much. His hands wrapped a paper over the ribs I had bought with a practised motion.

“Rumours?” I let out a lighthearted laugh, however false it was. He dumped the pound of meat in my basket and nodded.

“A khajiit does not just show up here, go directly to the Lord’s temple, then gets approved for a home in the most sought-after living area of the city.”

I hummed. I knew he wanted more gossip to spread out of me. With a little shrug, I put some septims on his table. The side profile of Vivec glinted back up at me in the lantern light of his booth. A gem in their long stretched ear, nicely crooked nose… Even in gold pennies, they didn’t do his image justice.

“I’m in no high standing with the God, if that’s what you mean. Where did you hear this?”

“Just whispers from nosy denizens…”

We didn’t talk about much more than that. Rumours. And every time I deflected his curiosity, he hummed a small acknowledgement and let me leave when I wanted to. But I could still feel his red eyes following me out the waistworks. Every time… 

This particular time it was raining. Petrichor assaulted my nose as soon as I got out, and all I could do was stand there, under the awning of the Redoran canton door. Looking on as the rain stained the sandy floor of the canton. Some people rushed past me and through the door, while others shouldered the ashy rain with a grumble. I was in no high standing with the God… But at this point, he owed me some answers.

Arriving home, my mind was fixed and sharp like I had just stepped out into the wilderness again. I searched all the cabinets I had, looking for whatever ingredients there were. Then I could make a list of what was missing. There was an abundance of bittergreen, but no dell’arco spae. I had leftover ciciliani oil from the last meal, so that was covered as well. But where in the world would I find a diamond? I had my mortar and pestle, of course, and funnel and measuring tools. I was sure a lantern could easily be reworked into a burner too. It was just that damn diamond I needed. Dell’arco could probably be found in the market, and if I ended up needing more oils I could just make some.

I sat down on the floor, looking at the spread of tools I had put out. Pulling my hair back and away from my eyes. Was this over the top? I knew how to make a short invisibility spell already. In theory, I could just do that instead of making a longer-lasting potion. My mind wandered back to the nosy merchant then, and how he just so happened to know exactly where i had been, and when… If I was seen walking up those steps again, or even near the temple canton for that matter, the dunmer would be talking about it by the next meal. I had to make that potion. I couldn’t risk being seen.

Diamond could come later at least. I was sure I could make some connections in the Telvanni canton if I tried hard enough, and those wizards were probably drowning in gems they didn’t need. Maybe. I had never really spoken to proper esteemed mages like the Telvanni.

With my list tucked away in my pants and a kwama scone later, I rushed out the door again.

As I had suspected, the healer in the Foreign Quarter had dell’arco. I bought two, just in case of something going wrong in the brewing process. The healer herself, an older breton lady with a permanent scowl lodged into her wrinkles, had outright denied me a third. Either she wanted to use them herself, or she had just adopted the dunmers’ mistrust over the years of living here. I hardly blamed her, dell’arco spae was… Let’s say less than harmless in larger quantities. But never mind that. I had what I needed now, except for that stupid rock. 

The Telvanni were… Kind of a scary option. I’d rather avoid them. So while I got pushed along with the crowd, out of the canton, I started brainstorming other options. Theft? Hey no, I just got here. That would be a horrible first impression if I ended up being caught. If, being the keyword… But no, bad idea. There was always an abundance of adventurers and mercenaries coming through the city, maybe I could sweet talk one of them to some of their spoils? However, that would likely take weeks. I had gotten quite rusty with flirting. Maybe if I just-

I got pushed. Someone in the crowd must have had more urgent places to be, and I was shoved harshly against the railing. Trying to suck my breath back, I avoided looking down at the deep water below me, reeling back to gain my footing. I checked my basket. I checked my necklaces. Nothing was knocked off of me, at least… There were some angry exclamations around me from the traffic of civilians, but I wasn’t focused on that anymore. Looking over the railing made me notice a caravan, terra firma. Better yet, a khajiiti caravan, with merchants. Wealthy ones, likely with jewels to sell. Whoever pushed me just saved me a lot of trouble. 

Stepping over the bridge again felt strange when it really shouldn’t. I hadn’t really acknowledged it, but I had spent a good couple of months by now in the city, without the faintest hint of restlessness under the unmoving structures around me. It almost shocked me to hear the crunch of gravel under my boots as I stepped off of the paved ground. But it hardly made me falter, a sudden urge to run shooting up my spine at the prospect of being on land and doing my own little mission. I practically skipped over to where I had seen the caravan, hardly minding my basket’s contents almost spilling. 

…That was until I almost ran into a massive pahmar-raht. 

I halted, just short of colliding with her belt. As I looked up to see what face was blocking out the sun, the hard intimidating features of the tigress bodyguard concurrently softened. 

She looked stunning. Despite her obvious job as hired muscle, it seemed that the merchant had decorated her attire to look just as eye-catching as the newly unfolded tent behind her. Armoured heavy in local chitin plate, but with Elsweyr silk glittering just beneath it. Oval golden beads dangled from a sash she had neatly tied beneath her belt, matching with her proudly visible bracelets and necklaces. She was, however, also very very intimidating. I gulped my heart back down my throat just in time for her to speak. Not to me, despite the eye contact. To someone behind her. The accent was thick and reminded me of motherly figures from back home.

“Jo’dul, this one found a cub of kin!”

Past her giant shoulders, a deeper voice could be heard. Though it took me a good while to decide where it came from. 

“Bring them here. In a land like this, kin should get discounts.” As she moved to the side for this Jo’dul to size me up as well, my eyes finally landed on him. An alfiq, lazily curled against lavish silks alike the ones on his bouncer. He himself wore as many jewels as his size would allow, both of his small ears pierced threefold. His well pleased yellow eyes settled on my face, looking me over with approval and encouragement. My eyes, however, fell to his jewels. There, behind a couple of golden chains, snug against his chestnut fur, the unmistakable glimmer of a diamond winked at me.

“What can this one get you, friend?”

It fell out of me eagerly before my decorum objected.

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat. Gone, just like that. I cursed under my breath as I looked up from the shrubbery at whoever was obnoxious enough to scare my lunch away. An Elseweyr mercenary… And here I thought I'd be left alone, so far east. The feline man crouched by the bank of the water, filling his water skin. Seeming pretty pissed off himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone?

Despite my gut feeling of simply turning away, I stood up, hailing the fellow. 

We soon ended up making a campfire, finding it easier to camp together for the night. Of course only after we both understood no harm would come to the other. As a performance of trust, we shared our names and secrets as well, as the moons peaked over the horizon. 

M'aiko was his name. A grumpy and quiet Cathay, but not without a small humour in his eye. As he dusted his rations with moonsugar, he began to speak freely for the first time that night. 

“M'aiko is looking for some cultist Ashlander. As it turns out this is a regular occurrence. However, this particular cultist has avoided proving his validity long enough for it to be a bother.” 

I nodded at his words, pondering the fire as it heated the hound meat I bought some days ago in Molag Mar. 

“I hear it's about some rebirth prophecy. Some king that died long ago… But wait, if you're doing this job, wouldn't your employer be-?”

M'aiko grinned, seeming a bit self-satisfied. “This one has no idea how I've come to such luck, but Lord Vivec himself sent me. Well... Through a mouthpiece.”

“How do you know you're not being set up for a simple assassination?”

“They paid beforehand. And only the houses would grace anyone with as heavy a pouch as what I got.”

I hummed... It seemed a bit too good to be true. But I didn't have the heart to say it. Though, it WAS pretty believable. As the khajiit would show me, he had the official tribunal seal on him and everything. I looked back at his pouch… 

“Say… You still owe this one for that mudcrab I was to eat tonight. Why don't you pay me back by letting me come along?”

M’aiko didn’t seem too pleased by the idea of having me with. Understandable. I was but a simple hunter. But I did so want to come with. He simply raised a brow and handed me some of his moonsugar as the meat I had on the fire seemed finished. “What could a hunter offer a mercenary?”“Restoration magic, Illusion magic… Lock picking and a good arrow.” I listed, sprinkling a healthy amount of the glittery spice on the meat. It had been quite some time since I had felt the good and warm buzz of my home’s number one trade. “And this one could only imagine you long for another cat to speak to. These dumner are not the best company…” 

I got him to laugh at that. I curled my tail in delight, knowing I had now won him over. 

…

My boot came down heavy on the last embers of the fire the next morning. We had agreed to wake early, to be done with the job as soon as possible. I wasn't too eager to kill anyone, but it was not like I hadn't done so before. The roads were treacherous. It was necessary to kill these days. This time, however, it was to be a little different. Thankfully, M'aiko and I had already planned that I was to be his shadow, and less so in the middle of the conflict. If he needed healing, he was to get healing. If he needed his back covered, he was to be aided by my arrow. That was something I could get behind.

I followed M'aiko's steps through the tiny islands on the edge of the coast. We agreed that the roads were too risky to be caught in. The roads had yet to become more guarded in the wake of the recent uptick in crime this year, but we were primarily worried about being seen by commoners. M’aiko had promised confidentiality. So hiding in nature seemed like our best bet.

The round volcanic pebbles rustled by the shoreline, making odd clicking sounds as they grinded together. I picked one up and put it in my pocket as we walked. The trip wouldn’t take so long, he assured. Halfway to Sadrith Mora. So I was content enough to just walk along. Passing small ruins of Dwemer, egg mines, and other small locations of note… I enjoyed the change of scenery. M’aiko was quick, however, so we never stayed in one place for long. Only when we rested. He even carried me when the water was too high for me to safely swim from island to island with my gear, simply because he didn’t have the time to go around. We used the night for travelling as well. But not before long…

“You see the tents over the creeks, yes?”

I hummed in the affirmative, having already subconsciously lowered my body a little. 

“We are to target Dralas. He is a loud type, easy to spot. Preferably no one will see us by the time it is over.”

“I'll head up behind the cliffside then. From there, my arrow and spells will be within range of the camp.” 

I suggested, and M'aiko silently nodded in agreement to the plan. I took that as my cue to quietly disappear up the hill to take purchase by a larger rock, for cover. Once I was situated and hidden, I took my dagger and let the sun fall upon it, guiding the reflected light upon M'aiko to tell him I was ready.

And so he went.

He was quick. I couldn't look away for a moment, lest he simply disappear from my eyes. Not a soul in the camp realised as he sneaked from tent to tent, many of the nomads having yet to properly wake up yet. Then Dralas stepped out from the wise women's tent. And things were quick to get more complicated. 

As Dralas stepped outside, he called the camp close to surround him, to make some kind of announcement. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could easily understand that all this attention on our target was a stick in the wheel for M'aiko's plan. I tried to think, quickly. M'aiko looked up at me in frustrated uncertainty… I took out one of my arrows and brushed my hand against the stick. Concentrating on it… And just then, I was no longer holding an arrow. I put the weight I felt in my hand against the arrow rest on my bow, breathed in as I pulled the string back… And then Dralas clutched his chest. Blood spread quickly under his sandy cape. The arrow revealed itself as my concentration faltered. And Dralas fell to the ground.

The outrage was immediate, and the armed Ashlanders were soon out to search the surrounding area for me. M'aiko took the opposite direction, and I spent my remaining magic to become unseen as I followed him away from the crime scene…

“...Did I get him properly? I couldn't see if he died from where I sat.” 

I spoke up quietly, dropping the invisibility when I knew we were both hidden well enough. We could still hear the yells from the camp.

“Oh, you got him alright.”

M’aiko's voice was heaving, and I was for a moment afraid that he had gotten hurt in the chaos of getting away. But he held up a hand to signal he was fine.

“...You're coming back to Vivec with this one. I think this calls for you to get the other half of the payment.”

…

I had never been to Vivec City before. I had imagined it to be big, but this was beyond my expectations. The newly finished Foreign Quarter greeted us, and M’aiko looked down at me with a humoured expression. I barely noticed, my eyes glued to the giant rock floating over the tops of the cantons. I knew I was small, but this made me feel ever so smaller… 

“Never been here, I assume?”

I shook my head quietly and fixed on the straps of my old rucksack a bit. Maybe I looked too uncomfortable. Holding onto my dignity, I took the first step over the bridge to the city, knowing M’aiko would follow to not lose me in the crowd.

We had travelled together for a little under a week now, through the east side. Become what I would probably call friends. We never really spoke when on the move, but we shared plenty of stories and laughs over the fire. The night before we arrived at Vivec, I had taken out the Skyrim mead I had been keeping for the right occasion. The wooden cups dyed lightly purple from the blackberry spirits. M’aiko nodded a thank you. He was quiet tonight. “The Temple Canton is open to the public. When we get there, we’ll likely speak with Vivec about your payment.”

I choked on the mead. “What, THE Vivec??”

M’aiko nodded, giving a cheeky smile I had come to recognize as teasing. But it seemed a bit forced. I understood it fine enough. Two Khajiiti mercenaries are not exactly ‘meant’ to interact with the Dumner gods. And the thought of even setting foot in the home of one of them was nerve-wracking… We drank from our cups in silent synchronicity. After a moment of quiet, I decided to ask what I was sure we were both uncertain about.

“Well, what do you plan on saying to him?”

The stairs up to the temple looked like a whole day’s worth of fitness. This god must think they’re quite high and mighty… I tried my best not to roll my eyes at having to exhaust myself, as we approached the temple doors. Or palace doors. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to call this gold-plated erection... M’aiko patted my back as we reached the final steps, heaving just as much as myself by the end. The guards standing watch by the entrance somehow emanated the energy of a side eye to the both of us through their helms, looking on as we caught our breath a bit. But they didn’t block the entrance, thankfully. 

I looked at M’aiko. M’aiko looked at me, reflecting my expression perfectly. He looked like he was about to shit himself. 

“On three?”

“No, that’s stupid.” He countered, opening the temple gate with a push before I could quip back. I sucked in a small breath, getting my heart stuck in my throat. I was not ready. Neither was he, but the bastard didn’t show it like I undoubtedly was. 

I had no choice but to follow his tail, however, making an active effort not to make myself too visible. Or visible at all. Anything to make M’aiko be the one talking.

The greeting hall felt bigger than it looked from the outside. Murals complimented the round loft of the chamber, gold lines shimmering echoes of the stories they told. Of Vivec, and his deeds to the lands of Vvardenfell. Of his accomplishments, and their power. I looked down at the floor. It seemed rude to stare. A small pat on my back from M’aiko made me buckle down on one knee, my eyes still fixed on the tiled floor. I felt rickety and confused. And then I felt warmth fall on my forehead and shin. A bright light casting shadows in the cracks of the ceramic stone. I made damn sure to keep my head down.

“Lord Vivec. This one comes to announce the downfall of Dralas of the Erabenimsun Tribe.” He sounded so formal.

“I thank you for this news. Who is your companion?”

My throat bobbed. I didn’t know if I should talk. Or look up. But M’aiko thankfully set forth my name before I had to do it. 

“He was the one who dealt the final blow. That is why we went to you directly, so you can judge the payment for his contribution.”

“I see.”

…I had to look up now.

When we locked eyes, he surprisingly didn’t seem all that imposing. More curious and gentle than anything. He was still hard to look at, with practically shining skin and a presence that nearly filled the entire room. It was hard to hold a common-folk bias towards what I was looking at. Even when I was kneeling on a floor that probably cost more to make than what I would have been sold for. 

I made an awkward croak. He smiled. I looked back down. “I have made up my mind. I propose you get equal payment to compliment your companion’s pouch. Furthermore, I will sign you a permit to purchase housing here in Vivec, for your initiative to help the temple. And lastly…”I could see the god’s feet touch the ground, not a sound emanating from him at all. It made me wonder if I was imagining things. I couldn’t hear him like I heard most other living things. I couldn’t find a breath. A heartbeat. Except for my own galloping organ.

“I thank you. Should you ever need work again, you will always be welcome in the temple for it. I will make sure there is always a position you may take.”

I tried making a sound, pressing out what could be interpreted as a “thank you”. It didn’t go too well, so I tried adding some kind of head-bowing to it. M’aiko thanked them as well, following my lead with a bow. This was scary and embarrassing and humiliating and I needed to leave. M’aiko was already getting up and leaving. But as I went to stand myself, to back away timidly, I was robbed of that opportunity to flee, to get away from the probably already sore eyes of the God-King. However, they were the one stopping me, calling my name. “You are but a simple hunter, yes?”

I looked back instinctively, but quickly changed my mind and averted my gaze again when I actually met them with my eyes. “Uh… Yeah- Yes. I’ve just been living off the land. For about eight months now.”

It took real strength to not use khajiiti formalities with him. I had come to know how dumner people sometimes react to such things, so I tried my best to use their tongue. But if this had been the Mane… I remembered giving my hair when I went away. It was much like this. Scary, humbling and breathtaking. Speaking to overpowering devines was never really my cup of tea. But back then, before all of it, when I had given my hair. It felt easier. Maybe that was simply just because it was kin. Or because I had an innocence to hide behind.

“You must excuse my curiosity. But I fail to see how a common hunter like yourself would need to know illusion magic to such a high degree.”

M’aiko hadn’t said how I killed Dralas, did he? He didn’t. I looked up at Vivec, my confusion louder than my awe for just a moment. They simply smiled encouragingly for an answer. “Uhm… I, well..” Would I get captured if I just run now? Was I allowed to tell him? I should act less apprehended.

“.... Back in Elsweyr, I once spent my days making some coin in higher circles, lending out my services to nobles who wanted an extra hand in networking. It was… Appreciated, when one’s opponents heard false rumours. Saw the wrong hand at the gambling table. Things like that. After some complications with those very opponents, it was best for me to leave and live off the grid for a while.”

Vivec hummed along to my words, giving a small nod. Did I just out myself for a fraud? Or a criminal? I did, I didn’t mean to say so much. It was as if their gaze pulled the words out of my mouth with string. My mind raced to try and read the god’s reaction. Was such activity illegal here? I hadn’t done it since I left, but… 

“A social networker, then. I won’t pry into why you’ve ended up here in Vvardenfell, of all places. However…”

I had to look down again when he came closer. They were scrutinizing me, I knew as much. But I also knew why, now. I was useful. I could feel it in their demeanour, I had proved myself useful. More handy than a sword for hire, at least…

“... Hm. I look forward to our next meeting, friend.”

Vicente winced at the nips at the base of his neck as he did his best to stay still on his elbows and knees as his lovers fur warmed his frozen flesh, the bumps along the Khajiit's cock could be felt against his lower back as he shifted to line himself with Vicente's prepared hole. He knew his partner's rut was due soon enough, and he's been feeling a little pent up himself. This was a welcome change of pace.

Vicente gasped softly as the foreign member slid into him, his teeth digging into his shoulder as he attempted to ground himself, careful not to draw blood. Low growls rumbled from the Khajiit, voicing his possessiveness and pleasure simultaneously. He waited, allowed Vicente to adjust and relax, calming himself as well; he didn't want to accidentally hurt Vicente in any way.

Vicente moaned at the soft thrusts that gradually grew in speed and intensity until he was being pounded into, a clawed hand wrapping around his weeping cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. Vicente's moans grew louder and more desperate as he reached his climax, shaking as he came, his hole clenching and coaxing the Khajiit towards his own orgasm.