#leesil

Leesil finds them not far from the Greathall, huddled around a well-thumbed map of Skyrim. Three pairs of piercing eyes landing on him in surprise before he can even mutter the apology that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue. Sadesa breaks the strained silence first. “Guess Brionna owes me twenty septims”, she proclaims while walking around the table, smothering him in her tight embrace a short moment later. “Where’ve you been, big guy?” As usual, there’s a hint of Sujamma clouding her breath; her fiery red eyes study his face closely. “Hunting.” He doesn’t like how apologetic he sounds. But he can’t help it. Deep down, he feels like he’s done something terribly wrong. Not so long ago this brave little venture would’ve cost him his meal. Earned him another round of caning. What was he thinking, not telling them anything about it? Now he truly feels guilty. Now Leesil wishes he’d left. “In the middle of the night?”, Velius inquires carefully, masking his actual question with a more sensible one. His tone of voice - though calm and collected - demands an honest answer. He knows. Not like Thelen knows things without knowing he knows things, no. This has nothing to do with magic. Unfortunately for Leesil, the Legate simply is an exceptionally good judge of character. “I... couldn’t sleep.” “Could’ve paid me a visit”, Sadesa offers, her gloved fingers invitingly roaming across his chest, and Leesil has to fight the urge to flinch from her gentle touch. She means no harm. He’s no longer in Alinor. He has the right to say... “No.” Again, not how he intended for this to come out. It’s too harsh... too jumpy. But the Dunmer understands. She’s always understood him far better than the others. “No, I just... had a really bad night. Didn’t wanna wake any of you. Besides, this way I got to hunt down the biggest deer I’ve seen in a very long time.” He doesn’t want to talk about this. Doesn’t know how to put his nightmares into coherent words without having to live through them a second time. But then, he doesn’t have to. “I’m proud of you.” Velius tends to do this a lot. Saying one thing and meaning something else entirely. Diplomacy, the humans and Thalmor call it, and by Yffre, the Imperial’s good at it. “Now, if we could return to the task at hand?” The Dragonborn nods and just like that, the tension in the air is gone.  When Sadesa grabs his hand and leads him to the table they’ve gathered around, Leesil feels like a fool. For doubting them. For doubting himself. For wanting to run away yet another time. Because, yes, learning how to trust again is difficult. But he’s getting there. And he knows he can do it with their help.