Some people, once they're old and frail and flubbing half their chords, can feel impending weather in their bones. Inge Six-Fingers, Dean of Lute, can feel impending foolishness. She scowls and rubs her knee. A laugh like a bear being baited echoes from the headmaster's office, sure enough.
“Stop him,” groans Giraud through his hands when she stumps in. “Oh, stop him.”
The tableau's familiar, thinks Inge, already cross. Viarmo's pacing behind his desk, bright-eyed, ablaze with some new notion like Olaf in effigy. The desk is strewn with papers, winecups, tented books. Giraud's slumped in the good chair. A stranger, the only surprise, sits on the stool: a woman in hunter's furs, young, with a wolf's long smile.
“It’s only just, Giraud,” says Viarmo, spreading his huge hands in supplication. He grins at Inge. It's the same grin, she thinks, that he'd flashed at her fifty years ago before breaking another master's nose. “A king can sever our lutestrings, our purse-strings, our heads—”
“You’ve lost yours already—”
“—but who, in the end, sings the king’s deeds,” Viarmo declaims, undaunted, “when king and crown are dust indeed?”
“Too many syllables,” says the wolf-woman at once.
“You’re right," Viarmo concedes after a moment's sober thought. "Were we flyting, I’d be laughed out of court. Once more unto the breach.” He clears his throat. “But who, in sooth, sings the—”
“You,” snaps Inge, rounding on him, “you old ruffian, and you”—she jabs a finger at Giraud, who starts to attention like a flogged legionary—“tell me what you're up to, and who that—is that," she says in a different voice, staring at the bottle on the desk, "the Surilie?”
For several frightful years old Bendt, who captains the College's kitchen like a galley, has hoarded the Surilie. No one else dares enter the buttery; the door-key, on its length of dirty string, glints around Bendt's neck like a dire talisman. The masters joke that he mutters to it. The apprentices joke that a third-year who broke into the buttery for mead was walled up there alive.
"The Surilie," Viarmo announces with a grand sweep of his arm, as if heralding the arrival of some prince. He reaches for the bottle. "Let me pour you some."
Inge watches him with fascination. "Gone mad, have you?"
"And while I'm at it," the madman continues, splashing two fingers of Bendt's best wine into the nearest cup, "may I introduce you to Lydia Lítli, fosterling of Whiterun's jarl?" His grin broadens, if such a thing is possible. Inge's leg twinges. "She's brought us Svaknir's lost verse."
Inge looks hard at him. Then she looks hard at Giraud, the little weed, who wilts. Lydia Lítli, when the hard eyes flick to her, scrapes a stiff and well-trained bow.
"No, you haven't," Inge says, staring at her. "No, she hasn't. It's—you lug," she goes on with some asperity, turning back to Viarmo, "it's lost."
Giraud's voice is muffled by his hands. "I wish it were lost."
Viarmo gestures operatically with the cup. "I have transcribed it—"
Giraud sits up. An outraged flush suffuses his peaky face. "Despoiled it—"
"—restored, with Lydia's helpful erudition and the invaluable expertise of our own Master Gemane, those portions that weathered the years poorly—"
"Filled the gaps with utter tripe, is what he means—"
"—and have prepared it for recitation on the morrow," Viarmo concludes with good cheer, "at court, where it will pay your salaries." He raises the cup in toast—then blinks at it, no doubt recalling that he'd meant it for Inge, and passes it to her. "Santé."
Kyne's bloody beak, she thinks, staring at him. "You've forged Svaknir's lost verse."
"Please, Inge." Viarmo looks down at her with eyes wide and ears flat—astonished, she thinks, as a cat tapped on the nose. Scoundrel. She can tell by his mouth that he's trying not to laugh. "Skalds have collaborated on their compositions since the first lute was strung."
"You've gotten drunk on Bendt's prize vintage," Inge retorts, not to be gainsaid, "all three of you, and forged—"
"Reconstructed—"
"Collaborated on," Giraud puts in nastily, "I thought—"
A polite throat clears. When Inge looks up, Lydia meets her eyes as only wolves will do.
"Try the wine," she says—this Hviting horse-breaker, this shield-thane in her skins. "It's good."
It's Giraud's face that finally does Inge in. She turns from them all, her scowl contorting, and drowns a laugh in the cup.
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I’m running out of title ideas for my doodle hauls
Took another attempt and drawing a character from memory, this time it’s Viarmo! I took purposeful creative liberty with his outfit but I think his head came out nice!
Then I drew an Akatosh concept, still really struggling with how I want dragons to look but I like this direction. I’m also an Evil Akatosh believer, hence why he looks //gestures// like that
Then a doodle of Haymon that I really had to mess with in post because I got the proportion so wrong. His hair is so hard >n< you can see my frustrated notes lol
And lastly a Smallkar, Martiny, and Lil’Ego (being preyed upon by Akatosh)
So, today was a bit of a bust, money-wise, but at least Erandur doesn't have to hide from Viarmo anymore.
Oh, I can't wait to get to that part! Valdimar's still making fun of him for it!
Anyway, we got up, and it was pouring rain. Coming down in buckets.
We took our time with breakfast, but it wasn't letting up, so I decided to at least go out and do some trading. We sold off what little we got from the cave, but while we were out, the weather started to clear.
So, we got our gear on, and went down the steps to see what we could find at the docks.
Honestly, we didn't find much aside from soggy dock workers, a ferryman who can take us to Dawnstar (useful), and a very distracted Vittoria.
She greeted Lydia warmly enough, and the two of them started up the usual polite chatter that you hear when everyone's smiles are too tight.
The rest of us milled around and just looked at the ships until Lydia rejoined us.
Lydia was in a good mood as we left the docks, though. She asked if we could make a stop in the East Empire Company's main office when we reached Windhelm.
She'd put her helm back on, but I could hear the mischief in her voice.
I asked her why she wanted to go there, and she said that Vittoria was in a good mood because she didn't have much to do lately. She's been able to spend all her time at work planning her wedding, instead. She said pirates have been taking out East Empire ships left and right, but word on the street is that there's more to it than that.
Vittoria wouldn't elaborate, but Lydia chatted with a guard who looked less than pleased that his boss lady was doodling flower arrangements and working out seating charts on the job. He said that if we wanted to know more, we'd have to head to Windhelm.
Valdimar laughed and asked if she really wanted to help the East Empire Company get their shipments through just so Vittoria would have to actually do her job instead of plan her wedding?
"Yes," she said, and she didn't even hesitate.
Erandur sounded just as amused as the rest of us, but he did point out how very petty that was.
I piped up and said that yes, it was, and that I love it!
I really do. I mean, Lydia's normally very fair, but Vittoria deserves it. I can't remember their conversations word for word, but every time we run into her she drops a new backhanded compliment or not-so-subtle jab at her or us.
Bitch.
Anyway, we decided to try heading up the mountain to see if we could find anything.
All we found was the Thalmor Embassy, an angry bear, and driving snow so bad Erandur and I damn near froze to death. Our spells and torches only did so much, and even Flame Cloak only kept the chill off long enough for us to get off the mountain.
Thank the Nine for the Stormcloak camp just off the road. We followed the sound of the anvil down, and soon were warming up by their fire. Once Erandur and I could feel our fingers, we went over to the tent where they kept their wounded and did as much healing as we could.
We went back to Solitude after that, and even though it wasn't mid-afternoon yet, we headed for the Winking Skeever. I wasn't freezing anymore, but I was still cold, and I wanted a nice, hot soak.
It was such a nice bath! We spent a decent amount of time in there, and had a late lunch before we left to head back to Proudspire.
We were just heading into the side garden to go in through the patio door when a group of kids playing tag ran by. That distracted us, and we didn't see Viarmo until Erandur turned around and bumped right into him!
I was right there, so I saw Viarmo's face when he recognized Erandur.
He said, "Devas?!"
Rather than call him by name, Erandur let out a just-as-shocked, "Headmaster!"
Probably a reflex, now that I think about it.
Viarmo was LIVID, and got in Erandur's face! He said he had a lot of nerve, showing his face in Solitude again.
Erandur tried to calm him down and explain that wasn't his name, but Viarmo wasn't having it. Instead, he tried to convince us to not listen to Erandur, and accused him of being in the Cult of Vaermina!
He told him to get out of Solitude and called him a "snake"! He was starting to get loud, and was in the middle of threatening to call the guards when Erandur put one hand over his heart, and the other over Viarmo's.
The blessing was enough to shut him up, and he actually staggered a bit! He was obviously confused, but he kept quiet while Erandur explained that he was a Priest of Mara, now, and that he joined the Order after he left Solitude.
Viarmo backed off, but before he could talk, we all heard a shrill voice cry out from the College courtyard, "I'd know that voice anywhere!"
If I'd known what was coming next I'd have burst out laughing watching Erandur's face go from shock to a nervous smile. An old lady (one of the teachers, judging by her clothes) came down the steps from next door, and she barked out, "Devas!" as soon as she saw Erandur.
Before we could do anything, she marched over, put her finger to his chest, and backed him into a wall!
We were too stunned to move as she called him names. "You reprobate! You trickster! Rake!" she said.
Erandur somehow managed to compose himself, and give her that same smile he used on Avrusa as he said, "A pleasure as always, Inge."
Yeah, he was laying it on THICK, but it worked!
She pouted (I'm serious! She was pouting!) and asked him why he didn't tell her he was finally coming back to Solitude? She even started primping at her hair and said that if she'd known he was going to be in town, she'd have put some effort in!
All right, what he did next, I don't think I'll ever stop laughing about because it was so over-dramatic, but at the same time it was fitting? I don't know, it was ridiculous, but it worked. Erandur took her hand and bowed. It wasn't a simple bow, either. He put one foot behind him and swept his cloak back with his other hand and everything!
He said, and I quote, because it really was a good line, "My lady, you are the epitome of grace and poise, as ever you were. You need no effort."
And THEN he did the classic "gallant hand kiss"!
The three of us couldn't move! I'm pretty sure we all looked like a flock of owls, we were just so shocked. Meanwhile, Inge was giggling like a teenage girl, and Viarmo was rolling his eyes.
He cleared his throat and said there's an official rule against that sort of thing, now!
Inge shot him A Look and reminded him that Erandur was no longer a student. He expelled him, remember?
She took her hand back and said that she still hadn't forgiven him for replacing the formal sheet music she'd selected for the state dinner with The Widow and the Daedra!
That seemed to break the spell we were under. Erandur laughed at the memory, and said that the Jarl loved it! He explained to us how Inge, "in her brilliance", scheduled the new bards (including him) to perform after the guests had a few drinks in them, so they wouldn't notice any mistakes.
The compliment did its job, and she asked what he was doing these days. She said she never thought she'd see him in armor, then winked and said that it suits him! Erandur explained that he joined the Order of Mara, and that his name is Erandur, now.
She said that suits him, too, and wanted to know how long he'd be in town. She was very happy to learn that we live next door, but Erandur cautioned that we usually weren't in. "We've very busy, in fact."
I saw her look past him and glance at Valdimar. She had a little grin on her face and said, "I see!" before she leaned in and whispered, "You always did have a type."
I'm SO GLAD I was close enough to catch that, and Erandur's blush as he muttered that no, it wasn't like that.
She brightened up and said, "Well, in that case, you know where to find me!"
This was when Viarmo cleared his throat again and reminded her that they had performances to review.
Erandur apologized for keeping them, and said that he's sure he would see them again, very soon.
Inge said she hoped so, especially since he still owed her a drink!
Erandur just laughed and waved as they walked away, then we we all ducked into the house through the cellar.
As soon as we got inside, he slumped against the door and buried his face in his scarf. I'm pretty sure he was muffling a scream and the rest of us burst out laughing.
Lydia asked what in Oblivion that was about, and Erandur said that he was trying to get her off his back! "What did it look like I was doing?" he said.
Of course, Valdimar couldn't help but quip that it looked like he was trying to get on hers!
I don't think he had the energy to be embarrassed by the remark. He just rolled his eyes and said he'd had enough of THAT, thank you very much, before stalking upstairs to get out of his armor.
We followed him, and settled in for a relaxing and educational evening in the sitting room.
I broke out the drinks while Erandur explained that he joined the Bard's College, "sort of on a whim." He was fresh out of the smuggling game, and hadn't had time to think of an alias, so he used the first name that came to mind; "Devas", after his father.
Valdimar just HAD to ask if he was the reason they had a rule against sleeping with the teachers. He was clearly very amused by the whole thing, which is good. I can't imagine what things would be like if he was the jealous type!
Erandur nearly choked on his wine as he insisted that it wasn't him, it was her! "I wasn't the only one!" he said.
That got another round of laughs out of us, and we asked him a bit more about what it was like as a student there. I know it was childish of me, but I almost snorted wine up my nose when I heard that Erandur's former teacher and occasional fling, Inge, is known as Inge Six Fingers.
The others laughed while I tried not to inhale my drink, and Valdimar asked if the rumor about her was true?
Erandur asked which one he was talking about (HA!) and Valdimar said he'd heard in the Winking Skeever that the title of "six fingers" doesn't just refer to her skill with the lute!
Erandur laughed in a way I can only describe as "wolfish", and said that she's "very good with her hands."
Lydia had been mostly quiet, as usual, but she rolled her eyes and said that after hearing about his time in the College, it was beginning to sound like there wasn't anyone in the city over the age of fifty he hadn't slept with!
Now, Erandur had had a lot of wine by that point, so I'm not sure if he was flushed from the drink or because he was embarrassed, but he said that wasn't true! "Viarmo was a one time thing!"
Now it was Valdimar's turn to nearly choke on his mead, and that got Erandur laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair! He was only joking about Viarmo, and said it to prank Valdimar.
Point goes to Erandur!
I feel like I should start keeping track of who wins their little back-and-forths. It's getting to be a bit more frequent and I think they're about even, but I'd like to know, just for fun.
Anyway, it was getting late, and I didn't want to sleep without getting everything down, so I grabbed this thing and started writing.
Erandur finished his wine (a bottle and a half - I counted) and went down to the cellar for his prayers. He was just fine on his feet, but Valdimar used his tipsy state as an excuse to follow him down. Lydia and I exchanged Looks before she offered to clean up the cups and bottles before she turned in.
It's well past nightfall now, and I'm the last one awake. Erandur was second to last, and he stopped to sit with me while he had some water before he went to bed.
He looked… Well, I couldn't put a name to it at the time, but he looks better. He caught me staring, and when I said that he looked different, he said he was relieved. Hiding from Viarmo (and Inge) was taking a toll on him, and he'd spent the entirety of his nightly prayers thanking Mara for how well the whole thing went, and how he didn't have to hide anymore.
I mean, he has a point! I know I was nervous whenever we were out and about, and even though Lydia usually has her head on a swivel, it was even worse knowing that she had a specific target. Valdimar seemed the least worried, but he did his best to keep me on track while we were out trading so that our trips would be as short as possible.
I can't imagine how Erandur must've felt!
At least it's over, and we can actually take our time to enjoy the holiday tomorrow. We don't need any healing from the Temple, but we can go in and get some blessings without having to look over our shoulders the whole time!
Elisif the Fair: Outwardly, I’m everything a well brought up girl should be.
Elisif, who is grieving for her husband, threatened by rebellion, dismissed by General Tullius, under the eye of the Thalmor, sneered at and ridiculed by half of Skyrim, and well aware of the stress she causes her steward while trying to handle her own anxieties — and the pestering Bards' College headmaster: Inside, I’m screaming.
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one headcanon i have about the bards college is that when they perform, they often wear costumes, some more elaborate than others, and some bards even have their own recognizable flair. viarmo borrows from both cyrodiilic and summerset styles in his performing costumes, for example, with elaborate golden brocades and bright red cloaks and tunics in aquamarine. bards deserve fun costumes i think
Isran (Dawnguard) and Viarmo (Bards College) are the two most powerful characters of them all, simply because they are the only ones in a leader role that doesn’t die at the end of their faction quest line (if you can even call the bards college a quest line since it’s literally fetch this book, fetch this lute, fetch this flute, fetch this drum).
The sheer power these two men possess is not to be underestimated.
