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Chapter Text

A crowd gathered in the Silver-Blood Inn, eager to drink away a long day or celebrate camaraderie with fellow citizens. Nightfall had arrived and the city started to wind down. The smells of different liquors and ales commingled with sweat and stone. A few flies buzzed about lazily, their noises along with the crackling of fire added to the din and conversation of the main room as Aicantar waited at a table for the man to show up.

Aicantar met this man about a month or two ago when the latter was still running with the Guild. He wasn't too guarded or stand-offish and surprisingly honest for a thief. It made Aicantar feel like he could trust him. Aicantar sipped on his brandy. He wanted to avoid being too tipsy or incoherent when his friend came. He took a deep breath, his heartbeat increasing as he fiddled with his fingers, lips tucked around his teeth. Mercifully, it wasn't long before he saw the man push his way through the gathering citizens.

Yadharz gro Sharbak.

He was most likely half-Orc with his features. He looked too different in too many ways from a full-blooded Orsimer. His nose, to the sharpness of his cheekbones, and even the color of his eyes were abnormal in most Orsimer.

Yadharz still had the Orcish height that Aicantar had seen in other Orsimer over the years; Average stature. Aicantar still loomed over him by just under a full head. Light green skin, and tusks that were on the smaller side and polished stood out prominently. Instead of brows, he had spikes along his brow ridge. His frame was typical to that of a rogue rather than a warrior. His hair was black, long, and pulled into a braid adorned with beads. He sported various different piercings, including one in the bridge of his nose, a stud in his bottom lip, and several earrings.

Aicantar waved Yadharz over. The latter beamed, and fast walked over to the table. Aicantar got up, they clasped hands to greet one another, and the two sat down, exchanging pleasantries and ordered another drink. Yadharz wanted a brandy and took a healthy swig straight from the bottle. He sighed, refreshed, and wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand. The two spoke for a moment, exchanging pieces of gossip and sharing a laugh before Yadharz leaned back in his chair. Balanced on the back two legs, he crossed his ankles on the table.

"So, what'd you need, handsome?" Yadharz asked as he took another swig, maintaining eye contact over the bottle. Aicantar's ears flushed at the comment before he answered.

"I'd like to come with you, if that's alright." Yadharz's brow ridge creased in confusion. The Orsimer swished the brandy in his mouth thoughtfully before swallowing and licked his lips of a stray drop.

"I feel like I should say no, but I'm curious why you want to." Yadharz spoke slowly, gauging Aicantar's response.

"I don't feel like there's anything for me here anymore." His uncle paid more attention to books on people long dead and a woman he'd barely met a few years ago than his own flesh and blood and it began to take its toll on the young mer. He'd deliberated and came to the difficult decision that in order to attain any kind of happiness, he'd have to leave Markarth. Yadharz sighed and Aicantar caught the faintest shaking of his head before he argued.

"You have your uncle."

"My uncle barely knows I'm there." His voice dropped, barely audible over the gathering of conversations in the inn. Yadharz's eyes shone with sympathy. "I would just rather get out and see what's new about Skyrim. I want to help other people, not tend to research the rest of my life. Just for a little while." There was a bounty of people in Skyrim who needed help and Aicantar wanted to lend it if he could.

Yadharz pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and rapped his fingertips on the table as Aicantar watched him with his breath held. It seemed like hours before Yadharz spoke again.

"Can you fight? What spells do you know?" Yadharz took another swig.

"Oh, don't you worry. I can take care of myself and watch your back. I won't even be in your way, I swear." Aicantar rambled as Yadharz nodded. "I just want to get out of here." Aicantar hoped that the pitch he gave of himself would suffice to convince Yadharz to let him go.

Yadharz swirled the brandy inside the bottle, the liquid making a tinkling noise as it sloshed against the glass, and he took another swig. He wiped away an errant drop with his thumb's pad before looking back at Aicantar. Another moment passed before Yadharz grinned, reaching his hand across the table to shake Aicantar's hand. Aicantar met him halfway and shook Yadharz's hand with gusto, his robe's sleeve gathered around his elbow with the movement.

"Thank you. Thank you so much you won't regret this." His speech came out quickly. Breathy, almost. Aicantar couldn't stop grinning, his heartbeat racing. Yadharz laughed and returned the sentiment proposing a toast, and Aicantar took his first real drink of the night. The burn of brandy was welcome as it ran down his throat.

He was going to leave. He was going to set off and see what he could do in Skyrim. Finally. Truthfully, Aicantar could've left on his own but being on the road wasn't an option with the war in full swing. He knew better. Besides, being alone in the Keep was bad enough, let alone with nothing but Skyrim wilderness around for miles. He wanted to help. What he didn't want, was an early death. Or loneliness.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning. I'll come get you at the Keep. Be ready." Yadharz stood up and clasped Aicantar on the back, grinning down at him. He dug in his pack and placed a few septims on the table to pay for his drink before he walked back out of the inn with a wave.

Aicantar surveyed the room, finding that many had dispersed and went home or were well in their cups by the time the two men had parted ways. He finished his drink, left his payment on the table and pulled his hood up over his head. He nodded and smiled politely to the innkeepers and walked out into the streets of Markarth.

Once he'd gotten back to the keep, he set about packing his meager possessions. Ingredients, potions, mortar and pestle, and any other alchemy supplies he could reasonably fit in his pack along with other necessities. Once he was packed, he bounded over to his uncle, who was hunched over a thick, dusty tome.

"Uncle. I wanted to tell you something." Aicantar believed he should at least let his uncle know he was leaving. He didn't have such a close relationship with Calcelmo, but he'd be remiss if he didn't tell him he was setting off tomorrow.

"Hm? Yes, make it quick. I'm very busy." Calcelmo didn't even look up from the pages while he skimmed along the text with willowy fingers. Aicantar's hopeful smile faltered, but he recovered quickly, fidgeting with his fingers.

"I just wanted to let you know I was leaving tomorrow. A friend of mine said I could go with them when they leave and-"

"Yes, yes very nice have fun. I have work to do, boy." Calcelmo, still fixated on the text, waved his hand in dismissal and Aicantar's mood dropped. Crestfallen, Aicantar nodded before going to the keep's bath house. Of course, that was his response. Aicantar shouldn't have expected much at all, honestly. He sighed and disrobed, wanting nothing more than a bath before heading to bed. He undid his long platinum hair from its tie, the strands cascading down his back and framing his shoulders, straight like sword stokes. His robe pooled around his ankles as he stepped over them and into steamy water. The heat made him hiss as he adapted to the heat, slipping further into the water for a much-needed soak.

In the water, reclined against the stone steps of the bath, he looked up at the ceiling. Large, domed, and glass carved with intricate patterns. Steam filled his lungs as the droplets along with sweat formed on his brow, the smell of it heavy but comforting. He rubbed soap on his golden skin and white blonde hair as he thought of his uncle, still deeply disappointed. Aicantar shouldn't have expected his uncle to pay much attention or be very happy for him at all, honestly. He'd done this to himself time and time again and almost every instance in memory led to him feeling like this. Despite repetition garnering near identical results, he couldn't help feeling wounded.

Sliding fully into the bath, he submerged himself for a moment to wash the suds off his body. He came back up with a small gasp, wiping the excess water from his eyes with his hands and resolved to soak in the heat a while longer. His hair floated around him in the water, white blonde wisps like something from a spell.

Tomorrow was a new day. Hopefully it'd lead far enough away from the stone city and he could start a new chapter in his life. The thought brought him a smile as he absently splashed water with his fingertips. His head lolled to the side to rest against his shoulder as the heat from the water seeped into every inch of his body. He allowed himself to fantasize about what may happen while on the road, his eyes closed as the images of cities, other travelers, and action danced behind his eyelids.

It was almost an hour later when he left the bath, heat drunk and with a lazy smile on his face. Steam curled off his body while he redressed, shuffling to his quarters. Feeling utterly relaxed and in a much better mood, he turned in for the night, sleepy and eager to face the next day.

"I still don't understand what's wrong with my robes." Aicantar pouted, rubbing the fabric of the garment between his thumb and forefinger, lower lip slightly out as he looked at Yadharz, sitting across from him in the back of the cart. The latter had his ankle crossed over his knee, elbows draped off the sides of the cart. Aicantar himself sat with his arms crossed over his chest. The cart and the two of them jostled in typical fashion as their driver led them over stony roads up to Solitude. The smell of juniper became fainter as they went further from Markarth, being slowly replaced with sea water and fresher air.

"They're too loose, too ratty, and they don't suit you." Yadharz repeated far too simply, a small smirk curling his lips. "You can't sneak in them without your feet catching the hem and it's not the best style for combatting. They may have worked in the Keep, but they won't do you any favors in battle or otherwise." He stated simply. Aicantar's brow creased as he continued to pout a little. He'd had these robes for years. He studied them, trying to see what Yadharz saw. Stains were present in areas from potion mishaps and dirt colored the once pale blue hem from time in Markarth. He begrudgingly conceded that yes, they were indeed a bit ratty as he inwardly sighed.

"Maybe you have a point about them being well-worn, but they're special to me." Aicantar paused.

Calcelmo gave them to me. He almost said but decided it'd be best not to. He gnawed lightly on his cheeks, his fingers laced together to keep from fidgeting too much.

"I'm not saying throw them away. I'm saying we're getting you new ones to use on the road." Yadharz made a small waving motion with his hand as if trying to physically wave away Aicantar's concern, his smile widening. "Try not to worry yourself, alright?" Aicantar thought Yadharz could've been a little less flippant, but at least he wasn't being nasty or completely dismissive.

Aicantar nodded, lips tucked around his teeth as he tried to distract himself with looking at his surroundings.

They had left when dawn was cresting over the horizon, and by now, it was afternoon. Birdsong with the buzzing of insects and a gentle breeze was heard along with the gritty sound of the cart wheels rolling over stone. They passed under the canopy of trees, the light broken up in pieces by shadow from leaves as they went along the road. Aicantar's pack knocked over again after they hit a decent bump. He groaned in frustration and set about picking up the spilled objects.

"Why are we going to Solitude to get me new robes?" Aicantar asked between shoving things back in his pack. "I can get new ones pretty much anywhere." Yadharz breathed a laugh through his nose and Aicantar looked up at him.

"I have a friend there that does fantastic work. Besides, I have some things to drop off in Solitude anyway. Two birds, one stone." He gave a half-shrug and Aicantar nodded, shoving the pack beneath the bench, silently daring it to fall over again as he sat back upright in his seat.

They made small talk and observed the rest of the trip. Once they'd reached the incline leading up to Solitude's gates, Yadharz sat forward and Aicantar half stood to take a better look at the city from where they were. Up ahead, a Thalmor patrol spoke amicably with a Khajiit caravan. The head of the patrol exchanged septims for goods and chatted while another sat off to the side, watching the water from the sea. The third, the youngest looking, stood indignantly, arms crossed with a golden blush across his face as one Khajiit pinched his cheek with a wolfish grin on her face.

The two shared amusement at the sight before they climbed out of the cart and entered Solitude.

Aicantar immediately loved the city. He couldn't help the wide smile that stretched over his face as he lowered his hood to see everything better. The smell of perfumes and fine wine. The peals of children's laughter and people talking. Stall and business owners called out about their wares. The shade of the walls from the heat of Magnus. Up ahead, Aicantar heard the distinct clanking of someone at the forge and drills being called out from Castle Dour. He turned to look at Yadharz, who was watching him with nothing short of warm amusement.

Aicantar realized he must've been grinning like a boy again but couldn't bring himself to care.

"First time in Solitude?" Yadharz raised a brow ridge, grinning at Aicantar. Aicantar nodded enthusiastically before looking at the banners strung between buildings. He chuckled and Aicantar felt a hand on his back, gently pushing him forward. "This way, Sunshine." Yadharz urged, the smile never leaving his face or his voice. Aicantar felt his ears heat as he let himself be led to a nearby shop.

Radiant Raiment.

Aicantar could've sworn he'd heard about this place before.

Inside, the building was decidedly Altmeri in design despite the Imperial influenced exterior.

Exquisite bolts of fabric and full displays of varying fine attire made up the bulk of the shop. Banners that had to be from Summerset or High Rock adorned the walls. The smell of fine perfume and incense filled Aicantar's senses. The air was warm from a fireplace crackling nearby. Trunks filled to the brim with other garments and fabrics were off to the side along with a chair, a chandelier, and a fine rug on the floorboards. Two Altmeri women stood at the counter.

One leaned over, a goblet in her hands, eyes half-lidded with disinterest as they flicked to Aicantar and Yadharz. Aicantar admitted she was comely with her almond eyes, long blonde hair framing her face, and striking, angular features.

The other turned when the door opened and crossed the room to greet Yadharz, planting a friendly kiss on both his cheeks. He returned the favor and introduced her to Aicantar. Taarie, the second woman, was even prettier than her sister, and unmistakably friendlier. Yadharz asked for Aicantar to be fitted for robes and Taarie looked the latter over critically.

"I suppose we can do something for him." Her tone wasn't malicious, but Aicantar felt somewhat chastised for his state of dress under her scrutiny as she walked to the counter. She held a rope in her hand and nodded her head to a different part of the shop. Taarie instructed him to stand on a stool, which he did.

"If you'd kindly remove your robes please. And your shoes." Her voice was even and professional. Aicantar's face felt warm as he shucked off his robe and shoes, left in a near threadbare undershirt and breeches that had seen better days. Taarie clicked her tongue in disappointment as she measured, lifting his arms and gently coaching him to stand with feet wider apart to do her work.

Whilst measuring, Taarie instructed her sister, Endarie to fetch a spare shirt and pair of pants for Aicantar. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Yadharz had attempted to make conversation with Endarie. Taarie had taken a break to scribble down numbers in a nearby book and grabbed the garments from her sister without looking up from the pages. She gently handed them to Aicantar and told him he could have these instead of the rags he was wearing.

Aicantar felt self-conscious, but accepted graciously. He asked for privacy and was directed behind a four-panel separator to change. He dropped his sorry cotton undershirt and breeches to the floor and marveled at the feeling of the new underclothes. Charcoal fitted breeches and a white shirt that hung loosely but comfortably off his frame.
When he stepped out from the separator, Endarie picked up his discarded clothing with her thumb and forefinger, holding them at arm's length as she walked them to the fireplace and threw them in the flames without a second thought. He found his shoes and slipped them back on his feet.

Aicantar and Yadharz spoke with Taarie and Endarie about the new robes, the men explaining what they wanted, and answering questions the women spoke while Taarie took notes and nodded with each answer and comment.

Taarie told the two that it would be about a week before his custom robes would be ready. Yadharz thanked them and paid them in advance, counting out close to five hundred septims before he bid them a good evening. Aicantar shifted uncomfortably, eyes downcast. His fingers grasped at the hem of his shirt, unsure of what to do. Yadharz smiled warmly and pat his shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't worry about it." Yadharz didn't have an ounce of complaint in his voice. Aicantar gave a weak smile and tried to let the wave of guilt go before they left.

An hour passed, and they were sitting at the Winking Skeever. Yadharz had exchanged goods to an Argonian male in a nearby seat for a sizeable amount of septims. Minutes later, each were hunched over a bowl of hot crab meat soup, fresh bread, and a glass of wine.

"If you're interested, I hear some dark things are happening in Morthal." Corpulus spoke, wiping the counter with a rag, soaking up rings from bottles and drops spilled as Yadharz and Aicantar ate.

"Morthal, you say." Yadharz looked thoughtful, taking a sip of wine as he dipped his bread into the creamy broth. The sound of lute strumming and an arm wrestling match with patrons shouting bets were heard in the background as Aicantar ate. He focused on the conversation Yadharz had with Corpulus.
The two spoke about rumors the innkeeper had heard in hopes of Aicantar and Yadharz getting work. As it turns out, there was quite a lot of smaller jobs to be had in Solitude and Dragon Bridge, along with, apparently something sinister in Morthal recently.

Aicantar sopped up the remaining broth and crab flakes with his bread and bit into it, the crunch of the crust yielding to his teeth with the savory liquid. It was flavorful and something he definitely wanted to try again. He hadn't had crab or fish anything in a long time thanks to Markarth being so far from any kind of coastline.

"How long ago did you hear?" Yadharz took a gulp of his wine as Corpulus leaned over the counter, his eyes darting to make sure no one else was listening.

"Not long. Rumor has it a wizard has moved there recently, and since then, all sorts of shady business has been happening to the good people there." Corpulus's voice was low enough for just the three men to hear his voice.

Yadharz nodded and thanked Corpulus for the time and information, sliding the payment for food, drink, and rooms across the counter. Corpulus took the gold and gave each of them keys and simple directions to their rooms. Yadharz walked with Aicantar up the stairs, stopping at the doors to their rooms.

"Well, looks like first thing after your robes are done, we're headed to Morthal." Yadharz playfully elbowed Aicantar in the side, the gesture friendly and coaxed a smile from Aicantar as he hugged himself standing outside the door.

"And in the meantime?" He couldn't help but ask, his eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly.

"We get comfortable here and help out how we can." Yadharz opened his door, eye contact held with Aicantar. Yadharz's face softened. Aicantar nodded, understanding. He couldn't help but still feel guilty about the two of them being anchored to Solitude for a week, but at least it was a fine city to be stuck in.

Yadharz quickly swept his gaze over Aicantar, his smile growing before he bid Aicantar a good night, closing the door softly behind him. Aicantar blinked somewhat dumbly for a moment before he wished the same, retreating into his room for the night.

Chapter Text

The week passed smoothly, which both Aicantar and Yadharz were grateful for. From running deliveries, to helping a little boy rescue his cat from a tree, to assistance with potion-making; the week wasn't as choc-full of adventuring as Aicantar had hoped, but he wasn't complaining. In their downtime, the duo shared drinks, visited the bathhouse, and saw a crackpot 'mage' try to convince a small audience he'd turned his assistant into a chicken. The small tasks killed time while they waited for the Altmeri sisters to finish Aicantar's robes.

Later in the morning of the seventh day, the duo stood in Radiant Raiment. Yadharz slowly ate an apple as he waited, Taarie helping Aicantar don his new robes behind the four-panel separator.

Aicantar wasn't used to wearing such fine clothing. The new robes were mainly blue and dark gray, cut asymmetrically. His black breeches were visible from the slits in the robe. A fur-trimmed hood and mantle adorned his shoulders along with gloves, sleeves, and new boots that curled ever so slightly at the toe. Aicantar could feel the warm hum of Magicka enchantment woven in through the garments. The enchantments were stronger than the ones his old robes had if he weren't mistaken.

Aicantar studied his arms and looked over himself appreciatively, a large grin stretching his lips. When he stepped out from behind the separator, Yadharz gave him a low, appreciative whistle. Aicantar's face glowed with a golden blush under the unspoken compliment.

"Oh yeah, these suit you much better." Yadharz stood up and crossed the room to Aicantar, who stood in place. Yadharz looked him over, his lips curled in a small, close-mouthed smile. The two made eye contact and held it for what felt like an hour. "You clean up good for a guy cooped up in a keep all day." Aicantar felt his heartbeat quicken and his cheeks and ears grew hotter. Just when Aicantar was about to look away or try talking about something, Yadharz turned his head to Taarie and thanked her and her sister for their work. Taarie thanked him as well while Endarie was engrossed in a book, uninterested in the pleasantries. With that, the two men exited the shop, Morthal their next port of call.

The ride to Morthal was largely uneventful. The further they got away from Solitude, the further Aicantar began to sink into disappointment. A sunny, crystal clear blue sky gave way to clouds as far as the eye could see and a cold clammy dampness clung to the air. They were in marshland. The slightly mildewy, earthy scent filled the air around Aicantar, drowning out most other smells. The ride there was filled with idle chatter, the gritty symphony of wooden wheels on stone roads behind conversation the two men made.

When the duo finally reached Hjaalmarch, the sun was setting on the horizon. The clouds, still mostly gray, were washed in a brilliant orange where Masser had begun to sink into the background for the night. The wagon they had ridden into the hold stopped at a certain point on the road. The driver reasoned that he didn't want to risk journeying off the road into marshy terrain and have to come back out by himself. The driver gave the two directions from where they were, thanked them, and went on his way as Aicantar and Yadharz dismounted the carriage and went through the territory. The distant caw of a hawk, followed by the hiss of wind pushing leaves and grass beneath their feet on wet soil were the only sounds they heard as they walked to Morthal.

Aicantar felt chilly, his breath coming out in streams of steam. He didn't want to admit that he was cold out loud, especially when a look to his side told him that Yadharz was just fine. He wondered if Yadharz had some kind of Nord blood in him to protect against the cold, but reasoned he'd probably be taller if he did. The thought brought a small smile to Aicantar's face.

The small town sat in the middle of cold waters. Ice and wet snow littered the ground. A faint tinkling hum of nirnroot registered in Aicantar's senses. While it was almost nightfall, it didn't stop some town children from running about, playing tag from the looks of it. Deathbell were abundant here. Dry marsh grass clawed its way from the cold ground and grew everywhere in the area. The settlement had a bleak air to it, almost disconsolate. If it weren't for the children and people gathering outside what could only be assumed as the Jarl's residence, Aicantar would assume a sickness had settled into the people here.

The people gathered outside the Jarl's hall were bickering with a man standing on the steps of the building, demanding answers from what Aicantar could tell. Yadharz shot him a look and the two silently filtered in with the people there, hoping to gather information.

"Morthal has enough problems as it is without that damned wizard here!"

"Idgrod owes us answers!"

"We've no need for wizards in our midst!"

"Something needs to be done!"

Several people cluttering the doorstep of the hall shouted. The man hearing their complaints, to his credit, heard everything and never yelled or raised his voice. The man was of older middle age, and beleaguered by the citizens. He looked tired and worn and like he wanted nothing more than to retreat inside and to not deal with anyone out here anymore, but dealt with the complaints anyway.

"How are we supposed to feel safe in our own homes?" One man asked, his voice rising above the others. Several people agreed to his statement, with "Yeah"s and other agreements being uttered through the group. The man on the steps to Highmoon Hall sighed, his mouth in a thin line before he responded. Aicantar frowned, his eyes darting to the side to catch Yadharz, arms crossed, brow ridge furrowed as he observed the spectacle.

"Please, enough already! I have told Idgrod of your concerns. She'll look after you. Please, go back to your business." The man pleaded, his eyebrows scrunched with stress, his hands out in front of him, either to attempt to placate the citizens or to protect himself in case anyone charged him.

Aicantar began to worry for the safety of this poor man trying to reign in the people here. He could calm them down if it got too hairy, but it would drain every bit of his magic for a group of people this big.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the man had managed to disperse the angry gathering mob on his doorstep. Although, it was more out of the mob deciding it wasn't worth their breath anymore, rather than being satisfied with the answers given. The man that had been standing on the steps had immediately turned heel and gone back inside. By the time the argument had cleared, Magnus had sunken completely behind the horizon for its nightly slumber.

"Well, looks like a wizard problem, alright." Yadharz idly kicked at a pebble, his arms still crossed over his chest. Aicantar chewed on his lip, looking around the town once more.

"I'm not so sure it's just that. Maybe we should ask around." He suggested. Yadharz offered a half shrug.

"Can't hurt." Yadharz conceded. He lifted his chin, nodding ahead to the hall. "We can start with the guy that was trying to calm everyone out here. He was out here for a reason,
right?" Aicantar offered him a small smile as he nodded.

"You read my mind. Hope the poor man is alright. He seemed distressed."
Yadharz grinned, nudging Aicantar playfully with his elbow, his arms relaxing at his sides.

"Aw. Look at you, all concerned for the guy." Yadharz teased, and Aicantar felt his cheeks flush with heat, stark against the cold air of the marsh. "Relax. It's sweet." Yadharz clapped Aicantar's shoulder before he strode forward, leading the way into the hall.

Inside, the air was immediately warm, and the relief seemed to seep into Aicantar's bones as he sighed, happy that he could no longer see the puffs of steam from his breath. He rubbed his gloved hands together, hoping the heat would help him articulate his fingers normally again. The hearth crackled as warm orange tongues from the flame lapped at the air. Arrhythmic footsteps clapped against wooden floorboards from other rooms as people, most likely guards, milled about. At the head of the room, a woman, also late-middle-aged, sat upon a simple throne, while the man from before was almost knelt, holding her hand, his face creased with worry. Jaded, frustrated, and resigned.
The woman looked up at this man, concern written in her features as she placed a hand on his cheek, which he covered with his own, turning his head ever so slightly to place a kiss to her palm.

"Just guide them well, and all will work out." The man's voice was soft and reflected just how weary he was. The woman returned his statement with a small, gentle smile.

"I have never doubted that, husband." She replied. "Now, cheer up. We have important company." She spoke, turning her head to Aicantar and Yadharz. The man's eyes closed, a dejected sigh escaping his lips before he looked at the two of them.

"If this is a bad time-" Aicantar began to speak before he was interrupted.

"If you've business with the Jarl, I'd ask that you speak to me first." His voice changed. He was much more authoritative and it seemed like almost all the exhaustion had left him as he regarded Aicantar and Yadharz with suspicion. Understandable, given what they'd seen as they walked into town. His confidence was more apparent here as well, perhaps because outside he was unarmed and by himself. Inside, he was surrounded by people who would lay down their life for the Jarl if someone yelled for help.

"Aslfur, let them speak. Not everyone is so bloodthirsty. Or frightened." The woman assured, turning her gaze to the man, Aslfur for a moment before training her gaze back on the two other men. "They're new here. Show them some kindness." Aslfur, looking somewhat chastised, stepped forward and bowed to the two men slightly.

"Apologies, gentlemen. Too many bother my wife with their petty problems, and then don't even understand the advice she gives them. Everyone's been so on edge lately." Husband and wife shared a knowing look between themselves as Aicantar and Yadharz looked on. Aicantar opened his mouth to speak.

"Speaking of problems," Yadharz began, inspecting a spot on the wall, scraping at it with his fingernail, ignoring the looks he was given, amused or otherwise. "It seems like you had your hands full out there." Yadharz commented, preoccupied with whatever he was scraping off the walls, now underneath his nail. No one responded for a moment as Yadharz tried in vain to flick whatever it was from beneath his nail before he grunted in frustration and wiped it off on his pant leg. He then turned to the couple at the front of the room as if nothing happened. Aicantar's body shook with repressed laughter. No one else seemed to be laughing other than himself. At least the Jarl herself looked somewhat amused by Yadharz's actions.

"Ah, you...saw that, did you?" Aslfur responded slowly, moving past Yadharz's apparent lack of etiquette, his eyes trained on the Orsimer, who, to his credit, paid no mind to the extra attention.

"It was hard not to." Yadharz said. "A group of angry people gathering on a doorstep as soon as you enter town? To say it was eyebrow-raising would be an understatement." He continued. Aicantar stood silently, fingers tapping against one another. He should say something. Maybe he could help in some way?

"We'd like to help if we can." Yadharz said. Ah... Well, so much for Aicantar speaking up. He decided to keep his mouth shut and let the conversation run its course. He'd thank the couple for letting them in when they left.

"There's a list of things that need tending to here, my dear." The Jarl spoke, her voice even and firm but not without an air of kindness. She shook her head as she spoke, as if recalling all of her subject's problems at once. "The most recent of which was the tragedy with Hroggar's family. The burned house in town is what's left of the whole ordeal."

Aicantar and Yadharz both frowned. "Burned house?" They asked simultaneously.

"Ah, very new indeed." She mused, leaning back in her throne, her chin resting on her knuckles, elbow propped on the arm of the seat.

Jarl Idgrod explained what had happened with Hroggar's family and by the time it was all out in the open, Aicantar's heart ached. Those poor people. Apparently, once a very beautiful young woman had moved into town, Hroggar had begun to spend time with her. Not long after, the man's house went up in flames with his wife and little girl inside. They had perished in the fire and not even days later, Hroggar had pledged himself to this woman. Alva. That poor little girl... Aicantar wanted more than anything at that moment to get to the bottom of things. He didn't want that poor family's death to be unsolved.

It was also quite clear that Yadharz had been angered by this. Throughout the story, Aicantar caught glimpses of Yadharz, who stood, arms crossed, his jaw set firmly like stone. With the light of the fire reflected in his eyes, the amber-hued irises seemed alight. It gave him a feral appearance with the anger he saw contained within.
"I suggest going right to the source. Turn over the ash that no one else dare to touch and see what answers lie beneath." Idgrod said. Aicantar and Yadharz exchanged looks before they agreed, thanking the Jarl and her husband for their hospitality and leaving the hall.

It was late in the night when the two men left the hall. The air seemed much colder than when they'd gone inside earlier. Yadharz led the way down the steps of the hall, looking to torches around the small town to guide them to the inn, his foot tapping impatiently at the ground. Aicantar immediately felt his teeth chatter from the cold nip in the air.

"Do you want to look right now, or do you want to call it a night?" Aicantar asked, displeased that his breath came out in warm, heavy plumes of steam.

"Of course I want to look now. The sooner the better right?" Yadharz stated. Aicantar nodded, walking up to Yadharz, waiting for him to lead the way. Yadharz instead crossed his arms over his chest and blew a long sigh out through puckered lips like a horse and then turned to Aicantar, brow ridge raised. "What do you think we should do?"

Aicantar sputtered, unsure with how to respond until he dumbly choked out something like "You're asking my opinion?"

"Well, yeah." Yadharz said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Aicantar chuckled uneasily, but couldn't help the smile that stretched his face.

"Forgive me, I'm just not used to people asking for my input." He replied, fidgeting with the hem of his glove. "I also thought you were pretty angry and would want to tackle this as quickly as we could." Yadharz seemed to relax a little, his arms falling to his side as he looked at Aicantar.

"Yeah I'm angry, but your opinion matters here. If we're going to be doing this, you need to tell me how you think we should approach this." Yadharz said.
Aicantar took a minute to take this in. Back home, whenever he tried to offer his uncle his opinion, it was either ignored completely or he was told to be quiet. It was a fairly common occurrence with people outside the keep as well, so eventually, Aicantar tried to get comfortable with keeping his opinions to himself.

"You're the one with more adventuring experience. Do you think it's best to do this now?" Aicantar asked. Yadharz's face fell, almost unimpressed before he chuckled and shook his head.

"You're the one with most book learning, but fine, I'll go first." Yadharz commented. "If you want my opinion, I believe it's best to get it done and out of the way as quick as possible. Plus, it'll be less likely for someone to see us this late at night and start trouble." He paused, scrubbing his cheek and chin with his hand in thought. "However, it's also entirely common for things like this to snowball. So, if we do go on with this now, there's a good chance that sleep will be a lower priority for a while." Yadharz finished by giving a half-hearted playful shove to Aicantar's shoulder.

"Now, what do you think we should do?" He repeated. Aicantar hummed, gnawing on his lip and fidgeting with his fingers as he contemplated how to approach this. Thankfully, it didn't take long to think of something.

"Okay, how about this. We can sleep for a little while and wake up at the earliest part of dawn, right when Magnus is starting to rise. It'll give us some time to sleep at least, and it'll still be early enough for most people here to still be asleep. And, there's more light to see with."
Yadharz nodded, brow furrowed in thought. "I like that. Sounds good to me as long as we can get up."

"Oh, we could ask whoever's looking after the inn to wake us up." Aicantar responded quickly, excitement in his voice. Someone was hearing him out for once. Yadharz laughed, the sound breathy and easy.

"Look at you. I love it when a guy can think on his feet." He looked up to the sky, directly at the moons and muttered something to himself, eyes drifting closed for a moment before he opened them again, completely missing the golden blush on Aicantar's cheeks and ears at the compliment. Aicantar wasn't sure if Yadharz was flirting this time or if it were a genuine compliment, but he was happy that someone was listening to him nonetheless. He felt flattered.

"If I'm not mistaken, that means we'd have about five hours to sleep if we passed out right here right now, so let's get ourselves somewhere to sleep and make the most of it." Yadharz said as he began walking down the wooden dock-like pathways through the town trying to find the inn again.
Aicantar followed him along the pathways, their feet crunching down on wet snow and ice trying to find shelter for the night. Thank the Eight that the inn happened to be very nearby the hall.

Unfortunately, it was also very close by some heavily burnt ruins of what had to be Hroggar's old house. The pair stopped dead in their tracks and took in the sight.
Dark and derelict, the house stood out even against the rest of the dreariness that Morthal exuded from the moment they stepped foot there. Wooden beams were charred, splintered and cracked. Ash mixed with snow on the ground. The fireplace, the source of the tragedy was open and cold, not a flicker of flame in its maw as it seemed to stare both men in the pits of their souls. The night was ghost-quiet, the only sounds were their breathing along with the small scraping sounds of dry grass being pushed against buildings with the night breeze. Aicantar swallowed hard and it was Yadharz who broke the building's trance over them.

"Come on, I'm freezing my ass off out here." Yadharz prompted, opening the door to the Moorside Inn for Aicantar to slip past first.

Just like with the hall, the air inside the inn was very warm and welcome. The fire crackled and gave the inn an orange glow. An Orsimer man plucked at a lute in the corner, happy as can be, humming to himself before taking a break to yawn. The innkeeper was a Redguard woman, curvy and slightly round with soft and beautiful features as she busied herself with cleaning a table nearby. Yadharz paid for the room and kindly asked the woman to wake them up at the crack of dawn. The woman was confused, but agreed to it nonetheless.

"Hope you're fine with sharing a room tonight. Fixin' something wrong with one of my beds, so I only got one for the two of you. Sorry if that's a problem." She explained, and to her credit, looked genuinely sorry for the inconvenience. She walked the pair to their room. It lacked a door but had modest and very cozy furnishings. A small alchemy station was set up at the archway and the bed was a thin cot covered in plush bear pelts for blankets. A chest was nearby for their belongings, but not much else was in the room. Aicantar wondered who was going to get the bed.

"This is more than enough. Thank you." Aicantar accepted graciously, offering her a smile, which she returned. She told the two men to let her know if they needed anything else and went back to her job. Aicantar stared at the bed somewhat uncomfortably for a moment before he looked to Yadharz.

"You can have the bed if you want." Yadharz yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Aicantar yawned as well, shaking his head before he responded.

"Why don't you take it?"

"Because I'm a big boy and I can sleep on the floor in my bedroll." Yadharz joked, flashing a grin to Aicantar, who returned the gesture with a tired smile.

"You don't have to though. We can share-" Aicantar trailed off, hearing what he was suggesting, his cheeks impossibly hot. He cursed himself. It was far too easy for him to turn gold with embarrassment, and he couldn't believe he suggested this. Yadharz, beside him, chuckled with what sounded like surprise.

"Aicantar," Yadharz spoke with mock incredulity. He put his hand to his chest, eyes wide in false shock. "I didn't think you had it in you to ask someone into bed with you a week after meeting them." He teased. Aicantar sputtered, and he felt the heat of his blush spread to his ears and all over his face, threatening to move past his jawline. Oblivion take him, he must've looked ridiculous. Yadharz laughed, his eyes sparkling with merriment. Either he was enjoying Aicantar's horror or he was blissfully oblivious to it entirely.

"Now wait a minute that's not what-" Aicantar tried to defend himself.

"Relax I know that's not what you meant. You don't seem like the type to want to sully my virtue." Yadharz rolled his eyes, his signature easygoing grin still ever-present on his face. He walked to the bed and fixed the furs so they were a bit more straightened out. Once he was done, he unceremoniously plopped himself down on the cot, kicking his legs out in front of him with the motion before he leaned down to undo the straps for his boots. Aicantar slowly undid his robe and boots, left in his undershirt and breeches. He folded them neatly and set them on the chest while Yadharz haphazardly kicked off his boots and his mail.

It wasn't long before Yadharz was barefoot, left in his breeches, and a threadbare cotton shirt that may have been white at one point, but was now a motley of yellows and light browns from permanent dirt and possibly bloodstains. Aicantar frowned. Why didn't he get himself something from Radiant Raiment? Surely the two sisters would've given him something if he asked.

Aicantar awkwardly rubbed the collar of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger, sitting on the opposite edge of the bed. Behind him, he heard Yadharz sigh.

"If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry." Aicantar turned to look at Yadharz, who looked at him over his shoulder, still smiling but the mirth didn't quite reach his eyes anymore. He looked guilty.

"No, it's not that. Just not used to banter like that, that's all."

"Right. I should've known not to take it that far. Other friends of mine are a bit rough around the edges, or just as saucy. I keep forgetting not everyone shares that sense of humor, so if I made you uncomfortable, I apologize." Aicantar offered Yadharz a smile, turning around a bit more to look at him better.

"No need. I just need to get used to it is all." Yadharz narrowed his eyes a bit, some of that humor returning to his features as his grin widened.

"Alright. But tell me if I do, alright? Don't hesitate. I don't want to be that guy." Aicantar let out a breath of laughter.

"I will." He promised. Yadharz turned back around and laid down, his back facing Aicantar.

"Come on. We need all the sleep we can get." Yadharz prompted, his voice friendly and tired as he shifted trying to make himself comfortable on the thin mattress.
Aicantar silently complied, laying down with his back to Yadharz. His hands were folded under his cheek like a second pillow as he closed his eyes, determined to catch as much of those precious few hours of sleep they could get tonight. The morning light would reveal the ugly truths to this mystery, he was sure.