it’s gruelling grind month tiem :3
it’s gruelling grind month tiem :3
Includes: 1st person reader, OC character(s), Ohmes Raht reader, masc!reader, Vivec, other canon characters, canon environment
CW: Cursing, drinking, standard elderscrolls fantasy bigotry, Lmk if more needs to be added.
Word count: 2533
Part one/Part three
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.
“Your necklace.”
Not showing you 7th, that shit was embarrassing