FSE

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Chimerical

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode 9: True Friends

As the sun peaks over the horizon, the birds begin to chirp and call. A sleeping Veera opens her eyes, slowly looking over the room. She purrs as she feels the arms of her lover around her body, tucked beneath her breasts and holding her close. She strokes his arm softly as she feels her body pressed against his, her back resting against his chest. She turns her head, looking over her shoulder at Ra’kanishu, grinning as she gazes. She had never experienced such pleasure as she had last night.

The Imperial opens his eyes, looking at the side of the Suthay-Raht’s head, an eye turned to him. He leans in, kissing the side of her snout before nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She purrs at his every touch. They lie together in bed for quite a while, until the sky turns a light blue, having finally accepted all of the sun’s rays. The couple reluctantly climb out of their bed. Nish looks around for his clothes, standing up to collect them from the middle of the floor. He stops and turns when Veera doesn’t follow him.

He turns to see the nude Khajiit looking at him, grinning as she glances over his body. Purely on impulse, Nish does the very same. He looks over her firm but supple body, admiring her from the tips of her ears, and down to the claws on her paw-like feet. She stands from the bed, her claws clicking on the wooden floor as she walks toward him. She wraps her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss him as her tail sways. He rests his hands on her hips, feeling her soft fur running between his fingers.

“I have never experienced anything like that.” She grins.

“Well, to be fair, you haven’t had many experiences at all.” Nish chuckles.

“True, but I still know my body. You seemed to know it as well as I. You are something special.” She coos.

“So are you. You knew just what to do to me.” He winks.

“I’ve had quite a lot of practice.” She winks back.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door. Fjorn calls through the wooden barrier, reminding them that they need to leave. Cyrodiil isn’t getting any closer as they stand there in their room. Nish tells him to wait for them near the main desk, before quickly kissing his Khajiiti lover and retrieving his clothes. He slips on his black pants and orange tunic, looking over as the girl wears her own tattered clothes. He frowns, looking down at her bare feet.

“What is the matter?” She asks.

“We’ll need to get you some new clothes as soon as we get into Cyrodiil. You’ll be amazed at the selections. My treat, of course.” Nish replies.

“You are too kind to me…” She remarks almost remorsefully.

He steps up to the girl as he attaches his belt of weapons.

“Then perhaps I shouldn’t give you this?” He grins.

He holds out the sheathed Argonian dagger, an older leather belt already strung through it. She looks down at the weapon as he presents it to her, sheepishly taking the blade from his hands.

“The belt used to be mine, before I found my axe; it couldn’t take the added weight, so I replaced it. We can purchase a new one for you if you don’t want it.” He says apologetically.

“It’s fine. I appreciate this… Truly.” She replies.

She embraces the Imperial, holding him tightly for a moment. She feels so comforting, her warm body and soft fur pressed against him. Even the sound of her breathing soothes him. He suddenly remembers the golden moonstone band and feels guilty. As they end their embrace, she kisses his cheek. She strokes his face softly with her claws. He puts on his pack and walks for the door, Veera following closely behind. He opens the door and turns to look back at her. She smiles at him, but over her shoulder he can see an unused bed.

“Do you think I should mess up that bed?” He asks.

“Why?” She wonders.

“For appearances, I suppose…”

“Does that really matter to you?” She asks.

“Of course not. I just thought it might to you though.” He answers.

“It doesn’t.” She coos.

Smiling, he silently chuckles and walks out of the room. They find Jo’dehki and Fjorn at the front desk, their key already on the table. Nish tosses his key beside it, before motioning to his two large companions. They leave the inn and continue to the edge of the city. As they approach the main road to Cyrodiil, they find an older Imperial man with a large cart, offering rides into the province for a nominal fee. Eager to be rid of Morrowind, and with the drakes to spare, they purchase a one-way ride into Cheydinhal. They climb into the cart, Ra’kanishu and Veera on one side, while Fjorn and Jo’dehki are on the other.

“You’re a Cathay-Raht, aren’t you?” The driver asks Jo’dehki.

“Indeed, this one is a Cathay-Raht. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen a Khajiit that can look a Nord in the eyes, and not crane their neck.” The driver laughs. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch with one of them?” He motions his head to Nish and Veera.

“Why would he want to do that?” Nish asks.

“To balance out the cart. There’s an awful lot of muscle on one side.” The driver remarks.

“We’re fine right here…” Nish replies.

Veera takes hold of his hand, smiling as he answers the cart driver.

“As you wish…” The old driver grumbles.

They sit and watch the scenery as the driver quickly brings the horses to a considerable pace. Their gait is much quicker than any of them could run, and the horses maintain it without strain. In short order, the Morrowind border passes them by. The elation on Veera’s face warms Nish’s heart. She rests her head on his shoulder, unable to stop smiling as the border becomes farther and farther away. He gently pets her hair with his fingertips.

“You’re finally free now.” He says softly to her.

Soon, he takes out the unfinished obsidian spearheads and the sharpening rock, gently forming them. It keeps his mind occupied during the trip. After a long and uneventful ride in the cart, they see the city of Cheydinhal in the distance. Veera squeezes Nish’s hand tightly as the stone structures come into view. Soon, the cart comes to a stop just outside of the city. The passengers leap off the wooden wagon as the daylight wanes. They walk through the city and head for an inn where Fjorn and Nish had stayed, on their way into Morrowind. As the band walks toward the inn, Nish stops. He’s frozen in front of a store, looking into the window.

“What is it?” Fjorn asks as he turns back.

Nish turns back to Veera, looking over her rather worn and tattered slave clothes.

“Nothing. Go on ahead and get a few rooms. We’ll catch up with you.” Nish replies.

“We?” Veera asks.

Nish merely smiles. Fjorn shrugs his shoulders, motioning with a hand to Jo’dehki, urging him to follow. The Nord and his large Khajiit associate continue to the inn, leaving Nish and Veera standing in front of the store. As it is still open, he grabs the door handle and pulls. He holds the door for her, allowing her to enter first. She seems rather nervous, almost afraid, as she steps over the threshold. She is quickly greeted by an older, heavyset Imperial woman, with a rather surprised look on her face.

“Hello, miss.” The woman begins.

“Hi.” Veera sheepishly waves.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’d like to purchase some more appropriate clothes for my lovely companion.” Nish begins.

“Yes, I see. Well, you’ve come to the right tailor! I’ve worked with several Khajiit before, of various breeds. Right this way!” The woman chirps.

Veera shifts, standing partially behind Nish as the woman reaches out for her. She looks up to Nish, who smiles and nods with approval. The woman takes her by the hand and leads her away. Nish sighs and prepares for the long wait. He takes a seat by the front counter, tapping his fingers on his knees as he sits patiently. He looks outside, seeing people walking by the shop as the night creeps in. He struggles to control his boredom. He leans back and looks at the ceiling. His thoughts dart about, like a rabid skeever.

He reaches into a hidden pocket sewn into his tunic, taking out the golden band bearing the moonstone. He looks over the small ring dejectedly. He holds it between his fingers and turns it, wondering about the woman for whom it was intended. After a moment, he reaches back into the same pocket and retrieves the golden amulet with small inlaid rubies. He looks over the bejeweled article, his heart weighing heavy. He briefly wonders if his travels throughout Tamriel were a mistake. He clenches his fist tightly over the jewelry.

“Nish!” Veera calls out.

He looks up at his Khajiiti companion, setting his clenched fists onto his lap. He smiles, looking Veera over. He immediately and silently recants his previous thoughts. She grins wide, wearing a lovely golden tunic with matching breeches and a chocolate brown leather jerkin, with a diamond pattern imbedded in the hide. The outfit is snug on her slender body, leaving little to the imagination. She spins around, her tail swishing through the air and brushing the amused tailor’s face.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Veera quickly apologizes.

“It’s quite alright, dear. This is some of my finest work… At first, I wanted to try something dressy! A gown won’t due, though, not after she told me how much traveling you have been doing.” The plump woman speaks.

“It’s… … Something.” Nish remarks.

“Do you really like it?” Veera asks.

“Oh yes… Did it suddenly become warm in here?” He asks.

He tucks a finger underneath the neck of his tunic, pulling it away. Veera grins happily as the tailor chuckles. She leads Veera back to her work station to make final adjustments. As soon as the women depart, he slips the jewelry back into his hidden tunic pocket. He stands, leaning over the front counter as he sets his coin purse atop it. After a few moments, the women return. He pays the tailor the well-earned drakes from his exceptionally heavy coin purse. Veera hugs Nish, nuzzling his neck with her snout. He chuckles, petting her cheek with his fingers. The tailor smiles at their brief display.

They leave the store as the tailor closes up for the night. They walk through Cheydinhal and soon approach the inn. Nish knows exactly where to go. Entering, they see a rather packed hall. Amongst the crowd two different hands wave them over; Fjorn and Jo’dehki motion to them from across the room. They walk through the hall, attracting the attention of several patrons. Everyone seems to notice the well dressed Khajiit and her human companion.

Veera seems quite surprised by the occasional whistle as she passes the men. She isn’t used to being noticed. Nish leads her towards the table where their companions await. A man stands, quickly moving between her and Nish. He begins to speak, but Nish turns to him. He grabs the man’s shoulder quite firmly, gaining his attention. The interloper spins around, quickly raising his voice, but stops mid-syllable when he sees a hand glowing with a deep orange flame mere inches from his nose. Thoroughly intimidated, he quickly apologizes and sits down.

“I apologize for that. You may experience quite a bit of that in your outfit.” Nish says to her.

She’s quite flattered by his chivalrousness. The pair sit with their comrades. Fjorn raises a single eyebrow, as though surprised. Jo’dehki looks Veera over quickly but continues to glare. Veera looks curiously around the hall. Fjorn and Jo’dehki had already eaten, but motion for one of the inn’s employees to approach. Nish and Veera place their own orders. The Nord and Khajiit had also managed to secure two rooms for the group, despite the large crowd within.

“Here you go.” Fjorn slides a key to Nish. “I’m going to assume that you and Veera will be sleeping together.” He chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She glares.

“I meant in the same room, of course.” He quips.

“I suppose, since you only secured two rooms… Of course, I could always sleep out in the dining hall.” Nish smiles at Veera.

“I wouldn’t make you do such a thing.” She grins, bearing her teeth.

Nish chuckles, then suddenly excuses himself. He reaches out, taking her staff from her.

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“To put our things away. This pack is quite heavy.” He replies.

He disappears down a hall for a moment. Veera sits with Fjorn and Jo’dehki, enduring a rather uncomfortable silence. Nish returns around the same time as their food is brought out to their table. He sits beside her; his pack and their weapons are no longer on his person. He becomes comfortable in the chair, smiling pleasantly at her as she looks him over.

“What?” He asks.

“You were gone a while.” She says softly.

“I’m sorry. Did you miss me?” He teases.

She grins faintly and turns to her food. They eat in relative quiet, speaking occasionally on their prospects, now that they have left Morrowind. The crowd within the hall begins to disperse. Many of the patrons are merely dinning there, while some return to rooms down the hall. Soon, even they are ready to bed down for the night. Nish leaves the table and approaches the front desk, paying for his and Veera’s dinner. The four travelers walk down the hall, saying a brief goodnight to each other. Fjorn and Jo’dehki enter their room.

The couple enter their own room, where Nish’s pack and weapons and Veera’s staff sit on a bed. Nish walks over to the nightstand between the two beds and places his coin purse atop it. He stretches out his arms and groans as his body feels worn and heavy. He turns back to Veera, who looks at him intently.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do; I can take the other bed and move my things to the floor, if that makes you comfortable.” Nish assures her.

She silently nods her head. Nish isn’t quite sure what she means, but assumes that she doesn’t want to sleep beside him. Although somewhat disappointed, he complies. He takes his pack and looks for a convenient spot to place it, looking around the room. He collects his belt of weapons in the other hand and walks them across the room, resting them atop a table in the far corner, and setting his pack underneath it. A small window sits a few meters away, near the foot of his bed. He walks over to it and looks outside, taking in the humble view.

“Too bad we can’t see the fields. They’re beautiful in the morning.” Nish thinks aloud. “That’s right, you’ve never seen them bef-”

He groans as he is suddenly interrupted by a sharp pain. Veera slams her staff into the back of his knee. He drops to the floor, grabbing onto the windowsill to steady himself. Veera brings her staff down onto his arms at his inner elbows. The blow to his veins makes his arms tingle painfully, as they’re torn from the windowsill by the force of the strike. She reaches over his head with the staff, pulling hard against his throat. Nish is terribly confused, struggling to grab for the staff with his weak hands.

He gasps when he feels a horrendous pain. He coughs as blood seeps from his mouth. His left lung is punctured by the blade of his own dagger, which sits between his ribs and protrudes from his back. He struggles to breath as his lung collapses, the metal is so cold that it burns. He feels his hot blood as it seeps over the blade of the very knife he had given to Veera. He can’t understand why she has suddenly turned on him. His arms fall limp and blood fills his lung. His vision begins to cloud; tiny dots of black slowly appear before him, ever increasing in number.

Veera yanks the blade from his back, letting the blood run free. The pain is indescribable. She walks over to the nightstand between the beds, dropping Nish onto the floor with a loud thud. His head strikes the wooden boards beneath him. It’s pleasant by comparison to what he’s currently feeling. He wheezes as he struggles to remain calm. Veera walks over to Nish, kneeling beside him as she wipes his blood off the blade, sliding it against his tunic.

“W-wh…” He chokes out.

“Why?” She asks.

Nish slowly and weakly nods.

“I’m sorry. I truly am. When we first met and you let me escape without returning what I had stolen, I assumed you were being kind. When we met again and you pretended that I was your slave, just to keep me from being returned to my masters, I realized that you were terribly naïve, and quite gullible. I knew that I could get what I wanted from you, so I did. I do feel terrible though, sincerely; someone as simple as yourself shouldn’t be cheated.” She explains calmly.

“Then… Wh… Do it?” He slowly asks, between gasps.

“I admit, I couldn’t help myself when we mated; that’s what did you in. After that, I didn’t believe that you would just let me go. I didn’t want another master.” She answers.

Nish struggles to breathe, but musters all of his strength to respond to her.

“I’m not… Your old masters… I trust you… I care about you… Not only would I have… Let you go… If you really wanted… I would have given you… A considerable number… Of drakes too… What kind of… Bastard… Do you… Take me for?” He asks her.

“What about those bandits? You slashed an unarmed man’s throat.” She reminds him.

“They made their bed… They would… Have raped you… I helped you… For the third time…” Nish chokes out.

“If that is true, and you would have let me go with your drakes, then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought… Maybe I should have just asked…” She thinks aloud.

“So… Was calling me… ‘Your kind’… Some sort of… Pillow talk?” He asks.

“You’re an Imperial. You will always be an Imperial. You grew up in Elsweyr with a Khajiit family, you speak Ta’agra as well as any Khajiit, and you hurt at the sight of us in chains, but you don’t have a tail, claws, whiskers or fur. What else would it have been?” She answers.

“Your right… You spoke of… Having a heart… But regardless… Of race… I don’t think… That you truly… Know what that’s like.” Nish croaks.

“Oh please… Spare me your sermon.” She retorts.

He looks up at her, his eyes half closed. She looks down at him. Her face is blank and expressionless. She sweeps her eyes over his body one final time as she suddenly frowns.

“I’d like you to know something… I mated with you because I truly find you attractive, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to experience you, and I didn’t want you to die without ever experiencing me.” She says softly.

“How thoughtful… Of you.” Nish chuckles as blood spills out of his mouth and slides down his cheek.

“You know… You were surprisingly good at it… Had we mated more than once, I may not have been able to do what I did. You would have been too fun to let go.” She grins.

“Now I wish… I had… Seduced you earlier.” He grins.

Veera looks shocked as Nish jests, even in his condition. The expression on her face speaks volumes; she’s starting to genuinely feel remorseful for what she has done to him. She rises to her feet and holds the coin purse. She raises a brow when she feels how light it is. She glances back down at him.

“Exactly how… Gullible do you… Think I am? I would have… Brought out… My drakes… Had you asked me…” He weakly speaks.

“Brought out?” Her eyes widen.

“… Always hide… Your money…”

He closes his eyes, quickly fading. She checks the coin purse, realizing that it only has about one-hundred drakes in it. It is short by nearly two-thousand. She growls in anger, kneeling down and gripping his throat with her hand. She squeezes tightly as he slowly opens his eyes.

“Where are they?!” She demands loudly.

“You’re not Veera… Anymore… You’re… Daro’veera now… That means… ‘Lithe of tongue’.” He grins.

“Heh… How fitting. I think I like it.” She smirks. “Now where are the drakes?” She sternly reiterates.

She looks up to the door as someone pounds on the other side. The unseen being tries to open it, but it is locked. Daro’veera quickly rises to her feet and moves for the window. Opening it, she quickly but quietly slips out. She leaves the window open as she darts off into the darkness, a cool breeze blowing in. The pounding grows louder.

“Nish?! Are you alright?” Jo’dehki calls out to him.

“We heard shouting!” Fjorn adds.

Ra’kanishu struggles to call out, reaching for the door. His hand falls against the floor as his vision is almost entirely blocked by the horde of little black dots. The door suddenly thuds as his comrades repeatedly bash into the door, taking turns as they kick and slam the barrier with their shoulders. It soon gives way, flying open as though blown by a powerful storm. He hears feet stomping and shuffling as he slips into unconsciousness. He briefly comes too, now lying on a face down. Fjorn leans over him as he sees Jo’dehki’s legs and feet, nervously pacing between the beds.

“This one is going to skin that little wench alive.” Jo’dehki grumbles as he walks back and forth.

Nish soon fades away again. He dreams peacefully at first, but they soon morph into terrible nightmares. He dreams of his parents, his siblings, and of another, all crying over his loss. He lies buried underneath their feet as the worms attack him. He is held down by the compacted earth as they feast on his flesh, unable to fight them off. Several worms burrow into his chest, touching his heart, which screams in pain. He suddenly wakes up, sweat beading on his forehead as Fjorn dabs his head with a damp cloth.

“Where…” He chokes out.

He coughs as he tries to speak. Fjorn holds up a hand.

“Try not to talk too much. You’re still healing.” He urges the Imperial.

Jo’dehki enters the room, eager to see Nish. He remains disappointed, however, as Ra’kanishu soon slips back into unconsciousness.

“How long do you think he will be out, this time?” Jo’dehki asks.

“That’s hard to say. My magic was barely able to restore his lung, let alone the rest of his body. If we hadn’t paid for that healer from the Mage’s Guild, he’d probably be dead right now…” Fjorn replies.

After what seems like mere moments, Nish opens his eyes again. Jo’dehki sits on a stool beside his bed. The large Khajiit’s arms are folded underneath his head as he sleeps, slouched over. Unsure if he is awake or dreaming, Nish reaches out, resting a hand on Jo’dehki’s head. The Cathay-Raht opens his eyes, sitting up and grinning wide at the Imperial.

“It is good to see you awake, my friend. You’re feeling better now, yes?” Jo’dehki asks.

“How long have I been asleep?” Nish groans.

“Several days. Five, to be exact.” Jo’dehki answers.

“That’s why I’m so hungry…” Nish chuckles.

“That is good.” The Khajiit nods.

Fjorn enters the room, quickly sitting on the bed beside Nish.

“How are you feeling? Are you in much pain?” He asks.

“My back and lung are in agony, but my heart hurts even worse…” Nish laments.

“Jo’dehki is sorry, my friend.” He says softly.

“Hmph. Well, if ever there was a time to say ‘I told you so’ it’d be right now.” Fjorn remarks.

Nish rolls his eyes. The Nord doesn’t seem very upset by his plight, though he is merely traveling with Nish; they’ve never truly been friends.

“What happened that night?” Jo’dehki asks.

“Veera… Daro’veera betrayed me. She waited until I turned my back and then struck me with her staff… The staff I made for her.” Nish seems to chuckle at the horrible irony.

“Was this before or after you slept with her?” Fjorn asks.

“We never mated that night. Only once, while still in Morrowind. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, without me. I asked her what she wanted to do first, then complied.” Nish retorts.

“What a horrible wench.” Jo’dehki growls.

“Indeed. Not even ‘before-I-kill-you’ sex!” Fjorn quips.

“Daro’veera struck me several times, then tried to choke me with the staff. When I grabbed for it, she stabbed me in the back… With the dagger I gave her… By the eight…” Nish places a hand over his face. “She robbed me, taunted me, called me naïve and gullible, then left through the window.”

“Yes, this one searched for her all night, but she was gone.” Jo’dehki remarks.

“Thank you, my friend. I appreciate the effort, but Daro’veera is long gone.” Nish says, patting Jo’dehki’s shoulder.

“Why do you keep calling her Daro’veera? You named her Veera.” Fjorn remarks.

“Honorary prefix for someone lithe of tongue. I thought it fitting. I found the time to rename her in between coughing on my own blood… She seemed to like it.” Nish answers.

“Jo’dehki knew that she could not be trusted. This one never would have left himself alone with that conniving witch. This one does not understand why you did.” Jo’dehki scolds him.

“Ra’kanishu was taught to always try to see the good in people. There’s still some good in her, but she’s quickly washing it away.” Nish murmurs.

“If it was ever there to begin with…” Fjorn mutters.

“Perhaps there was… Perhaps this one was simply blinded.” Nish sighs, his eyes watering.

“If we ever see Daro’veera again, this one promises to kill her and retrieve her head for you.” Jo’dehki says sincerely.

“How about we make our drakes back first? This was a very costly mistake.” Fjorn suggests.

“How costly?” Nish asks.

“I couldn’t save you without help. I kept you alive long enough for Jo’dehki and the innkeeper to fetch a master healer from the Mage’s Guild, who mended you. We each paid two-hundred and fifty drakes. Not to mention the fifty drakes each to rent both of our rooms until you recovered.” Fjorn replies.

“If coin is all you care about, then take it from my stash.” Jo’dehki growls at Fjorn.

Ra’kanishu looks over at Jo’dehki. He never expected such behavior out of the Khajiit. Fjorn doesn’t surprise him in the least, but Jo’dehki’s genuine concern for him briefly eases the pain in his heart. The Nord and Khajiit bicker about the bills for a moment as Nish closes his eyes. He feels responsible for everything, and he knows that he is.

“No…” Nish interrupts their argument. “Take it from me… Pay yourselves back and pay our tabs with what I have. This was my fault. I’m sure you found my real coin purse tucked away in your room anyway.”

“We did.” Fjorn nods.

“There you go, then. Use that money, shut up, and let me rest…” Nish remarks despondently.