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By the Nine!
By : ShadowMeld
Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim
Views: 2884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls series and make no profit from this work of fanfiction. - Chapter List
They emerged into the little clearing, and seated around a roaring fire was a small group of humans. Ondolemar already felt a sneer contorting his face.
“Good Eve brothers!” The Divine called in hearty tones. To which all the humans seemed to alight on the presence of the man, calling out their greetings with a boisterous cheer which made the altmer cringe as it assaulted his hearing. “Good to see you too, oh mighty Talos. You visit us so rarely,” a hearty Nord chuckled, exchanging an embrace with the Divine. It was clear that the group were very familiar with each other, which only left the mer feeling ever more uncomfortable. What was only worse was as the humans stood to gather around their new guests he felt a few of their gazes turning to him. The normally very upright mer wanted to snarl at them to stop looking at him, not liking at all the conspicuous weight of their too bold perusal. No subtly in this lot, but particularly the Nords. One of them, a towering man with strangely dark hair for the breed was looking at him hard. He knew they were looking at his superiorly bred features, and narrowed his gaze as he tilted his chin upward. “And just who have you brought with you, friend? Not your typical faire, but I’ll admit this one’s still rather pretty,” a Nord with ginger-colored hair dropped in. Heat suffused his cheeks as the mer’s eyes widened in utter outrage at such an insult. The Thalmor was speechless just long enough for Talos to take advantage of the silence for his introduction, “this is Ondolemar. I was hoping you might harbor him for a while. He will be spending some time here in the between lands and is in need of hospitality. Would you keep him?” “Why of course, Talos. A friend of yours is a friend of ours.” Ondolemar had finally had enough of this, “I am no friend to Talos, and I do not care for the pejorative of ‘pretty.’ I am an officer of the Aldmeri Dominion, and I have no ‘need’ of the hospitality of mankind.” He saw the dark haired Nord, the one who’d stared so hard at him, raise a brow and Ondolemar suddenly felt very self-conscious of the Thalmor robe stripped of its enchantments and weighed down by damp and snow, his golden features ruddy with cold. His magicka was keeping him from feeling the worst of it, but he beginning to get exhausted by the effort, and feared by the unpleasant sympathy in the other’s gaze that it showed. The loud one made a clumsy bow, “I apologize if being called pretty offends, but do you truly plan on staying out there in the cold on your own, elf? Your magic will not sustain you forever, and we have warm fire and spare furs.” It chafed that the offer sounded appealing, that the tang of fear at being left alone in this harsh land made him feel sick. But he did not wish to give in so easily and stood up tall even with the radiating heat of the fire calling to him. “And what do you wish in exchange for this… generosity? I doubt you would do anything for some strange mer out of the goodness of your heart.” The Nord held up his hands shaking his head in that saddened way, “Just because you would charge for helping someone in need does not mean that we would. The beasts and cold care little for the difference between man and mer. We are willing to offer everything you need, does anything else really matter... Ondolemar, was it?” A sharp nod confirmed the name, but nothing else was forthcoming as the elf stood arrow straight amidst all of the waiting humans. He hated this, hated it more than patrolling the wretched halls of Skyrim. To think that he could be brought so low…to even think of relying on…humans. But what alternative did he really have? He was stuck here for who knew how long, and there was no way he was going to make up shelter, gather food, and start a fire before dark. No, pragmatism would have to win out, even if it utterly humiliated him to bow to baser need. “Fine… I would accept your… hospitality,” Ondolemar’s voice was quiet, his gaze firmly averted. Divines, but he had sunk to a new low. He may have killed all the wretched Nords that had led his death, but it seemed the beasts had won in the end.- You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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