Vivec the Nimble: Alduin's Bane

Introduction

Loredas, 2:16 AM, 14th of Last Seed, 4E 201   

    The soft vibrations of curious purring soothed his aching head. With the feel of home about him, he smiled before turning to sleep on his side. He was content, despite the soreness of his tense muscles and the stiff creaking bed. A whisper, soft, gentle, familiar, brushed past his pointed ear. "Vivec."

     "Vivec..." It said.

    "Vivec wake up!" Furry hands shook him out of his trance. "Brother!"

    His eyes shot open, darting across the room and straight to the khajiit's face. His head had been resting gently on a pair of furry legs. Jumping from the mattress in a split second, he now stood on the cold stone floor, searching for something remotely welcoming with his still adjusting eyes.

    "No need to panic!" Inigo was perched on the bed, waving his arms frantically in fear that the elf would draw someone's attention. "It's just me." Cautiously, like he was approaching a bear, he got to his feet and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "All is well."

    "What's going on? Where are we? Who-" His breath hitched in his throat.

    "You don't remember how we got here? Maybe you are a lightweight." The cat placed his finger at his chin in wonder.

    "I am not." Vivec snapped, still trying to decipher their current condition. "We were-" He fiddled with his braids.

    "Sit." Inigo guided him to the bed, a nurturing hand outstretched. "What do you remember last?"

    "We were in the tavern, as per usual, and then... nothing." They shrugged. "I'm assuming I did something bad... I'm hoping it wasn't too embarrassing."

"Well, if you consider calling a small statue's tits 'nice' because you mistook it for a flirtatious dwarf embarrassing, then.."

"You're shitting me." The boy stared at the wall in font of him in terror.

"Here goes." His companion cracked his knuckles. "We were sitting at a table in the back of The Bee and Barb. I called you a lightweight-"

"I am not a damn lightweight." The elf rubbed his temples.

"If you say so. You tried to prove me wrong, of course, and drank maybe a few too many pints."

"Pints?" He gaped.

Inigo snorted. "Pints! I've never seen you so bold!"

Vivec smacked him on the shoulder.

"Right. I probably should've stopped you. Remember that statue of Dibella you had been ogling? And the collector just across the way..."

"Oh no." He planted his head in his hands.

"The ale, it seems, gave you quite a bit of courage."

"And now we're in a cell... Mara's ass. She didn't take it very well, did she?"

"Well, considering that we no longer have a place to sleep besides here that isn't drenched in mud and skeever dung.. No, it seems she did not take it very well."

"I'm never drinking again." He groaned.

"Let's see how long that lasts."

"Bet she was just so damn grateful to have an excuse to kick us to the curb.." He snarled. "When can we get out of here?"

"Whenever you want to get out of here." Inigo winked. "But this is likely the best we are going to get in the ways of a roof, brother. I don't see why we would want to."

"I'll take another job for Brynjolf. Drop him fifteen gold and I'm sure he'd let us stay there, at least for a while."

"Vec, when your boss, who deals in thievery, is afraid to let you stay with him because he believes you'll steal from him, it might mean you have a problem."

"This again?" He cut his brother off. "Really?" Like throwing gas to a bonfire. "Leave off, will you? I'm trying my best! For you, I might add!"

The sudden change in tone infuriated him, though it did not seem to surprise."Then is not now! Sometimes it's unnecessary!"

"..We've survived off of scraps our whole life, scraps I worked my ass off to dig up for us! There is nothing else out there, no one willing to give hand outs. We have nothing but each other!"

     "You won't let anyone help you!"

     They took a breath. "Inigo, if we're so poor our best option is to stay in prison, it might mean we need to be stealing, to survive. 'Sides, stealing from the Blackbriars' foot-rubbers isn't really stealing, is it? They're all insured.. or something."

He thought about continuing the conversation. "You are right, as usual." And decided it wasn't worth it. "Just- I often wonder when we're going to get what we're owed."

The elf sat up, placing a warm hand on his companion's back. "You are going to die lying in a pile of polished golden coins with an ale in your hand and a line of men and maidens out the door just waiting to tend to your every need, hoping that you'll find them pretty enough to hand all of your assets to. I'll see to it, if it's the last thing I do. You've earned a selfish death."

"And where will you be when all of this happens?"

"At your side, of course! Making fun of your wrinkles and such, wondering how I'm going to stuff all of those coins into my jacket upon making a getaway without a very large corset."

"Is that a promise?" His brother grinned.

"My life goal. The oath which I shall revolve the rest of my life around from this moment forward." They cleared their throat. "But in order to achieve this we must first get out of this shithole, so I suggest you rest up, ask the guards for more bread, and dream of those coins. And me in a corset." He elbowed the khajiit into the furs.

"Stop poking me. I am not a house cat."

"Thank the divines, I'd be distraught if I found out house cats smelled this foul."