Love and Bounty

Chapter Thirteen: Burning Memories

A hearthside song, fraught with resonant hums and lute-strums over the crackling of the fire, washed over the seated patrons of the Winking Skeever—two in particular.

Deeja gave Hrolf a side-eye as he took a long and hearty swig of mead. Was this really his idea of fun?

She couldn't say it wasn't expected. Nords and their booze went hand-in-hand, and that much was especially true for the Nords among the Blackbloods. At least Hrolf didn't reek of cheap ale and body odor, and at least he treated her with some measure of kindness—but whether that kindness had ulterior motives was a different story. An unpleasant surprise in the form of Hrolf being a rotten bastard after all was the last thing she needed.

Surely Hrolf would have made a move by now if using her for whatever twisted purpose his true intention was. That gave her some relief, but it also made her stomach sink like a rock. He didn't seem like the type to be picky about women, if he was even into women, but it wasn't like that was something she could ask him outright. She'd die of embarrassment at any answer, even the one that part of her wanted to hear.

"So, Deeja—" Hrolf said suddenly.

The Argonian woman flinched. Hard. Just as her open bottle of bloodwine began to tip over, she grasped it with both hands, a speckle of the red-brown liquid inside splotching the tabletop.

"Woah!" A slight chuckle rumbled in his chest, which only made Deeja's cheeks burn hotter. "Are you alright? You seem tense."

Where'd you figure that out? was what she wanted to say. What came out instead was: "I'm fine." With a resolute thunk, she placed the bottle firmly back on the tabletop. "What is it?"

"I was thinking we should talk about what Gulum-Ei said."

Galum-Jei. Right. "What did he say about those pieces?"

Hrolf rubbed the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. "Not much," he muttered. "Just that they might be valuable to the right merchant."

"Ugh. How helpful," Deeja grumbled.

Hrolf sighed and nodded in agreement. "I know, right?" He drummed his fingers on the table in tune with the melody played throughout the tavern-space. "You could've told me he was an odd one, too."

An odd one? Deeja cocked her brow.

Hrolf got the gist of her expression. "He was being kind of dodgy," he said. "And paranoid. He gave me a warning before I left."

A warning? Did he threaten to kill Hrolf? But why would Galum-Jei have appraised the stones if he threatened to kill Hrolf? It didn't add up, and frigid doubt was starting to crystalize like ice in her stomach.

"Did he threaten to kill you?"

"Well..." Hrolf took a moment to think. "Yeah. He did. But only after he appraised them."

Deeja could feel her brow furrowing with confusion by the minute. "Why would he have threatened you after the fact? Did you do something stupid?"

Hrolf's eyes shifted to his bottle.

"Or say something stupid?"

Deeja could recognize that guilty look on his face from anywhere.

"Hrolf..." she chided, her voice icy and stern. "What did you say?"

The Nord was caught. He rested his hands in his lap and straightened his spine. Please let it be something trivial. "Endarie's name didn't get me anywhere, and... I was angry that he didn't seem to care for you at all, with the way he just abandoned you and Jaree-Ra."