"Husband, are yo-" "Sssh, Ghorbash! You're gonna get us caught!" The orc snorted and frowned. Tyr sighed, and turned around in the small space to face Ghorbash. "You're the one who wanted to come along and see what I do. You have to cooperate."
The Dragonborn turned back to his objective and continued to silently sneak through the tiny embassy outbuilding. The larger party room loomed before them. Tyr smirked. "Elenwen is in there. Maven, too. Probably providing a superbly interesting conversation to distract the Thalmor witch." He drew his dwarven dagger. "That woman continues to amaze me." Just then, Ghorbash heard a voice that the Dovahkiin missed. "Tyr!"
Elenwen perked up in her solar. She looked across the desk at Maven. "Did you hear something?" Maven, who heard it very clearly, shook her head. "Hear what?" The elven woman raised her eyebrow and studied Maven's face suspiciously. "Hmm...nothing. Probably just a guard." "You really should discipline them more, Elen. They're much to free, lacking proper respect." Elenwen smiled genuinely and chortled. "That's very Black-Briar of you, Maven. That coldness I adore in your company. But I figure, a happy soldier is an obedient one. Respect is stronger than fear." Maven scoffed. "Only when your inferiors are brain-dead. They've probably had every bit of common sense beaten out of them by your ridiculous Aldmeri philosophies."
Elenwen frowned prudently. "At least they don't need to be hand-fed septims to do my bidding. My justiciars work for average pay, no treats. And quite enjoy it." Maven sensed the venom in Elenwen's tone, and matched it with a frightening accuracy. "They'd run you through in a second, given the order by your superiors." That was deep. Maven was at the very top of her empire. Elenwen was merely a high-ranking figurehead. And she knew it.
Tyr looked through the far window. The stained-glass made the contents invisible, but the voices were distinctly heard. Ghorbash grunted and whispered harshly. "Hurry up. I'm an Orc, not an atronach." Tyr patted his husband's head and got off of his shoulders. "Maven and Elenwen...they're in the solar! Who's leading the party?" Curiosity overtook them, and the two shuffled off to see who was taking Elenwen's place in the party room.
The friendly overtone was gone. Now the two most powerful women in Skyrim were arguing about their most prized accomplishments. "You would have nothing if not for my exploitation of the Empire. Really, you owe your success to me." Elenwen locked eyes with her and spat back, "Don't flatter yourself, you crone! I could order your death right now and you couldn't do a thing to prevent it!" "My people would tear you apart! All of Skyrim would have your head!" "Skyrim is tied up by the Dominion, whom are my people!" The tension was reaching a boiling point.
Tyr snuck back into the party room. "Welcome back, honored guest!" Tyr grimaced internally. The faux-friendliness of the Thalmor soldiers was revolting. Still, he smiled. "Greetings! I hope I didn't miss anything!" He strode into the main room, and nearly fainted. The room was silently screaming, calmly chaotic.
The friendly drunkard that helped him get away in the first place was belting a vulgar song, with a Thalmor wizard desperately trying to peacefully calm him down. That flirty Nord pervert was crumpled up in a chair in a dark corner, looking suspiciously dead in the eyes. The elven server he harassed was standing not far from him, smiling contentedly. Finally, the notoriously snobby Nazeem of Whiterun was sitting on the floor next to a cupboard. He had a drink in a shaky hand, and was mumbling and looking around frantically. Tyr guessed that he hadn't anticipated the level of snobbery present at this gathering, and broke.
Back in the solar, the women continued to harp and hiss. "Thalmor bitch!" "Nord filth!" Maven slammed her fist on the table and stood up. "You've no right to slander my people!" Elenwen looked up at the now red-faced woman and smiled cruelly. "So you are a patriot after all."
