Chapter 1: End of the wait.
Drip….drip…..drip. Cold water dripped down between the bars and along the rough stone. The crackle of thunder roared through the chamber, the flash of lightning erased the darkness for a brief moment.
“Bloody bad weather today.” The Dunmer who inhabited the cell mumbled. He glanced at the cell opposite his and sneered. He then walked up to the bars and gripped them with his hands.
“I said, bad weather today.” He repeated. For a few seconds, he waited. Then he scoffed and walked to the dirty rag that was his bed.
“Not very talkative today, are we? Well, I envy you. All that water coming in through that peekhole. Fresh water! I haven’t had fresh water in months!” He spun around and faced the bars again.
“In months, you hear me?! Then why don’t you take advantage of the circumstances and enjoy this luxury your cell provides but mine doesn’t?!”
The man in the other cell lay on his back in a corner of the cell, hands folded under his head, legs slightly spread, feet almost lying in the pool that spread on the floor. The window of his cell lay at the bottom of a slope, which allowed a steady stream of muddy water to enter. To any casual observer, it would seem that he was asleep, comfortable despite the Spartan conditions of his surroundings.
“Don’t get over-excited. Water isn’t the most important thing in the world.” He replied softly without opening his eyes. The Dunmer grit his teeth.
“You and your self-righteous proclaimants. Then what is the most important thing in the world, wiseguy? Well, out with it. Show us the great wisdom of the Altmer.” He spat.
“That is a different thing for each individual. What is the most important thing for you?” The Altmer answered calmly.
The Dunmer kicked one of the walls in his cell.
“Answering a question with a question of your own? Well then, listen carefully. I don’t know why but I’m just going to tell you! The most important thing for me is a woman! I haven’t had my fun with a woman in five years, I’m telling you. Five years! That’s horrible!” He said.
“But at least I’ll be out of here soon. And when I do, I’m going to enjoy it all the way. I’ve always been popular with the ladies, unlike you. A different girl each night, and then some. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” He gloated. The Altmer shrugged, the only motion he’d made in the last two days.
“I don’t see any need to be jealous.” He said.
The Dunmer cocked an eyebrow and stalked back to the bars.
“No need? The Altmer says there is no need to be jealous! Oh, but now I remember. You don’t feel the need to be jealous because your blood is so pure and there is a lass waiting back home who was born just to suit you. Born just to suit you, all thanks to the breeding program you High Elves have. All thanks to your quest for purity.” He snickered and watched his fellow prisoner intently. If he’d been expecting a sign of anger or any other emotion, he would be disappointed.
“Believe what you will.” Was all the Altmer said.
Thunder roared again. Then, silence, safe for the soft clatter of the rain. The Dunmer had returned to his bed and watched the dark sky outside his window.
“Believe what you will. He’s got issues. I bet his mother always beat him whenever he had impure thoughts.” He muttered to himself hatefully. He then rose.
“Believe what you will?” He repeated, louder this time.
“Well, I know what I believe. I believe I’ll use the cache of money I’ve stored under the loose rock in the wall. I was going to save it for later, but this place and you have gotten on my nerves, so there. I’m going to have some fun in this place, even if it kills me!” He decided and pried loose the brick he’d mentioned.
“Be carefull what you wish for.” The Altmer warned. The pool had now crept up to his bare toes, but he did not move them. Even though the water was near freezing, he did not seem to be bothered at all by it. Meanwhile, the Dunmer scooped up the coins he’d hidden and counted them. He chose to ignore the other.
“Fifty-four Septims. That’s enough for the guards to buy themselves a couple of bottles.” He spoke, got up and raked one of the coins across the bars.
“What are you making all that racket for, prisoner?!” A guard inquired in a gruff tone. He’d come to investigate the cause of the noise. The Dunmer looked the man up from head to toe.
“Tell me, friend? Have you been doing well at your card-games?” He then chuckled. The Imperial’s brow furrowed.
“None of your bussines, Dark Elf scum! Now keep it quiet down here!” He spat. He waved his arm across, pointing at the Altmer in the other cell.
“Take an example from him. He’s been here since before I was born, and not even once did he cause trouble.” He added. The Dunmer smiled, revealing two incomplete rows of yellow-brownish teeth. Perhaps he’d once been popular with the ladies but in his current state, popularity would need some help.
“Just as I thought. You’ve been losing badly, haven’t you? Well, I just happen to have the solution to that particular little problem of yours.” He whispered and flashed a coin. Instantly, the guard became twice as attentive.
“How much do you have?” He asked in a coarse whisper of his own.
“Twenty-seven in total.” The Dunmer lied. He then leaned in as close as he could without hitting the bars with his forehead. Thunder echoed through the prison complex.
“Twenty-seven perfectly legitimate Septims. Twenty-seven shiny bits of gold and copper. They could be yours, so very easily….for a small favour, of course.” He offered. The guard licked his lips and let his eyes slip to the coins the Dunmer now held up in his hand, yet still out of his reach. He thought of going back to the barracks and taking the keys to the Dunmer’s cell, so he could take the money by force. But if he did that, his commander would have him fired and thrown into a cell instantly on the charge of accepting bribes. He would be better off listening to what the man had to offer.
“I’m listening.”
The Dunmer leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against the bars.
“Good, good. You see, I’m feeling rather…lonely. While he doesn’t cause any trouble, our friend over there is a poor conversationalist. A man of few words. So I was thinking, if you could help me out, perhaps provide me with….suitable company? I would be more than willing to help out a friend who is in need of a financial boost. Rub my back, rub yours?” He whispered. The guard looked into the crimson eyes of the prisoner, glanced at the Altmer, the coins and weighed the risk. If the Altmer talked, he would still be in trouble. But the gold-skinned fellow appeared to be sound asleep, impossible as it might sound with the thunder and lightning playing outside. The Imperial grinned, a greedy grin.
“For a friend, why certainly. It would be a pleasure, no, an honour to help. In fact, I just seem to remember that prisonblock C is undergoing renovations. We need to relocate the current occupants. I was just wondering where to move some of them anyway. I’ll see if I can send over a…better conversationalist.” He said and held out his hand. The Dunmer grinned and handed over some of the coins.
“Half now, half upon delivery.”
As the guard walked away, the Dunmer smirked.
“And that is that. Oh so easy. Bet you are jealous now, aren’t you?” He gloated.
“Not really. More like pity you.” The Altmer replied.
“What?! You pity me?! You have lost your mind! I make the guards dance like puppets on their strings!” The Dunmer shouted, only to fall silent. He listened intently. Fortunately, all he heard was rambunctious laughter. The guards upstairs hadn’t heard. He let out a sigh of relief but still seethed within. Everything he’d tried in the past five years, every word, every insult, nothing had ever upset the Altmer. He’d even thrown rocks at him, and still nothing. All the Altmer had done was casually sweep them out of the air with his mind.
“How long will they keep dancing for you when you run out of bribes?” The Altmer asked now. The Dunmer did not answer.
For half an hour, the guard did not return and the Dunmer grew restless.
“The scumbag has run off with my money!” He hissed.
“Perhaps not. Prisonblock C is all the way on the other side of the complex.” The Altmer said. The Dunmer actually felt his jaw drop. Now the Altmer was reassuring him? Then suspicion dawned on him.
“How do you know the layout of the prison?” He asked warily. The Altmer actually went so far as to shrug. The pool of water had now creeped up to his ankles.
“I’ve been places, done things.” Was his cryptical answer. Another fifteen minutes later, they heard heavy boots stomping on cold stone, accompanied by the lighter patter of bare feet. The Dunmer almost ran to the bars and peered down the dark corridor. There, a reflection on unpolished armour. The guard had returned.
“Good evening again. This young lady here was delighted with the prospect of a conversation.” The guard grinned while he searched his keyring for the right key. The lady in question was less than amused however.
“Conversation? You said I was going to a warmer place.” She said. The Dunmer laughed and beckoned with a hand.
“Oh, but this place is warm, oh yes it is.” He chuckled.
“I don’t see a fire.”
The guard sighed.
“Oh, for creep’s sake. I forgot that there is only one cellkey on a keyring at a time. Hold on, I’ll chain her to one of these rings on the walls and go hunt for the right key to open the door.” He said and added the deed to his words. When he was gone again, the Dunmer leaned against the nearest wall.
“You are a bit dumb, aren’t you?” He noted as he looked the new prisoner up.
“Bah, one of those Bosmer treehuggers. I hate those. They always go crazy underground and end up having to be put down.” He then spat.
“But, I’ll take whatever I can get.” He followed. The Bosmer’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t you dare touch me. I know fully well what you mean by warm and it’s not going to happen!” She snapped.
The Dunmer tried his best to look innocent, but ended up looking shifty instead.
“Who, me? I wouldn’t dare to dream about…..Ok, I lied. I would and I will. So, what are you going to do about it, shorty? Call for help?” He leaned in closer and wished the bars weren’t there to stop him. But then again, he realized, if there weren’t any bars, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“Who are you going to call?” He continued with a nasty smirk.
“The guards? You’re a criminal, they couldn’t care less about what’s happening to you. Sleeping beauty over there? Oh, Almsivi forbid you spoil his divine rest. He would burn the flesh off of your bones in an instant.” He chuckled to himself at the last one.
“Not really.” The Altmer interjected. The Dunmer stabbed a thumb at him.
“See, he wouldn’t do a thing. I bet he would rather watch and enjoy the show.” He then gloated.
“No, I would remove certain equipment from you with a well-aimed Heyat.” The Dunmer felt his jaw drop again. Now the altmer was actually threatening him? That had never happened before!
“Wha?” He stammered. The Altmer finally opened his eyes and now looked directly at the Dunmer. Crimson eyes, the eyes of a Dunmer.
“You’re harmless, when you’re alone. When you’re not, you’d better practice proper manners.” The Altmer warned. The Dunmer got a hold of himself.
“Oh my, aren’t we feeling heroic today.” He mocked.
“Well, I guess I’ll humour your request though, for now. How about we have a nice conversation while waiting for the guard to return?” He offered. The Bosmer looked away.
“No thank you, I don’t need to hear about your exploits…pervert.”
The Dunmer pretended to be shocked.
“Oh, you break my poor heart, little one.” He cried.
“No, no, I wasn’t going to talk about my exploits. Rather, I felt the sudden urge to tell you more about this lovely place. Prisonblock V, the prisonblock closest to the barracks and with an entrance to the palace itself, something which required a lot of regulations to be changed. As such, it is no surprise that its construction was ordered by Jagar Tharn, that dreadfull Altmer who betrayed all of Tamriel in his mad bid for power. I mean, we all know he was a lunatic. A dangerous and evil lunatic. So evil, it makes me look like a saint!” He burst out laughing.
“Hey, sleeper! You hear me?! Jagar Tharn was an Altmer!” The Altmer in the other cell closed his eyes again.
“You’re simplifying things.” He said without a hint of anger. Finally, the guard returned. But he was not alone.
The Imperial looked unhappy and kept to the shadows. The other man was dressed in the uniform of the prison commander.
“Relocation from Prisonblock C to prisonblock V.” He said as he unchained the Bosmer from the wall.
“Relocation approved.” He continued in a formal tone. The guard licked his lips.
“Sir, with all due respect. I could have done this by myself. There was no need for you to interrupt your activities and…” He fell silent as his commander laid eyes upon him.
“Marcus, regulations clearly state that prisoners may never be moved by a single guard. We take precautions by denying mages their magicka, swordsmen their weapons, but we can’t deny a brawler his fists. Therefore, no matter how harmless the prisoner might seem, never less than two guards to move him or her.” He clearly stated. He sifted through his pockets and pulled out a key.
“And therefore, miss. You will now occupy cell number three.” He continued.
The guard now stepped out of the shadows he’d subconsciously been hiding in.
“But…sir….cell number two is larger….wouldn….” Again the commander laid eyes upon the guard and again the guard fell silent.
“I know. Cell number one is unavailable due to its status as storeroom, leaving only two and three. But she’s not going into two.” He said, glanced at the Altmer to assure himself he wasn’t going to become hostile and inserted the key in the lock.
“But…why?” Marcus almost pleaded. The Dunmer gave him a warning glare.
“No woman, no money.” His eyes spoke. The commander spun around, his nostrils flaring in anger.
“Stop questioning my motives, Marcus! Want to know why? Fine, I’ll tell you! Because at least he wasn’t put on trial for rape!” He snarled, pointing at the Altmer.
“Unlike the ash-skin over there.” He added.
“Now be quiet or I’ll put you on report.”
The Bosmer was shoved in and the two guards left without a further word. Marcus glanced over his shoulder one last time, to see the Dunmer pocket his money with a venomous snarl. Once the two guards were truly gone, the Dunmer peered at the cell on the other side of the corridor.
“Hey, you two! The least you can do is give me a good show!” He sneered. The Bosmer pressed her back against the bars and stared at the Altmer with wide open eyes.
“No funny movements, I’m warning you!” She stammered. The Altmer opened one eye and peered back at her.
“Relax, I’ve got better things to do than bother you. You can take the rag, if you so desire. Use it to warm your feet.” He replied.
“Better things….like what?” The Bosmer asked after a short silence.
“Waiting.”
The Dunmer returned to his own bed and lay down.
“You two, if I hear or see either of you mock me, I’ll kill you! I’ve still got this broken bowl and a ceramic shard in your face really hurts!” He warned. The Altmer actually smiled. While he kept his silence, the motion was clear. He did not fear the Dunmer.
“Argh! I hate this place! First I bribe a guard, and he doesn’t pull his end of the deal! Then, the damn woman gets thrown in sight, into a cell together with the most coldblooded elf I’ve ever seen! Seriously, I bet you wouldn’t bat an eye in a brothel surrounded by a hundred pretty ones and instead order some clear water, oh so calmly!”
“Actually, I’ve done that before.” The Dunmer let out a sigh.
“Oh great Almsivi, he’s done it before?! Is there anything that can crack his armour of calm?”
The Bosmer picked up the rag lying in a corner of her new cell and wrapped it around her feet. It did little to help the frostbite in her toes, but it was better than nothing. She next searched for a place to call her own and picked out a small alcove for it. If she huddled down there, she was as far away from the Dunmer as she could be while still keeping some distance on the Altmer. She glanced at her cellmate. The water had creeped beyond his ankles and was well on its way to his knees now. But still, he had not moved them. At least it had stopped raining. The pool would not grow any further.
“What are you, some kind of monk?” She wondered out loud.
“Not really, but I do practice some of their techniques.” The Bosmer looked at the pool again.
“Like the fabled ‘taking a footbath in a pool of near-freezing water’?” She joked. The Altmer did not respond and so silence returned. It didn’t last.
“Hey, girl! What did they arrest you for?” The Dunmer yelled. The Bosmer looked up from her feet and turned her back on the Dunmer so she faced the wall.
“None of your business.” She called back.
“Oh, come on. In this place, you’ll do anything to get the boredom gone. Some of us sleep for days, others like to talk. I’m the guy who likes to talk.” The Dunmer said.
“Oh, really? You’re the type who likes to talk? It sure didn’t sound like it just a few minutes ago!”
The Dunmer looked hurt.
“Oh, such harsh accusations! You are a feisty one, aren’t you?” He laughed. The Bosmer wrinkled her nose.
“Hmph, be glad I didn’t get stuck in your cell. Any guy who tries to do something funny to me gets one foot to the face, the other to the knee and then both of them to the windpipe.” She claimed.
“You trained?” The Altmer asked. The Bosmer turned to him somewhat eagerly. At least he seemed to be decent so far.
“A little. I learned some things from monks. The physical things, not the mental. I’ve never been able to understand why anyone would willingly suffer discomfort.” She answered. The Altmer nodded and lay still. Figuring he was dozing off, the Bosmer decided it would be relatively safe to take a nap of her own. But first, she had things to do.
She stepped out of her alcove and peered at the Dunmer. He wasn’t looking at her, good. She tiptoed over to the bars and crouched down.
“I’m sure I heard some feet….there it is.” In one swift motion, she reached out between the bars, closed her fingers around something and pulled back. She got up and tiptoed back to the alcove. She stole a glance over her shoulder as she did so. The Dunmer hadn’t noticed a thing.
“I don’t think I’d be able to endure his response to this.” She thought as she opened her hands. The rat was still kicking weakly with its feet. She looked on with a hint of disgust as the small creature tried to draw breath through its crushed throat. When it lay still, she slowly brought it up to her face.
“Ugh. I don’t want to know what this one has been rolling around in.” She grimaced as she picked up its scent.
She woke up an unknown number of hours later. Rubbing her still sleepy eyes with one hand, she wondered where she was. Then she remembered and her gaze shot to the sleeping form of the Altmer. Except, he wasn’t asleep, nor was he where she’d expected him to be. Instead of lying in the corner on the other side of their cell, he was standing right next to her.
“Ee….” She began but the Altmer quickly stifled her voice by putting his hand over her mouth.
“Hush. Something’s going on.” He whispered and pointed up at the ceiling with his free hand. She looked up, after pulling her face away from him, but there was nothing to see but cold rock.
“Well, of course there isn’t. It’s a ceiling.” She scolded herself. She peeked her ears. Had she heard something?
One glance at the Altmer told her he heard something as well.
“I’d rather not wake the Dunmer over there, so keep your voice down.” The Altmer advised. The Bosmer nodded. The Altmer looked at the hand he’d used to cover her mouth and rubbed it off on the stone walls.
“Bit your tongue?” He asked. She chose to ignore the comment.
“So, what’s going on?” She whispered back. The Altmer stepped into the alcove which made her heart skip a beat. She held her breath, releasing it only after she’d realized that he barely noticed her.
“It’s the deepest part of the night, but someone is with the guards upstairs, talking.” He said. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
“This might be it.”
On to the next chapter
Drip….drip…..drip. Cold water dripped down between the bars and along the rough stone. The crackle of thunder roared through the chamber, the flash of lightning erased the darkness for a brief moment.
“Bloody bad weather today.” The Dunmer who inhabited the cell mumbled. He glanced at the cell opposite his and sneered. He then walked up to the bars and gripped them with his hands.
“I said, bad weather today.” He repeated. For a few seconds, he waited. Then he scoffed and walked to the dirty rag that was his bed.
“Not very talkative today, are we? Well, I envy you. All that water coming in through that peekhole. Fresh water! I haven’t had fresh water in months!” He spun around and faced the bars again.
“In months, you hear me?! Then why don’t you take advantage of the circumstances and enjoy this luxury your cell provides but mine doesn’t?!”
The man in the other cell lay on his back in a corner of the cell, hands folded under his head, legs slightly spread, feet almost lying in the pool that spread on the floor. The window of his cell lay at the bottom of a slope, which allowed a steady stream of muddy water to enter. To any casual observer, it would seem that he was asleep, comfortable despite the Spartan conditions of his surroundings.
“Don’t get over-excited. Water isn’t the most important thing in the world.” He replied softly without opening his eyes. The Dunmer grit his teeth.
“You and your self-righteous proclaimants. Then what is the most important thing in the world, wiseguy? Well, out with it. Show us the great wisdom of the Altmer.” He spat.
“That is a different thing for each individual. What is the most important thing for you?” The Altmer answered calmly.
The Dunmer kicked one of the walls in his cell.
“Answering a question with a question of your own? Well then, listen carefully. I don’t know why but I’m just going to tell you! The most important thing for me is a woman! I haven’t had my fun with a woman in five years, I’m telling you. Five years! That’s horrible!” He said.
“But at least I’ll be out of here soon. And when I do, I’m going to enjoy it all the way. I’ve always been popular with the ladies, unlike you. A different girl each night, and then some. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” He gloated. The Altmer shrugged, the only motion he’d made in the last two days.
“I don’t see any need to be jealous.” He said.
The Dunmer cocked an eyebrow and stalked back to the bars.
“No need? The Altmer says there is no need to be jealous! Oh, but now I remember. You don’t feel the need to be jealous because your blood is so pure and there is a lass waiting back home who was born just to suit you. Born just to suit you, all thanks to the breeding program you High Elves have. All thanks to your quest for purity.” He snickered and watched his fellow prisoner intently. If he’d been expecting a sign of anger or any other emotion, he would be disappointed.
“Believe what you will.” Was all the Altmer said.
Thunder roared again. Then, silence, safe for the soft clatter of the rain. The Dunmer had returned to his bed and watched the dark sky outside his window.
“Believe what you will. He’s got issues. I bet his mother always beat him whenever he had impure thoughts.” He muttered to himself hatefully. He then rose.
“Believe what you will?” He repeated, louder this time.
“Well, I know what I believe. I believe I’ll use the cache of money I’ve stored under the loose rock in the wall. I was going to save it for later, but this place and you have gotten on my nerves, so there. I’m going to have some fun in this place, even if it kills me!” He decided and pried loose the brick he’d mentioned.
“Be carefull what you wish for.” The Altmer warned. The pool had now crept up to his bare toes, but he did not move them. Even though the water was near freezing, he did not seem to be bothered at all by it. Meanwhile, the Dunmer scooped up the coins he’d hidden and counted them. He chose to ignore the other.
“Fifty-four Septims. That’s enough for the guards to buy themselves a couple of bottles.” He spoke, got up and raked one of the coins across the bars.
“What are you making all that racket for, prisoner?!” A guard inquired in a gruff tone. He’d come to investigate the cause of the noise. The Dunmer looked the man up from head to toe.
“Tell me, friend? Have you been doing well at your card-games?” He then chuckled. The Imperial’s brow furrowed.
“None of your bussines, Dark Elf scum! Now keep it quiet down here!” He spat. He waved his arm across, pointing at the Altmer in the other cell.
“Take an example from him. He’s been here since before I was born, and not even once did he cause trouble.” He added. The Dunmer smiled, revealing two incomplete rows of yellow-brownish teeth. Perhaps he’d once been popular with the ladies but in his current state, popularity would need some help.
“Just as I thought. You’ve been losing badly, haven’t you? Well, I just happen to have the solution to that particular little problem of yours.” He whispered and flashed a coin. Instantly, the guard became twice as attentive.
“How much do you have?” He asked in a coarse whisper of his own.
“Twenty-seven in total.” The Dunmer lied. He then leaned in as close as he could without hitting the bars with his forehead. Thunder echoed through the prison complex.
“Twenty-seven perfectly legitimate Septims. Twenty-seven shiny bits of gold and copper. They could be yours, so very easily….for a small favour, of course.” He offered. The guard licked his lips and let his eyes slip to the coins the Dunmer now held up in his hand, yet still out of his reach. He thought of going back to the barracks and taking the keys to the Dunmer’s cell, so he could take the money by force. But if he did that, his commander would have him fired and thrown into a cell instantly on the charge of accepting bribes. He would be better off listening to what the man had to offer.
“I’m listening.”
The Dunmer leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against the bars.
“Good, good. You see, I’m feeling rather…lonely. While he doesn’t cause any trouble, our friend over there is a poor conversationalist. A man of few words. So I was thinking, if you could help me out, perhaps provide me with….suitable company? I would be more than willing to help out a friend who is in need of a financial boost. Rub my back, rub yours?” He whispered. The guard looked into the crimson eyes of the prisoner, glanced at the Altmer, the coins and weighed the risk. If the Altmer talked, he would still be in trouble. But the gold-skinned fellow appeared to be sound asleep, impossible as it might sound with the thunder and lightning playing outside. The Imperial grinned, a greedy grin.
“For a friend, why certainly. It would be a pleasure, no, an honour to help. In fact, I just seem to remember that prisonblock C is undergoing renovations. We need to relocate the current occupants. I was just wondering where to move some of them anyway. I’ll see if I can send over a…better conversationalist.” He said and held out his hand. The Dunmer grinned and handed over some of the coins.
“Half now, half upon delivery.”
As the guard walked away, the Dunmer smirked.
“And that is that. Oh so easy. Bet you are jealous now, aren’t you?” He gloated.
“Not really. More like pity you.” The Altmer replied.
“What?! You pity me?! You have lost your mind! I make the guards dance like puppets on their strings!” The Dunmer shouted, only to fall silent. He listened intently. Fortunately, all he heard was rambunctious laughter. The guards upstairs hadn’t heard. He let out a sigh of relief but still seethed within. Everything he’d tried in the past five years, every word, every insult, nothing had ever upset the Altmer. He’d even thrown rocks at him, and still nothing. All the Altmer had done was casually sweep them out of the air with his mind.
“How long will they keep dancing for you when you run out of bribes?” The Altmer asked now. The Dunmer did not answer.
For half an hour, the guard did not return and the Dunmer grew restless.
“The scumbag has run off with my money!” He hissed.
“Perhaps not. Prisonblock C is all the way on the other side of the complex.” The Altmer said. The Dunmer actually felt his jaw drop. Now the Altmer was reassuring him? Then suspicion dawned on him.
“How do you know the layout of the prison?” He asked warily. The Altmer actually went so far as to shrug. The pool of water had now creeped up to his ankles.
“I’ve been places, done things.” Was his cryptical answer. Another fifteen minutes later, they heard heavy boots stomping on cold stone, accompanied by the lighter patter of bare feet. The Dunmer almost ran to the bars and peered down the dark corridor. There, a reflection on unpolished armour. The guard had returned.
“Good evening again. This young lady here was delighted with the prospect of a conversation.” The guard grinned while he searched his keyring for the right key. The lady in question was less than amused however.
“Conversation? You said I was going to a warmer place.” She said. The Dunmer laughed and beckoned with a hand.
“Oh, but this place is warm, oh yes it is.” He chuckled.
“I don’t see a fire.”
The guard sighed.
“Oh, for creep’s sake. I forgot that there is only one cellkey on a keyring at a time. Hold on, I’ll chain her to one of these rings on the walls and go hunt for the right key to open the door.” He said and added the deed to his words. When he was gone again, the Dunmer leaned against the nearest wall.
“You are a bit dumb, aren’t you?” He noted as he looked the new prisoner up.
“Bah, one of those Bosmer treehuggers. I hate those. They always go crazy underground and end up having to be put down.” He then spat.
“But, I’ll take whatever I can get.” He followed. The Bosmer’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t you dare touch me. I know fully well what you mean by warm and it’s not going to happen!” She snapped.
The Dunmer tried his best to look innocent, but ended up looking shifty instead.
“Who, me? I wouldn’t dare to dream about…..Ok, I lied. I would and I will. So, what are you going to do about it, shorty? Call for help?” He leaned in closer and wished the bars weren’t there to stop him. But then again, he realized, if there weren’t any bars, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“Who are you going to call?” He continued with a nasty smirk.
“The guards? You’re a criminal, they couldn’t care less about what’s happening to you. Sleeping beauty over there? Oh, Almsivi forbid you spoil his divine rest. He would burn the flesh off of your bones in an instant.” He chuckled to himself at the last one.
“Not really.” The Altmer interjected. The Dunmer stabbed a thumb at him.
“See, he wouldn’t do a thing. I bet he would rather watch and enjoy the show.” He then gloated.
“No, I would remove certain equipment from you with a well-aimed Heyat.” The Dunmer felt his jaw drop again. Now the altmer was actually threatening him? That had never happened before!
“Wha?” He stammered. The Altmer finally opened his eyes and now looked directly at the Dunmer. Crimson eyes, the eyes of a Dunmer.
“You’re harmless, when you’re alone. When you’re not, you’d better practice proper manners.” The Altmer warned. The Dunmer got a hold of himself.
“Oh my, aren’t we feeling heroic today.” He mocked.
“Well, I guess I’ll humour your request though, for now. How about we have a nice conversation while waiting for the guard to return?” He offered. The Bosmer looked away.
“No thank you, I don’t need to hear about your exploits…pervert.”
The Dunmer pretended to be shocked.
“Oh, you break my poor heart, little one.” He cried.
“No, no, I wasn’t going to talk about my exploits. Rather, I felt the sudden urge to tell you more about this lovely place. Prisonblock V, the prisonblock closest to the barracks and with an entrance to the palace itself, something which required a lot of regulations to be changed. As such, it is no surprise that its construction was ordered by Jagar Tharn, that dreadfull Altmer who betrayed all of Tamriel in his mad bid for power. I mean, we all know he was a lunatic. A dangerous and evil lunatic. So evil, it makes me look like a saint!” He burst out laughing.
“Hey, sleeper! You hear me?! Jagar Tharn was an Altmer!” The Altmer in the other cell closed his eyes again.
“You’re simplifying things.” He said without a hint of anger. Finally, the guard returned. But he was not alone.
The Imperial looked unhappy and kept to the shadows. The other man was dressed in the uniform of the prison commander.
“Relocation from Prisonblock C to prisonblock V.” He said as he unchained the Bosmer from the wall.
“Relocation approved.” He continued in a formal tone. The guard licked his lips.
“Sir, with all due respect. I could have done this by myself. There was no need for you to interrupt your activities and…” He fell silent as his commander laid eyes upon him.
“Marcus, regulations clearly state that prisoners may never be moved by a single guard. We take precautions by denying mages their magicka, swordsmen their weapons, but we can’t deny a brawler his fists. Therefore, no matter how harmless the prisoner might seem, never less than two guards to move him or her.” He clearly stated. He sifted through his pockets and pulled out a key.
“And therefore, miss. You will now occupy cell number three.” He continued.
The guard now stepped out of the shadows he’d subconsciously been hiding in.
“But…sir….cell number two is larger….wouldn….” Again the commander laid eyes upon the guard and again the guard fell silent.
“I know. Cell number one is unavailable due to its status as storeroom, leaving only two and three. But she’s not going into two.” He said, glanced at the Altmer to assure himself he wasn’t going to become hostile and inserted the key in the lock.
“But…why?” Marcus almost pleaded. The Dunmer gave him a warning glare.
“No woman, no money.” His eyes spoke. The commander spun around, his nostrils flaring in anger.
“Stop questioning my motives, Marcus! Want to know why? Fine, I’ll tell you! Because at least he wasn’t put on trial for rape!” He snarled, pointing at the Altmer.
“Unlike the ash-skin over there.” He added.
“Now be quiet or I’ll put you on report.”
The Bosmer was shoved in and the two guards left without a further word. Marcus glanced over his shoulder one last time, to see the Dunmer pocket his money with a venomous snarl. Once the two guards were truly gone, the Dunmer peered at the cell on the other side of the corridor.
“Hey, you two! The least you can do is give me a good show!” He sneered. The Bosmer pressed her back against the bars and stared at the Altmer with wide open eyes.
“No funny movements, I’m warning you!” She stammered. The Altmer opened one eye and peered back at her.
“Relax, I’ve got better things to do than bother you. You can take the rag, if you so desire. Use it to warm your feet.” He replied.
“Better things….like what?” The Bosmer asked after a short silence.
“Waiting.”
The Dunmer returned to his own bed and lay down.
“You two, if I hear or see either of you mock me, I’ll kill you! I’ve still got this broken bowl and a ceramic shard in your face really hurts!” He warned. The Altmer actually smiled. While he kept his silence, the motion was clear. He did not fear the Dunmer.
“Argh! I hate this place! First I bribe a guard, and he doesn’t pull his end of the deal! Then, the damn woman gets thrown in sight, into a cell together with the most coldblooded elf I’ve ever seen! Seriously, I bet you wouldn’t bat an eye in a brothel surrounded by a hundred pretty ones and instead order some clear water, oh so calmly!”
“Actually, I’ve done that before.” The Dunmer let out a sigh.
“Oh great Almsivi, he’s done it before?! Is there anything that can crack his armour of calm?”
The Bosmer picked up the rag lying in a corner of her new cell and wrapped it around her feet. It did little to help the frostbite in her toes, but it was better than nothing. She next searched for a place to call her own and picked out a small alcove for it. If she huddled down there, she was as far away from the Dunmer as she could be while still keeping some distance on the Altmer. She glanced at her cellmate. The water had creeped beyond his ankles and was well on its way to his knees now. But still, he had not moved them. At least it had stopped raining. The pool would not grow any further.
“What are you, some kind of monk?” She wondered out loud.
“Not really, but I do practice some of their techniques.” The Bosmer looked at the pool again.
“Like the fabled ‘taking a footbath in a pool of near-freezing water’?” She joked. The Altmer did not respond and so silence returned. It didn’t last.
“Hey, girl! What did they arrest you for?” The Dunmer yelled. The Bosmer looked up from her feet and turned her back on the Dunmer so she faced the wall.
“None of your business.” She called back.
“Oh, come on. In this place, you’ll do anything to get the boredom gone. Some of us sleep for days, others like to talk. I’m the guy who likes to talk.” The Dunmer said.
“Oh, really? You’re the type who likes to talk? It sure didn’t sound like it just a few minutes ago!”
The Dunmer looked hurt.
“Oh, such harsh accusations! You are a feisty one, aren’t you?” He laughed. The Bosmer wrinkled her nose.
“Hmph, be glad I didn’t get stuck in your cell. Any guy who tries to do something funny to me gets one foot to the face, the other to the knee and then both of them to the windpipe.” She claimed.
“You trained?” The Altmer asked. The Bosmer turned to him somewhat eagerly. At least he seemed to be decent so far.
“A little. I learned some things from monks. The physical things, not the mental. I’ve never been able to understand why anyone would willingly suffer discomfort.” She answered. The Altmer nodded and lay still. Figuring he was dozing off, the Bosmer decided it would be relatively safe to take a nap of her own. But first, she had things to do.
She stepped out of her alcove and peered at the Dunmer. He wasn’t looking at her, good. She tiptoed over to the bars and crouched down.
“I’m sure I heard some feet….there it is.” In one swift motion, she reached out between the bars, closed her fingers around something and pulled back. She got up and tiptoed back to the alcove. She stole a glance over her shoulder as she did so. The Dunmer hadn’t noticed a thing.
“I don’t think I’d be able to endure his response to this.” She thought as she opened her hands. The rat was still kicking weakly with its feet. She looked on with a hint of disgust as the small creature tried to draw breath through its crushed throat. When it lay still, she slowly brought it up to her face.
“Ugh. I don’t want to know what this one has been rolling around in.” She grimaced as she picked up its scent.
She woke up an unknown number of hours later. Rubbing her still sleepy eyes with one hand, she wondered where she was. Then she remembered and her gaze shot to the sleeping form of the Altmer. Except, he wasn’t asleep, nor was he where she’d expected him to be. Instead of lying in the corner on the other side of their cell, he was standing right next to her.
“Ee….” She began but the Altmer quickly stifled her voice by putting his hand over her mouth.
“Hush. Something’s going on.” He whispered and pointed up at the ceiling with his free hand. She looked up, after pulling her face away from him, but there was nothing to see but cold rock.
“Well, of course there isn’t. It’s a ceiling.” She scolded herself. She peeked her ears. Had she heard something?
One glance at the Altmer told her he heard something as well.
“I’d rather not wake the Dunmer over there, so keep your voice down.” The Altmer advised. The Bosmer nodded. The Altmer looked at the hand he’d used to cover her mouth and rubbed it off on the stone walls.
“Bit your tongue?” He asked. She chose to ignore the comment.
“So, what’s going on?” She whispered back. The Altmer stepped into the alcove which made her heart skip a beat. She held her breath, releasing it only after she’d realized that he barely noticed her.
“It’s the deepest part of the night, but someone is with the guards upstairs, talking.” He said. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
“This might be it.”
On to the next chapter