Or, Fear and Loathing In South Cyrodiil
by Yorneim Hier
Prologue
Cyrodiil/Black Marsh Border
"Hides-in-the-Sun! I can't...run...anymore! We must...stop...please!" Little-Toad stumbled in the mud behind Hides-in-the-Sun, gasping for breath in the humid swamp air, swatting at the flies in his face, which he kept inhaling and spitting out. Even leaning against a tree, the skinny Argonian could barely stand.
Hides-in-the-Sun stopped and looked back at his companion. Part of him really wanted to stop and rest, to just lie down and go to sleep in the mud and let sweet oblivion take him. Then he looked at the manacle on his wrist, and a silent resolve befell him. They could not stop.
The two Argonians had been travelling for almost a week, stopping to eat and rest only during the pitch darkness of the early morning. When the gray morning came and they could see more than a foot in front of them, Hides-in-the-Sun would urge Little-Toad onward, threatening to leave the smaller of the pair behind. Their journey from Tear, Morrowind, had at first led south to emancipation in Black Marsh. The first day had been relatively easy, even in their weakened condition. The smell of freedom was more than enough incentive to ignore the muscle aches and roaring bellies. Then the Dunmer caravans became harder to evade. Hides-in-the-Sun then decided they should head west, to Cyrodiil, in the hopes Imperial law would protect them.
Finally Hides-in-the-Sun spoke: "We are almost there, Toad. Just a little farther, another day's journey, I promise."
"You said that--*ptui!*--yesterday." Toad spat out a bug.
"We are going a good pace. It can't be much farther," Hides-in-the-Sun assured. "I promised you freedom, brother. I will not fail you."
Toad's legs trembled, screaming their protest with searing pain in his mind. "I can go no farther, Hides-in-the-Sun. I am done." Slowly he sank to his knees and sat on his heels, his head against the damp bark of the tree. Like Hides-in-the-Sun's, Toad's belly was distended with malnutrition, but even in good health, he was always smaller and weaker than Hides-in-the-Sun.
Hides-in-the-Sun saw the danger of Toad's despair and knew how easily it could consume them both. With great effort, Hides-in-the-Sun hefted Toad on his shoulder and lifted him to his feet.
"What are you doing, Hides-in-the-Sun?"
"If you won't carry yourself, then I will."
Balmora, Morrowind
Beriah noted the night was moonless as she left the Corner Club alone. She was always leaving the club alone, she realized. It was starting to dawn on her that maybe the problem was not with all the would-be suitors that would not do. Maybe the problem was with her. She considered herself a prize worthy of being well kept; she was quite beautiful, or at least that was what people kept telling her. People certainly treated her that way, and if they insisted on doing so, then why should she not indulge them (and herself) by letting them? Perhaps the problem was not with her after all. Balmora was a large city, to be sure, but not so large that she did not seem to know everybody by name. It was always the same people, she realized, over and over again. That was the problem. She decided then that she would plan a trip to somewhere a little more exotic, maybe Ebonheart.
It was at that moment Beriah also decided she was not alone. There were shadows moving in the periphery of her vision, shadows that could evidently see in the dark much better than she could. Truly she did not see the shadows accumulating behind her, the blow to her right temple that sent her tumbling into the dirty street, or the rough hands that tightly gripped her throat, wrists and ankles and that tore at her clothes. All she could do was lie there, pulled and prodded and turned and twisted.
"Has she had enough, you think?" One voice asked.
"No," another voice purred. "These pervert darkies all like it rough."
Years later...
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil
She awoke with a gasp, her skin dripping with sweat. Slowly Beriah's breathing returned to normal as she realized she had dreamed the attack again. She was not sure which upset and confused her more, how she had felt then or how she felt now. There came a quick knock at the front door. She could tell by the light that it was late in the morning. She pulled on her robe and tied the sash loosely as she went to answer the rapping.
Her heart hammered again. "Oh, Hides-in-the-Sun. Good morning." She smiled nervously.
Hides-in-the-Sun stood at the door with an armful of bread and pastries wrapped in paper. "Good morning, Miss Beriah."
"Uh...please, come in." Beriah gestured and stood aside. The movement opened her robe a little. Hides-in-the-Sun bowed his head as he stepped inside and headed into the kitchen. "Would you mind putting those away for me?" she asked as she fixed her robe and sash.
"Yes--I mean, no, Miss Beriah. I would not mind."
"Thank you." Beriah sat at her dining table, crossing her legs. She opened yesterday's newspaper and pretended to read it. After putting away the groceries, Hides-in-the-Sun stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment. Beriah looked up at him. "Yes?"
"I...money--"
"Oh! I'm sorry, I don't have any on me. I'm coming by the bakery later, though. Tell Jahn I'll bring it then."
Hides-in-the-Sun nodded, hesitated, then left the way he had come. Beriah sighed and went back to bed.
S.,
Gone to get the papers. Watch store for me.
J.
P.S. Please broom the stoop.
Hides-in-the-Sun found the note waiting for him, hung on the bent nail protruding from the doorjamb, which Jahn used for such purposes now. He sighed and unlocked the door. Inside, the bakery still smelled sweet and buttery from the morning. As he broomed the stoop, Hides-in-the-Sun found himself thinking about his relationship with Jahn. Since his coming to Cyrodiil, Jahn had been one of the few people willing to give an uneducated Argonian a job. He had also helped Hides-in-the-Sun learn to speak Aldmeris, which he had picked up rather quickly, although still showed some difficulty mastering. Hides-in-the-Sun had later learned why Jahn had been so willing and able to help the Argonian, however. It seemed the old baker did a lot of business with the "People of the Root," and the Khajiiti population as well, and was somewhat conversational in the languages of Black Marsh and Elsweyr.
"Stop! Thief!"
A small figure ran down the street past confused onlookers. The arms were tucked into the body, holding something in a bundle, and the face was cowled by a brown hood. Farther down the road, Hides-in-the-Sun swept the sidewalk in front of the bakery. Noticing the commotion, he looked up just as the hooded form collided with him. The figure stumbled back, the hood falling away from her face. She was a Khajiit; an Ohmes. For a moment Hides-in-the-Sun mistook her for an Elf of some sort, but then he noticed the fur and tail. She was young, too, from what the Argonian could surmise. In her arms was a threadbare sack, emptied, its contents on the ground between them. Most of it was food, unwrapped and soiled from the dirty sidewalk, swiped from various vendors. There were a few articles of jewelry, rings and bracelets, and some scraps of clothing. She stared up at Hides-in-the-Sun. He stared past her, though, at the guard running down the street.
"Inside. Now. Back room," Hides-in-the-Sun muttered to her. With a bemused expression, the Khajiiti girl nodded and dashed inside the bakery. Hides-in-the-Sun set his broom against the door and bent down to collect the items.
"Thief ran that way, sir," Hides-in-the-Sun said, holding out the stolen goods in his hands to the officer, as he gestured with his head over his shoulder. The guard eyed Hides-in-the-Sun suspiciously for a moment, then stuffed the items in a bag and tied it shut.
"He did, eh?" the guard questioned, staring at Hides-in-the-Sun.
Hides-in-the-Sun nodded. "Yessir. Think I scare him, sir. He drop this bag."
"You get a good look at him?"
At this Hides-in-the-Sun hesitated. "...Not really, sir. Might have been a Woods Elf."
"Hm." The guard paused for a moment. Hides-in-the-Sun swallowed but remained unblinking.
"Got to finish my work, sir," Hides-in-the-Sun said, reaching for his broom.
"Certainly," the guard smiled, suddenly jovial. "My, but those sweetrolls do smell good. Don't suppose you'd let me check out your shop, would you?"
Hides-in-the-Sun blinked and stuttered. "Uh, y-yes, sir. But master's gone to market, sir."
"Well, he trusts you with the goods, doesn't he? Surely the master wouldn't want to pass up a sales opportunity," the guard said as he shouldered Hides-in-the-Sun out of the door and headed directly for the back of the store.
"Uh, sir! Customers not allowed back there, sir!"
"Oh, it's all right. I'm an officer of Imperial Law. It's not like I'm going to steal anything." The guard chuckled to himself as he unsheathed his sword.
Hides-in-the-Sun followed close behind, trying to persuade the officer to leave. "Please, sir, I get in trouble I let someone behind counter."
A voice came from behind them then: "Sunny? What's going on?" Both Hides-in-the-Sun and the guard turned to find a kindly looking old Breton standing in the front doorway of the store with an armful of goods.
"Nothing to worry about, sir," The guard said, sheathing his weapon. "Your assistant here was attacked by a thief, and I was just checking the premises for his safety," he assured the baker.
"Oh, my. Is everything all right, officer?"
The guard looked back over his should at Hides-in-the-Sun, then back to the baker. "Yes, sir," he answered. "That bastard is probably long gone by now. Don't worry. We'll get ‘em." He slapped Hides-in-the-Sun on the shoulder and grinned at him. "Have a nice day, gentlemen." The guard nodded to the baker, who returned the smile and a thank-you as he showed the guard out.
Hides-in-the-Sun snorted after Jahn closed the door and returned to the counter. "Sunny, I told you not to let anyone behind the counter, let alone the damned law!" he shouted as he ducked down and opened the false floor plank. Inside the small hole were several vials of a milky potion and small bundles wrapped in paper and tied with twine.
Hides-in-the-Sun bowed his head. "I am sorry, master. He forced himself inside."
"Yes, yes, I see that. I suppose we'll have to hide this better, won't we?" the baker said, his happy demeanor returning. Gathering his potions into a sack, he began humming a tune to himself as he carried them back into the kitchen.
"There really was a thief, master, I--"
"There was?!" Jahn turned to Hides-in-the-Sun as if startled. Hides-in-the-Sun nodded. "Hm. I suspected that oaf was just making up a story to get in my bakery. Did he get anything?"
"Uh...who, master?"
"The thief! Did he steal anything?"
"Oh, no, master. The thief were outside, running away from the guard. I was telling the guard I thought I scared him and he run off, but the guard, I don't think he believes me."
"Hmm. So they're not onto us, then?"
Hides-in-the-Sun blinked. "'Onto us,' master?"
"Yes, yes! Have you not been paying attention?!" Jahn gesticulated with the sack.
"Oh--uh, no, master, I don't think so. Onto us, I mean."
"You could have spoken up sooner, you know," the baker said as he returned the contents of the sack to the hidden hole behind the counter. Hides-in-the-Sun nodded, then looked twice when he saw a shadow move in the kitchen in the periphery of his vison. On the second glance, the shadow was gone and all was still.
"So, then, time to tidy up," Jahn sighed and pulled on his apron before heading for the kitchen when Hides-in-the-Sun darted in front of the door and stopped him. "My boy, what are you--?"
"I want to clean up, master--for the trouble I made, I mean."
"Oh. Well, that is kind of you. Good, then. Yes. Um.... What was I doing, then?" The baker held his chin and looked around as though he had lost something.
"You were retiring, master," Hides-in-the-Sun said.
"Retiring? No, not for a few more years yet."
"No, master, you were going to rest."
"Oh, yes. Yes, I recall now. You don't have to remind me. I'm not senile, you know."
"Yes, master--I mean, no, master."
"Right. Good night, Sunny."
"Good night, master."
"Why'd you do that?" asked the Khajiiti girl, who sat on one of the counters and watched Hides-in-the-Sun sweep the floor.
"Do what?" Hides-in-the-Sun asked.
"Hide me."
Hides-in-the-Sun thought back to that moment, which was actually the first time he had even considered what he had done. He recalled the look in the girl's eyes, that sort of confused and frightened look he had seen many times before in his hard life. He had seen it perhaps the most in Toad's eyes.
"I...guess I thought it were right thing to do," he said.
Like most Argonians, Hides-in-the-Sun was unable to make obvious facial expressions, which was why he always appeared grim, and his typically quiet nature did not help matters. The Khajiiti girl, however, took the grim look to mean he did not want to elaborate on the topic under discussion, and thus she tried to change the subject. "Well, thank you. I'm Tsarri."
"What for?"
"What?...No! I'm Tsarri. That's my name."
"Oh." Hides-in-the-Sun nodded. "Sorry."
"Right." Tsarri giggled. "What's your name?"
"Haj--Hides-in-the-Sun."
"That's an...odd name." Tsarri cocked her head to the side. "Is it your real name, or is it just what they call you?"
"A little of both, I guess," Hides-in-the-Sun said simply.
"Kind of a mouthful," Tsarri said, her eyes wandering around the kitchen. "That why the baker calls you 'Sunny'?"
"Yes." He nodded.
"Can I call you Sunny?"
"That is fine," Sunny replied, nodding again.
"You talk kinda funny." She remarked.
"I am still learning. Master teaches me. You talk funny, too."
"For a Khajiit, you mean?" Tsarri asked, "You mean because I have a proper grasp of the language?"
"No, because you are," Sunny paused, thinking of the proper word, "...very odd."
Tsarri grinned, "I grew up in Cyrodiil. I've never even been to Elsweyr. I might like to go someday, though. Visit the Motherland. I take it you grew up in Black Marsh?" Sunny remained silent concerning the subject of his past.
"Sunny." Tsarri chuffed, looking at the serious expression he seemed to wear. "It suits you."
"Was that a funny?" Sunny put away the broom and began rubbing down the countertops with a rag.
The Khajiit grinned again, rolling her head from one side to the other. "What's in the sack in the hidey-hole?"
Sunny suddenly had become very expressive. "That is not for you. That is the master's."
Tsarri looked at Sunny for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, sorry. Well, it's dark enough outside that I think I can make it home. The law has prob'ly forgotten all about me. Thanks for helping me out." She hopped off of the counter, walked up to Sunny, grabbed his face with her hands and planted a kiss on the end of his nose.
"W-w-what--why did you do that?"
"Gee, Sunny, you'd think you'd never been kissed by a girl before." Tsarri pulled Sunny's apron off and, using it as a bag, began filling it with day-old pastries and other sundries. "I didn't know Argonians could even blush."
"We--w-what are you doing?"
"You gave all my food to the guard. Thanks for that, by the way," she said, feigning annoyance. "That stuff was really hard to pinch."
"It did almost got you put into jail," Sunny reminded her. Tsarri froze and stared at him, mouth agape. A smirk slowly curled her lips.
"Guess someone does have a sense of humor," she remarked. Sunny scratched the back of his head. Tsarri purred. "You're pretty cute for a lizard. You know that?"
Sunny was not sure whether to be flattered or offended by the comment. He decided from what he knew of Tsarri that he felt a little bit of both. "...Thank you?" he said uncertainly.
"Welcome. See you tomorrow night, Sun-shine." Tsarri opened the door slowly, wincing at the creaking hinges.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I figure you owe me at least a week's worth of food for all that dosh you gave back. Later!" The door swung closed behind her.
"What an odd kitty-cat," Jahn's voice said from behind Sunny, who nearly toppled into the window display table. "Sorry, lad. Didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled. "Did you have fun with your little friend?"
"I...er...that...uh...."
"Yes, yes, fine, fine. You can go home now, Sunny. My little friends will be arriving shortly." The baker began humming his tune and fetched the sack from the secret spot. "Of course, if you want to hand back your salary, you're more than welcome to stay." Jahn laughed to himself again.
"No, sir, master."
"Don't let me keep you, then. See you tomorrow--*snicker*--'Sun-shine.'"
Sunny left the bakery muttering to himself about names.
"So then--so then *snort* he says to Molag Bal, 'Stop putting words in my mouth!' Ah-hahahahaha!" Jahn slapped his knee. Wiping the tears from his eyes, the baker realized that he was the only one laughing.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," he said, embarrassed. "I forgot you're a--well...have you heard the one about the bullies and the sweetroll?"
"That's all right, Jahn," Beriah said. "Let's just get down to business, shall we?"
Jahn licked his fingertips. "Yes, all right. Here you are, my lady." He took a small paper parcel off the scale and handed it to the lady Dunmer. "I must say, you are perhaps my best customer. I'm amazed you can even still remember my name anymore, as fast as you go through this stuff. And it is only you, all alone in that little house, isn't it?" The baker smiled sweetly.
"I live there alone, yes. That's not to say I spend my nights alone, Jahn." She winked and touched her finger to her nose.
Jahn chuckled, "Oh-ho-ho, too true, my sweet. Well, you must be very popular, then!"
"Too popular for you, baker," Beriah grinned. "Oh, before I forget again, I didn't pay your man this morning. Here's the house cut, and a little something for Sunny. Make sure he gets it for me?"
Jahn scooped up the money. "Will do, m'dear."
"Thanks. See you next time."
"Buh-bye, then." Jahn whistled rather than hummed his tune then as he dropped the money for the pastries into the till and the money for Sunny into his own pocket. After stashing his ingredients in a new location, lest that Khajiiti thief from yesterday makes well on her promise to return, the baker returned to his kitchen just as the moons began to dip under the horizon.
He clapped his hands together. "Time to make the sweetrolls! Hee-hee-ha! Ha-ha-ho!"
It was still very dark as Beriah walked home. The sky was just beginning to gray with morning light. She breathed evenly as she walked a brisk pace, trying to keep herself calm while in a hurry. She stopped then and nearly dropped her parcel from the bakery when she saw a familiar shape dart through the darkness. She stared hard at the shadows, which had frozen once again. Okay, Berry, the Dunmer thought to herself, You're just being paranoid. She bit her lip hard, her breathing coming faster, her heart rate accelerating, and ran the rest of the way home.
Just as the first batch of baked goods was coming out of the oven, Jahn heard the door chimes announce the arrival of his assisstant. Still draped in a hood and cloak, Sunny shuffled over to the oven and held his hands up to the heat.
"Just in time, my boy," Jahn said as he sprinkled sugar over the cakes. "These need to go out front."
Sunny traded his hood and cloak for an apron and arranged the pastries on a platter, which he then set in the front window display.
"Fetch the flour from out back, lad. I'm almost out of it."
"Yes, master," Sunny mumbled and went outside to the scullery shed. He snorted when an unpleasant odor hit him as he opened the door. Lighting the candle in the holder by the door, he was amazed to find Tsarri curled up on the cold stone floor hugging a bucket. When the cold outside air from the open door hit her, she moaned and curled tighter.
"Tsarri?" Sunny called, carrying the candle over to Tsarri to get a better look at her. Looking in the bucket, he saw the cause of the noisome smell and clamped a hand over his nose. "What happened?"
"Ugh...Sunny? 'Ssat you?"
"Yes. What is wrong? What are you doing here?"
"I got hungry--*urp!*--uhhn," the Khajiiti girl moaned, "so I snuck in here. I found some jerky, but I don't think it was good jerky. My stomach really hurts."
Jahn's voice came from the door: "Sunny! What's keeping you--oh, by the Nine, what is that smell?!"
"Master," Sunny called, turning toward the voice, "the girl from before night, she is sick!"
"Well, what do you want me to do about it? I'm a baker!" Jahn stood over them.
"Help get her inside," Sunny said, sticking his arms under Tsarri's.
"I'm not bringing a sick cat-girl in my kitchen!"
Sunny shot Jahn an angry look as he began dragging Tsarri toward the back door of the kitchen. The baker sighed and lifted the Khajiit's feet. "Oh, my back!" he groaned. "I'm getting too old for this--"
Tsarri's eyes suddenly grew large, as did her cheeks.
*HORK!*
Jahn's face twisted in horror. "Oh, no. Oh, I--"
*BLAP!*
"Sunny," he moaned, "...get the--*urp!*--mop...."
Several minutes later, Sunny had finished dragging both Tsarri and Jahn into the kitchen. He gave each of them a bucket and a rag, then went to the closet to find the mop when someone began pounding on the front door of the bakery.
"Sunny?" Jahn muttered. "Customer. Look alive...ugh...."
Sunny sighed and went to the front, where he unlocked and answered the door.
"Ah, good morning!" the guard from the other day greeted him, grinning. "Mm, something smells good in there!"
"Good--uh--good morning, officer," Sunny said loudly, hoping Jahn and Tsarri would hear him.
"Still hot from the oven, eh?" the guard said, looking at the steaming buns in the window. "Good. Am I your first customer of the morning?"
"Yes, sir, officer, sir," Sunny nodded.
"Got my pick of the litter then, don't I?"
"We only have done the display cakes, sir."
"Oh, well, they're still for sale, aren't they?"
"Uh...yes, sir, they are."
"Where's the baker?"
"Baking, sir." Sunny stepped behind the counter and fetched some paper and twine.
"Oh. Having any trouble with that thief?"
"Sir?" One good thing about being an Argonian among Imperials, Sunny suddenly thought, was that he had an excellent face for bluffing.
"The thief? She come back?"
Sunny blinked at this and was caught off guard. "It were a man, I were sure, officer."
"Right. What did I say?" The guard inspected the pastries.
"'She,' sir."
"Did I? Hm. Slip-o'-the-tongue, I suppose." The guard smirked. "I'll take this one, with the sugar."
"Yes, sir." Sunny reached for the cake the guard had selected, but the guard picked it up before Sunny could touch it.
"No, no, I don't need it wrapped. I'll eat it on my rounds. His Terrible Majesty has us starting earlier and earlier every morning, it seems."
Sunny only nodded at the officer. The guard tossed him a coin, saying, "See you 'round, Sunny." With that, he chuckled and left, closing the door a bit too hard behind him. Sunny hissed something and put the coin in the till, then returned to the kitchen.
"That bastard from the other day?" Jahn asked, having finally gotten to his feet.
"Yes, master," Sunny replied grimly.
"Hm." The baker squinted and stuck out his chin. "I'm going upstairs to get cleaned up. Make sure she doesn't make a mess. And clean up outside, please."
"Yes, master." Sunny nodded and got his mop.
"Hey, Sunshine," Tsarri said. She was sitting up now.
"You are looking...better," he said.
"Yeah. Jahn gave me something for the tummy troubles." The cat-girl licked her lips. "Sorry 'bout the mess," she said.
Sunny scoffed at the apology.
Tsarri frowned. "I mean it. I was just so hungry, and I didn't know where else to get food from, and it seemed like everyone in this damn town was lookin' for me."
Sunny hissed and muttered again as he mopped the floor.
"Are you mad at me?"
"I do not know who I am mad at. I am just...mad." Sunny sighed in exasperation. He then took his mop and bucket, tried to open the door with them in hand, and ended up spilling some of the dirty water on himself and the floor. With a growl of rage he threw the mop and bucket out the door and stamped his feet. Then he went outside and slammed the door behind him.
Tsarri crawled to the door and opened it before calling after him, "Where are you going?"
"I don't know!" Sunny yelled back. "Outside!" He waved his arms around, as though gesturing to the outdoors. "It is cold. Maybe I will freeze and die!" He then stalked off down a narrow alley between the bakery and the neighboring building and was gone.
"What was that about?" Jahn asked as he walked back into the kitchen in fresh clothes.
"I have no idea. I think maybe he's feeling a bit under-appreciated," Tsarri guessed.
"That boy needs a good lay, that's all," Jahn said, then added after a moment of thought, "...or a poo."
Tsarri looked up at the baker. "You're an odd little man."
Jahn frowned. "Looks like I'm short one sous chef." A cheerful smile then spread across his face as an idea occurred to him. "My dear, have you ever baked before?"
"We are nearly there, Toad. I can smell food and see smoke from the cooking fires. Toad?"
Hides-in-the-Sun looked back at his friend, who had slumped against a tree. He was not moving. He also no longer appeared to be breathing.
"Toad? Toad!" Hides-in-the-Sun shook Little-Toad, but the small Argonian was unresponsive.
Hides-in-the-Sun bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. He began to heave with deep, ragged breaths. He raised his head, fists clenched, the claws on his toes digging into the soft earth. Finally, he unleashed a primal roar of angry sorrow to the heavens.
Hides-in-the-Sun wandered the short distance, less than a mile, into the Cyrodiilic town. He walked/stumbled past a sign he could not read, then collapsed in the middle of the street. He sensed people all around him. He felt their footsteps approaching through the ground and heard them speaking in a language he could not understand. The tone of their voices, however, did not require him to know the words to know what was said. Then there was one voice, not of an Argonian, but of one who spoke his words.
"Are you all right, Man of the Root?" the voice kindly inquired, then said in the alien tongue to someone else, "Summon a healer, quickly!"
Hides-in-the-Sun felt hands on him then, rolling him onto his back. A face hovered into view, blocking the brilliant sun. It was of a pale man with short, silver hair, which was balding on top, and a neatly groomed moustache. He smelled like baking flour.
"Sunny?" The man asked, his voice like a distant echo.
"Sunny?" The voice was different. Now it was a smokey, female voice. The Argonian looked up and saw Beriah standing almost across the street from where he sat in the narrow space between two buildings.
"What are you doing there?" The Dark Elf inquired with a quizzical expression.
"I...must have gone asleep." Sunny said, standing. He looked at the sky. It was a bright, almost cloudless day. He could tell from the sun it was late in the morning.
"Here? Why aren't you at the bakery?"
"I needed a...time for myself."
"Oh." Beriah nodded sympathetically as her fingers nervously played with the laces of her corsetted blouse.
"I must go back now. Good-bye, Miss Beriah."
"Bye, Sunny."
Some time later...
The Bakery
"all right, kitten, turn it this way."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me. I've done this many times."
"Um...okay. I think it's stuck."
"You might have to force it a little--*gasp*--gently! Gently. It's a tight fit sometimes."
"Jahn, I don't think it'll--oh!"
"There you go! See, I told you. That's why you butter it first."
"Oh, that's nice."
"I think so, too."
"What else can we do?"
"My, aren't we the eager pupil?"
"Ha! You said 'wee'!"
"...How old did you say you were, again?"
"I don't think I've ever had so much fun, Jahn."
"Well, I do have some experience in these matters. Hand me the book. Hm...."
"Ooh! I want to do that one!"
"Really? I haven't done that in a long time."
"Please?"
"Oh, how can I say 'no' to you?"
"Yay!"
"Uh...all right. You know, Sunny never wants to do this with me."
"Really? Why not?"
"I don't know. I don't think he has much confidence in his--don't lick that, dear. It's dirty."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. Here, you can lick this, if you need a taste so bad."
"Mmm. It's good!"
"I know. That's my favorite part, too."
"I still can't believe I did that."
"Believe it, my sweet. You did very well for your first time, too, might I add. And that's a lot, coming from me."
"Well, thank you, sir."
"No, no, thank you!"
Tsarri gasped then when she heard the chimes of the front door opening. She and Jahn both turned to see Sunny standing in the kitchen doorway, staring with wide eyes. "Master? Tsarri? What are you doing?" he questioned.
Tsarri and Jahn looked at each other, then at Sunny again. "Baking," Tsarri answered and licked some icing off of her finger. She stepped aside and gestured proudly to her bundt cake, which Jahn was still frosting.
"Isn't it pretty?" Tsarri asked with a grin after the old baker finished frosting the cake. "You want a piece?"
"I don't believe we've ever had a busier day," Jahn declared, removing his apron and wiping his sweaty brow with a shirt sleeve. It was dark outside, and Sunny was locking the front door after the last of the customers had filed out. He then hung the Closed sign in the window and headed into the kitchen to join the others.
"It's a good thing you were here, Tsarri, or we might still be serving people," Jahn said to Tsarri with a grin as he shut and locked the till box.
"Glad I could help," Tsarri replied sweetly between bites of a sweetroll dusted in plenty of sugar. She was covered in flour.
"It was a good day," Sunny agreed, nodding.
"I don't know why we were so popular, though," Jahn wondered aloud. "People weren't even picky; they took whatever we offered them. It's as if these things were"--Jahn suddenly spied a bag on the counter--"...addictive." Quickly he moved to the bag and looked inside. It was all but empty, just a dusting of sugar at the bottom. He licked a finger tip, dipped his finger into the dust, and licked it off. His eyes grew large.
"Tsarri, my sweet, where did you get this bag?"
"I dunno," the cat girl replied in a singsong voice as she shrugged exaggeratedly. A panic came over Jahn. He grabbed the sweetroll out of Tsarri's hand and tasted it. "Hey! I would'a shared-ed!"
"By Sithis!" Jahn gripped Tsarri's face and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were as large as gold Septims. "She's barmy as a--well...as a Khajiit."
"What's 'barmy' mean?" Tsarri asked, reaching for her sweetroll.
"What happened, Jahn?" Sunny asked.
"No wonder my cakes were so popular!" Jahn fumed. "She just dosed the whole town with Moon Sugar--a supply that was meant to last me a month, no less!"
There was a tapping at the front door, and Sunny sighed and went to answer it.
"What are you doing?! It might be the law! Don't answer it!" Jahn cried. Sunny returned to the kitchen with Beriah. "Oh. Hello, my dear."
"Hello, Jahn," smiled the Dunmer. "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
"If you want any, Fluffy over there is going to have to puke it all up. She's eating the last of it."
"Hi, lady!" Tsarri squeaked, waving emphatically to Beriah.
"All of it?" Beriah questioned, returning the wave half-heartedly. Her brow was knitted in concern.
"Her and the rest of the damned town," Jahn growled. "I'm ruined!" With the final word, he kicked a bucket across the room, sending it crashing into the dirty bowls and pans.
"Loud noises!" Tsarri cried, covering her ears.
"Would you please get her out of here, Sunny, before I figure out just how many ways there are to skin a cat?!"
"Yes, master," Sunny said and picked Tsarri up by the waist. The Khajiit's voice carried back into the kitchen as the Argonian carried her out the back door:
"Whoa! I think this shit's really kickin' in! I'm flying! Whee! Holy crap! Is that a big-ass tiger hea--? Nope, just a rock. Faster, faster, Sunny the magic dragon! Higher! Whee--!"
*SLAM!*
Beriah jumped when Jahn slammed the door. She had never seen Jahn angry before. "Can't you get any more?" she asked.
"No!" Jahn shouted as he stomped around the room, gesticulating wildly with his arms. "Like I said, it was a month's supply! I'm not scheduled to meet with my suppliers for another month! By then, all my customers will have new suppliers! I'm ruined! Do you have any idea how much it costs to run a bakery? Why do you think I sell this stuff?!"
"Well, screaming about it and throwing a baby tantrum isn't going to help," Beriah offered. "Calm down and let's think about this. Can't you get--I don't know--a message to them or something?"
"I don't know. I guess I could get the word out. But there's no telling when--or if--they'd get it. And then there's supply to worry about. I'll probably end up paying twice as much--" Jahn suddenly stopped talking and looked at Beriah with a grin.
Beriah held up her hands and began backing away. "Jahn? Why are you looking at me like that? You're scaring me...."
"I bet I know where I could find some sugar! Maybe not a lot, but maybe enough."
"Where?"
"Wheee-Eeeee!"
Jahn and Beriah looked up as a naked Tsarri ran by the front window with Sunny in pursuit. Beriah then noticed Jahn was still holding onto the half-eaten sweetroll.
"Um, Jahn...," she began.
"Huh?" the baker murmured, still staring at the window.
"...are you going to eat that?" she continued.
Jahn looked at the pastry and rolled his eyes, "Here." He handed her the sweetroll.
"Thank you. Mm, the little cream-filled kind."
"Are you sure this is best place to find sugar, master?" Sunny inquired doubtfully.
"You have a better idea?" Jahn snapped. "Come on, you two." He motioned Sunny and Tsarri to follow him as they sidled along the exterior wall of the jail.
"All right, Tsarri, do your thing," Jahn instructed. The Khajiiti girl (clothed once again) knelt before the door and began picking the lock. Two minutes later, she still had not made any progress.
"I don't know what's wrong," she whispered. "Maybe I've lost my touch."
"Wait," Sunny whispered and tried the door, which opened. Tsarri smiled sheepishly.
"Okay. Time for you to prove you've earned your name, my boy," Jahn said to Sunny.
"But it is dark outside, master," Sunny pointed out.
The baker looked to Sunny as if ready to say something, then he paused and smiled. "Did you just make a joke? I think that's the first time you've ever shown a sense of humor."
Sunny titled his head, appearing to smile. "I am very sneaky that way, master."
"Let's hope you're sneaky in other ways. After you, sirrah."
Sunny led the trio through the narrow corridors of the jail, staying behind the patrolling guards.
"Is it just me, or do all these guys look the same?" Tsarri whispered.
"Shh!" Sunny hissed.
As the guard rounded the corner, the sound of his footsteps growing more faint, the three crept to the evidence locker. Before sticking her picks in the lock, Tsarri tried opening the coffer. It was locked tight. Tsarri shrugged and mouthed Worth a shot. A few moments later the lock was sprung and the chest opened, and inside....
There were the few pieces of jewelry and clothing Tsarri had stolen the previous day, the very same articles Sunny had given to the guard in the hopes of protecting the Khajiit, as well as a few other bits and pieces from other petty thievings.
A familiar voice broke the silence: "I suppose I should thank you for saving me the trip when I came to fetch you three tomorrow morning."
The bakers turned around slowly to see (who else?) the guard who had been after Tsarri.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me! Really? This is how it ends?!" Jahn shouted to no one in particular.
"'Fraid so, old man," said the guard. "Honestly, how stupid do you think the Legion is? Sneaking into a prison. You three must be the worst Sugar dealers I have ever seen, especially after today's little stunt. Nicely done, by the way," the guard remarked sarcastically. "Healers from three towns had to be carted in to deal with the aftermath of your little--"
"Run away!" Tsarri suddenly screamed and took off for the front door. The other two took the advice and ran in opposite directions.
"Son of a--!" the guard began and took off after the criminals. He almost immediately caught Jahn by the collar, pulling the old man to the ground.
"Ah! My hip!" Jahn cried.
Some time later...
The Wilderness
"Tsarri?" Sunny hissed in the darkness of the woods. "Hsst! Tsarri!"
"You're forgiven," said Tsarri's voice, identified by her unmistakable laugh as Sunny turned to face her. "You'd think I'd get tired of that joke...."
"Jahn did not make it."
"Yeah." Tsarri frowned and shrugged. "Yanno, I know he was, like, your father-figure or whatever, but I think: better him than us, right?"
At first Sunny wanted to take offense to the comment, but he realized he was not offended. Instead, he felt...liberated, for the first time in his life, perhaps. Instead, he uttered a relieved sigh and nodded in agreement.
"So," Tsarri said, looking around at nothing in particular.
"Yes. Well. I must go back to the bakery, get my things."
"Yeah. So, what're you gonna do now that you're a wanted felon?"
"Not the first time." The Argonian looked down at his feet. "Valenwood is nice, I hear. You are welcome to come."
"Yeah, uh, we Khajiit and the Wood Elves? Not so much." Tsarri shook her head.
"Oh. Right. Yes."
"Besides, I'm too young for you." Tsarri smiled, stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Sunny's nose. "See you 'round, maybe."
"Yes, I hope so. Goodbye, Tsarri."
"'Bye." She waved, and then bounded through the trees and was gone.
Beriah snorted awake when she heard the telltale bell downstairs and the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs to the small apartment above the bakery, where she had been waiting for the others to return. She was relieved at first when it was Sunny who walked into the room, but then she realized he was the only one.
"Sunny? What happened?"
"Tsarri is gone. We think Jahn were caught."
"Oh. That's too bad. So, what's going to happen?"
"I do not know," Sunny sighed. "I will leave. I cannot any longer stay here."
Beriah nodded. "What's going to happen to this place, do you think?"
Sunny shrugged, then cocked his head to one side and looked at the Dunmer. "Miss Beriah, have you ever baked before?"
Beriah stood behind the counter of the bakery. From the Open sign in the window hung another sign, Under New Management. It had been a slow day so far. Even the morning breakfast rush Jahn had normally encountered had been unusually light. The Dunmer assumed people were still a bit wary of the place after the Sugar Incident.
With the toe of her shoe, she began tapping a steady rhythm to a song in her head. She leaned on the counter and shifted her feet, trying to ward off the ache she knew she would have later tonight, and when she did she noticed that the sound of her toe-tapping had changed. When she tapped harder on the planks underfoot, she realized they were loose. Bending down, out of curiosity to ward off boredom, she pulled the boards out of the way. Her eyes widened considerably when she saw what was in the hole beneath the floor.
"That old, cheap, coin-pinching bastard." Beriah laughed to herself. There was a chime then as the door opened, and she stood with a warm smile to greet her new customer.
"Good morning," she said, cheerily.