That’s what makes him come home early from a quest.
That’s what makes him sneak into his own house in the dark of the night.
By some Divine’s intervention, the house is blessedly silent. Eified isn’t sure what he would do if… if… fuck, he can’t even think it. Instead, he slithers up the steps and to his room, cracking the door open without a sound and peeking inside.
The bed is empty.
Eified wants to scream.
Wants to shout and cry and throw magic around like a child, but he forces himself to turn away and walk back to Lydia’s door. Bile is rising like a tidal wave in the back of his throat, but he keeps it down through pure force of will and opens the door, silent as a ghost. And there is his husband, pale limbs entangled tightly with Lydia’s, blond hair an ethereal wave of silk in the moonlight. Eified wonders what is worse: that his husband is cheating on him with his most trusted companion, or that he still finds the man appealing even then.
He slowly closes the door, then wanders down the steps in a daze. When Eified reaches the bottom, he takes in his home, a little cramped, yes, and a little messy, to be expected, and jolts in surprise as hot, angry tears start streaming down his face. His sobs are silent as he settles into his usual spot at the table, facing the stairs, and waits.
It seems like days, though in reality its only hours, before the sound of movement begins to echo down. He hears their voices, words muffled and indistinct, but tenderness clear in every lilting syllable. It almost makes him cry again, but Eified is feeling strange. Disjointed and empty.
Angry.
Anger is what keeps him strong when the couple scamper playfully down the stairs, only to freeze in shock at the sight of him. Eified wonders what he must look like, wild and angry and so desperately betrayed, but he doesn’t really want to know.
Eified watches as guilt washes across their faces like a physical blow, and Lydia has the nerve to step forward, hands held out in a placating manner. “My Thane-”
“Get out,” Eified snaps, eyeing Lydia like she’s a piece of shit stuck to his boot.
Guilty as he is, Argis perks with indignation and even Lydia looks like she might protest. Eified knows why; it’s still early, the sun has barely pierced the horizon, and Skyrim is on the verge of winter. Nord or no, dressed as she is in only a ratty loose pair of breeches and a shirt that is far too big to be hers, Lydia is in no condition to be outside.
For the first time in his life, Eified can’t find an ounce of compassion within himself. “Get out,” he snarls, voice roiling with an ancient, inhuman force that makes Lydia pale with fright.
She’s out the door so fast she almost leaves a cloud of dust in her wake.
Argis is a little pale himself, brows furrowed into a small canyon that, as usual, sends a little pang of fondness through Eified’s heart. And fuck that makes the mer hate himself all the more.
Re: Duty Bound (5/6)
That’s what makes him sneak into his own house in the dark of the night.
By some Divine’s intervention, the house is blessedly silent. Eified isn’t sure what he would do if… if… fuck, he can’t even think it. Instead, he slithers up the steps and to his room, cracking the door open without a sound and peeking inside.
The bed is empty.
Eified wants to scream.
Wants to shout and cry and throw magic around like a child, but he forces himself to turn away and walk back to Lydia’s door. Bile is rising like a tidal wave in the back of his throat, but he keeps it down through pure force of will and opens the door, silent as a ghost. And there is his husband, pale limbs entangled tightly with Lydia’s, blond hair an ethereal wave of silk in the moonlight. Eified wonders what is worse: that his husband is cheating on him with his most trusted companion, or that he still finds the man appealing even then.
He slowly closes the door, then wanders down the steps in a daze. When Eified reaches the bottom, he takes in his home, a little cramped, yes, and a little messy, to be expected, and jolts in surprise as hot, angry tears start streaming down his face. His sobs are silent as he settles into his usual spot at the table, facing the stairs, and waits.
It seems like days, though in reality its only hours, before the sound of movement begins to echo down. He hears their voices, words muffled and indistinct, but tenderness clear in every lilting syllable. It almost makes him cry again, but Eified is feeling strange. Disjointed and empty.
Angry.
Anger is what keeps him strong when the couple scamper playfully down the stairs, only to freeze in shock at the sight of him. Eified wonders what he must look like, wild and angry and so desperately betrayed, but he doesn’t really want to know.
Eified watches as guilt washes across their faces like a physical blow, and Lydia has the nerve to step forward, hands held out in a placating manner. “My Thane-”
“Get out,” Eified snaps, eyeing Lydia like she’s a piece of shit stuck to his boot.
Guilty as he is, Argis perks with indignation and even Lydia looks like she might protest. Eified knows why; it’s still early, the sun has barely pierced the horizon, and Skyrim is on the verge of winter. Nord or no, dressed as she is in only a ratty loose pair of breeches and a shirt that is far too big to be hers, Lydia is in no condition to be outside.
For the first time in his life, Eified can’t find an ounce of compassion within himself. “Get out,” he snarls, voice roiling with an ancient, inhuman force that makes Lydia pale with fright.
She’s out the door so fast she almost leaves a cloud of dust in her wake.
Argis is a little pale himself, brows furrowed into a small canyon that, as usual, sends a little pang of fondness through Eified’s heart. And fuck that makes the mer hate himself all the more.