The innkeeper smiled at her but gave Ondolemar a suspicious glare. “Coming right up, Hryssa.” Oh, so the woman did have a name. Of course she had. She was a perfectly normal human, they all had names. His thoughts an irritating babble that he couldn’t get rid of. She still had her hand at the small of his back as she firmly but at the same time softly pushed him in front of her towards a table in a corner. They sat down, facing each other across the table and she reached him one of the bottles. She was leaning forward, her elbows on the table-top, sipping nonchalantly from her bottle while studying his face. Ondolemar tried to ignore her piercing eyes, looked away in a pretended interest of what was going on around him in the room. Not that the cared, but this really was something different than Markarth during the day. He put the bottle to his lips and tasted the content. Horribly sweet, but not as bad as he’d thought. “So. Your name is Hryssa”, he started, just to get rid of this pressing silence between them, “you are a Nord, a lycanthrope and, from what I’ve heard, the Dragonborn.” “And you are Ondolemar, an Altmer, a Thalmor justiciar and from what I’ve heard a pretty sharp mage. Lavender, dear, let’s keep the mystery and talk about other things”, she purred. This was slightly confusing and in a highly disturbing way quite arousing. Ondolemar tried to relax in his chair, swallowed down a couple of big gulps of mead and looked back at her. “Other things. Like what? The ongoing civil war, the hostilities between Nords and Forsworn, the greed that forces this hold into bloody wars over silver?” He couldn’t help but sounding a bit snarky. “I hardly think those things interest you”, Hryssa said with a crooked smile. “And to be honest, it doesn’t amuse me either.” She sighed, leaned her chin in her hand and looked up towards the ceiling. There was another moment of silence and then she returned her gaze to him. “If you could only pick one, what would you prefer: your prolonged life or your pool of magica?” “What?” Ondolemar chuckled, his eyebrows raised. What a strange question! “Think before you answer, Lavender. And please, tell me the reason for your answer.” “Why?” This just got more and more curious, and to be honest he enjoyed it. He hadn’t been this surprised from a conversation in a very long time. “Because it will tell me more about you than names and titles”, she said, looking at him under heavy eyelids.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: What happens in Markarth stays in Markarth 6
Date: 2015-08-05 03:28 pm (UTC)Oh, so the woman did have a name. Of course she had. She was a perfectly normal human, they all had names. His thoughts an irritating babble that he couldn’t get rid of.
She still had her hand at the small of his back as she firmly but at the same time softly pushed him in front of her towards a table in a corner. They sat down, facing each other across the table and she reached him one of the bottles. She was leaning forward, her elbows on the table-top, sipping nonchalantly from her bottle while studying his face. Ondolemar tried to ignore her piercing eyes, looked away in a pretended interest of what was going on around him in the room. Not that the cared, but this really was something different than Markarth during the day. He put the bottle to his lips and tasted the content. Horribly sweet, but not as bad as he’d thought.
“So. Your name is Hryssa”, he started, just to get rid of this pressing silence between them, “you are a Nord, a lycanthrope and, from what I’ve heard, the Dragonborn.”
“And you are Ondolemar, an Altmer, a Thalmor justiciar and from what I’ve heard a pretty sharp mage. Lavender, dear, let’s keep the mystery and talk about other things”, she purred.
This was slightly confusing and in a highly disturbing way quite arousing. Ondolemar tried to relax in his chair, swallowed down a couple of big gulps of mead and looked back at her. “Other things. Like what? The ongoing civil war, the hostilities between Nords and Forsworn, the greed that forces this hold into bloody wars over silver?” He couldn’t help but sounding a bit snarky.
“I hardly think those things interest you”, Hryssa said with a crooked smile. “And to be honest, it doesn’t amuse me either.” She sighed, leaned her chin in her hand and looked up towards the ceiling. There was another moment of silence and then she returned her gaze to him. “If you could only pick one, what would you prefer: your prolonged life or your pool of magica?”
“What?” Ondolemar chuckled, his eyebrows raised. What a strange question!
“Think before you answer, Lavender. And please, tell me the reason for your answer.”
“Why?” This just got more and more curious, and to be honest he enjoyed it. He hadn’t been this surprised from a conversation in a very long time.
“Because it will tell me more about you than names and titles”, she said, looking at him under heavy eyelids.