“So how's Argis?” Elisif asked Karliah, feeling a bit guilty for not checking in him. “Last I saw, he was arguing with Madanach over his choice of partner, like it's any of Madanach's business.”
Karliah hesitated, looking a bit guilty over something, and when she did speak, it was rather slowly, as if she were choosing her words very carefully.
“That one is complicated and always going to be,” Karliah said softly. “But last I saw they were sorting it out. I can't say Madanach approves, but he told Argis he wasn't going to object so long as Farkas didn't break his heart. I don't think you need worry.”
All the same, Elisif did. Who else did Argis have? No siblings she knew of, his mother dead, just a Forsworn father who presumably must be on this camp somewhere for the blood charm to have worked. Elisif wondered if Argis had even seen the man – he'd not gone far from the command area, Madanach's central compound. Was he one of the High Command perhaps? A Cidhna Mine inmate – yes, that would make sense if Argis had been a guard acting as secret Forsworn liaison, but which one? Not Odvan or Duach, both younger than Argis. Uraccen maybe, but he didn't really look anything like Argis and was a little too young – forty-nine compared to Argis's thirty-five. Braig – he'd talked about his daughter but never mentioned a son, right sort of age though so maybe. The only other option was Madanach himself but surely not, he'd never fancy a Nord... oh. Oh!
Oh sweet gods. Madanach hadn't just sent any old half-Nord Forsworn agent to guard her. He'd sent his own son, a son presumably no one knew about for obvious reasons. Hadn't Argis said his father occasionally gave speeches? Hadn't she thought Argis looked familiar, sensed hidden depths of cunning to the man, hadn't he reminded her of Madanach on occasion? Keirine had told him to use her first name – she must have known he was her nephew. And of course, hadn't he said his blood would be where the King was? Because Madanach was his bloody father.
No wonder that argument had got so personal. That hadn't been a king arguing with a subordinate, that had been a father arguing with his son. No one else would have spoken to Madanach like that, and he'd have killed anyone not his close kin who'd tried.
Complicated indeed. She'd have to talk to Argis about it. Maybe in the morning.
“What time is it?” she asked. The light seemed to be fading so must be sunset or near enough.
“Twilight,” Erandur answered. “Aranea's probably doing her Evening Invocation to Azura right now.”
For someone who claimed he was called to celibacy, he was doing a terrible job of not noticing Aranea's daily routine.
“We should go,” Elisif sighed. “I suppose I have to talk to Madanach and see if we still have an alliance.”
“You still do,” Karliah soothed as she helped Elisif up. “You are allowed to say no, he'll understand. He's not completely unreasonable.”
“Just mostly then,” Elisif said, holding the tent flap open for the two Dunmer as they all emerged into the early evening. Time to face down the Reach-King. Again. She really wasn't looking forward to this.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 28.8
Karliah hesitated, looking a bit guilty over something, and when she did speak, it was rather slowly, as if she were choosing her words very carefully.
“That one is complicated and always going to be,” Karliah said softly. “But last I saw they were sorting it out. I can't say Madanach approves, but he told Argis he wasn't going to object so long as Farkas didn't break his heart. I don't think you need worry.”
All the same, Elisif did. Who else did Argis have? No siblings she knew of, his mother dead, just a Forsworn father who presumably must be on this camp somewhere for the blood charm to have worked. Elisif wondered if Argis had even seen the man – he'd not gone far from the command area, Madanach's central compound. Was he one of the High Command perhaps? A Cidhna Mine inmate – yes, that would make sense if Argis had been a guard acting as secret Forsworn liaison, but which one? Not Odvan or Duach, both younger than Argis. Uraccen maybe, but he didn't really look anything like Argis and was a little too young – forty-nine compared to Argis's thirty-five. Braig – he'd talked about his daughter but never mentioned a son, right sort of age though so maybe. The only other option was Madanach himself but surely not, he'd never fancy a Nord... oh. Oh!
Oh sweet gods. Madanach hadn't just sent any old half-Nord Forsworn agent to guard her. He'd sent his own son, a son presumably no one knew about for obvious reasons. Hadn't Argis said his father occasionally gave speeches? Hadn't she thought Argis looked familiar, sensed hidden depths of cunning to the man, hadn't he reminded her of Madanach on occasion? Keirine had told him to use her first name – she must have known he was her nephew. And of course, hadn't he said his blood would be where the King was? Because Madanach was his bloody father.
No wonder that argument had got so personal. That hadn't been a king arguing with a subordinate, that had been a father arguing with his son. No one else would have spoken to Madanach like that, and he'd have killed anyone not his close kin who'd tried.
Complicated indeed. She'd have to talk to Argis about it. Maybe in the morning.
“What time is it?” she asked. The light seemed to be fading so must be sunset or near enough.
“Twilight,” Erandur answered. “Aranea's probably doing her Evening Invocation to Azura right now.”
For someone who claimed he was called to celibacy, he was doing a terrible job of not noticing Aranea's daily routine.
“We should go,” Elisif sighed. “I suppose I have to talk to Madanach and see if we still have an alliance.”
“You still do,” Karliah soothed as she helped Elisif up. “You are allowed to say no, he'll understand. He's not completely unreasonable.”
“Just mostly then,” Elisif said, holding the tent flap open for the two Dunmer as they all emerged into the early evening. Time to face down the Reach-King. Again. She really wasn't looking forward to this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes on the Rhanic :
Rhanteg - Reachfolk
Tegmai - my people
Gearcheim y canolan - midlife crisis