Sithis help him. And here he was thinking his days of dealing with drunks were mostly behind him.
“It's that way,” he said, pointing in the vague direction of the one he'd assigned Elisif. Easy enough to find, none of the others had a dragon skull mounted on the roof.
Silence. Then...
“It's too dark! They keep moving... Madanach, please help me!”
He could see he wasn't getting out of this one.
“Fine, I shall escort you back to your bed, and then I am leaving you there and returning to my maudlin self-pitying.”
“... OK.” Confusion in her voice and clearly she was at that stage of drunkenness where complicated phrases were a bit beyond her. Madanach got to his feet, and then he belatedly recalled how jenever worked. It got you drunk from the feet up. You could drink lots of it and feel fine... until you tried to get up.
He got up, staggered round the log, felt the world spin and then he was face down in the grass, just about managing to break his fall with his hands.
Ah. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. Yes, moving was a terrible idea, he should just stay here on the ground until the world stopped moving and it all went away.
“Mad'nach? Mad'nach, why are you on the ground?” Elisif had crawled over, poking at him, looking concerned and a bit annoyed. “You were going to help me find my tent!”
“Well, I changed my mind,” Madanach growled. “Gonna stay here instead. Can't you find your own way home?”
“It's your camp!” Elisif snapped. “An' I'm a girl, you can't let pretty girls go home drunk on their own. It's no' right.”
Madanach glared, seeing her point but also feeling there was something rather unfair about this situation.
“Wha', so jus' because I'mma man, I gotta take care o' you when yer drunk?”
“Yes!” Elisif said firmly, folding her arms, seeming pleased. “Is the shiv-walrus thing to do.”
“That'sh notta word.”
“It so ish! Means yourra good person who helpsh people, anna brave an' noble warrior.”
Madanach was fairly certain he wasn't one of those any more. In fact...
“Ishn't that supposed to be your job?”
That got her, and while Elisif clearly wasn't entirely convinced of his reasoning, her drunken brain was having trouble working out why she shouldn't be. Time to push his point.
“In fact, I'm an old man, you're a young and strong warrior, you should be helping me home.” Madanach held out an arm expectantly. “Maybe I need a big, strong Nord warrior to look after me, hmm?”
“You hate Nords,” Elisif said, utterly bewildered by now.
“Don't hate 'em all,” Madanach shrugged. “Don't hate you. It was jusht the Shilver-Bloods really, but they're all dead. An' Ulfric an' his lot, an we're gonna kill them tomorrow. Don't care about the rest of them. Aela'sh all right and Vilkash ish tol'rable and Farkash is OK as long as he makes my Argiz happy and doesna break his heart, and Brynjolf's fine ash long as he keepsh his hands to himself, and... an' Inga was nice.” Wistful look came into his eyes as he remembered Inga, staring at him as he was lying on the ground, injured and dying, sole survivor of a skirmish. Inga had been out hunting, found him and her healing potions had saved his life. First and only Nord to ever be nice to him (until Elisif anyway), she'd nursed him back to health and apparently fallen in love with him. Hadn't done her any favours, although he'd almost thought about staying, leaving the Reachmen behind him. He'd only been a young man – talented warrior, brilliant young mage, engaged to the chief's daughter but only a minor player back then. He could easily have left it all behind... but he had a feeling Mireen would find him eventually. So he'd said goodbye and gone home, not knowing he'd left her pregnant.
That poor innocent woman had not deserved him, although he could never regret bringing Argis into the world.
“Do you miss her?” Elisif said quietly, kneeling next to him and putting his arm around her shoulders. Madanach let her pull him up, snuggling in next to her and nodding.
“She was nice. A good person. Not like me. Don't think it would have lasted. But I did care. Do care. Fuck it. El'zif, when you get to Shovn – Sovin – the afterlife, you give her a hug from me and tell her I'm shorry.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 29.9
Date: 2014-05-02 11:09 pm (UTC)“It's that way,” he said, pointing in the vague direction of the one he'd assigned Elisif. Easy enough to find, none of the others had a dragon skull mounted on the roof.
Silence. Then...
“It's too dark! They keep moving... Madanach, please help me!”
He could see he wasn't getting out of this one.
“Fine, I shall escort you back to your bed, and then I am leaving you there and returning to my maudlin self-pitying.”
“... OK.” Confusion in her voice and clearly she was at that stage of drunkenness where complicated phrases were a bit beyond her. Madanach got to his feet, and then he belatedly recalled how jenever worked. It got you drunk from the feet up. You could drink lots of it and feel fine... until you tried to get up.
He got up, staggered round the log, felt the world spin and then he was face down in the grass, just about managing to break his fall with his hands.
Ah. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. Yes, moving was a terrible idea, he should just stay here on the ground until the world stopped moving and it all went away.
“Mad'nach? Mad'nach, why are you on the ground?” Elisif had crawled over, poking at him, looking concerned and a bit annoyed. “You were going to help me find my tent!”
“Well, I changed my mind,” Madanach growled. “Gonna stay here instead. Can't you find your own way home?”
“It's your camp!” Elisif snapped. “An' I'm a girl, you can't let pretty girls go home drunk on their own. It's no' right.”
Madanach glared, seeing her point but also feeling there was something rather unfair about this situation.
“Wha', so jus' because I'mma man, I gotta take care o' you when yer drunk?”
“Yes!” Elisif said firmly, folding her arms, seeming pleased. “Is the shiv-walrus thing to do.”
“That'sh notta word.”
“It so ish! Means yourra good person who helpsh people, anna brave an' noble warrior.”
Madanach was fairly certain he wasn't one of those any more. In fact...
“Ishn't that supposed to be your job?”
That got her, and while Elisif clearly wasn't entirely convinced of his reasoning, her drunken brain was having trouble working out why she shouldn't be. Time to push his point.
“In fact, I'm an old man, you're a young and strong warrior, you should be helping me home.” Madanach held out an arm expectantly. “Maybe I need a big, strong Nord warrior to look after me, hmm?”
“You hate Nords,” Elisif said, utterly bewildered by now.
“Don't hate 'em all,” Madanach shrugged. “Don't hate you. It was jusht the Shilver-Bloods really, but they're all dead. An' Ulfric an' his lot, an we're gonna kill them tomorrow. Don't care about the rest of them. Aela'sh all right and Vilkash ish tol'rable and Farkash is OK as long as he makes my Argiz happy and doesna break his heart, and Brynjolf's fine ash long as he keepsh his hands to himself, and... an' Inga was nice.” Wistful look came into his eyes as he remembered Inga, staring at him as he was lying on the ground, injured and dying, sole survivor of a skirmish. Inga had been out hunting, found him and her healing potions had saved his life. First and only Nord to ever be nice to him (until Elisif anyway), she'd nursed him back to health and apparently fallen in love with him. Hadn't done her any favours, although he'd almost thought about staying, leaving the Reachmen behind him. He'd only been a young man – talented warrior, brilliant young mage, engaged to the chief's daughter but only a minor player back then. He could easily have left it all behind... but he had a feeling Mireen would find him eventually. So he'd said goodbye and gone home, not knowing he'd left her pregnant.
That poor innocent woman had not deserved him, although he could never regret bringing Argis into the world.
“Do you miss her?” Elisif said quietly, kneeling next to him and putting his arm around her shoulders. Madanach let her pull him up, snuggling in next to her and nodding.
“She was nice. A good person. Not like me. Don't think it would have lasted. But I did care. Do care. Fuck it. El'zif, when you get to Shovn – Sovin – the afterlife, you give her a hug from me and tell her I'm shorry.”