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skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
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Re: Fire and Potions - 51/?
Date: 2014-08-02 06:05 am (UTC)Melaran took one look into their cold eyes and knew they were going to drop him.
“ZUN HAAL VIIK!”
For a terrifying moment after he heard the shout, he thought he was falling.
The hands gripping his arms and shoulders involuntarily released him, as the men staggered beneath the weight of the shout.
At the same moment, Melaran saw the invisible figure encircling him appear, hauling him back to solid ground. Melaran, driven by adrenaline, gripped the dark figure back with crushing force until he was safely upright. As soon as his weight was back on his own two legs, he sagged, his body trembling.
Therion gently lowered him to the ground before straightening up and turning his eyes, bereft of emotion, on the men before him.
He could hear their murmurs of “Dragonborn”. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled his hood down, putting his pointed ears and gold skin clearly on display against his black garments. He glared meaningfully, daring them to attack.
The guards, long overdue, finally appeared and made their arrests.
Melaran was escorted back to the palace, leaving Therion and Farengar alone in the amphitheater.
“Zun, haal, viik… Weapon, hand, defeat?” Farengar asked curiously as he replaced his hood, shrouding his face once more.
“A shout to disarm and stagger my foes,” Therion explained. “I couldn’t pull him up, with both of those men holding onto him.”
Farengar nodded.
“I see now, why you’ve been wearing a hood and mask as of late. The masses can’t tell the difference between a Thalmor and a high elf, much less a Nord wearing a robe,” he said disdainfully.
They continued talking as they left the amphitheater and returned to the main road.
“For a robe-wearing, magic-wielding wizard, you sure can handle yourself in a fight,” Therion said with a whistle.
“I am a quick study. And growing up in Skyrim was nothing if not educational,” Farengar said. Anyone could have a strong body, in his opinion (and often did, in Skyrim at least). A cunning mind was a far more valuable weapon. He thoughtfully added, “Do elves distinguish between magic and physical prowess, as Nords do?”
“It’s different,” Therion said with a shrug. “Magic is as natural as breathing, to my kin. So no mer would underestimate someone just for being a mage. However, I wouldn’t exactly bet gold on a mer wizard in a fist fight either. Scholars tend to be soft. Present company excluded, of course,” Therion said with a fascinated glance. “I wonder,” he smirked, “How well you’d handle me?”
The wizard snorted.
"I already pinned you once, or had the mighty Dragonborn already forgotten?"
"I let you win," Therion said with a roguish grin.
"I doubt that," Farengar replied. "Or do you perhaps mean you didn't have the opportunity to cheat with your thu'um?"
"So, my thu'um is cheating?” he asked, his voice filled with mischief. “What about magic?"
"You may feel free to make use your magic," Farengar replied, cracking his knuckles with a faint smile. “If you wish to test yourself against me again someday.”
“Well, I am nothing if not irreverent. Perhaps I’ll try it sometime, when you-” Therion shimmered and vanished, pulling Farengar’s hood back, “-least expect it,” his disembodied voice finished.
Farengar experimentally swung a fist toward the sound of his voice, his hand passing harmlessly through thin air. He could cast Detect Life, but it was more rewarding to win without it. On a hunch, he spun around and swung again, his fist meeting air once more, but this time it was accompanied by the sound of quick shuffling and Therion cursing under his breath in surprise.
“That one almost got me,” Therion’s whisper fell on his ear, a hair’s breadth away.
“I missed you on purpose,” Farengar replied with deliberate arrogance.
“Liar,” Therion whispered.
Farengar chuckled despite himself.
“Why would I want to give such a handsome elf a black eye?”
“Handsome?” Therion laughed. “Appealing to my ego to win? Not that I mind; you flatter me.”
Farengar snorted in mild disbelief.