“‘Course it’s for you!”
Toiq did not pay much attention to Fontaine until he mentioned magic. His ears flicked and his entire body flinched away.
Well, how about that. You saw new things every day.
“Of course. My healing abilities may not be up to par with my peers but something like this is not beyond my skills. Lucky for you, hm?”
“You’re telling me that? As if Toiq could be considered a convict.”
Bielrin rolled eyes eyes when Fontaine hastened to assure him that he was only helping out because Toiq was an asset. He was beginning to remember why the other elf wasn’t his favorite person on Nirn. But the main thing was that he was helping, so Biel kept his mouth shut.
Until Fontaine made it clear he was meant to open the door for him, that is. This time when Bielrin rolled his eyes, it was in such an exaggerated fashion that Fontaine couldn’t have missed it. “Alright, alright. This way, your highness!” With that, the Bosmer opened the door and ushered Fontaine into his room. In a normal inn, the room would have been crowded already, but thankfully the Dwemer had liked big rooms almost as much as they’d liked stone beds.
Needless to say, when the door opened, he was not expecting what entered first. Toiq’s figure stretched forward painfully, sitting up and gave the Altmer an awkward stare. “Black-cloth…?” He crossed his legs, having no intention of laying back down just yet. “I did not know you were here…” He could muster a smile for him. Everything that had happened had given him enough strength for that.
Biel entered not but a few moments later, food in his arms. Immediately his eyes, their color dulled by the darkness of the mines lit up, a new life sparked into them. His hands moved forward slightly, clenching just a bit in complete desire and focus. His stomach let out another groan. “I-is that…” He licked at his chapped lips, “Is that for me…”
He moved forward, too hastily for his condition, and something popped. He leaned back just as quickly, putting his hand on the area and whining softly. “E-eh… C-can you bring it to me, Biel…? Hehe…”
Lock jumps to the worst possible conclusion as the two re-enter. Thalmor. They’d been found out, they were under arrest for harboring a fugitive, it was off to the mines for all of them… but Biel doesn’t seem nervous, quite the opposite, so Lock merely regards Fontaine with guarded suspicion.
“Who’s this?” he asks, reaching over to take the armful of food Biel is carrying to Toiq. “We’re not all going to fit in here if your Thalmor pal wants to stay the night too.”
“Thank you, Biel.” He gave a small huff, entering.
“Unhand me, you foul little demon!” The Altmer struggled against his grip, flat out hissing at the bosmer like some sort of angry snake, “If you MUST know, yes. I can do some restoration. Alchemy was my favorite subject at the school. Why does it even matter?” He gave a huff of annoyance.
Fontaine yanked his arm away from Biel, accepting that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as Biel rambled away at him. His body remained stiff while his face held a look of pure hate, all he wanted to do was go about his business, not talk to the grabby little elf. What was he even saying? He made no sense whatsoever.
Once he finished he dubbed it proper to finally ask what Biel was talking about, “By the eight, what are you even talking about? What do you mean this is lucky? Why in the world are you happy to see me? Because I, in no way, am happy to see you!”
“Speak your business or I will be forced to use my “zapping” on you.”“Bosmer, Fonty, not demon!” Biel grinned, and didn’t grab for Fontaine’s arm again when he yanked it away. “Eh! That’s great news, I knew you’d be up to it!” As immersed in his joy as he was, Bielrin completely forgot that he hadn’t explained anything to Fontaine yet.
When confronted with that fact, Bielrin fell silent for a minute, then adopted a sheepish expression. “Eh! Forgot to tell you, didn’t I, eheheh.. It’s Toiq! I finally found the big guy. He’s uh.. in need of a healer’s hands.”
“He was in the mines, if you can believe it. But now he’s in my room. That’s why I’m so happy to see you! If you can heal him while I feed him, he’ll be back to his old self in no time!” Bielrin gestured pointedly back towards the door to his room, which he’d closed just a moment ago.
“Be up for wha—” Fontaine paused, staring at the smaller man. The hate soon left his features and another emotion took its place. Something close to worry, perhaps? It left as quickly as it came as the scowl returned to his face.
“What was he doing in the mines? They only throw convicts into the mines…” The MO didn’t fit at all. Toiq was as harmless as baby bear so long as you didn’t threaten his dear mammoth or his own life. Even then, he attempted reason before attacking. Which was a surprise by itself.
The altmer straightened, determinded to look completely neutral when he saw the half-giant again, “Very well. Just remember, I am not doing this because I LIKE either of you. I am simply helping for my own selfish needs. Toiq is useful to me and no one hurts something I claim as mine.”
With that said he strode toward the room, expecting Biel to follow and open the door for him.
(Source: locked--inside)
The collision was unexpected, catching him completely offguard that he was unable to stop himself from gasping before anger overtook him.
Fontaine was already beginning to screech insults and breton profanities until he felt something very familiar. Something squeezing a very DELICATE place. Was that a hand on his behind? Was that the hand of a LOWLY being touching his behind?!
The cursing and insults continued as he shoved the smaller being away, glancing down at the guilty party to punish hi— !!
“YOU!”
A sneer slithered across his facade, attempting to keep his hands from strangling the small bosmer where he stood, “Must you always touch me?! What are you even DOING here?! Nevermind! I don’t wish to know of your current… activities!”
The elf was already working his way around Biel, trying his best not to touch any part of him as he does so. He was in quite a huff, to say the least.“I knew I recognized that behind!” Bielrin grinned at the outraged Altmer, laughing when he was shoved backwards. “Been a while, Fonty! Have you been working out? I could swear your back end is firmer.” He paused, and if it was possible, his smile got even brighter. “Hey, you can do more magic than zapping, right? Restoration, or alchemy? Right?”
He reached out and made to grab at one of Fontaine’s arms, to keep him in the hallway. “This is perfect! I didn’t think we’d be able to find someone so quickly, I thought for sure we’d have to wait until morning-” Bielrin chattered to himself, almost oblivious of the fact that what he was saying wouldn’t have made any sense to anyone but him and the two people in his room.
“Even if you can’t do anything but Destruction, this is still really lucky… Eheheh! I never thought I’d say this, but I’m happy you’re here, Fonty!”
“Unhand me, you foul little demon!” The Altmer struggled against his grip, flat out hissing at the bosmer like some sort of angry snake, “If you MUST know, yes. I can do some restoration. Alchemy was my favorite subject at the school. Why does it even matter?” He gave a huff of annoyance.
Fontaine yanked his arm away from Biel, accepting that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as Biel rambled away at him. His body remained stiff while his face held a look of pure hate, all he wanted to do was go about his business, not talk to the grabby little elf. What was he even saying? He made no sense whatsoever.
Once he finished he dubbed it proper to finally ask what Biel was talking about, “By the eight, what are you even talking about? What do you mean this is lucky? Why in the world are you happy to see me? Because I, in no way, am happy to see you!”
“Speak your business or I will be forced to use my “zapping” on you.”
(Source: locked--inside)
Another day, another job for the good of his people. Which was what he would like to say but in reality it was just a simple messenger job to the thalmor of Markarth. Boring, to say the least. He would claim it was of great importance later on and keep from complaining to his superiors for giving him such a lowly task.
He was THE Fontaine. He shouldn’t be doing servant work! He should be doing something worthwhile! He should be a justiciar by now!
Now he was in this ratty old Inn while he awaited his next task from the Thalmor of Markarth. His mind wandered and he found himself itching to do something as he laid on the uncomfortable bed. Stone beds, what were they thinking? He swore he would complain the next time he saw the innkeeper. Said innkeeper seemed to know exactly how to avoid him after the ten other complaints Fontaine screamed at him… Probably just a coincidence.And now his new neighbors were thumping around as they entered their room, he could even hear muffled voices. It wasn’t helping his mood at all.
Fed up, he finally moved to leave his room, stepping out into the hall and marching to find the innkeeper.
Bielrin caught Lock’s key midair, and grinned at him. “You sure? Thanks! Heh, this might take a few trips, but I’ve got a feeling this place will be cozy before we’re done. Be back soon!”
With that, the bosmer slipped out of the room, intending to acquire food before he went to Lock’s room. Quieting Toiq’s stomache was his immediate concern- bedding would come after that. Bielrin was so focussed on his mission that he failed to pay proper attention to his surroundings. When he should have ducked around the person in the hallway with ease, he collided with the poor soul instead.
The collision was unexpected, catching him completely offguard that he was unable to stop himself from gasping before anger overtook him.
Fontaine was already beginning to screech insults and breton profanities until he felt something very familiar. Something squeezing a very DELICATE place. Was that a hand on his behind? Was that the hand of a LOWLY being touching his behind?!
The cursing and insults continued as he shoved the smaller being away, glancing down at the guilty party to punish hi— !!
“YOU!”
A sneer slithered across his facade, attempting to keep his hands from strangling the small bosmer where he stood, “Must you always touch me?! What are you even DOING here?! Nevermind! I don’t wish to know of your current… activities!”
The elf was already working his way around Biel, trying his best not to touch any part of him as he does so. He was in quite a huff, to say the least.
(Source: locked--inside)
“You’re probably right.” Bielrin shrugged. In the excitement, he’d forgotten what time it was. The apothecary would be closed by now, and the temples would only have maybe one or two priests about at this time of the night, and none of them healers.
“Food it is!” He beamed. Bielrin was about to continue the thought, when Toiq mentioned his plan to get more furs. The Bosmer choked on his words, giving a sort of coughing laugh. String weapon? “U-uh.. yes! Eheheheh, I’ll see what I can do!”
“‘S gotta be lucky! What else could it be?” Bielrin returned Toiq’s grin. “I’m gonna go see what kind of food this place has. Lock, do you want anything, too?” He might as well offer. With how big Toiq was, it was pretty much a guarantee already that the bill would be high.
“Nah.” Lock reaches into his pocket and tosses Biel the key to his own room. “I stocked up when I got here. Take what you want.” The meat he’d planned to eat tonight would still be fresh, plus he had the preserves Roxy had sent him off with. He sits himself on the floor, curling his tail around his legs. He was still a bit chilled. “Why don’t you get the blankets from my place, too? Your friend here isn’t going to fit on the bed, but the floor’s probably just as comfortable.” Stone beds, honestly. They didn’t have to preserve every ridiculous thing the Dwemer did.
Toiq stared at the floor for a while, feeling a bit ashamed after everything that had happened. His life had taken a rather nasty turn in the past few months. Now here he was with his back a wreck and his friends running around frantically doing things he should be doing for him self on his own. Out in the plains. With his mammoth.
The thought twisted his his stomach like a sickness and his body slumped forward, his head nearly in his lap.
“Thank you,” he mumbled suddenly to the naga, “I cannot do much for what you have done for me.” The giant craned his neck, his back cracking quietly in several places. “You are both in danger because of this. But I am glad you both found me.”
His massive frame slid to the floor and he laid on his back. One of his arms strewn over his eyes and he took several deep breaths to try to ease the pain in his spine.
His stomach was not ceasing its growling.
Another day, another job for the good of his people. Which was what he would like to say but in reality it was just a simple messenger job to the thalmor of Markarth. Boring, to say the least. He would claim it was of great importance later on and keep from complaining to his superiors for giving him such a lowly task.
He was THE Fontaine. He shouldn’t be doing servant work! He should be doing something worthwhile! He should be a justiciar by now!
Now he was in this ratty old Inn while he awaited his next task from the Thalmor of Markarth. His mind wandered and he found himself itching to do something as he laid on the uncomfortable bed. Stone beds, what were they thinking? He swore he would complain the next time he saw the innkeeper. Said innkeeper seemed to know exactly how to avoid him after the ten other complaints Fontaine screamed at him… Probably just a coincidence.
And now his new neighbors were thumping around as they entered their room, he could even hear muffled voices. It wasn’t helping his mood at all.
Fed up, he finally moved to leave his room, stepping out into the hall and marching to find the innkeeper.
