#and the instruments coming together... please take pity on me I'm tearing up already

[asofterepilogue]

I apologise for the person I'll become when "would you fall in love with me again" is released

[lucienladamned]

Memories

This is a short story I wrote for my character, Alois. In this writing he looks upon his keepsakes and reminisces about the good... and the bad of his past

~♡~

 It was the first Middas of the new year. Alois had his head buried in his hands, blinking back tears. If only he hadn't forced Qadir to leave early… Maybe he would still be alive then…

A knock came upon the door and a second later quickly opened. “Listener,” cooed the jester, “Must you really sit in here all day? Let's kill someone!” He hopped inside the door and gingerly closed it behind him, approaching the desk of the Sanctuaries leader. “You're looking a bit down, Listener,” he soon observed, “Shall I tell a joke?”

Alois raised his head and shook it. “No, Cicero, please just grab me something to eat. I must keep waiting for the night mother to speak to me once more.” The old elf’s eyebrows scrunched together tightly, his eyes goaded Cicero into leaving him be.

 “Ah, maybe some other time then, Listener! I do know you used to love slaughtering those milk maidens,” Cicero said as he left the Listener to his own thoughts by quickly leaving the room.

Alois pushed his chair out and stood up, then brushing off his robes from the charcoal shavings. Making his way towards his personal chest, he looked around his living quarters. How had it even come to this? Living alone, bitter, and in the freezing stones of Dawnstar… He knelt down in front of his chest and carefully opened it, looking down at the assortment of random objects and nic-naks inside.

Reaching down he brought out a beaded necklace. Big, blue and black beads hanging on a fraying string… some of their colors were even fading. Damn, he could remember when he got this like yesterday.

         ~◇~

“Papa, papa,” mused the young dark elf, “You're back!” He ran up and jumped up into his father's arms along with his two brothers as his mother watched. “What did you bring us? Did you bring us some sweet rolls?” The young boy, around ten to be exact, seemed to be brimming with joy at the sight of his father.

The old man smiled back down at his boys. “No,” he said, “but I have got you boys some taffy.” He reached into his knapsack and brought out a long candy and handed it to the boys. “Now you three share now. Go and play, Papa is tired.”

 The three brothers ran off to go play. “Wait, Alois? Come outside after dinner. It's important,” the old man croaked, taking off his hat and scratching his balding head.

“Yes, Papa,” replied the oldest, his back turned to him and fixated on the candy. He was paying no attention to his pops… which wasn't out of the ordinary for the three boys.

After dinner the old man went out and sat down on the porch steps, drinking out of his mead bottle little by little. He was looking out on the setting Ashland sun, silently sending a prayer to Azura… Then his oldest child bounded outside.

“Papa, what going on?” The child say down next down to his father, his feet swinging back and forth slightly. “Is everything alright?”

 His father sighed and wrenched his eyes away from the sun. “Yes, Alois. Everything is okay,” he said softly, looking over at his son. His eyes were tired and worn out, almost like old leather. “I just wanted to talk to you.” Pulling a long, beaded necklace out of his pocket, he held it up to the purple sun. “You see here, boy? This is precious. Was your grandfather's, and his father's before him,” he started, the worn out necklace twisting and dancing in front of the pair. “It ain't worth much, Alois, but it's precious. And it's yours, sunny boy. I hope you understand.”

Everything had gone through one ear and out the other. He had just nodded along through the whole thing. He wasn't much more than an oblivious child after all. “Yes, Papa. I understand,” he said bluntly as the beads were handed to him and lay in his hands. “I'll take good care of it.” The young boy didn't know it now, but this necklace will come to mean the world to him in a few years.

                                ~◇~

 Alois shook his head to shoo the memory away. No. It was too hard to think about it… about his family. He sighed and carefully placed the necklace back into its place, searching for something new to bring out. He pulled out his… lute.

           ~◇~

The young adult of an elf was standing on the street corner in Vivec City, playing desperately on his lute and sang a traditional Dunmer tune. The man just barely had enough to eat… nothing to rest his head in an tonight, however. Damn it… These damned entitled Dunmer … He just wanted to rest well for one night, for Boethiah’s sake! He shook his head and finished his last chord before sinking against the wall and resting his life in his lap, defeated.

From a block away, a young red guard caravan leader heard the beautiful playing of a lute. “Say, who do you reckon is playing that,” he said, amazed.

“Don't pay any attention to it. It's just that poor sod, Alois. Doesn't know when to stop his damned playing. Quite an annoyance if you ask me.”

Qadir had heard enough and was already walking away to find this ‘Alois.’ Sounded like a damned good player to him. He had just turned the corner when the Dunmer had sunken down. Pushing his dreads behind his ear and quickly putting them up, he made a quick game plan.

Qadir took a deep breath and approached the down right poor elf with his chest puffed out. “Ah, was that you playing,” he tried to say as smooth as possible. It worked for most of the persons he was up against anyways. That's why he was a merchant after all! Yet, his words came out a little lighter than usual. “I thought it was absolutely beautiful. I'm Qadir. Pronounced KUH-deer. Nice to meet you. Want to go for drinks tonight? All on me.” He flashed the elf a wide grin and held out his hand.

 This was just for a night, right? Turns out that Qadir stayed much longer than anticipated…

    ~◇~

The old man snapped back to reality and wiped his eyes. Damn that red guard… making him fall in love like that. He shook his head and placed the instrument back down, instead pulling out a small wedding band.

          ~◇~

“Come on! Come with me,” the dark elf urged, tightly grasping the other mans hands in his. “Leave the market place, we can start our own stand, Qadir!”

 It was pouring rain out in the dark of the Morrowind city. They were both just 40 years old at the time of course. Both confused. Both soaking wet from the horrid weather.

 “Come with me! We'll start our own farm! We'll be happy,” he urged, slipping his hands out of the others. “Q-Qadir look, please,” he begged, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a plain, gold band. “Qadir I love you.”

 Qadir stood there in complete shock. Leave the city? Start their own farm? It was absurd. Impossible even. “W-Wait, Alois think about this! A farm, a farm?” His eyes laid down upon the band in the others hand and opened his mouth to speak once more before closing it. Had he really saved up… for a farm? For him? “L...Let us do this. We'll Leave tomorrow afternoon.”

 Alois nearly cried out in relief as he slid the ring onto his man’s ring finger. “We'll elope, my darling! Mara will love us either way!”

           ~◇~

The old man wiped the tears streaming down his face. Was that really the last time he was… happy? God he missed it, he missed Qadir so fucking much. He yelled out in frustration and threw the ring to the bottom of his chest. He was fucking angry. Angry at the tribunal! Angry at those fucking bandits! Angry… angry with himself. He took a shaky breath before bringing out one last thing… Qadir’s head garb.

            ~◇~

“I'll see you soon, honey,” cooed Qadir, leaning down and kissing his husband on their doorstep. “I'll be safe. I promise,” was his last words to Alois before waving and departing for the road with their weekly goods.

Alois had anxiously waited for his husbands return, constantly staying out to tend their farm much too late into the night and nearly never sleeping. It had been about a week… Qadir should be coming home soon! By the eight! He couldn't wait…

 There was a quiet knock on the door. Alois quickly sprung from his chair to answer it. “Qadir, baby you're finally home-!” But it wasn't his love.

“I, er, I've got something to deliver. A notice of… death. Of your housemate Qadir.” The courier handed the elf the thick envelope. “Oh, and sorry for your loss.”

 Alois was left in shock as he just nodded, closing the door in front of him. Dead? He couldn't be. He was completely fazed as he sat down and tore open the letter.

 It truly was a death certificate… and a small note of condolences.. and somehow, the only thing that was left on Qadir was his headscarf… and it was in the envelope with it.

He threw the papers at his feet and clutched the scarf in his hands, staring down at it in complete shock. He was alone… again. He broke out into tears and sobbed into the scarf. Damn the eight! Damn their fucking plans!

  ~◇~

Alois hadn't realised he was sobbing into his sleeve in reality, crumpled in a pitiful position, the last thing of his husbands clutched in his hands. By Sithis he missed him so much.

“Listener? Perhaps now you need a jest? Or a story?”