#in which Lillandril has to parent this fucking Altmer hot mess of a son he has

[fireintheforest]

Busted

The Den kitchen was relatively calm, as calm as kitchens can be, before the storm of cooking, cleaning, preparing, boiling and brewing necessary for the nightly shows. That explained the cooks moving around the kitchen and how nobody batted an eyelash when Saufinril and Muraz entered the kitchen, engrossed as they were in their jobs. Saufinril kept looking ahead, purposefully ignoring the orsimer that talked nonstop behind him.

"Saufinril, come on, I-really, are you not going to listen to me? That's your punishment? You're going to ignore me? It’s already been a day, are you really going to pretend like you can’t hear me?" Muraz asked. Saufinril just keeps walking, not even looking at him, until a hand grabbed both him and the unsuspecting Muraz and pulled them aside.

“What the-”

“Gentlemen”. Lillandril’s voice was tight and clipped, and automatically made Saufinril close his eyes in resignation when he identified the voice, “A word.” He steered then towards the nearest open door, leading into a well stocked pantry full of shelves of cheeses, cured meats, etc."Ohhh hey b-ok" Muraz walked along while Saufinril went in complete silence. Lillandril pushed the pair of them into the pantry, pausing only long enough to glare at a nearby cook who had begun wandering in their direction before joining them. Then he firmly pulled the door shut, folded his arms and looked at the pair.

Saufinril put his hands behind his back and averted his gaze. Muraz, however, scratched his arm and said, "Um, good morning, boss. Lovely seeing you, you look great. Did you do something to your hair? New clothes?"

Sau just whispered a "Muraz, shut up"

Lillandril darted his eyes to Muraz and glared for a solid, unblinking minute. “Ah, yes. Our young entertainer. Remind one, are you Magula’s grandson, or great grandson, or...?

"Uhm, that was- yeah she's my mother's great grandmother so you could say-yeah it's long but we're related." Muraz answered.

Saufinril just slowly closed his eyes again. He just wanted to disappear.

“Ah, one sees. So it was, perhaps, maybe three generations ago that any hint of her acumen abandoned your family in favour of sheer idiocy and utter mediocrity?” Lillandril asked

Muraz looked at Saufinril, whose eyes were still closed, before looking back at Lillandril and replying while sounding uncertain, "I'm...not sure how to answer that."

Saufinril, again, just whispered "Then don't, for the love of fuck, don't."

"Everything ok, sir?" Muraz inquired

"Muraz..."

“You tell one, Muraz. You are - or at least claim to be - a passably intelligent sapient. So you tell one. Is. Everything. Ok?”

"...I'm tempted to say yes, sir, but that's just because you see more of this businesd than I do. So you know things I ignore. So my alright is not your alright." Saufinril looked like he wants to slap Muraz right now, but otherwise remained silent. Lillandril made an unimpressed noise, shifting his gaze to Saufinril. “Perhaps you’d like to help your friend? Seeing as he lacks the ability to read a mood - which may explain his lacklustre performances of late. That and an ability far less than his ego would have him believe.”

Muraz opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Saufinril, who knew well what Muraz had been about to do.

"It's about yesterday, us both leaving The Den for a long while." Saufinril replied. Muraz cleared his throat. "In my defense," he said, "I had to run errands. I don't know why-"Before he could continue, Saufinril turned and gave Muraz a mad look.

"-and I asked him to come with me." Muraz added quickly, at Saufinril's glare. Lillandril continued his dead eye stare for a moment, switching between the pair of them. “And why would that be a problem? Saufinril?”

Muraz stopped looking at Saufinril, Saufinril looked away from the orsimer.

"One shouldn't have left The Den, especially because one has chores to finish here. And not run into Thalmor." Was the young Altmer’s answer.

“And why should you not have left here?” Lillandril asked, “Why were you to avoid the Thalmor? What possible reason could one have, hm, to be somewhat irked by your latest misadventure?”

“To not endanger The Den, or the people that depend of it, or you, or Rialas, or oneself."

"Lillandril, sir, with all due respect, we were gone just for some hours." Muraz said

"Muraz just quiet down." Saufinril whispered, eyeing his friend and hoping he’d take the hint.

“Just a few hours. Hm. And yet in those hours, you managed to disobey one, find yet another brawl, risk the attention of the Thalmor, and show a total disregard for the last conversation we had. Quite the display, no?”

Saufinril dared to defend himself in a small voice: "One didn't exactly engage in a fight, serah-"

"I pestered him to come with me. He didn't want to, he told me he couldn't. I kept insisting until he did." Muraz’s interruption made Saufinril stop in his tracks and exhale. Any chance for this to go smoother had just died with that. Lillandril snapped his eyes to Muraz. When he spoke, his voice was raised and contained a bite of anger. “You pestered him. You insisted. As if you absolve him of any responsibility. You have also intruded into a matter that does not concern you. Allow one to make it clear: one cares little and less for you. You are here only so one can make it abundantly clear to you quite how badly you sit in one’s displeasure. When one tells somebody - one’s ward and charge, no less - to remain in the Den, one expects that to happen. One does not expect to be ignored and undermined by a selfish, spiteful, conceited little toad such as yourself. You are nothing to one; you are a performer, one of a thousand, forgettable, needy, desperate. Your arrogance and self assurances are misplaced. Were it not for the fondness one holds for your distant forebear, you would be lucky to be allowed to beg outside the door of this place. You are feckless, lazy, entitled, and above all else, a bad influence. The last thing you wanted to do was to draw one’s attention to you, because you simply lack any quality that can withstand it. You are inconsequential. Trivial. Forgettable. Nothing. And you are exceedingly lucky that one is telling you this rather than simply having you thrown into the night. Do you understand?”

Muraz nodded with complete seriousness and even a dash of fear visible. Saufinril himself bit his lower lip, silent and unmoving. Lillandril allowed the quiet to linger just long enough to be uncomfortable before pointing a finger at Muraz. “Consider yourself lucky you are only being sent to the kitchens for a month. In that time, you will not set foot on the stage - or indeed, in any public areas. You will spend the month scrubbing, and cleaning, and cutting, and boiling, and any other menial tasks the chefs have for you. You will be in the kitchen, ready to work, at dawn each morning, and you will not finish until you are told you may leave. And you will thank one every day of that month, because your forebear would have tanned the hide from your back and thrown your bloody form into the night.”

"Un-understood. Yes, yes sir" Muraz’s voice revealed more of the fear he had.

“Good. Now get out.”

No need to say that twice. Muraz turned and left without even looking at his Altmer companion. Saufinril stayed in silence, gaze still averted from Lillandril, who stared at Saufinril, not saying anything, content to simply wait. There was the barely concealed sound of gossiping whispers from outside, in the kitchen. After a while, Saufinril cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I really thought it was going to be an hour at most and that nothing would happen. Should've figured I was wrong about that."

Lillandril waited a moment and then sighed. “Quite what one is to do with you, one despairs. You are not as easily cowed as your feckless friend, for one. Neither can one rightly say you could have known this would have occurred.”

"Still, your orders were clear and I chose to follow him. Anything you see fit for me, I'll follow. Strictly this time."

“In truth? It matters less about punishment than it does security. Once, the Thalmor may ignore a troublemaker - and yes, that is how you will be seen. Yet a familiar face being seen again? Tis reason to look more closely. As we discussed, such scrutiny bodes I’ll for you and one both.”

"I know." He waited a second, then finally looked at Lillandril, curiosity unable to be contained in his green eyes, "How did you know about this, serah?"

Lillandril offered a small, conspiratorial smile. “How does one know about anything? One has means.”

"That is scary." Saufinril took a hand through his hair, exhaling. "It...might not be because of punishment, and I understand. I should've stayed inside, and- I don't want my words to get cheapened by apologizing and then doing it again, serah, but I really am sorry. It should've been quick and I'd be back here but nonetheless history repeated itself and...I'm sorry."

Lillandril nodded slowly. “That, at least is something. The fact remains that it would be safer were you no longer in the city for a time. And that it behooves one to be seen, at least, to punish disobedience.”

"So...I'm to go back to Cyrodiil?"

“No.” Lillandril reached into his pocket and drew out a key, which he extended to Saufinril. Saufinril took it, looked at it over and then looked back at Lillandril as he asked, "...is one banished to the cupboard for the rest of the month or..."

“Don’t tempt one. But no. That is the key to one’s home in Lynpar Marsh - that is, the town that birthed one’s flame hairs succubus, and where his family yet lives.”

Saufinril looked up at Lillandril, some puzzlement seeping through in his facial expression, "Lynpar Marsh?" That far away??

“Tis remote enough to be safe from Thalmor eyes, while serving as exile too. And as coincidence should have it, one’s bee brained brother in law has been waiting for one to send him a shipment of goods from Hammerfell he requested - which arrived here but a few days ago.”

He didn’t have much room to protest when he’d dug this grave. Saufinril gave the smallest of sighs, then nodded. "Lynpar Marsh it is. What kind of shipment?"

“Imports from Hammerfell. One scarce recalls, ‘twas some nonsense about bees and the health of the hive. One barely listened. Oh, yes. While one recalls. Should you set off tomorrow - which you will - you should reach the Marsh in time fir the harvest seasons. All kinds of swamp insects and plants and the like will need to be collected, preserved, dried, so forth abd so on. It seems something you should help with, no?”

Yeah, the message was clear. Saufinril nodded. "Yes, serah. One will. Insects, huh?"

“Insects. Fish. Water plants. Arachnids. Alligators. Various eggs. So forth and so on. Do try to avoid getting swamp mud on the rugs. Importing replacements is costly abd a bother.”

"Noted. Why water plants? One thought the Pact kept people from using them."

“It’s a matter of debate. You’re best not asking about it.”

"Alright. One leaves tomorrow, then." Saufinril looked at Lillandril, "Is one free to go?"

Lillandril offered a soft smile before moving to the side, allowing access to the door. “You are. And please - if your friend asks, One was terrifying and you are being banished from one’s sight because one can’t stand the sight of you. It will not do him any harm to live with a dose of fear for a bit.”

Saufinril returned a small smile, "Noted. You're furious, one is in exile. That'd be more than enough with him."

“Maybe add some dramatics? Glowing fingers with drawn magic, a manic gleam in one’s eyes, various threats involving a Daedroth?”

"Fear for one's life, begging, voice of thunder, all that?"

“Exactly. One does have a reputation to maintain.”

"Alright, yes. One can do that. Should one add the cupboard as a jail one narrowly escaped from?"

“Please. It adds menace. Gravitas.”

"Will do. Thanks, serah." Shouldn’t be hard to keep this reputation, what with what Muraz saw mere minutes ago and the fact that Lillandril had fought more monsters and thieves in one month than Saufinril had in all his years of travelling. He went to open the door, but stopped, then turned to Lillandril again, "Seriously, how do you find out about these things? Muraz and one didn't argue that loud yesterday. Or at least as far as one knows."

Lillandril smiled more broadly and folded his arms again, raising a brow at Saufinril. “Are you surprised? Not as much as one was to discover about your liaison with that strapping Nordic chap, round the back of the Temple of Dibella, no less.”

Oh, that was low. And also had left Saufinril’s memory. Saufinril opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. And pressed his lips. Nope, nothing he could say could erase that fateful day. Lillandril continued to smirk, adding in an eyebrow wiggle for good measure. “Or that business with that Imperial cartel trying to secure certain jungle products for their drinks...”

"That was empty flirting, it never went beyond anything, despite appearances. Or rumors. Or anything anyone saw."

“Uhuh. So that wasn’t you clinging to the bottom of the cart that left the city after dark during the Festival...”

It was him. "No. One is a virgin and Danario said nobody would see us in the- oh you mean the cart with the, the time one- one can’t confirm or deny that was one." Yet there was a small smirk from Saufinril’s side. It is obvious how much of a blatant lie this was, “Anyways, like one said- one is a virgin. And an honest, law-abiding one too.”

Lillandril laughed, waving a hand at Sau. “Go, begone, foul liar, before Sanguine himself appears to claim you.”

Saufinril gave him a grin before getting out. At once, he changed his face to a solemn, terrified one when he reached a spot where Muraz could see him, going immediately to get the tables ready for the opening of The Den.