#in which Marcello was the real Victim of this chapter

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue: chapter 6

“Man, it feels like we’ve been walking for agesss.” Marcello moaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.” Toivon replied. No further information was given. Saufinril didn’t participate in the conversation, his mind wandering more to the light nervousness of this road, where some weeks ago he’d walked them heading south after the breakup. Toivon had said last night they’d go to Skingrad, then Chorrol, and from there they’d cross upwards to Hammerfell until finally, to Evermor. Skingrad, Saufinril mused, was awfully close to Kvatch. What if he ran into Eramon? What would he say, how would it look? Or maybe he didn’t have to say anything.

Much like he did, Saufinril thought with a bite of anger. 5 years and it was suuuuuch a fucking pain to inform his partner that he had planned a threesome. Fucking jerk. And that wasn’t the only time! What about the time he didn’t tell Saufinril about the Valenwood green “business” he had? Or the Gardtide scam? Or why he got arrested by the barbershop? Oh! Or what about that he was married and then ditched him for his husband only to ask him back and then not tell him about a fucking threesome???

Yeah, no. He didn’t owe him shit. If he saw him then GOOD. He’d make sure he would see him enjoying himself. Without him. Fucking dick. Not telling him shit and then saying ‘I want to rescue this relationship’ as if he hadn’t condemned it from the beginning?? Asshole.

“-on, Saufinril?”

Saufinril looked up. Or rather, Toivon noticed, glared up. Shit, what’s wrong with him? Before he could repeat his question, Marcello piped in.

“What is our plan, anyhow?” Marcello inquired

“I won’t say it here, out in the open.” Toivon said, turning his head back to Marcello, who rolled his eyes and replied, “I’m not talking about then, I’m talking about the time before here and there! What do we do, where do we go, is there a pit stop? I need to hit the outhouse.”

“I told you to go to the outhouse when we arrived at the border.”

“I didn’t need to go then! Can we afford like, 5 minutes?”

“One would suggest we keep walking.” Saufinril interrupted, “We’re tight on schedule.” There was a silent pause as the three mer kept walking, killed only by Marcello’s words.

“I mean…if Toivon doesn’t look back and Saufinril can try to not step on it, I can multitask walking with-”

“NO.” Saufinril snapped, involuntarily too loud. Toivon stifled a laugh, “Let’s stop.”

“You said so yourself, we’re on a tight schedule!” Toivon protested, now turning to Saufinril.

“Then you walk behind him and one walks on front! But one is not going to be on the receiving end of the Second Seed rains!” Saufinril snapped.

“Can we make a consensus quick, lads? I really need to go. We surely can’t be that tight on schedule to not afford a normal, tax-paying mer a couple minutes!” Marcello added, looking between the two older mer.

“Ugh, fine. Marcello, one minute. Go.” Toivon said as he stopped.

“Yes!” Marcello quickly darted out of the road and past some bushes. Toivon and Saufinril, meanwhile, stepped out of the road. Saufinril rested against a tree while Toivon absentmindedly rolled a stone around the ground with his foot. Saufinril bit his lower lip and looked back, the awkward silence between the two mer dampened only by the rustling of leaves with wind and the faraway cawing of crows. Saufinril sighed. The minute dragged on. It felt like more than it really was, but finally Marcello emerged from the bushes.

“Let’s go.” Toivon said, going back to walking. All three mer took back to the trail, the soft brown ground underneath them mushy from the rains, with dead leaves cushioning the mud and making it walkable.

  Skingrad was as bustling and busy as all three mer remembered it. High walls enclosing the city, merchants and people of all races coming to and fro (well, most of all races. Khajiit tents rested outside of city limits) and the guards at the entrance of the city.

“So what’s the plan here?” Saufinril asked, moving his shoulder in time to avoid hitting a young couple with a baby.

“We stay one night at the Trotting Mare, then we keep moving. Before that, go get whatever you need for the trip.” Toivon said.

“Heyyy you-I think I have to do something first. Catch you guys later.” Marcello suddenly said. Toivon began to turn to the younger elf, “Do you even know wh-” but he was long gone. Saufinril turned to Toivon.

“Hope he knows where the Trotting Mare is.” He mused.

“For his own good, he better. I’m not gonna hunt around the city for him.” Toivon replied, heading back down the street, Saufinril in tow.

“How do you know about this inn?” Saufinrin inquired, moving past two gossiping Imperial women that insisted on staying in the middle of the road, his eyes never leaving the shorter mer ahead of him.

“I travel around, y’know. Admittedly, Cyrodiil isn’t exactly my cup of tea, too…weird. Imperials are weird.” Toivon skirted around a cart full of apples and books. Saufinril followed suit. In no time they reached the inn, larger than in Saufinril’s imagination. He’d pictured some small wood shack, not the large building of gray stone, round balconies and various windows in front of him. There was a wooden sign outside of it with a gray mare in a canter,  right next to a board with announcements of jobs, selling, buying, trading, praises to the Thalmor and their allegiance to the Imperial army (Saufinril suppressed a face of disgust at that) and shows that were to happen at the inn that week.

The inside of the inn showed more warmth than the exterior, if anything from the lighting of the candles around and the vase of flowers by the innkeeper and bartender, a short and robust woman with brown hair in a bun and a mole dead set at the tip of her nose. She reminded Saufinril of a hagraven, like the ones in the storybooks of his childhood. One glance from the woman to the two mer and she immediately smirked wickedly.

“Now, what’re you doing here, in the city?” she questioned with some glee to Toivon.

“Just work.” Toivon replied back, grinning, “What’re you doing here, still alive?”

“I’m gunna need more than sickness and three dead husbands to take me to the grave. Oi, who’s the tall one? First time I see one of them with you, thought you gave them the wide berth. You!” she motioned to Saufinril, the smile leaving, “The Lilypad is on the other side of the city, with the others of your kind.”

“What exactly are the others of one’s kind?” Saufinril asked, a snap in his tone. He knew damn well who she was referring to, but he was going to make her say it out loud if necessary.

“Calm down, Gianna. Do you get like this with every new customer? No wonder this place looks worse than last time.” Toivon interrupted, sensing the conversation would end in a headache for him.

“You’re damn right it looks worse, thanks to the Thalmor.” She narrowed her eyes, looking again at Saufinril, “He’s not with ‘em?”

“He’s not.” Saufinril replied cooly.

“He’s helping me and Marcello with a job.” Toivon added, giving Saufinril a look.

“Why didn’t you say so?” the probably-a-witch said, more jovially this time, “An Altmer messing ‘round with Dunmer. Hah! Reckon it’s the first time I see one stoop down here, they’re either out there in fancy uniforms or avoiding the place like it were shit, with their noses so high up, they drown in rain.”

Ah, stereotypes. Now he was in Cyrodiil, Saufinril thought.

“For twenty Septim, you can gawk at him ten minutes.” Toivon felt Saufinril’s glare at the nape of his neck, but didn’t turn to look at him, “Or you could give us some rooms for the night. Whatever you got.”

“Got one. Share the bed or sleep on the floor or something. 25 septims per room per night, and I want a job fer free next time you’re around.” Gianna scratched her mole. Saufinril was almost sure the mole moved on its own, “Giving ye the family discount, love.”

“Don’t wanna know how you treat enemies.” Toivon pulled out the coin and handed it, then both mer followed Gianna past the patrons at their tables drinking, eating or talking, up two set of stairs to the rooms. Some had closed doors, others were open, one had a suspiciously rhythmic banging going on. Gianna stopped at the room.

“Here you go, yer humble abode.” She announced

“Thanks.” Saufinril entered, followed by Toivon.

“If you need anything, don’t come to me, figure on your own and pay if you break anything.” She said the last part looking at Toivon as he got in the room.

“That was one time, Gianna!”

“Where’s Marcello, anyway?” she asked. Saufinril dropped the bag on the bed, sighing to himself and marveling at how heavy this bag was. Had he really packed this much, or was he just tired? He started to rummage through, trying to see what was causing the extra weight.

“He said he had to do something, then took off running faster than a whore in a raid.”

“I’m here!” Marcello’s voice came from the landing. Saufinril turned away from his bag when Marcello’s voice rang, then went back to his rummaging. Or tried to, because he had to stop when Marcello flopped on the bed. Toivon, on the other hand, was resting against the doorframe while talking to Gianna, observing Marcello. He seemed perfectly normal. Too perfectly normal.

“So, what was the mystery errand?” he asked

“Ah, well you said we had to go out and get whatever we needed for the road, right?”

Toivon blinked, surprised that Marcello had actually been listening, “Yeah…”

“So I did.” Marcello replied, then turned to Gianna with a beaming smile, “Long time no see!”

“Could say the same about you, but you look just like last time. Only grayer.” Gianna replied

“Yeah, you do too.”

Toivon let out a laugh as Gianna tossed the keys of the room to Marcello, making them land on his forehead. “Ya rude boy!” Gianna said, unable to hide the smile, “If it weren’t for your dead mother you’d be sleeping outside!”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind…” Toivon added

“I’d just share bed with Saufinril. Right, Saufinril?” Marcello asked

“Nope!” came the answer from the Altmer.

“It was worth a shot.” Marcello said, commenting half to himself and half to the others.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon, lettin’ y’know.” And with that, Gianna turned around and went back downstairs, letting all three of them.

“So, who sleeps in the bed?” Marcello asked, looking at Saufinril and Toivon. Saufinril pointed at the bone-carved couch with the red cloth seat that was on one end of the room and said, “One sleeps here.”

“Fine by me.” Toivon shrugged, putting his stuff on the bed,

“You guys sure?” Marcello asked, sitting down.

“Yeah? Why?” Saufinril asked

“I can sleep there.” Marcello offered, referring to the couch. Saufinril gave him a small smile.

“That’s very sweet of you, Marcello. But one is fine, you two use the bed. One prefers this.”

“Yeah, but,” Marcello looked at Toivon, who now was looking at him back with more attention, as was Saufinril, “It’s just…we’ve been travelling a lot and you guys are so old and frail.”

Toivon took one of the pillows and hit Marcello’s face with it.

 Some hours later, the three of them were downstairs at a table with their dishes and drinks. They’d spent most of the time talking, taking in the ambience and listening here and there to stories they each shared of the travels, where they’d been to, where they’d go to next. Debating here and there on topics. Hours that were felt like minutes. In one moment, however, Saufinril looked around the room, trying to find Gianna or the waiter, when lo and behold. Just entering the threshold. Black, wavy hair. Golden face dotted with the beauty marks. Eramon himself.

Fuck

Toivon, at that precise moment, turned to Saufinril and witnessed the looks of surprise, dread, sadness and annoyance that flooded the Altmer’s face in less than a second, all of them together, as he turned away from the doorway. He looked in the direction that Saufinril had looked at and saw another Altmer walking into the inn. Black hair, melancholic caramel eyes, built less in the lithe way that was common of mer, rather a little more like men.

“Don’t like him?” he asked

“Hm?” Saufinril asked, looking at Toivon and then briefly where he was looking. When his gaze landed on Eramon again, he looked back away. “Something like that.”

“What did he do?” Marcello asked, leaning towards the two older mer. Toivon scowled at Marcello and whispered in Dunmeris, “Marcello, what do you care? It’s his personal business.”

“It’s ok, it’s nothing serious.” Saufinril replied, admittedly a little bit surprised that Toivon defended his discretion. Toivon looked at him puzzled for a second, before saying, “Oh, right. You speak Dunmeris.”

“One does. Anyways, it’s, yeah it’s just one’s ex.” Saufinril said, then took a sip. Altmer were good at keeping composed in the sight of anything, Toivon mused, but he saw the light tremble in Saufinril’s hand. Toivon discreetly looked over at the other Altmer, who at that moment was at a table with two Imperials.

“So,” Marcello interrupted, “I’m missing some dormouse drumsticks? Be right back.” He stood up and walked away, leaving Toivon and Saufinril by themselves.

“Rough breakup?” Toivon asked

“One thought this was one’s personal business?” Saufinril asked back, arching his eyebrows.

“You can just not answer me.” He shrugged, picking around the tuna balls and asparagus on his plate.

“One would rather do that.”

“Fair.” Silence, until Toivon looked at him mischeviously, “Hey.” Saufinril turned to look at him, drinking from his 3rd glass of wine, “Wanna have fun?”

Saufinril felt his heart pound especially hard then. Yet he remained his composture and put the glass down, “What do you mean?” he asked

“Well, I don’t know if the breakup was bad or the details, and to be honest I don’t care. But,” he shrugged, “You could make him jealous, if just for a bit. That’s never not amusing.”

The memory of his earlier fuming, paired up with telling himself that he’d enjoy himself, hit Saufinril on the forehead like the pillow had hit Marcello’s earlier.

“Well…”

“Even if you didn’t tell me, it’s obvious you guys didn’t end it like friends or like it happened a long time ago. Just an idea, though. And the place is packed, I know you can find anyone to get him go green.”

Oh, Auri-El.

“What about you?” Saufinril asked in a whisper. Toivon looked at him quizzically.

“Excuse me?”

“Why…why look around the floor when one already has someone sitting in the same table?” Saufinril eyed Toivon, “It’s…apologies, it’s too daring. And, if you don’t want to do it, that’s ok. Sorry, one can just go upstairs.”

Toivon looked at Saufinril, then at the other Altmer, whose gaze was dangerously getting closer to them. He moved closer to Saufinril and put his arm around him.

“Nope, we’re in this together.” Saufinril looked at him with wide eyes, a smile creeping into his face just when the other guy looked at them. And then his face shifted. Bingo.

“Hot! Hot! Hot hot hot!” Marcello said, reaching his seat and placing the drumsticks in front of him, “Can’t believe they almost let them get cold in the-” he looked at them, “Wh…what are you doing?”

“Just act like this is the default.” Toivon said in Dunmeris. Saufinril, meanwhile, figured that being so tense didn’t exactly convey the air of “casually dating some other hot dude one likes” so he leaned more to Toivon. Marcello nodded slowly, following along, “Okay. Sure, I can do that. Why though.”

“Because I’ll tell you later.” Then he turned and whispered close to Saufinril’s ear, “You should see his face right now.” Saufinril used the excuse of tucking his hair behind his ear to look in the direction where Eramon was at. By all the Aedra, he’d only seen him be this jealous once. He felt terrible. But also he felt good.

“He looks so annoyed.” Saufinril whispered back, “Honestly, one had never done this before.”

“Never?” Toivon asked, and Saufinril shook his head. This dude, for a courtesan, is playing the coy virgin role so well. Toivon closed the distance between him and Saufinril and said, “Wanna amp it up?”

This was just plain evil, Saufinril thought as he took a finger and stroke Toivon’s jaw with it, “Like this?” he asked

“Come on, just one finger?”

“One is being sultry, do you know how to flirt?”

“Is that a challenge, or are you going to show me?”

“OKAY I’m going to the room, bye.” Marcello grabbed the drumsticks and left the table. Marcello’s exit allowed Saufinril to give Eramon another glance. He seemed to try to focus on the gentlemen in front of him, while still looking confused and –dare he say it?- annoyed.

The rest of the night went by with casual talking, much like they had earlier with Marcello, except Toivon’s arm stayed around Saufinril and now and then there’d be grazing, hands resting on forearms or knees, whispering to each other on the status of Eramon (yes, eventually Toivon learned his name) by getting close to the other’s ear, and Eramon’s gradual deepening of annoyance and jealousy. At one point, however, the Imperials and Eramon stood up.

“Wellp, looks like they’re leaving.” Toivon whispered, “This was fun while it lasted.”

“Mmh. Or…” Saufinril drank the last of his wine, took Toivon’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss. Toivon tensed somewhat in surprise for a second. The kiss felt like it lasted longer than the 2 seconds it did. When they broke the kiss, Toivon blinked twice, Saufinril gave him a smile, then looked at Eramon’s direction with care. Oh, right. The ex. He looked there as well. Eramon was looking at them, very still, jaw very clentched, then he turned and left the inn. Only then did Saufinril move away from Toivon.

“That was…something.” Saufinril passed his ponytail from the front to the back, regaining his neutral Altmer demeanor, though his little smile was still on his face, “One…thanks. You were right, it feels oddly satisfactory.” And he went upstairs to the room. Toivon stayed at the table.

“…shit.”

 What woke Saufinril up in the middle of the night, hours after the show they’d put in the first floor, wasn’t exactly his feeling of being well-rested, or the rays of sunlight. It was groaning. Groaning that started silently, in a way that made one think it had been the wind or the dream one was having. Instead, it increased in volume and anguish, until Saufinril’s eyes widened open and he sat down at the couch he was sleeping at. Toivon, shirtless, was already crouched next to Marcello, talking to him in a hushed Dunmeris, something about what was wrong. Saufinril quickly grabbed his shirt, put it on, and conjured a ball of light before heading to the other side of the bed.

“What’s going on?” Saufinril asked in a hushed whisper

“Shit, I don’t know!” Toivon said, concerned, “He said he had a stomachache earlier, then I wake up and he’s like this!”

Marcello was on his side of the bed, curled up and sweating profusely. The sheets were moved away from his body, as if he’d kicked them off. His eyes were closed shut, he was hugging his bloated stomach and he was screaming as if his guts were exploding inside. Someone knocked hard against the wall.

“He’s gonna wake the whole inn.” Toivon whispered, hands still on the younger Dunmer. Saufinril crouched next to Marcello.

“Marcello? Sorry, but one will have to do this.” He placed two fingers to Marcello’s forehead, a rush of magic coursing down his fingers. Marcello suddenly relaxed and went limp and silent. Too silent.

“…did you kill him?” Toivon asked, looking at Saufinril warily.

“What?! No! It’s a spell to put him in a, sort of sleep? Like a trance. But it’s temporary. We have to call a healer or take him to a temple or something.” Saufinril said.

“There’s an asclepieion but it’s on the east end. If we’re gonna take him, it has to be fast.” Toivon climed down of the bed and yanked away the pillows and sheet that had been covering Marcello, “Get the upper two ends, I’ll get the other.”

“Two ends of what?”

“The bed sheet, come on.” Saufinril obeyed, removing the upper corners of the sheet as Toivon did the same on the other side, then they both lifted and carried the cloth (with Marcello in it) out of the room. Once in the streets they went as fast as possible, only stopping a couple times, both for Saufinril to create another sphere of light to illuminate their way and to put Marcello back into the dreamless sleep when the first spell wore off and he began to writhe, but finally they got to the marble building. They just hoped it was on time.