#oc ; dra'khurra

[throughtrialbyfire]

TESFest, Day 6 - In Bloom

a fond summer memory in the past of a future dragonborn word count - 2,371

It had been four months since Athenath's parents moved back to Anvil. He'd chosen to remain in Bravil, that bittersweet city, wooden homes piled high like fashionable Imperial headwear.

The moment Darr'kessh and Dra'khurra heard the decisions and saw the Altmer's parents leave, the pair conspired to bring meals over on occasion, or on others, invite the teenager to have dinner with their family. It was barely a fight, the Altmer adored them dearly, and had grown up with their children as his playmates.

Dra'khurra would sometimes send them on errands, and Athenath would revel in the chance to be doing something with his time. Today, she had him down at the water, searching for some plants scrawled down on a note. Athenath rolled up the legs of their trousers until the fabric bunched under his knees, wicker basket swinging off his arm. He'd told Dra'khurra not to pay him. "Nonsense," she'd waved her paw, "you go and do as this one asks, and you'll have gold for your effort."

So, here they were, trailing the Niben bay with the basket, climbing the hillsides to search for the plants. Muttering curses to himself as they struggled to parse the looping cursive of the older Cathay-Raht's handwriting, they glanced to the wild-growing lavender and poppies and squinted to be sure these were the exact kinds they were asked to find. Dra'khurra was very particular about the plants she required, and it often meant that, as children, Athenath and their friends would spend hours plucking bundles of similar-enough plants and bringing them in their tiny palms to the herbalist. She'd pat their heads and marvel at the bundles, but years later, Athenath laughed at the memory, knowing full well they'd not brought a single thing she'd asked for on some days.

"Oh, elf-cat," called a familiar voice that sent Athenath's head up from where he'd been staring, grin sprawling on his lips, "you seem to have forgotten this one in your hurry!"

"This one?" They turned, facing the familiar, mirror-sharp grin of Ja'dato. "You, or something else?"

"No," he replied, folding his lips against his teeth and bending the corners of his mouth down, creating an upside-down smile that dug into the fur of his cheeks, "oh, no, simply you forgot your… List!"

Athenath held up the paper in their hand. "No I didn't."

"Other list! Of things to do, once you're done with this." Ja'dato clicked his tongue, rushing up the grassy hillside to the Altmer.

"Ja'dato," Athenath groaned, "can I maybe get more information than that?"

"You don't know? Oh, you need to enjoy yourself, have a list of things to do out here in the sun while it is warm, and the sands are soft, and the sky blue. A list of things such as…" he clicked his tongue, tapping his chin, "…have a meal, go for a swim, these things!"

Athenath cackled, swinging an arm around Ja'dato's shoulder, the taller of the pair bending down to be level with the short Altmer. "You're pathetic, you know that?" He said it with such a fondness, Ja'dato rolling his big, luminous eyes. He pulled back, watching the elf stumble atop the grass for a moment.

"Okay, you may have forgotten…. This one," he pressed his paws to his chest in a grand flourish, "but! What I say is true, we should relax, my mother can wait."

"Sure, if she wasn't paying me," Athenath bent to pluck a handful of poppies, their scarlet color blooming along the lengths of their long, cream-colored fingers. "But if you wanna help, I mean, I won't say no," he sing-songed at the Khajiit, who began rolling up the sleeves of his tunic.

"Well, you know this one loves a challenge. How many of what, and where?"

Milk thistle, poppies, lavender, tiger lilies, the bundles settled into the wicker basket as the pair walked through the town, Athenath restraining himself from cackling at every joke the other could spin from his lips. The sun still hung high in the southern Cyrodiilic skies, streaming light into the small shop as they pushed the door open.

"Ah, how lovely to see you two," came the voice of an Alfiq woman resting on the counter, tail swishing idly off the edge. Today, she wore a bright red hat, tied with silk scarf down beneath her chin. Her black fur gleamed in the sunlight, warmed by the noon. She laid along the counter, near jars of incense and solid perfumes. "This one does dearly hope that Ja'dato did not hinder you."

"Nope! In fact, he actually helped me out for once." Athenath landed a playful punch against the taller boy's arm, before turning their eyes back to the Alfiq.

"Excellent," she nodded sagely, rising to her paws. Sitting back on her haunches, she waved one front paw in an idle motion. "Dra'khurra is back there, this one is certain she will appreciate your help."

"Thanks, Ka'taaji," Athenath waved, brown curls bobbing as he made a brisk, springing walk to the back of the shop. Calling into the wooden room, they leaned against the doorframe which lead to Dra'khurra's herb drying station. "Dra'khurra, we're back!"

The Cathay-Raht emerged moments later, already having cleared a space for the flora. Her broad, strong figure clad in a deep, cyan gown, dark violet apron tied to her waist, the colors swirling along her in vivid warmth. "You know where to set them," she ruffled Athenath's hair, and turned her golden eyes upon her son, "and you, were you any trouble?"

Ja'dato grinned. "Only as much as this one," he gestured with a clawed thumb, "would allow him to be."

"He was no trouble," Athenath chuckled, Ta'agra light on his lips, "we're actually going to be out again for a while, if that's alright."

"That's fine," Dra'khurra leaned along the doorframe, glancing back at Ka'taaji, "just mind the dark. Neither of you need to be out into the night, at least outside the city walls."

"Elf-cat would never dare get Ja'dato in trouble," the Cathay boy clicked his tongue with a sprawling smirk, tail swishing high along his back, "they're such a stickler for the rules, mother, you know this."

Athenath pressed their palms to the table, lips clenched between their teeth to stop himself from laughing as Dra'khurra heaved a loud, heavy sigh.

"Stickler or no, you two be safe. My kittens are my business." She straightened the edges of her sons tunic, large paws working to adjust his belt along his waist and dust his shoulders off. "Aren't they, Ka'taaji?"

"Our family, our business." Ka'taaji nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "Speaking of, this one is going to get back to work, my daughter must be bored in my absence." She hopped from the counter and gave a long, claw-extending stretch along the floor, before stretching out her back legs in the same. "I shall be in the chandlery, come get me, should you have need."

"Will we expect your family for dinner?" Dra'khurra asked as the Alfiq lingered in the doorway.

"Hmmmm, perhaps, you're not making that blasted stew again, are you?"

Dra'khurra smirked, shrugging her broad shoulders. "Depends, are you going to complain?"

"By the moons," the Alfiq groaned, beginning the brisk walk down the wooden walkway to her own shop. Athenath waggled his brow, bumping their head to Dra'khurra's shoulder.

"I'll be over, if that's okay," they said, "I like the stew, so long as it's not lamb this time."

"It's not," Dra'khurra confirmed, bumping her forehead gingerly to the top of the Altmer's head. "Then we'll be seeing you."

Snatching a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses from Athenath's home, the pair headed back to the bay, finding a comfortable spot along the hill to rest. Among the poppies and lavender, among the grasses, a world of it's own, a self-contained summer. Bravil was not a wealthy city. It could be dangerous, had been dangerous, but nothing stopped the love that bloomed for the city in Athenath's chest. He sprawled out on his back, letting the sun soak into his clothes with a satisfied hum. Still, something reached into the back of their mind, a distant hum, a call of the skies and the other cities and the sprawl of the roads and ruins littered to the sides.

"You know, I'm thinking about getting out of here."

Ja'dato furrowed his brow, pouring himself a glass of wine. "Why is that?"

"I don't know. I'm just… I love it here, and I did make the choice to stay, but the world's so vast, and there's so much to see, and if I don't go and see it, I think I'll go crazy."

"But you have seen plenty of this world," Ja'dato snickered, "Leyawiin, Anvil, Bravil, and the Imperial City. You feel relaxed here, no?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then what is there to see?" He sipped from the glass, and sputtered against it. "By the Riddle'Thar, this tastes foul."

"Yeah?" Athenath sipped from their own glass, swishing the wine around in their mouth for a moment before shrugging, swallowing it. "Nah, I think your tastebuds just suck."

"Oh," Ja'dato bumped his forehead to Athenath's shoulder, "you are the one who cannot taste."

"No, I'm pretty damn sure that's you," he returned, bumping his head along the other's as well. They sat like this a while, tops of their heads pressing comfortably against one another, Ja'dato purring, closing his eyes.

"Mm, this is precisely why the elf-cat cannot leave," he murmured, "who would share wine with me on the bay? Who would collect plants for my mother?"

"You," Athenath poked a finger against his chest, "you and your siblings, dumbass. And you could have a family picnic at the bay, it could become a tradition."

Ja'dato pouted. "We'd be missing one, it would not be family."

Athenath sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, pulling their knees to their chest. "Yeah, I guess."

Silence lingered longingly through the breeze, sun beginning to loop it's light along the clouds in swishing colors of orange, late afternoon coming much sooner than either anticipated. Ja'dato leaned back on his paws, long fingers tapping into the grass. The sweetness of the flowers blooming all around them filled his lungs, and he drew in a deep, well-needed breath. A dozen ringing words formed at his mind, against his rough tongue, bustling around his teeth. He looked to the Altmer, his friend since the pair could lay eyes on one another, thick as thieves and occasionally becoming thieves when the mood was right.

Ja'dato's world was not an expansive one, but it stretched long against the grasses and the sands, and bathed in the moons with satisfied purrs, his sister and his brother, their friends, his parents, his friends parents. He counted the names. He looked to the Altmer.

"Well, if you insist upon leaving," he pushed a hand into his pocket, retrieving something the elf couldn't see, "then this one has a gift. Wear it, and think of home."

"What?" Athenath watched as he unfurled his fingers, slow at first, then all at once, like petals of a peony opening for the spring rains.

The amulet sat in his palm, rolling patterns and turquoise gem, the beads strung along it's chain leaving no doubt about what it was. They clasped their fingers over their mouth, eyes going wide, brows shooting up to his hairline as the amulet of Mara caught the noon light. His heart leapt into his jaw, stomach hardening.

"I- Ja'dato, I mean, I know we're like, close and all, but-" everything came out in a rush, and catching their shock, Ja'dato's expression betrayed surprise as he frantically waved away whatever suspicion they had.

"No- oh, by the Riddle'Thar, no, I'm not-" He laughed, nerves wrestling with his tongue, "oh, I'm not proposing, elf-cat, settle down."

"Thank the eight," they rubbed their temples, "we're sixteen, I think that's a little early."

"Well, for you," he snickered, "Altmer don't marry until they are hundreds of years old, correct?"

Athenath wavered a flattened palm. "More like fifty, sixty, somewhere in there. Anyways, what're you…?"

The Khajiit pulled the chain gently open, and slid it over their head, along his throat, the amulet resting on Athenath's chest. "It is a gift. I wanted to give it to you at a good time, but now seems as good as any."

Athenath wrapped their palm around it, and feeling indents, turned the amulet over onto it's back. In the sunlight, he could make out Ja'dato's carved Ta'agra, the impressions hard on his tracing fingertip. A phrase, simple and sweet, 'from your loves, to your love'.

"What does this…?"

"In fifty or sixty years, this one anticipates you will find yourself a husband, and you may give this to him." Ja'dato explained, ruffling their hair. "Hopefully, he will appreciate it. And the reminder, he is not the first to love you."

He didn't anticipate the elf to throw their arms around his neck and pull him tight, face burying into his shoulder, but he wasn't complaining. Ja'dato wrapped his own arms tight around him, breathing in the noon air, the salt of the Niben bay, the scent of flowers. "Thank you," they mumbled against his neck, "you'll never know how much I care for you, Ja'dato."

"I can only hope," he teased, earning a small pinch from the Altmer against his side. He yelped, and when the mild annoyance had run it's course, he nuzzled his forehead to theirs. "Besides, what a shame it would be for a devotee of Mara to not wear her amulet, don't you think?"

They spent the afternoon drinking debatable wine and walking along the bay, flowers crowding their ankles, wind ruffling the pair's clothes and hair. Athenath would leave Bravil in a few short months, but for now, he had his friends, and the life that had built so stubbornly around them, and the world at their fingertips. And in this moment, beneath the slight hints of the guiding light of Jone and Jode, that was enough.