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🕑 Added 2024-04-30 12:05:05 +0000 UTC3k words
***
“We could… share the bed, lass.”
Skyseeker opened her mouth in a mix of surprise and horror. “Scandalous!” she exclaimed. “Man-thing can’t SLEEP with Skaven! W-What would Horned Rat say?”
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “You want the whole tavern to hear you? If you don’t want to share, at least sleep on top of the floor, not beneath it.”
“Hmm…” Skyseeker mused, chewing on a claw, fixing him with a thoughtful expression. She mumbled something about the Horned Rat again, then seemed to make up her mind.
“Man-thing is very warm,” she mumbled. “Would make nap-time warm too. I accept your deal, Roderick.”
He took her paw, guiding her out of the floor and towards the bed. Usually he would sleep in just his briefs, but for politeness’s sake he decided to keep his tunic and pants on.
He paused by the mattress, his heart humping a little faster in his chest for whatever reason. Skyseeker seemed to mirror his hesitation, the Skaven extending her arm to touch the bedsheets, all while staying as far away from the mattress as possible.
“That’s made of cotton,” he explained, lifting the covers away by the corner. “Which is a kind of fluffy plant. That there is the pillow, also made of cotton, but full of goose feathers”
“Man-thing nests… very soft,” she mumbled, stroking the pillow like it was some kind of house pet.
“What do Skaven beds look like?” he asked.
“Some successful rats fill nests with blankets, but most sleep in burrows full of smooth rocks. Good for the spine!”
“Do Skaven weave blankets?”
“Of course not, stupid! Stolen from other nests!”
“Which are themselves stolen from cities up on the surface, I imagine,” he mused, slipping beneath the sheets, the insulated covers holding back the cool air. Skyseeker followed his example, swinging one long leg onto the bed, then the other, Roderick shufflin away to give her room. The bed was a single, and even with the Skaven’s smaller frame, there was barely enough room for the both of them, his left arm dangling over the edge of the mattress.
He recoiled when her winding tail batted him in the face, the Skaven wriggling on the spot as she tried to get comfortable. The indent he created in the mattress meant she found herself being pulled towards him, her fluffy coat brushing against his arm.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, tugging her tail under an arm, the appendage wiggling like a snake as she tried to control its erratic movements.
“It’s alright,” he mumbled, turning on his side so he could make more room. Once she was settled in, she threw the covers over the both of them, the combined heat of their bodies already creating a nice pocket of warmth.
Without warning, Skyseeker shifted, Roderick watching her discard her cloak, dropping it off the edge of the mattress, exposing her shiny black fur. He’d found out firsthand how soft her coat was to touch, but now that it was clean and dry, she felt even more fuzzier than normal, and his mind wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or flustered that his arms and chest were unable to stop coming into contact with her.
“Man-thing very warm,” she muttered, sharing none of his prudishness as she shuffled closer, her back firmy pressing against his chest. “Reminds Skaven of… hot things.”
“Uh, thanks?” he stuttered, holding his arms up, not sure where to put them now that she was so close. Her scent rose to his nose, so potent now that there was nowhere else for it to go. She smelled faintly of the soap he’d used earlier, but there was a deeper, more rich scent hidden behind it, one that his brain associated with coffee, of all things, almost earthy, but not in a bad way.
“D-Don’t smell Skaven,” she grumbled, perhaps hearing him sniffing the air.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Just don’t!” she said, not elaborating further. Shrugging his shoulders, he promised he wouldn’t use his nose, pulling the sheet a little higher over his shoulder. He tried closing his eyes, but with her tail constantly flicking against his legs, and the compromising state he was currently in, sleep was the last thing on his fretting mind.
“Y-You can touch Skaven,” Skyseeker added, seeing him struggle to find a spot for his arms.
“Oh, I-I wouldn’t… Are you sure?”
“Touch don’t smell, that’s Skaven’s rules for nap time.”
Slowly hooking an arm across her stomach so as not to startle her, those flat muscles in her belly flexed as he hugged her. With her back to him, he couldn’t see her expression, but he had an inkling her eyes were angled straight ahead. She was as tense as he was.
“This is weirdest thing Skaven has ever done before,” Skyseeker commented, and for once he was glad for her tactlessness nature. Her blunt statement seemed to melt through the lingering tension like a knife, Roderick chuckling as he eased down onto the pillow they were sharing.
“Which part? The fact you’re sharing a bed with me, or that you’re in a bed at all?”
“The… first one. No! The second! Maybe both. Always try to find own private nest to sleep before. Breeder sharing nap with other Skaven always makes breeder… nervous.”
“I can imagine,” he replied. “Are you… nervous now?”
“… No,” she replied after a moment. “Should be, but not. Not know how Skaven comes to that conclusion.”
“Maybe because I’m not a Skaven?” he suggested.
Skyseeker voiced an uncertain ‘Hmmmm’, but did not reply, curling her paws beneath the pillow. As the minutes ticked by, she seemed to grow more relaxed, gently easing into his chest, perhaps attracted to his body heat. Likewise, Roderick felt the prospect of sleep slowly becoming easier to grasp, his eyelids soon growing heavy as his body registered the fact it was surrounded by soft sheets and soft furs on all sides.
“I-I like you, Roderick!” Skyseeker suddenly exclaimed, Roderick tilting his head.
“Now that was sudden. Where’s this coming from?”
“Before, Roderick said you like Skyseeker. Wanted to, uhhhmmm… reciprocation!”
“Oh. Well… thank you,” he said, not sure how else to respond. With that, she pushed her head into the crook beneath his chin, seemingly satisfied with his answer. Soon her stomach began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, the Skaven’s breathing slowing as she drifted off.
Roderick closed his eyes, the sensation of his fingers running through Skyseeker’s damp fur during the bath echoing through his mind. He remembered how close she’d come to touching his groin area, just the mere recollection of the event making his head spin. Why was he acting this way? Was he so deprived of female company, that he was starting to see Skyseeker in that kind of light? It was borderline heresy to be even considering it, but no matter how much he tried to stave the thoughts off, it was impossible to ignore them for very long, not with the Skaven’s soft body pressed up against him.
He needed to get his act together, and fast. Deciding he’d sleep on these troubled thoughts and sort them out in the morning, he settled in, inadvertently pulling Skyseeker a little closer as he let sleep take him.
-xXx-
Roderick palmed his face as he threw off the bedsheets, swinging his bare feet onto the cold floor. Sunlight was bleeding through the slivers between the drapes, drawing bright bands of yellow across the wall and table, the scraps of the hearty meal they’d enjoyed last night still messing its surface.
“Ready for some breakfast?” he asked, yawning into a fist. He turned to pat his companion on the arm. “Assuming you’re not still full from last night. S-Skyseeker?”
The bed was empty, the Skaven nowhere to be seen. He looked around the room, checking beneath the table, then inside the bath, scratching his chin in confusion. He remembered waking up during the night a couple times, feeling Skyseeker’s soft presence bundled up against his chest, her whiskers tickling his face. She had turned around in her sleep, and whether that had been involuntary or not, he felt his cheeks warm at the recollection all the same.
He crouched down to check beneath the floorboard, but again she wasn’t there. She must have left not too long ago, but to where, and for what reason? He knew that if anyone was sneaky enough to move about the city undetected, it would be Skyseeker, but he still worried for her all the same.
I’m worried about a Skaven, he thought, shaking his head. Truly strange times for us all.
His jumbled thoughts from last night came flooding back in a tide, a part of him briefly wondering what exactly was strange about looking out for a friend. But did friends bathe eachother? Only partners or consorts would do such a thing, and Skyseeker was neither of those things. Did Skaven bathe eachother, did it have some other implication in their rudimentary culture?
Trying to dispel these thoughts, he checked the room over one more time, calling her name out once or twice into the walls, just in case she was napping in the brickwork. There was no reply, Roderick running a hand through his hair as he paced about.
She had told him she’d wished to explore the city, perhaps she’d made a start of it before he’d woken up. Either that, or she was in the tavern kitchen eating all the food. Perhaps he should go make sure it wasn’t the latter, then figure out what to do if that wasn’t the case.
Pulling on his armour, feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep, he unlocked the door, making his way back into the tavern lobby. The musicians had departed, leaving the stage barren, along most of the seats and tables. A few patrons still lingered about, including the two elves he’d seen before, one of them glancing up at Roderick has he walked by their table.
The innkeeper was still manning the bar, dressed in the same apron and tunic, looking not in the least bit tired. He must be used to working long nights in this place.
“Morning, stranger,” the man greeted, nodding to an empty stool. “Drink? More ale if you’re feeling adventurous, apple juice if you’re not.”
“Juice is fine,” Roderick said, sliding out a few corns from his money pouch. The innkeeper placed a mug on the bar-top, Roderick taking an eager sip. The juice was sweet and tasty, quenching his dry mouth in a matter of moments.
To the right of the racks of bottles and kegs was a door, and it opened a few moments later, a maidhand dressed in a black and white gown carrying a bowl of soup or porridge in her hands. Neither she or the innkeeper looked like the victims of a kitchen raid, so he could rule out Skyseeker being in the pantry.
“So,” Roderick began, leaning on his elbows. “What’s been happening around here? Anything interesting going on in the city? “
The innkeeper regarded him for a moment before replying. “Normally I’d charge for gossip, but since you’ve already paid up, a few words couldn’t hurt.”
Roderick’s smile was thin. At last, he’d seen the limit of the Tliean lust for gold.
“The Skaven invasion’s got everyone riled up,” the innkeeper added, wiping a mug stain off the counter with a rag. “The militia’s not quite enforcing conscription, but there’s posters nailed to every wall and door, offering a very fine wage for anyone who signs on. If what I hear about all these wiped out mercenary bands is true, they’ll need every able man they can get if the rats come knocking.”
Roderick shifted at the words ‘wiped out’. Was he talking about the band he’d been a part of? Had they really been killed to a man? There was no way to be certain, but he still felt a pang of guilt rise up in his chest all the same.
“Is the port still open?” Roderick asked, changing the topic.
“Certainly. We don’t call this place Portamaggoire for nothing. If the trade routes were ever cut, city would die a slow death.”
“Any special ships coming in lately?”
“Special?” the innkeeper asked. “As in, the Enlightenment herself special? Most interesting ships docking here are caravels, the occasional galley perhaps.”
“I’m supposed to be meeting an old friend here, he’s sailing in from the Empire. He’ll stick out in a crowd. He’s a wizard from the Conclave, a druid, dresses in a big green robe, wears a wreath of sticks on his head. Seen anyone like that?”
“A wizard, eh? Let me think. I do recall a mage passing through some time ago, but he came in with a caravan. If he sailed in on Imperial business, you’ll have to ask someone at the harbour, afraid ship business doesn’t reach this far into town.”
The elves seemed to grow interested in their conversation, one of them whispering to the other while pointing in Roderick’s direction. He decided to preempt them, leaning an arm on the backrest and waving a hand to get there attention.
“Help you two with anything?” he asked, Roderick taking a moment to look them over in more detail. They wore leather armour from neck to toe, parts of their tunics the same colour as leaves, probably to help camouflage them as they stalked the forests. Like Skyseeker, they wore baggy hoods with long capes, but unlike the Skaven’s raggedy fabrics, these elves wore capes of fine linen, a symbol of a spiralling tree weaved into the material. Slung over their backs were quivers of arrows, as well as giant bows, the weapons as tall as Roderick was.
The one on the right regarded him with a pair of icy blue eyes, the rest of their face obscured by a cowl. Even in a public tavern, they both seemed to value their notoriety.
“Tell us something, manling,” the elf began, a male by the tone. “For what reason does a mercenary have to meet with a druid?”
“And what reason do you have to eavesdrop?” Roderick asked back. “Why’s it any of your business?”
“Druids respect the world,” the other elf added, this one a female. She had eyes that were almost as blue as her male counterpart, but not quite. Apart from that, with the cowls on it was hard to differentiate them, they looked like twins. “They’re the one class of manlings who do not lumber around, desecrating nature’s beauty. A common brigand should not disturb a Jade Wizard with his stink.”
“His Skaven stink,” the male elf added. “You reek of the vermin, manling. Almost thought a rat had stumbled through the door, when you walked in last night.”
Roderick sipped at his drink, hiding his hesitation behind the mug. They weren’t aware of how close their analogy had been to the truth, thank the Gods, but the comment carried an unspoken warning. If Skyseeker went anywhere near these elves, she would be discovered in an instant. It was a miracle she’d taken to moving through the walls.
“That’s because I had to fight my way through the vermintides just to get here,” Roderick explained, touching the hilt of his Skaven sword for emphasis. “One tends to get a little messy hacking through rodent after rodent. Not that either of you would know, you take pride in killing from afar, judging by those stormbows of yours.”
“Your words carry implications,” the female snarled, her blue eyes flashing. The male placed his hand on her sleeve, gripping her arm tight.
“Not here, Shessare,” he muttered. “Do not let yourself be antagonised.”
The female settled back in her seat, glaring daggers at Roderick, who smiled back.
“I’m not implying anything,” Roderick assured. “Simply stating the fact that if I were sitting up in a tree, leagues and leagues away from any front line, I’d smell pretty nice too. If anything I’m complementing you, Shessare.”
“Do not speak my name, manling,” the elf woman growled. The innkeeper, watching the exchange silently from behind the bar, thumped the counter with a fist, seizing everyone’s attention.
“I don’t want any trouble inside my tavern, understood? I just mopped, so take it outside if you can’t be civil.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roderick replied, holding up a gauntlet. “The elf asked me a question, and I’ll answer it. This druid, Wilfred, he’s come to rid me of this country. No offense intended,” he added, glancing at the innkeeper. “He’s expecting me, so if you’ve any information to volunteer, speak now, otherwise I’ll be on my way.”
“What makes you think we know anything of this mage?” the female elf, Shassare, asked.
“Did you hear the part how I mentioned Wilfred wears a wreath? He acquired that from the branches of an Athel Loren Glade Tree long ago. I imagine a pair of elves would be very… attuned, to something like that if it was nearby.”
“Perhaps you do know this druid, or his exploits at least,” the male elf mused, clasping his gloved hands together. “He came in on an Imperial Wolfship two of your weeks ago – though why it is referred to as a wolf alludes me, crude thing that it is. Considering it’s the only one of its kind in town, that should be enough for you to find him.”
“Well that’s… helpful,” Roderick replied, blinking in surprise. “If I know anything about you treefolk, you’d never help someone for free. Or at all for that matter.”
