Llarasa began pinching at her fingers. "I see. So you want them to know?"

Fendros nodded again. "Yes. At least about my condition, perhaps more." He looked to one side. "I do not know how much I'll tell them today."

One of Llarasa's knuckles made a snap as she began twisting her fingers in her anxiety. There was a long pause where she simply stared at the ground between Ahnasha and Fendros. "You should probably see mother first. She's inside." Llarasa beckoned as she turned to lead them to the front door.

Walking inside the house was louder than outside. The wooden floorboards knocked against their shoes in a manner impossible to hide from any occupant.

A tired voice called out through the short hallway. "Llarasa? Have you brought friends over again? I've told you before, you must brew tea for them before they arrive."

"Mother, I have some people you need to meet." Llarasa lead them slowly. Fendros had slowed down.

Fendros peered up and around. The main furniture in the house was just as he remembered it, perhaps with some items shuffled around. Llarasa reached for his upper arm and urged him on before he could slow to a stop.

"Oh? Is it the healer again? Tell him I have been taking my medicine. I have no need of a check up today."

They turned a corner and stepped through an open doorway. Within was a modest sitting room, furnished with soft, well upholstered couches and chairs. The fireplace crackled softly on the opposite wall, barely more than a small mound of glowing coals. On one of the seats was an aged Dunmer woman wearing a brown gown and white apron. In her hands was a large quilt that she was carefully sewing together. She did not turn her head to look at them, neither did she appear to be looking at the quilt. Her eyes were half-shut as if she was sleep-walking. In spite of the lines on her face, she did not appear to be much older than Llarasa. That was not likely the case by elf standards of aging.

"Mother?" Llarasa clasped her hands together.

Fendros' mother turned her head towards them. Her eyes were milky. She sniffed. "I smell a cat. Llarasa, I told you that you are not to have any pets without your fathers' permission!"

"Mother, please. This is important."

The face of the Dunmer woman softened. Her voice even seemed to level after detecting the weight of Llarasa's words. "Very well." She placed the quilt to one side and stood up. She put her hands together and bowed her head. "My name is Calia, welcome to our home. Might I know your names?"

Fendros had been paralysed since he saw his mothers' eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but it took him a moment to come up with anything. "I'm...it has...it has been a while, mother."

Calia froze up at Fendros' voice. "Excuse me," she said, quavering. "Could you say that again? I think I misheard you."

Fendros took a step forward and extended a hand. "I am so sorry."

In the light coming in from the windows, Calia's lower lip began to quiver. She took a defensive tone. "If it is your intention to play me for a fool, I would ask you to take your cruelty elsewhere!"

"This is not a trick, I assure you mother." Fendros took another step forward. The sound of his footfall caused Calia to take a half-step back. Fendros continued, "It was about four years ago, wasn't it? I can hardly remember. I was going hunting because I had an argument with father. I didn't know what I was doing, I intended to come back a few days later. I was going to bring back rabbits to stew. You always liked them the best. I could never fathom why."

[i]"What?"[/i] Calia breathed, "What did you just say?" Fendros did not step forward. Instead, it was Calia that brought her hand up, carefully reaching for Fendros' face. Fendros took her hand and brought it to his cheek. "Fendros?" Calia's face twisted into sadness. "My son?" Her quivering knees shuffled up to him. "My son is returned?" Calia was careful trying to embrace Fendros, as if he would slip away if she wasn't careful. "I'm not dreaming. I'm not dreaming."

Fendros brought his arms around Calia in turn. A tear from each eye ran down his cheeks as he held her tight. "I'm here. It's okay."

Calia broke down into long, shuddering sobs as her tension ran off her like invisible water.

Llarasa watched on, suppressing whatever emotions she might be feeling. She was no doubt internally glad that meeting Fendros' mother first was turning out well.

Fendros and his mother cried in each other's arms for a solid minute, going back and forth with small comments that further confirmed just what Calia had been through. It wasn't until she slowly separated from Fendros that she started asking questions. "Where have you been all this time? What happened to you? What...just...we must tell your father and brother!"

"Mother, wait, please." Fendros held out a hand and stopped her by the shoulder. "We need to sit down. There is a lot to say, and I want you to know first. Well...Llarasa has been told, but do not worry the others yet. Please."

Calia suddenly became more grounded. "If that is what you wish." She slowly lowered herself back into her chair. "Llarasa, please make us some tea. You, by the door, come, sit. I never heard your name?"

[hr]
Harriet's abode was not spacious. It was drafty and damp, bordering the line between cramped and cosy. There was only one small room with basic furniture and a kitchen corner, while a set of stairs near the door lead up to the next floor.

At the base of the stairs, Harriet turned her head to face Meesei with a low brow and a deep frown. "I insist, miss. I am not playing any games. Please allow me to [i]put my child to bed[/i] so we can [i]speak without disturbing her.[/i]" Now out of the crowd, Harriet's tone was severe and unambiguous.

Without waiting for an answer, she lead Narsi up the creaky stairs. "Take a seat. I won't be long and I won't try anything."

Narsi kept looking back to stare at Meesei with her confusion starting to turn into worry. They turned and strode out of sight at the top of the stairs. A closed door and Harriet's soft and muffled voice sounded out. After some words, her voice began to sound like a calming, melodic hum. She was likely singing Narsi to sleep with a Cyrodilic lullaby.