[center][h2]A Summer Chat between Two Gentlemen[/h2][sub](citation needed)[/sub][/center]

[hr]
A [@Father Hank] and POOHEADED collab[hr]

[i]Dusk, 30th of Last Seed, 4E208
The Three Crowns Hotel, Gilane[/i]

The decision to return to the hotel was vindicated when Gregor discovered the kitchens and was able to procure a plate of seafood (presumably all caught off the coast; he recognized none of the ingredients) and a bottle of Cyrodiilic wine. It was a nice combination of exotic and a taste of home. He took his food, the bottle and a big glass up to the balcony. He tiptoed through the room when he saw Calen fast asleep on the bed -- the poor boy had not taken to the sea very well and Gregor understood he must be exhausted. Even after he had stepped out on the balcony he quietly put his dinner down on the table and slowly sank into one of the comfortable, cushioned chairs. He took a deep breath and sighed. Some of the tension that had wound itself tight in his chest began to unwind. A pleasant breeze was playing with the curtains and dancing through Gregor’s hair and now that the sun was setting, the temperature dropped sharply to something more enjoyable. 

After a minute of just sitting motionlessly and staring into the middle distance, Gregor blinked a few times and sat up straight, picking at his food with some cutlery he had snatched from an already-made table in the downstairs dining hall. He felt old. Their narrow survival of the Dwemer ambush, the journey to Anvil, then hastily having to escape again… he remembered how he had brutalized two of the Aldmeri infiltrators with his claymore. They were sleeper agents, not soldiers, and hadn’t stood a chance against him. Still, he had now finally followed in his father’s footsteps as an enemy of the Dominion. It was a bizarre thought. 

He looked around, letting his gaze wander beyond the balcony’s edge to the shimmering city of Gilane, until he -- wait, what was that?

The breeze stopped for a minute and the curtains fell back to their resting positions, revealing Alim sitting on the balcony’s railing. 

Gregor exhaled slowly. “Good grief, Alim, you gave me quite a scare. Have you been there this whole time?” 

“I didn’t want to say anything.” Alim replied, giving a light grin. He had been sitting on the balcony for nearly an hour now, overlooking the city. The coastal air and the Hammerfell architecture brought something to his heart he had missed. And by Akatosh, he had missed the Redguard women. Half of his balcony time was taking in those sights, truth be told. But at the end of it, he had wanted to be alone and simply ponder, same as Gregor probably. “Interrupting would have been awkward.” 

Alim decided not to move off of his perch for the time being, fairly comfortable where he was. “I like the new outfit. Does it help with the heat?” Hammerfell weather took Alim some getting used to. He could only imagine how it was to someone who had likely never been.  

“Yes, it does,” Gregor said and returned Alim’s grin with a smile of his own now that his heartbeat had settled again. “But I spent the last decade in that black, grim-looking outfit. It’s an important part of my looks.” He glanced wistfully at the chest by the foot of his bed in the room behind him; that’s where he had stashed his old clothes, ready to be used again whenever the weather permitted. “I look like a… pirate, or something.” He looked at Alim over the edge of his glass and chuckled before taking a sip. “But I’m glad you like it. I’ll get used to it. How are you? Glad to be in your homeland? Are you even from Hammerfell? I just realized I have no idea.”

“You know I would say the pirate comment is stereotyping but…” Alim looked down at himself, and some might consider him a corsair. He [i]had[/i] been close to one, at one point. “Hammerfell has the reputation for a reason. I find most places in Tamriel are similar, in such ways. Reputations I mean. That’s what makes the Dwemer so difficult to determine...” He seemed to be thinking aloud for the moment, before shaking his head. “Oh, I’m from Highrock, initially. My father was a Lord there, truth be told. I was but a bastard.” 

He cleared his throat. The story used to be hard for him to tell, but nowadays, it seemed simply apart of a bard’s song. “My mother was a Redguard. I never knew her…” He sighed. “I’ve given up on finding her now. But yes, I lived in Skaven for a number of years.” 

Idly, he reached up to feel the bejeweled necklace given to him by Princess Savranah. A memory from years ago. Somehow he felt it a love he never did have the chance to pursue. Story of his life, he supposed. One of these days, he would need to figure out if his life was truly a tragic tale. “I see you and Raelynn have gotten quite comfortable with one another.” he joked, his thoughts going from his old flames to Gregor and Raelynn’s odd relationship. He had seen them giving each other nasty looks. They were either infatuated or wanting to kill each other. Odd how the two were so similar. 

Gregor fell silent for a few seconds. He was still hiding behind his glass of wine, leaving only his eyes visible, and the look he gave Alim was not entirely kind. “So you noticed that. Very perceptive of you.” He exhaled sharply out of his nose and took a big gulp. He was too sober for this. “What of it?” 

Alim raised an eyebrow, and he gave a chuckle. Not meaning to be offensive, but simply surprised at the rapid reaction. “Nothing,” the Redguard mutt said, holding up his hands defensively. “Now I am perceptive, I won’t lie. But you weren’t exactly being subtle. I mean if you have a problem with her, it’s not my place to talk about it. But she’s ok in my book. A little...greedy, but I am too.” He shrugged. Every single body movement seemed oddly comical.

“A problem? What are you implying?” Gregor put his glass down, perhaps a little too hard, and tilted his head while he looked Alim in the eye, frowning. He was tired and stressed. The last thing Gregor needed was the group's resident Casanova sticking his nose in his private affairs. “Do you even know what you're talking about? Do you know Raelynn at all? I don't think you do.”

“Well I am the one who saved her life in the Imperial City.” Alim said. He should have stopped speaking. Gregor seemed a bit too annoyed and Alim was usually the one to never let anything bother him. But then again, Alim was also one to engage and then dance around someone until he got a critical hit in. [i]This isn’t an enemy, this is a companion. Slow down.[/i] Alim took a breath, and he spun and hopped off the stone railing. “So I have known her the longest. You are a newcomer, and hey there’s nothing wrong with that. Look, I don’t care if you like her or hate her, I just thought you’d want to talk about it. Unless you’re an angry drunk.” 

“I'm not drunk,” Gregor said tersely. Alim’s casual arrogance was as grating as nails on chalkboard to Gregor and he felt anger building behind his eyes. “I saved her life in Anvil. That makes us even. Alim, really,” he continued and shifted in his seat, “what on Nirn gives you the idea that I might hate her? Or is that just because you're not familiar with the type of… [I]dynamic[/I] that exists between Raelynn and I?” Gregor smiled again but it did not extend all the way up to his eyes. “I get it. You're young, haven't been with every type of woman there is to be with yet, and now you see how Raelynn and I look at each other and you don't know what to make of it.” He drained his glass and reached for the bottle. “You should have seen her after I had my way with her. That would really give you pause. Just stay out of my business, alright?” 

Alim probably did the last thing he should do at that moment. He laughed. Not out of malice or amusement. But he was a bit too surprised at how quickly this shifted from one thing to another. “Oh I know women.” Alim said with a smile. “It’s guys like you I am new to.” He didn’t want to correct him on much, mostly because he felt like Gregor would draw his blade and Alim would either need to leap off the balcony or explain how mentioning Raelynn led to him dueling Gregor. He decided to do the responsible thing, which is an oddity for him. He stepped backwards and leaned against the railing of the balcony, for safety sake. If Gregor came at him, he knew just what window to grab after he took a small fall. 

“Well…” he thought for a moment. “Maybe not. You do remind me of a few criminals I used to know. They were tough types. It’s a compliment I swear, I don’t discriminate. I’m a criminal myself sometimes...” 

It would be then that Gregor would notice that Alim had the wine bottle in his hands, pouring a bit into his flask. As if to hone the point that he had a nasty habit of thieving. “Look, I’ll stay out of your business.” Giving a guilty look, he slid the wine back over to him smoothly. “But who is in Raelynn’s business is up to her, don’t you think?” 

The dashing Redguard had already had a date night with Rhona, and he felt like he might wish to pursue that further if anything. He was more focused on the position of Hammerfell at the moment. But still, he had promised to help Raelynn out when need be, and Alim wasn’t the type to be bossed around unless he was getting paid.  

Gregor quietly fumed at the sight of Alim with [i]his[/i] bottle of wine in his thieving hands. He did not take kindly to being outwitted. That said, it was what the Redguard mutt said that he felt he had to respond to. “You are very far out of line to compare me with the common criminals you associate with, [i]bastard.[/i] It’s obvious that you don’t know the first thing about me. Keep your ignorant and offensive assumptions to yourself. As for Raelynn’s business…” His voice had been sharp and reprimanding, but now it descended into what could only be described as malice. “That is her choice, of course. But she will choose wisely. You can count on that.” 

Alim took a swig of his flask. He gave a satisfied gasp at the wine. Not bad. “I think that ship has sailed.” he said. 

Gregor suddenly slammed his fist on the table, causing his cutlery to jump in the air. “Enough. Leave me to my dinner. We're allies and I shall bear no ill will towards you come the morning, but you have done quite enough to sour my mood this evening.” He glared up at Alim and it was obvious from the coldness in his gaze that he meant it. 

The spellsword had to agree. Even if he didn’t start it, that didn’t mean he had to finish it. “You’re right.” he said, letting that sink in. “In the morning, I’ll act as if this never happened. I apologize.” He actually sounded sincere, and he found out he was. He realized he had been speaking at a haughty Knight and not Gregor. Alim had grown up among those who thought they were far better than he as purebloods, and with the bastard ‘insult’ he had taken it a bit far. 

“Sorry for the wine. Have a better evening.” He said, and with a twist he planted himself onto and over the railing to fall to the otherside. He caught himself on the window sill he knew to be there, and then cautiously made his way down. It would be best to sleep on a rooftop tonight, he decided.