[h3]Origins[/h3]
Shaft and Dervs collaboration

[I]Somewhere outside Gilane, early morning 2nd Midyear, 4E208…[/I]

The prisoners had been handed over to Major Kerztar and his team of “specialists”, leaving the Cathay to his own devices, which had involved drinking half a pitcher of wine to himself in the common area and now he ran a whetstone over Jone, the first of his axes, and Jode, sat waiting on the table next to his seat. The hearth kept the Khajiit warm, the halls were cold and possibly haunted. The Secret Police headquarters, after all, had been established in what had once been one of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuaries in Hammerfell before that wretched organization was put to the blade.

The guild of assassins probably would have been retroactively pleased with how the new inhabitants were putting it to use, he mused.

 The room he was in had once been where they’d made sacrifices, he’d learned. The alter that had stoned soaked with the coppery scent of dried blood was now covered in a gaudy rug and served as an impromptu bar; their organization had better inventory than some inns, he reckoned. The macabre decorum that had once dominated the place were replaced with far more lively and juvenile things, such as the statue to the Lucky Lady that had been a replica of the one forged in Bruma years and years before was now dressed in the garb of some insurgent boss they’d taken down, her outstretched hand holding a woman’s pair of undergarments, and upon her head was a chef’s hat. Various trinkets from about town and the occupants’ lives occupied the place, and while they’d all started off as strangers, many of them had bonded considerably over the course of the past month; most of them had come in as prisoners and arena combatants, but the Major saw potential in each of them, despite their ill-repute; he offered them a position on his task force doing thankless, dirty work they’d likely had a hand in before, and in exchange they’d have a sort of freedom and autonomy that they would have forsaken otherwise. They were free to wander the streets, were paid a weekly wage, and otherwise treated well, but they were quite feared.

Zaveed of Senchal was once a privateer for the Aldmeri Dominion, and over the 38 years of his life had gone from a street urchin to abused, sometimes sexually, cabin boy, to a ferocious warrior and eventually a captain of his own ship, where he’d earned a reputation as one of the Dominion’s best and most deniable assets; his enemies knew him as Captain Greywake of [I]Merrunz’s Wrath[/I] and the hardships he’d lived with since his mother he didn’t even know the name of was forced to dump him and his twin sister out into the streets to continue whoring herself in a brothel at the orders of her handler left him largely cold and apathetic towards most people, but the man who came into the room at that moment, wiping his hands of water, was certainly not one of them.

“I hope you did not break the Major’s new playthings, Sevari. We worked so hard to acquire them. Think we can ask for the weekend off? I grow tired of the big Orc’s snoring.” He inquired, staring at the curve of his blade up to the firelight. 

Sevari had not gotten up to these sorts of tasks since his days in the Bhaanu Sasra, a token of irony left in his mind that he was once again a member of a secret police force at the service of a larger client government. “I didn’t even get to Villaume. He wouldn’t answer the nicely asked questions but he shit himself when I told him I was going to collect on that tooth debt he’d been racking up since his screaming on the way here.” The Ohmes took a seat next to his comrade and long-time friend. He breathed a bit more well now that he was in the company of someone he trusted, and also because he was now away from the putrid smell of a man fear-shitting himself, “Roux though, waterboarding makes me thirsty.”

He reached over and grabbed up the wine, pouring himself a portion into what was once a probably very restricted and sanctified gaudy goblet of the Dark Brotherhood’s rituals. He downed the contents without any hint of ceremony. After a few moments of thought, he spoke, “I never thought I’d be in such a place. Nor would I have ever thought our lives would have been brought together again in such a way, my friend.”

“I told you I would.” Zaveed replied with a half-hearted shrug. “Besides, you know Senchal is the largest port city in the Southern hemisphere and my base of operations. Even someone like you who’s been gorging on the Imperial Teat would be able to get there easily enough to request my services.” the Cathay replied, slamming his axe down into a mannequin that had been holding his axes as he serviced them. It was cathartic. “Only difference is I’m not the half-starved boy you took pity on. I dare say I’ve tasted much more luxury than you have in the past couple of decades, my friend.”

Sevari nodded, and smirked, “Those without conscience usually do have a better time of it. Truth be told, I thought you’d knife me at the first opportunity when I found you and asked to take me here. Our differences of opinion when it comes to who we have hand over our septims all those moons ago.” Sevari chuckled bitterly, a piece of him still resentful towards who Zaveed chose to serve when their lives had parted ways the first time, “our friends don’t like each other all that much, I’m told. I’m sure they’d pay you well to have me in their jaws, but here we are. I’m touched.”

Zaveed waved a dismissive hand. “You and I both know that was never on the table. The only difference between your government and mine is how pointy the ruler’s ears are. They both employ, ah, morally flexible individuals to do some rather morally bankrupt things in the name of some pretentious justification. I do not much care about who rules over me, so long as I’m a free man with more coin than sense at the end of the day. Besides,” he shot over a toothy grin. “I’d be executed if I tried to seduce the Queen of Alinor, but our dear Governor… she seems fond of the exotic.” he mused with a slight smirk.

“Careful,” Sevari good-naturedly shook a finger Zaveed’s way, “If Saffi and Hessiim’s drunken gossiping is anything to go on, Kerztar might get jealous of being replaced as midnight bed-mate.”

Sevari chuckled, it was true that Zaveed’s allegiance had strayed from his greatly over the years, but a friend does not forget a friend in Elsweyr. His mind wandered back to his first days in Senchal, a brooding and angsty child with a balled fist to the world for all weight it had pressed on his shoulders. His hand brushed his necklace, fingering the beads, “And you’ve misunderstood me all these years. It was never pity I had for you… or her. Your sister.” He asked, tone lower than it had been the rest of the conversation, “She and I haven’t spoken since…” his eyes went from the tabletop to Zaveed’s, wordlessly asking for an answer to the question his lips could not form.

The topic had shifted from playful to dead-serious in a hurry. Zaveed’s ears pulled back as he pulled his other axe free to begin working in its blade; it was a topic he didn’t care to venture into. “Since you decided to leave us alone in the streets to pursue a vengeance that no longer mattered. It is poor taste to abandon one family for one who no longer needs you, yes?” he asked, his tone low and with no small amount of resentment. “You were not there for Marassa when she was arrested and pressed into the army. For what, your father who got involved with the wrong people? There were others who still breathed who depended on you, I hope you do not lose sight of that.” he replied, his voice terse and edging on rueful. “For someone who claimed to love her, you had an interesting way of expressing that when you fled.”

“My decision was made on this task of mine far before I met you, Zaveed. Aeliel took me and my brothers in and to Senchal to serve the Bhaanu Sasra. If it were up to me, I would never have left you there to starve alone.” Sevari looked away and then poured himself another cupful. “Or her. If I could find her now, I would. And I would tell her that leaving is one of my deepest regrets.”

“But they took my family. Wrong people or no, I had to do what I did and I will see it done.” He sighed, “I wish I could set it all aside, but I have always done what I said I would. You two of all people know that.”


“And how many families have we made little orphan boys such as yourself, Sevari?” Zaveed asked, the stone running down the polished blade without friction. “Vengeance is an exhausting endeavor, is it not? Dedicating your life to it rather than caring for everything else you have going on, it’s an illness. Now look at us, half-way across the world and caught up in something remarkably stupid and unlikely.” he looked up to gaze his friend in the eye. “And yet, I had never thought you’d chose such a stupid endeavor over us, but here we are, so many years older and none the wiser. I’d hoped you’d have met up with me again so many years later a changed man, a better one, and yet nothing’s changed. It’s so… droll.” he remarked with a grunt.

“You pick a path and think it’s only for the day.” Sevari looked at his hands, so much larger than that angry boy’s but nothing else changed, “You blink and it’s been years. I could never imagine myself anything else, I don’t know if that’s me being true to myself or me being a stubborn shit like I always was. Both, perhaps.” He smiled, sour.

“Whatever the case may be, you’ve forgotten how to have [I]fun[/I], my friend.” Zaveed replied mirthfully, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Maybe we head out after, go spend our hard earned coin on some questionable consort and entirely too much liquor? You’re getting old, enjoy your life while you can.”

The smile came back to Sevari as he chuckled, “Let’s do that. I’d like to let our friends sit and think on if they really want to play this game of ‘I don’t know’ with us.” Sevari frowned at the other rooms where their guests were kept in, “And I need a break from this damned place. I really think it’s haunted, Harald’s copy of the Lusty Argonian Maid ended up in Saffi’s room. By the third kick, Harald came around to Saffi’s pleading that it wasn’t him.” Sevari chuckled, “Luckily for me, they both sleep heavy and I step softly. Perhaps it’ll be a lesson to stop treating assignments as time to write poems to his favorite whore like last time. I waited under that bridge for hours trying to shake the thugs.”

He stood, stretching his arms and sighed, “Even the bogeymen in the shadows need some time for themselves, hm?”

[hr]

[I]Many years ago, Senchal…[/I]

Sevari stood wide-eyed at the opulent crowds milling about, all the different Khajiit living together in such harmony. He had never seen such a thing in the Torval slums, a Cathay woman with a Dagi about her shoulders, laughing along to a Senche’Raht’s joke. In Torval, that Cathay would never be caught close to the quadrupedal sub-races.

And the jewelry! Worn about wrists and necks and fingers as if pickpockets and muggers were never heard of on these streets. He blinked and swallowed, only then noticing his mouth was agape wide enough for birds to nest. The smell of the sea too, mingling with spices from vendor’s stalls and cooking food at food carts.

“Move, child!” A pink-skin with a face redder than he’d ever seen near drove over him with his cart and horses.

So much movement here. It made his head swim. He ducked into an alleyway to catch his breath, perhaps going off on his own while his brothers got up to whatever mischief was a mistake, but he’d never felt at home with them, why should it start now? He shook that resentful thought away and brought himself back to the moment. He wanted to see everything this place had to offer!

Without warning, careening down the alleyway was a young Cathay, an armful of bread and grapes and two Altmer at his heels screaming for him to stop. He stood wide-eyed in confusion once more until the other child tripped and landed on the ground in a rain of bread heels and fruit around him. One of the guards bent down to grab him up but a rock pelted off his helm, causing him to turn and look at Sevari indignantly.

“Shit on you, knife-ear!” Sevari spat.

The young Cathay grabbed at the gauntleted hand behind him, trying to scratch at the wrist with claws, but only found that metal was hindering his effort. “Let me go!” He shouted kicking back as hard as he could. 

Suddenly, the elf bent over with a shout when something hard clanged off of his helm; a board of wood held by another Cathay that had chocolate-coloured fur and amber eyes, and this prompted the first elf to drop the young cat, giving him a chance to run while the other disappeared down another alleyway. Both took off in opposite directions like a crack of lightning. 

Sevari stood rooted to his spot for a few moments when the Altmer turned to him. The first one didn’t even have time to take his first step before Sevari had sprung off his foot and took off running at breakneck speed away from them. Say anything about his penchant for fighting, but he knew when to choose them and the odds were not in his favor. He spared no thought as to what direction he would take, only letting his body do the thinking. He slowed down only a tad when he was sure he had lost the guards, which was still a good pace, by all means. He narrowly ducked under a board swinging out from behind an alleyway corner fast enough to brain him, tripping up and crashing to the ground in a series of scraping tumbles.

He propped himself up on his elbows, stinging in several places and blood thumping in his head, raising his voice, “Do I look like a [i]damned Knife-Ear?[/i]”

The board was still held aloft. “Don’t follow us! You’ll bring them here!” The girl snarled.

The Cathay boy, however, placed a hand to bring the board down and offered a hand to the fallen Ohmes-raht. “Excuse her, she’s not a big people person. You didn’t have to do that for me.” he said quietly.

Sevari blinked before he took the offered hand, not knowing exactly what to say. This girl was so pretty yet she spat venom at him from the first words they shared. All of this was a lot to him, made only worse by the fact that their eyes never broke until her… friend? Her friend cut through the tension. When the Cathay apologized for his friend and told him his thanks, he only blinked again and then nodded. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure why he did it either when he didn’t have to at all. “Yeah.” Was his only response for a few moments, before he decided that he should probably speak more, glancing at the fiery girl before going back to her compatriot, “I know what it is to be hungry. I’ve taken food before.”

She grunted in annoyance, turning away to break eye contact with the creep who kept staring at her. “I’m going to keep watch. Get rid of him, Zaveed.” she said, an irritation clear in her tone.

The grey-furred one smiled apologetically. “I had assumed that was the case; not many other people stick their necks out for thieves, although... “ he looked back the way they came, a look of defeat across his face. “This is going to be two days without food, I’m not as strong or fast as I was. I’m Zaveed, the bundle of joy over there is my twin, Marassa. I took after mother, we think she’s after father... if you can call either of them anything other than jerks.”

“I can help you get food.” Sevari smiled, something he rarely did since his parents were gone. There was Aeliel, but, well. He seemed to be very distant. “My brother Suffian taught me how to pick pockets, I can get some coins. It’s sneakier than, um,” He cleared his throat, remembering how they’d met in the first place, “You know, just taking the food. But no one chases you if you don’t get caught.”

He waved Zaveed on to follow him, where they stood at the mouth of the alley onto the bustling streets. Sevari eyed the crowd carefully, waiting for a good mark to pursue. He chewed his bottom lip while he waited until he found it, a portly Breton dressed in the style of the upper classes. “Watch me.” Sevari smirked, eager to show his skills.

He pulled the small carving knife from his pocket and tucked it into his sleeve as he moved into the crowds, weaving through them with a practiced ease for such a young Khajiit. Finally, he was behind the Breton. He reached out with his knife but his wrist was caught by the Breton’s surprisingly quick hands. Sevari hissed and bit down on the Breton’s wrist and the big Pink-Skin let go with a yelp, rubbing his bleeding wrist. “Why you- Oh!” Sevari threw the handful of sand he’d grabbed up into the Breton’s eyes, leaving the Pink-Skin spluttering and crying for help while he slinked back into the crowds a pilfered coinpurse richer under the distraction. 

He made his way back to the pair, chewing his bottom lip again. “That never happens, usually.” He chuckled sheepishly before jingling the coinpurse, “We can get food now though.”

Zaveed’s eyes gleamed at the sight of the coins, and even Marassa seemed begrudgingly impressed. “I can’t really say anything, considering how you found us…”

Marassa cut him off. “Why are you helping us? You could have kept that for yourself.” She stated bluntly, stepping over to offer a hard stare at the human-like face that contrasted so much to her own.

He flinched back as Marassa once again questioned his intentions but recovered, that familiar anger that had been simmering low since the raid that took his parents’ lives finally gripping him again, albeit for but a moment, “Why are you being so mean?” The spark had left him with the last word, but he was intent on fanning it, he was growing a little annoyed at his kindness and effort being spat on by this girl, “You’re like the rest! If you want to be rid of me so much then fine, I’ll keep it.”

He made a show of jerking the purse back as if he was worried she might snatch it. He turned around and stalked off down the alleyway but he gritted his teeth and cursed himself as each step grew harder for him to take. By the time he decided to stop, he was at the other end of the alley and wiped a tear from his eye. No matter where he went and who he was with, they always threw his looks back at him. Too mannish to be Khajiit and too Khajiit to ever be a man. He wanted his mother’s kind words, her reassurance, but he swallowed that down and wiped another tear away, “Stop. Fucking. [i]Crying.[/i]” He growled under his breath. He turned back around, purse still held at his side, “If you want to eat, you’ll follow me. If not, I couldn’t care [i]less![/i]”

He continued on at a brisk pace towards the nearest food cart, selling good portions of spiced gazelle and lamb wrapped in the leaves of moonsugar plants. “Three of those.”

“Twelve of those.” The Cathay-Raht manning the cart smiled at Sevari.

Sevari nodded, taking out the set amount by the handful and counting how many was in his hand each time until there was enough coin in the vendor’s own. “Thank you, S’rendarr bless your day.” The Cathay-Raht nodded.

Sevari nodded back as he cradled the three small meals in his arms. He closed his eyes and took a breath, counted to three and turned around, admittedly hoping Zaveed and Marassa were there when he did.

The two of them decidedly were, staring at him with wide eyes and in a sense of disbelieving. Marassa herself had to wipe her mouth indelicately, her hunger overriding the caution she felt. “I… I’m sorry.” she managed, looking somewhat ashamed of her behaviour from before.

Zaveed smiled apologetically. “It’s not been easy for us, and trust is something that can get you hurt if you let the wrong people close. You’re really nice… I never heard your name.” he said, blinking with sudden realization. “Thank you… are we friends?”

Sevari chuckled, looking to the ground and then back to the both of them, relieved and altogether nervous. A part of him wanted them to have not been there, to once again just be alone and find comfort in whatever sense of familiarity he had with being just that. But when he saw the looks on Zaveed and Marassa’s faces, saying nothing to the fact they were still there at all, he felt something better. When Zaveed asked him his name, he took his moment so as not to stammer. 

“Sevari.” He finally said, then offered out the two leaf-wraps, “We can be friends.” He smiled, the expression that small bit more familiar on his lips.

[hr]

“I’ll be damned, they sell lamb here. I have you to thank for introducing me to that.” Zaveed said, the rather busty waitress dropping off the dishes before turning away and walking to the back, Zaveed’s eyes following her all the while. “I remember the first time we met, I ate so quickly I vomited half of it up later. Such a waste.” he mused nostalgically, cutting into the steaming meat with a long and curved carving knife.

Sevari smiled in silence for a bit as he chewed, only opening his mouth to speak after he’d swallowed the moist, tender meat. “It’s my favorite.” He chuckled, “To think it’s only my favorite because it was the first thing I saw all those damned years ago.”

He held one of the lamb chops by the bone, other arm draped over the chair beside him and a foot resting on another across from him. He stared at the cut of meat with a smile, wistful. They were so small then, innocent, as children are wont to be. Or as innocent as [i]they[/i] could be. It was no matter that in those days, he saw more of Zaveed and Marassa than his own brothers- except for maybe Suffian, who’d check up on him every week or so- Zaveed and Marassa had grown as close to him as any family he’d had. Closer, [i]considering[/i] the family he had. “What a time we had back then.” Sevari mused, “I miss it sometimes. Even being hungry together, it at least led to us doing something crazy and laughing at the end of the day.”

“When’s the last time [I]you’ve[/I] actually laughed? You look positively dour most of the time since you discovered my whereabouts weeks ago. The things we had to do to survive, it was a simpler time. Somehow starving to death seemed like lower stakes than the years following would bring. We were somewhat foolish to think life wouldn’t take us away from our little street family, but our reunion now has been nice, even if things are rather… at odds, no?” Zaveed replied, gulping back a not insignificant portion of his trencher and wiping his mouth with a cloth before digging in. He moaned appreciatively of the food, which was a damn sight better than the rations they’d grown accustomed to. “None of us had a fair start to life, it seemed. No families, no fortunes, no education. Just the desire to not die like some piece of shit that would be tossed into a bin at the end of the week, or chopped up and thrown into some mystery stew by some run-down diner.”

“I’ll admit I’ve done a lot more of it since we’ve been together again.” Sevari nodded, “And you should know that’s always been my face. We grew together, I frown. Even then, could you fucking blame me?” Sevari’s head shook.

“We scraped what we became out of the dirt and shit. My opinion? That commands more respect than some poncy, limp-wristed fool learning how to author laws on the dime of their family’s old money.” He put the lamb chop to his mouth and it came away that much less. He chewed, stopping to talk around his food, “Even if my handlers in Cyrodiil put you on my list, I could never do it. The banners behind us might be at odds, but you and I? There’s too much for me there to forsake it. It’s why I felt as safe as I could when I shouldered through that fucking tavern you called a home and asked for you by name.” He laughed softly, “I had my doubts, I hardly slept past allowing myself to blink every other hour the first day.”

Zaveed chuckled, a wide toothy grin crossing his face. “You know full well I’ve never been a patriot; even if the authorities somehow discovered your regrettable choices, what happens on my ship is law. Besides, I could always say that you were a flipped agent and the labyrinthian corridors of Thalmor bureaucracy would have had them scrambling for months to make sense of if you were an agent or if I were lying. What tangled webs we weave, and besides, why do you think I stayed in Senchal? I had a feeling you’d come back.”

[hr]

[I]The Grinning Senche Tavern, Senchal, six weeks ago…[/I]

For a seaside tavern, it was hard to beat the views of [I]The Grinning Senche[/I], the coastal climate allowed for no walls to be erected so the patrons could enjoy the tropical breeze rolling in from where the sea met Topal bay, and the stilted building supported by lumber brought in from the Tenmar Forest. Sailors from at least 5 different vessels drank under its spacious area, lined with carpets and rugs of all manner, and the shelving holding the liquor, ales, and wines were suspended from the ceiling above by chains. In one shaded corner sat a number of floor cushions and a pair of large hookahs, filled with a mixture of moon sugar and liquor, and upstairs, the wooden floorboards creaked under the passionate throes of lovemaking between the courtesans and their clients. 

It was a good atmosphere, and one thing that kept Zaveed returning to this particular port of call, even years down the road. He was such a regular that the staff often tossed him in little gifts and freebies, largely because he was one of the few captains that kept his men in line to respect their workers and the establishment itself, and so the business was good and everyone involved could feel good about their time.

That time, however, seemed like it was swiftly coming to an end when an unexpected face turned up at the [I]Senche’s[/I] gate.

The calming murmur of the tavern that had added to its ambience had died down to a still nothingness that even overpowered the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore. A weathered Ohmes-Raht that forwent the facial tattoos scanned the room with a frowning gaze that did not change a millimeter no matter how severe and intimidating the faces he looked at were. He was made all the more a curious sight by the fact that by the time his slow gaze had swept the entirety of the room, the bouncer had just found the last of his weapons. He thought. The Khajiit stepped forward and into the soft light the torches gave, shadows playing with his chiseled, mannish features.

“I’m looking for Zaveed.” Were the only words he spoke.

 “And who might be asking?” Came a voice from Sevari’s left from a shaded table that sat out from under the roof. A few murmurs broke the silence and Zaveed stood, having taken his boots off of the table and he approached the newcomer, a coin spinning between his fingers and a hand on his axe. “Is there some unsettled business, friend? If I stole your wife for a night, worry not; I paid her.” a few from his crew chuckled at the brashness, but something in Zaveed’s disposition changed as he studied the face. It was the eyes that told the truth, even if the face did not. He blinked slowly.

“...Sevari?” he asked suddenly, taking a step back.

All that came from the other Khajiit was a nod. “I am him.” He said, another glance to the men about the tavern before it settled back on the Khajiit he hadn’t seen in such a long, long time, “I’ve a favor to ask of you.”

The blue-eyed Khajiit’s face soured considerably, his eyes narrowing and his ears pulled back. “Quite some bloody nerve you’ve got, coming back here after all of this time. You leave my sister and I to die, and Alkosh knows how many damned years later, you don’t even say hello, just that you need a favour?” Zaveed stepped to Sevari suddenly, jabbing a finger into the Ohmes-raht’s chest. “From our past, you have my word you can leave here unscathed, but after everything, you come back here, demanding I help you? What delusions consumed you in our time apart? I assure you, distance did not make this one’s heart grow fonder.”

“I demand nothing, Zaveed.” Sevari’s frown grew a tad deeper, “A simple thing of business for the best privateer and smuggler this side of Leyawiin. I can compensate a Khajiit of that stature accordingly.”

Under his exterior, it truly did hurt something in him to be chastised first thing after all the years between then and now. It still remained to be said, Sevari had a job to do, and as much as he wanted to try to mend things between himself and the Khajiit before him it was business first. And he was the only one he trusted to make the journey north with him to fulfill his current assignment. Feelings of family had nothing to do with that, it was simply a matter of him choosing the best smuggler. So he told himself.

“I’m ever so sure that your [I]friends[/I] don’t pay nearly as much as my commission, so I have no inkling what makes you think whatever you’re about to say remotely even worth my time nor effort. You cannot afford my time, nor my attention. Good day to you, and maybe next time we cross paths, you’ll have more to you than a script your masters forced you to spew. Go.” Zaveed snapped, turning and returning to his table. From his back, he pulled the elven dagger with a sapphire pommel and it soon replaced the knife between his fingers. 

A quintet of sailors stood suddenly, staring Sevari down as if daring him to make a move. Sevari’s face did not change, though his heart was aching and he was on the verge of exploding with frustration. The climbing claws disguised as bracelets helped him keep his nerve in the middle of this tavern full of brigands. The quintet flinched for their weapons in unison when Sevari started to raise his hand, but the Khajiit stopped and paused long enough for the precarious calm to recover. Sevari finished bringing his fingers to his lips and whistled, the crack of reins outside the only reply along with the chuffing of horses. “On that cart is enough septims to buy a mercenary company.” Sevari spoke, “This favor is very important.”

“Yes, quite so wise as to announce that to an entire tavern full of privateers, pirates, and brigands alike. Literally the only thing keeping you intact and that wagon full of coin is the fact that I will it so.” Zaveed replied, glancing away for a few moments in agitation before eventually relenting and gesturing to the seat across from him. “But fine, I’ll entertain this schrade long enough to decide whether or not our past means enough for me to keep my word. That is entirely your decision, Sevari; choose wisely.”

Sevari’s heart relented a tad as he stepped up to Zaveed’s table. One of the quintet of large, scary, scarred and tattoo’d sailors lagged a bit in his way and they locked eyes, neither of them relenting. Finally, the large Nord stepped to the side and Sevari took the offered seat. “I know my name tastes like piss in your mouth, Zaveed. I need a good smuggler to take me north, to Hammerfell. You don’t even have to dock, I’m arranged to be picked up and ferried to my destination once I get close enough. You’ll be free of me then.”

As if washing said name from his mouth, Zaveed took a drink from his trencher before setting it down and lacing his fingers on the table. “So far, not good. Why now, why not sooner? You’ve barely paid the barest minimum of courtesy, considering I thought of you as my own flesh and blood, and right now I’m having a hard time differentiating you from any Altmer passenger I’ve carried.” he said, bypassing the offer. He wasn’t letting Sevari get off without an explanation; it had been over twenty years since they’d last seen one another.

He almost cringed at that, that small piece of him that still cared when others called him anything but Khajiit. And that small boy he was long ago that shared meals with the Khajiit before him ached. Sevari sighed, leaning back in his seat, wondering whether to tell him everything. Zaveed deserved an explanation of why he disappeared and where to. He didn’t know whether to divulge who his employers were though. “It wasn’t my choice, Zaveed.” He answered lamely. “I was a boy when I met you and I was still only a boy when they took me.”

“And now you're here, a stranger in all but name, who cannot speak of anything but wanting me to endanger my ship and my crew for some mysterious assignment with a wagon of coin to buy our silence.” Zaveed said, leaning forward with a scowl. “Was it ‘taken’ or was enticed to leave’, I have a hard time differentiating the two. You always have a choice. You chose a stranger over us, and you expect me to believe your good intentions now?”

“It isn’t a choice when the Bhaanu Sasra comes for you, Zaveed.” Sevari said, head shaking, “I understand why you hate me now. If you left me alone with no note, no anything, just an empty bedroll next to you, I’d want answers too. And every year added between that and when I saw you again would only be more resentment.”

“Aeliel gave me a debt when he took me and my brothers away from digging beggars’ graves in Torval. It was just shitty timing when he decided to collect on it.” Sevari met Zaveed’s indignant gaze, “I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. If I didn’t still love you and you your sister, I wouldn’t have kept her necklace. All those years spent away from you, I didn’t want you to be involved in any of it, to see what they made me. But now you do.”

Zaveed massaged his temples with a pair of fingers. “We’ve all tales to spill, to be sure. But fine, what is this job you’re trying to press me into? Why Hammerfell? If you want my help, I need to know everything.” He leaned forward, tapping a claw into the table between them with a long finger. “Ev-er-y thing. I don’t care what shadowy master has you by the balls, you owe me some transparency. So, what could possibly be worth weeks of my life to help you?”

[hr]

The streets brought a chill to Sevari, who wrapped his robes tighter. He and Zaveed walked in silence for a few moments, both enjoying the scenery and architecture of Hammerfell. The moons were just starting to rise, bringing a soft light to the sky but doing little to illuminate the streets, which hardly bothered the two Khajiit. “When I heard about the great and terrible Captain Greywake, I never thought it’d be you, to tell the truth.” Sevari spoke, “I was just looking for a great smuggler, but when I was told who it was, I didn’t believe it. Until I looked at Captain Greywake. I knew who I was looking at. I didn’t know whether to be proud or…”

“Firmly disappointed I did not turn out to be an accountant or something equally boring and detestable? When were either of us going to have kind and generous lives, Sevari?” Zaveed mused, biting into an apple as they walked and chewing thoughtfully before continuing. “At least this way, my name is immortalized, even if my body and soul are not. Alas, I simply grasped the cards that life had dealt me and cleaned out the house. It is an impressive achievement, is it not? Starting with literally nothing and propelling myself to infamy and considerable influence?”

“Where did that leave Marassa, Zaveed?” He shook his head, hand straying to the necklace she’d given him those years ago, “It doesn’t make it any better that I wasn’t the one that apprehended her. Thievery isn’t the jurisdiction of the Bhaanu Sasra. I’ve heard whispers from my associates that she’s doing well enough for herself, but I hardly think the reunion would be any better than ours, given where life’s hands has put us. Facing each other on the board.”

“I have no love for the Thalmor, but I love you two like my own blood.”

“I’ve not heard from her for some time,” Zaveed admitted, his gaze following another shapely woman who had passed by with her male companion for a few moments before turning back to Sevari. “She’s her own person who made her own choices. Like me, she took a terrible situation and made a name for herself. Why shouldn’t she be proud of her accomplishments? She’s done so well that even many of the Altmer bend to her will, which is better than she would have had if she’d been left to her own devices and not been given a chance to ascend.” he paused, considering the circumstances with a grim smile. “Were you to find her, right this moment, what would you even say to her, hm? Do you think she’d approve of who you’d become, or that she’d be able to look past that and just enjoy the moment?”

“No.” Sevari shook his head, sad and slow, “But we’d both know we have our jobs to do. It’s a dangerous world for people like us. I’m sure she knows that. She’s always been strong, but so have we all, each of us.” Sevari frowned, sighing, “I doubt she’d approve of either of us. I only hope my task doesn’t bring me to face her.”

“This task that lost me my ship and my entire crew?” the privateer inquired caustically, taking a rueful bite from the apple.

“A simple setback for Captain Greywake. Names would flock to you if you whispered you were hiring in any of these seedy taverns we go to.” Sevari frowned, “I didn’t conjure up that storm, nor did I write a letter to the Governor to kindly accost us on the shore.”

“And yet, it was your appealing to a long-dead history that prompted me to take you up on your offer at great personal risk that even cost me that nice payment you offered.” Zaveed replied, rolling his eyes. “I could have been quite contented in Senchal, raiding ships upon Topal Bay, and not be stuck in shackles held by the bloody Dwemer because you’re loyal to people who have done nothing but shit upon our people since they conquered us so many moons ago.”

“It was our people that never accepted me as one of their own. That doesn’t direct me in anything I’ve done, my associates feed me what I need to know about my task. Show me another who will do the same for me that I can trust and I’ll call him an ally.” Sevari clucked his tongue, “With all this talk about me bending over for the unseen hand of another, you seem to be nagging at me atop a fine high horse given to you by those Knife-Ears.”

Sevari shot a frowning glance at the man he called his brother, “The same people who turned an orphan into a killer, that took your friend, your brother, away from you in the dead of night and turned him into me. That took my brothers and came for me next. The same people who burned everything I held dear to send a message, make an example for questioning the strings on me.” Sevari spat, “What would you do if they executed Marassa for her crimes instead of pressed her into their service?”

Zaveed scowled. “Oh, it was quite a fine high horse they gave me, alright. Scooping shit and peeling vegetables by day, being passed from crewmate to crewmate, or to settle a bar tab at night. It was glorious life being degraded into even less than a street rat, Sevari. I am ever so grateful for the opportunity they gave me; indentured servitude with no pay, reducing me to nothing but a toy for their desires. It wasn’t until I had enough and drive a knife through the quartermaster’s heart did they start to see me as anything but that.” he spat upon the ground as they walked, his hands gripping his axes tightly in tense hands.

“Had they killed her, I would have died trying to take down as many of them as I could because she was the only family I had left. I only stayed alive because I didn’t want my actions reflecting badly upon her.”

Sevari stopped walking and stepped up to his friend, his brother, “You killed a man for rubbing your face in shit so long you couldn’t stand it anymore. You would’ve avenged your family.” Sevari looked Zaveed up and down, “Don’t ever judge me for pulling Aeliel’s guts out through his stomach while he screamed for mercy in my face for doing the same to Jivami and Fusosi.”

“Don’t ever judge me for seeking to destroy everything the Thalmor has built or is trying to wherever I find it.” Sevari’s gaze did not waver, “Don’t ever doubt that I would have done everything I’ve done so far and more if it were you and Marassa hanging from those poles in Senchal. I was kidnapped, Zaveed, forced to pay a debt forced upon me weeks before I met you with my very way of life. When will you stop blaming me.”

“When you stop blaming others for the choices you made. We’re all products of our decisions, Sevari, and as much as you tell yourself you were at the mercy of those people and had to bend to their wills, you could have walked away from it, or at least tried to. What you are is a product of your own decisions, not mine. The only difference is I never sought you out to ask you to put yourself and everything you’ve accomplished at risk for my own selfish desires.” Zaveed shook his head ruefully. “Like you, I could have fled back into the streets every time I made port to escape their cruelty, but I chose not to, because it was likely the only chance I had to make anything of myself. Now all of it is gone, sunk to the bottom of the sea, because you asked me to betray my duties to help you. You asked me what I’d sacrifice if they’d simply killed my sister instead of recruiting her? Look what I sacrificed for [I]you[/I].”

Sevari grimaced, taking a step back. His friends words angered him, not because they were insulting or scathing, but he knew they were true to an extent. He looked his brother in the eyes and for a moment, he saw them through the eyes of the child he once was, food in his arms for the only two people he found a place with since Suffian or his mother. He swallowed, before speaking gravely “You act as if a debt of blood is so easily forgiven or forgotten.” Sevari said, “I could’ve crossed you off my list of potential smugglers to get me here. Perhaps I should’ve. But here we are.”

Sevari shook his head, “I don’t want to spend it under a thunderhead of arguing. Make my own choices for once?” Sevari asked, a quick smile flashed across his face before it dropped into the resting frown again, “I’ll be a product of my choice to go back to our hole. Be a product of your choice to follow me or not.”

Zaveed grunted. “The night is young yet, and I have a job to do. Farewell, Sevari. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more positive tidings for us both.” the Cathay said tersely, stepping ahead and walking apart from Sevari, the gap between them growing ever wider.