[h3]At the Table[/h3]

[i]Evening, 17th Sun’s Height
Falkreath[/i]

[hr]

It had not been too long since the raucous crowds had died down outside, and with a spring in her step, Ivy made her way towards the tavern, for some warmth and hopefully a drink of some sorts. She’d left Calen somewhere, with dreams in his heart and a song on his lips to wind him off to a restful sleep - and yet she still felt so very alive and awake.

She seemed to bounce through, patrons of the room offering her nods and smiles. For what it was worth, any usual racial tensions between Nords and Dunmer did not apply to her - not to their own personal harlequin, ready at all times to deliver joy to weary souls. She’d been sure to cover herself. In one of her favourite woolen throws that she wore like a shawl. It looked as soft as a cloud in it’s rich teal hue, draped around her figure and tucked into a belt made of coins. 

“Good one tonight Eva, you were reaaaaal’gud,” slurred a swaying gentleman in her direction, grabbing at her arm to stop her so he could speak to her one on one. She wasn’t quite fond of being grasped at, but it brought no anger to her - instead she simply chuckled at him and scratched the underside of his chin - his beard prickly.

“Oh my darling Sven, as much as I’d love to hear you compliment me all night - I have places to be and people to see…” she trilled with enthusiasm. With her hand in his, she raised it above her head and spun underneath it - much to his delight. 

“Alri’ then, alri,” he responded happily - clearly enthralled at her whirling, as his eyes continued to spin in their sockets long after she’d stopped. The coins around her waist jangled as she swayed away. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted a presence - an Argonian. One of the new arrivals too, she hadn’t seen his face and she [i]never[/i] forgot a face. That alone was enough to sway her from simply approaching the bar herself. Instead, she carried herself with a layer of excitement to his table.

Ivy found that as she drew nearer to him, his energy was different to the other patrons. Easy to miss a sullen ember in a fire of joy - but hard to ignore once you knew it was there. She slowed her steps, and approached more carefully, quietly, appearing at his side. “Is this seat taken?” she asked in a kindly voice, her palm reaching out to the back of the very obviously, empty chair.

Jaraleet was about to reply when he raised to his head to see the newcomer that was talking to him. His words immediately died in his throat when he noticed that who was talking to him was a Dunmer and, for a split second, red filled his vision. He forced himself to take a deep breath, to anchor himself to the present; he was no longer in Argonia, he was in Skyrim, and not every Dunmer that he’d run into would be an enemy.  

“It isn’t.” He finally replied, unable to keep some of the hostility that had filled his mind from leaking into his tone of voice. “You might take it if you wish. It is all the same to me.” Jaraleet said, motioning for one of the servers to bring him another drink. It wouldn’t be wise for him to start a commotion in the middle of the tavern and, hopefully, a strong drink would help him keep his emotions under control. 

Ivy was used to that. The poison of prejudice against who she was, although it always felt… Understandable when the poison came from an Argonian. “If you’d rather be alone, of course I understand.” She commented, pushing the chair back under the table, the legs groaning against the floor. “Been a bit curious about you and your friends, is all.” She gave him a smile before placing a hand on the table to lean on. “I’m Ivy, by the way-” giving a name always made things more personal, made it harder for people to paint you with the brush of their choosing. “What’s yours?”

Jaraleet nodded his thanks when the Dunmer woman mentioned that she understood if he’d rather be alone. However, when she mentioned that she had been curious about him and the others in the group, the assassin felt himself tensing almost immediately. “Makes sense, after all, we are the newcomers here, can’t blame you for being curious, or even suspicious.” He replied, keeping his tone of voice neutral. 

He looked at the woman as she placed her hands on the table to lean on it. “Jaraleet, my name is Jaraleet.” He finally said, motioning to the empty chair with one hand. “As I said before, the chair is free, so if you feel inclined to seat, you might do so.” The Argonian finished as the server he had called brought him his drink which, much to his surprise, turned out to be ale from his homeland, causing a small smile to draw itself on the Argonian’s face as he took a sip of the all-too familiar ale. 

“Oh,” Ivy cooed, pulling the seat back out and slinking down into it, elbows on the table. “I’m never suspicious, only curious.” Her red eyes sparkled as she observed the gentleman and his drink. He was defensive about something. “You have journeyed with your companions for some time?” she asked, her head tilting to the side. “You all seem to have had quite an adventure to find yourselves here. Maybe this is a nice reprieve from troubles…” 

Jaraleet shook his head when Ivy mentioned that she was never suspicious, only curious. “I suppose we are opposites in that regard, then.” Was all he said as he took another sip of his drink as he contemplated on whether or not to answer her question. “Yes, we’ve been travelling together for quite some time. I wouldn’t say that I’m friends, or even close, with everyone but…” He paused as he searched for the right word, taking another drink of his ale. “But there are people who are dear to me in the group. Very dear, as a matter of fact.” Jaraleet finished, turning his focus towards Ivy. 

He chuckled darkly when she said that it seemed like they had had quite the adventure, that Falkreath was perhaps a reprieve from their troubles. “The last time things seemed to be going that way, we ended in worse trouble than before. I’m not letting my guard down again, no offense to the people of Falkreath.”  

"It hasn't been easy then?" Ivy asked, shifting in her seat to face him. "I mean most journeys in war are difficult… But you've had each other, that must have made the troubles less trouble to deal with?" She blinked several times in Jaraleet's direction, head tilting to the other side, like the motion of an inquisitive animal. This man was going to be hard to crack…

Jaraleet was silent for a moment as he thought on Ivy’s words, about how having each other must have made the troubles easier to deal with. He couldn't help but feel bitter as he remembered what Gregor’s action had set in motion, about the heartache that the discussion with Meg on the Alik’r desert had caused him. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no.” He finally answered, emptying the last of his ale and ordering another drink. “You must have travelled yourself a fair bit, I'm sure you understand the meaning of my words.” 

She grinned at him, "oh yes - I've travelled the world a few times over by now… I think I understand." She could sense his bitterness, it couldn't easily be concealed by him. It was interesting to think about how his experience had been different to Calen's and to Meg's. "Your bard friend is a delight! I'm afraid actually that he is the only gentleman I have really spent time with from your party. But I wish to talk to everyone in time." She sighed, hoping that might help him to open up. "Are you close with Calen?" 

Jaraleet shrugged, looking at Ivy in the eyes. “No, not really, I have only spoken to him only once and we didn’t exactly see eye to eye that one time we talked. Ever since then we haven’t spoken.” The Argonian said simply, drumming his fingers on the table. “So, no, I can’t say we are close. He is, or was I suppose, close to Gregor. I don’t know, I usually keep to myself most of the time.” 

"Well," she began with a resigned sigh, "we can't always see eyes to eyes with everyone," Ivy shrugged. She'd had many an experience with that, her views and ways were not exactly sitting on the side of normal. "So, well, who are you close to? It feels almost as though your group has divides!" 

“That is a fair assessment, we aren’t exactly very cohesive at our best. Much less at our worst.” Jaraleet said in response to Ivy’s comment that their group seemed to have divides.The Argonian paused for a second as he pondered whether or not to answer honestly to the Dunmer’s question about who he was close to before deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to be honest this time. “Gregor, Meg, Sevari, and Finnen, though the last one is missing from our group.” He said with a slight frown. “Also Raelynn, though she too has left our group.” He paused for a second, his thoughts briefly wandering over to the Breton healer who had been one of the first people he had met after leaving Argonia and with whom he had made a connection. “Wherever she is, I’m sure she is safe. She is strong, I’m sure that she’ll be fine, but I do hope that I can meet her again soon.” Jaraleet said, a note of concern in his voice.    

"Well that's a handful of good friends!" Ivy chuckled, holding up a hand with splayed fingers, wiggling each one as if they all represented the named friends. "And they're all really lucky to have you too. I'm sensing that you're a protective kind of friend, that you'd stand in the line of fire for any one of those. Am I right?" 

“They are, aren’t they?” Jaraleet said, his tone soft and fond, a smile drawing on his lips as he thought of the friends that he had made on the journey that he had stepped on ever since Skingrad. He nodded when Ivy mentioned that he was a protective friend, smiling again though the gesture didn’t reach his eyes like it had done before. “I’d give my life if it meant that they’d be safe.” The Argonian said, his voice somber but full of conviction.  

"That's very beautiful, Jaraleet." The Dunmer brought her elbows to the table and laced her fingers together, leaning closer to Jaraleet. Her red eyes flashed with something mysterious as she placed her chin on her knuckles. "Hmmmm, have you told that to them? Expressed yourself, I mean?" Her eyebrow quirked as she ran her words over his bitterness, finding her way upon something he was sensitive about.

Instinctively, Jaraleet backed up as Ivy leaned closer to him; he wasn’t used to that, to people approaching him physically upon their first meeting. Once that was done, he paused for a second and pondered the question that the Dunmer had presented to him. As he thought about the question, the ale that he had ordered was placed on the table and, without thinking, the Argonian paid for the liquor, taking a sip of the alcohol before he replied. “I….I haven’t, I am not the most expressive person, truth be told.” He finally admitted, letting out a sigh. 

“Well, expression and vulnerability is simply a muscle that needs to be used and worked at in order to strengthen,” Ivy offered with a smile, noticing his backing away. She did the same, leaning back comfortably into her chair. He did not like being crowded, and so she opened herself. One leg slipped over the other, and an arm hung over the back of the chair. “You can always try with small steps of expression - even if it hurts, it also heals given enough time.” It seemed to Ivy like even his admission was a bigger step than he would have been comfortable admitting to a stranger. Her ears twitched slightly and she smiled more. “What would you say to your friends right now if they were all here?”

Jaraleet was silent for a moment, pondering the question. What would he tell his friends if they were all here? His thoughts drifted through everyone he had met during his travels….and further past them, back to his fellow trainees, to the brother who had given his life for him. And then, his thoughts returned to the present, to Finnen and Sevari. He took a long drink from his mug and when he looked at Ivy there was no mirth in his eyes, only a grim certainty shone in the Argonian’s eyes.

“I do not know.” He finally answered, finishing his drink and standing up from his seat. “But there is something that I must do now, farewell.” Jaraleet said as he stepped towards the door that led outside. He had to find Sevari, it had been too long since he had last talked to the Khajiit and there were important matters that they had to discuss about a certain Reachman.  

A chill slithered down the Dunmer’s spine. Her lips tugged to the side. Jaraleet was the darkness she had felt earlier that evening.

She hoped that somewhere on his path, a flicker of light would touch him.