Count Only The Happy Hours

Part 1: VI

"You know, you've been so quiet about the trip you took with Neht," he said with mock-ease, quickening their pace. "Down below. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"What? Oh, uh, yes."

"You never tell me anything anymore, Sil. I crave details."

"I've never..."

"Tell me what it was like." He glanced back; the Nord was still trailing them. A shift of his hips showed off his sword, and a brief glance down to it sent a clear enough message: Not worth the fight. The Nord deliberated, but eventually limped back toward her stoop.

"Well...Dumac was right about the spiders being bigger. They're much bigger, and surprisingly unwieldy. I think it'd be easy to make them lighter, more aerodynamic even. The centurions, too; they're very impressive, but they can move so little. One of the...they call them architects, the people who build the animunculi...said that they have to be built that way to allow steam to work through them, but..." Sil's eyes glanced around, studying again. "There must be a better way."

Danger behind them, Vivec allowed himself a puff of laughter as he dropped his arm. "One trip to the Dwemer and you're already trying to outdo them?" Sil didn't deny it, and Vehk tutted before teasing, "Careful, Sil. Every story featuring that kind of hubris ends poorly."

"I'm just thinking ," Sil shot back. "I'm not...telling them they're wrong, just noticing things."

He shifted his bag as they approached the inn; there was the tiniest metallic noise that came from it, and a cagey shift in Sil's shoulders that suggested he might have taken something he shouldn't have. Vivec weighed his options; the situation was too perilous for him to press on this, he decided. The last thing they needed while out here alone was a quarrel–even if it was a little amusing to think about what a quarrel with Sil would look like.

"Well, I say we do a little reconnaissance tonight," Vivec says as they enter, ushering Sil ahead of him. "Neht and Voryn won't be in until tomorrow, so we've a whole night to get a feel of the city–starting with the tavern in here. I can't recall, are you old enough to drink sujamma, Seht?"

"I...well, technically, yes. In my family, at thirteen we're considered adu–" His last word is cut off by Vivec more or less yanking him to the bar.

"Then let's find some stories to tell the others. This time, you can even correct me if I get anything wrong."

It was excellent cover, really, the two of them spending their evening in the tavern; Vivec had caught several laughs from other patrons, some obviously reminiscing of their own past adventures as the two of them sat in heated discussion over...oh, by the Three, he couldn't even remember in the morning. Probably metaphors. Certainly nothing warranting suspicion; just two young fellows off on what must be their first adventure.

But beyond establishing themselves as non-threats, it was nice . For a very brief moment, there wasn't revolution or destruction hanging over their heads, no strategizing or briefing or trying to ply Houses with pretty words. Just stories and drinks and jokes...Sil even laughed at something he said, and the only regret Vehk had was that, by morning, he couldn't remember what it had been.

But oh , poor Seht that morning. The boy seemed to get by on chronically little sleep, but when Vivec awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, and he could just see a peek of white hair under the bedclothes in the bed beside his, a definitive cloud of misery hanging over it. Vivec couldn't help his laugh, which prompted an irritated " Shhhh! " from beneath the blankets.

"I know, you must feel terrible. I was certain I was going to die the first time I overindulged ." He reached down, lightly resting a hand on what had to be a shoulder. "I'm going to go out to see if Neht and Voryn have gotten into town yet, and I'll have some saltrice mash and keveh sent up–you'll be feeling better in no time, I promise."