Count Only The Happy Hours

Part 1: V

There were times, Vivec knew, that a chiding should be left as is, without any argument. This was absolutely one of those times. So, with a resigned sigh, he got to his feet, thanked Alandro for his wisdom, and made his way out.

"You're brooding so loudly, Vehk."

"I'm not brooding ."

"You are. My sister did exactly what you're doing whenever she got in trouble." Sil looked over his shoulder. "It's brooding."

Vivec sighed, getting up to pace around the room. They'd been set up in the family's library, with strict instructions to stay put and a plan in place to hide if anyone came in. While Vivec felt like he was minutes away from crawling out of his skin over their imprisonment (because that's what it was ), Sil couldn't be less bothered. He'd taken advantage of the library's desk–fitted with a hands-free magnifying glass that could be adjusted–and laid out the remains of his spider, looking over each gear and metal bit curiously. He'd methodically push pieces together, then set them in different piles before making a note. It'd be fascinating to watch, if Vivec was in a better mood.

"So I'm going to guess that you aren't supposed to have those tools," Vivec said, leaning against a bookshelf. Sil stiffened for a moment, pausing in his sorting. "Why did you take them?"

Sil hesitated before glancing up. "I wanted to learn how to make the things they did," he said. "There wasn't time to really watch them, and the architect we were talking with said it'd take years for me to learn anyway." He shrugged, pushing a gear back and forth. "We don't have years, and I thought I could...I could figure it out on my own." He sighed. "But it doesn't matter now that the Nords have my bag. Not that they'd know what to do with them anyway." He let out a quiet, irritated noise. "But now I can't do anything with this."

"There's a lesson here. Something about actions having consequences and risks." Vivec grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. "Suppose we've both learned that one." He dropped into one of the seats, head falling back. "We're prisoners , Seht. From our own friends, no less."

Sil's lip twitched. "You really are like Nall," he said quietly, returning to his gears. "It's just a little punishment. Once, just a few months ago, she and I snuck out to..."

He was cut off as the door to the library opened. Both of them started to get up to hide, but it was only Voryn, a plain brown bag gripped in his hand. He gestured for them to stay put as he shut the door behind him.

"The Nords have been taken care of. It'll be wise to stay here for at least another day, but you won't need to worry next time you go out," he said simply, then tossed the bag to Vivec, who was closer. "I found your bag as well, though you'll have to make sure everything's still in it.

I don't think they had time to pawn anything off, but it's not unlike Nords to toss out anything they deem unimportant." He glanced between the two of them. "I hope it's already been made clear that something like this can't happen again."

"Abundantly," Vivec said dryly. He let out a sigh, slumping in the seat before reluctantly adding, "Thank you, Voryn."

Voryn let out a breath, crossing his arms. "Much as I hate admitting it, we are kin in a sense. What the Nords did was unacceptable, and I'd sooner have tea with Molag Bal than let that go unpunished." He gave his head a little shake, then swept back out.

Vivec got to his feet, walking Sil's bag over to him. He set the bag on the table, then frowned slightly as he looked at the strap. "Looks like you might've bled onto it. Luckily, I've gotten very good at getting battle stains out of everything, and we've nothing better to do."