Two Argonians and a Baby

21 Morning Star, 3E 409

            The streets of the Market District were unusually quiet, even for a harsh winter’s evening such as this. Normally one could at least hear laughter and music coming from the Feed Bag—the local pub—or the Merchant’s Inn. The muffled shouting of a couple might drift through closed doors in one of the small houses above the shops. A drunk might be heard wandering along the cobblestone road, singing a raunchy tune in slurred, off-key notes. This evening, however, the snow—and the deathly chill that accompanied it—seemed to cast a stark silence over the city.  Everyone who had a home to go to was safely locked inside, sitting by a blazing fire, and the beggars on the streets huddled together to keep warm, wasting no energy on conversation.

            Only two individuals seemed active this night, faintly illuminated by the flickering orange glow of a nearby street lamp. The taller of the two took the lead, while the smaller trailed behind, carefully stepping into the footprints his brother left in the snow.

            “Haj,” the young Argonian complained, “C-can you please slow down?”

            Hides-His-Heart looked back at his brother, the frill on his spine rising in mild agitation. Swims was far too young for this life. It had been a year since their parents had died—slaughtered by a Dark Brotherhood assassin for debts incurred. Their late father had been addicted to gambling and had, until his obsessions caught up to him, been relatively successful, allowing his family to live in comfort. They had been well-fed, educated, and were being groomed to take over their mother’s clothing shop.

            Then his luck had run out.

            Normally, the City would have intervened, sending the children to an orphanage or allowing Hides to work as an apprentice to earn food and shelter. These, however, were dark times. The sole orphanage in the Imperial City was full to capacity, and few people were doing well enough for themselves to afford any extra mouths to feed.

            Now Hides was forced to look after his five-year-old brother, who still wouldn’t accept that their parents were gone. He would ask when they could go home even when they were home; inquiring when mama and papa would find them. They had settled in the Imperial City’s sewers, moving around when cave rats or greater threats—like lone goblins—would take residence in their ‘home.’ He would have left his sibling in the warmth of their makeshift shelter while he went in search of food, but did not wish to risk his brother’s safety. 

            He sighed heavily, a rasping, hissing sound that brought with it the faint scent of sulfur. “I am sorry, marsh-brother. We need to find food soon, so we can get out of this cold. Weren’t you just complaining about how hungry you are? I believe your exact words were ‘I’m starving.’”

            “Well, now I’m tired. And f-f-freezing. I c-can’t feel my tail. Or my t-t-toes.”  He started stamping his feet as if to make a point.

            “It won’t be long, I promise,” Hides said, hoping he wouldn’t make a liar of himself. “Just try to keep up, ok? You’re doing fine.”

            “If my t-tail falls off, it’s your fault.”

            “If your tail falls off, we’re eating it.”

            Swims stared at him, eyes wide with horror.

            “I’m kidding. Come on.”

***

            They had searched through crates in various alleyways for what must have been hours, hoping to find even a crumb of bread one of the merchants or nobles might have thrown away, to no avail. Hides’ stomach growled painfully, and he heard his brothers’ do the same. “Chin up, I’m sure the next alley will yield something.”

            “That’s what you said last time!” Swims whined. Seeming to realize throwing a fit would get him nowhere, or simply lacking the energy to bellow out more than one complaint, he fell silent and followed Hides dutifully.

            Hides marched along in the cold, stomping with each step to tamp down the snow, leaving a slightly less treacherous path for his brother. He kept his nose to the air, sniffing, occasionally opening his mouth to expose his scent glands, only to close it moments later when it felt like his teeth would freeze out. “Wait,” he said suddenly, throwing out a hand to halt Swims. “I smell meat.” He flashed the child a smile, which was heartily returned.

            Following his nose, he led his brother to the nearest alleyway. It was dark and something about it twisted his gut. He stopped short, clicking his teeth in agitation.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing,” he lied. It probably was nothing. Even so, they needed food; whatever had filled him with a sense of foreboding could surely be no more dangerous than starvation. Hunger drove him into the shadows, Swims clinging to his heels.

            Hoping to find a slab of beef or pork—or anything, really—Hides pried open the nearest crate, but found only smithing supplies. They must be behind the armor shop, The Best Defense. He slammed down the lid in frustration and an instant later a wail pierced the air. It was a pitiful, mewling sound and it was coming from further in the alley.

            “Is that a cat?” Swims said in wonder, though a note of fear made it into his voice. “C-can we eat it? I know papa said we’re not supposed to, ’cause they could be people’s pets but-”

            “Hush!” Hides snapped. He slunk along the shadows, following the source of the noise. Huddled in a pile of blankets in a nearby crate was a bundle of spotted gray fur—it was moving, tiny little claws swiping at the air. Swims was right—sort of. It was a Khajiit kitten; she couldn’t be more than a month old. Hides tentatively picked her up, even as he feared a trap. “Where are your parents, little one?” he rasped, though he knew the child couldn't answer. 

            “It’s a baby?”

            “Yes.” He looked around tentatively, then knelt down so Swims could see, pulling back the blanket around her face. “Come have a look.”

            Swims leaned in, his nose almost touching the baby’s. She pawed at his face and he drew back, eyes sparkling. “Can we keep her, Haj-Ital?”

            It’ll be another mouth to feed, he thought bitterly, but who leaves a child out in the cold? Well, everyone, apparently. Suddenly it hit him—the smell of meat. Blood. He opened his mouth again, drawing the scent across his tongue and nearly gagging. His head snapped downward and toward the very back of the alley. “Hang on, Swims. Here, hold her close and stay right there, ok?” He said, carefully passing the Khajiit to his brother’s waiting arms.

            “Where are you going?”

            “Not far,” Hides promised. He slunk along, letting his eyes adjust to the dim moonlight that filtered in through the mouth of the alley. Suddenly he saw them—two figures, partially hidden under the snow and ice. The woman looked almost like an elf, save for the tail and the thin layer of fur covering her ears; tiger stripes were tattooed onto her face. The male was huge and hulking, with fur so thick it was impossible to mistake him for anything other than feline. Both were sliced open, sprawled in the snow, expressions frozen in terror. They had been murdered- possibly a scuffle over food, but their clothing was nice enough it could have simply been over greed.

            Hides didn’t want to find out what it had been over; chances were the murderers might still be nearby. He ran to Swims, scooping the Khajiit up and grabbing his brother by the wrist as he tore down the street.

            “Wait! What’s wrong?” Swims panted, his tiny legs having to work double-time to keep up.

            “I’ll tell you later!” Hides huffed. He turned down the main street, talons ticking on ice-slicked cobblestone, lamps glowing from distant windows providing a beacon of hope. He didn’t care how the nobles and merchants viewed him; he needed help. He threw open the heavy wooden door to the Merchants Inn, the blast of cold air causing one of the nearby candles to flicker out. 

            They were met with a deathly silence, until—

            “By the Nine!” a woman’s voice shrieked, “Get those urchins out of my inn, they’re filthy!” It was coming from the Breton publican. “They’ll drive away my guests!”

            “Yes ma’am!” a guard said, stumbling out of his formerly relaxed position at the bar.

            The noise must have disturbed the Khajiit, however, because she wailed, squirming in Hides’ arms. The guard who had moved to apprehend them drew back, his expression changing from stern to confused, then softening to sympathy.

            “What is that?” The woman snapped, pushing her way toward them.

            “They’re just children, ma’am,” the guard started, “You can’t just turn ‘em out into th—”

            The woman bristled, “I can and I will! There’s no law that says I have to feed every street urchin that comes into my establishment! Besides, who would pay for their room? Their food? I certainly won’t!!”

            “Ysona,” a calm voice said from the corner, “Let them stay the night—in fact, let them stay ‘til the snow melts. Give them food, too. Two meals a day, at least.”

            “An’ who’s gonna pay for all this?” Ysona snapped.

            “I will.” The middle-aged Imperial smiled pleasantly and shoved a small pile of coins across the table. “You know I’m good for it.”

            Ysona frowned, cursing under her breath, but deflated. “Fine! They’d better not be any trouble or it’s on your head, Phillida!”

            “They’re just kids, Ysona,” Phillida chided, a note of amusement in his voice, “They’re not going to be any trouble.”

            While the two bickered, Hides cautiously approached the guard, tugging lightly on his sleeve.

            “Er- yes?” He made a face—he was clearly uncomfortable. Maybe it was because they were homeless? Or Argonians? Hides was well aware what some of the humans and elves thought of the ‘beast’ races. He ignored it.

            “Sorry to bother you,” he said, “But I came here because there was a murder.” He glanced down at the Khajiit, who had settled down in his arms and was now yawning, nuzzling her face into his chest. “This one’s parents were killed.”

            The guard blanched. “Where are they?”

            “In the alley behind the Best Defense.”

            The guard nodded stiffly, “We’ll look into it right away.” He marched over to another guard who had somehow managed to sleep through the commotion, kicking the man’s legs off the table and gesturing to the door, speaking in hushed tones. He gave Hides a curt nod as they left the inn.

            Hides stared at the door, at a loss now that the immediate danger was over. He glanced down at Swims, who was clutching at his arm, torn between staring at the shiny baubles on the bar and cooing at the Khajiit. He seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on and Hides couldn’t be more thankful.

            “Excuse me.”

            Hides flinched and looked up at the intruder. It was the Imperial.

            “You’re staying in my room tonight. Ysona just wants you out of sight. Come with me.”

            Hesitantly, Hides followed the man up the stairs, beckoning for Swims to do the same. They stopped at a small room with two twin beds and a round table, around which sat two chairs. There was a bookshelf, too, but the contents were sadly sparse, containing only two books, both of which Hides had read before. At least he could entertain Swims with them, he mused. His brother loved stories.

            “Here.” Phillida snatched up a blanket and arranged it on the floor near the foot of the bed in a sort of makeshift nest. “May I see her?”

            Hides hesitated, then passed Phillida the baby, whom he laid down gently in the ‘nest,’ cooing at her as he did so. “She’s very young. Stay here. I’ll go see if I can get her some milk.”

            With that, he was gone. Hides felt a tug on his arm.

            “Haj! Haj-Ital!”

            “Yes?”

            “Was that the gay fox?”

            “You mean the Gray Fox.”

            Swims nodded enthusiastically.  The truth was, Hides didn’t know. Nobody knew who the Gray Fox was. Hides was sure he had met him once, though. Not a month after being cast into the streets, when he was foraging for food in the dead of night. A man in a strange gray cowl had been running from the guards. Hides didn’t like the guards much, and when the man hid in the alley in which Hides was searching, he pointed the guards in the wrong direction. The man had thanked him and given him fifteen whole Septims! From then on, Hides had been obsessed with the legendary thief. Who knew? Maybe this really was the infamous Gray Fox.

            “Yeah,” Hides said, “I think it was.”

            “Tell me another story about him!” Swims cried, hopping into one of the beds and bouncing up and down.

            “Alright, alright. Settle down.” Hides took a deep breath. “It was a cold winter’s night, much like this one, and the streets of Anvil were empty save for one lone figure…” Hides told the story long into the night, even after Phillida had come with food and gone again. By the time he finished, Swims was sprawled on one of the beds sleeping, his belly full for the first time in days. Hides climbed into the second bed, staring out the window into the streets below—so beautiful from the warmth of his room—before rolling over and drawing the covers up to his chin. His worries, for the time being, were long behind him.

            The three stayed at the inn for nearly two weeks, never leaving their room. Phillida would only visit to bring food in the mornings and evenings, helping them to feed the young Khajiit and otherwise leaving them in peace. Hides had initially wanted to rid himself of the Khajiit, fearing the challenge of keeping yet another young person alive, but had grown attached. He had even given her a name—the first Khajiit-sounding name he could think of: Adanji.

            When the snow melted and it was at least warmer than freezing, the children were cast into the streets yet again. Hides had begged Phillida to take them in, but the man had a wife and a family of his own to get back to; his stay in the Imperial City was a temporary one, necessary for his work, and he would soon be returning to Kvatch. Hides never heard back from the guards who were supposedly looking into the murder of Adanji’s parents. He never even learned who the mysterious Khajiiti were, or why they had been in the streets that night. All he knew was that Adanji was now as much his family as Swims was, and he would protect both of them to the end of his days.