Chapter Text
The Bannered Mare was awash in the warm glow of the hearth and the lilting sound of a lute filled the air. It was nearly midnight and the inn was deserted save for the few who stuck around to sit by the fire and listen to the music.
A dark figure sat hunched over a table in the corner. A mug of flat mead stood sweating on the wood before him, untouched. A book with yellowed pages lay open beside it, unread. It was all for show, of course. Unlike the others, the hooded dunmer wasn’t here to drink in the peaceful evening or enjoy small talk with the locals. He was here strictly for business.
His body was stone still as his eyes flicked about like a snake’s tongue- tasting the air, calculating movement.
He watched as the barmaid cleaned a glass with a rag, her head nodding gently to the tune that was playing. She scanned across the room, taking a quiet inventory of the guests until her gaze came to rest on the dark figure huddled off to the side. She watched him, then looked at his mug, still as full as when she first brought it to him. Back to him, then back to the glass.
He reached his hand out to grab it and bring it to his lips. His ashen fingers coiled around the handle like a vice. From his peripheral vision he watched her watch him as he took a sip, letting the bitter liquid flow onto his tongue until seemingly satisfied, she returned to busying herself with the dishes.
Once he was sure she wasn’t looking he turned his head and spat the drink onto the floor, covering the small puddle with his boot. He was here on business, after all, and couldn’t afford to lose the upper hand by clouding his mind with alcohol.
With that taken care of, he turned his attention to the door on his left and prepared to keep his gaze locked there for however long it was until he could finally get to the ‘fun part.’
A creeping sensation prickled over his skin as he felt a sudden presence behind him. Joints tensing in preparation, he willed himself to feel the movement rather than turn to look. A soft vibration rippled through the floor, silent as the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. Feet, light and swift, coming closer to where he sat. Closer. In a languid, almost casual movement, the dunmer brought his hand to his hip where the hilt of his dagger rested in its leather scabbard. He inhaled sharply and shot to his feet; the chair beneath him screeched in protest and the liquid in the mug sloshed and threatened to spill over.
The entire tavern froze and turned to look for a painfully tense moment before resuming as if nothing had happened.
A clawed hand pinched his shoulder and forced him back down into his seat. “Can we save the dramatics for another time?” A familiar voice hissed into his ear.
Whipping his head around, he saw the jeering face of a leather-clad Argonian. He rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh. “Was sneaking up on me totally necessary, Veezara?”
Veezara chuckled low in his throat and sunk into the adjacent chair. “It’s a habit by now I guess,” he shrugged.
“Regardless,” the man waved dismissively. “What in Sithis’ name are you doing here? You know I’m a little busy right now.”
“Oh, believe me my dear brother Jimmy, there are a thousand and three things I’d much rather be doing. Astrid sent me to check on you,” the Argonian said bitterly.
“Check on me…?” Jimmy murmured more to himself than anyone else.
“You are the baby after all. And you know how she loves to dote on the babies.” An acrid taste filled the dark elf’s mouth at his comrade’s judgmental tone. He felt as though he should defend himself but at the same time, Veezara wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Sithis below,” the Argonian’s emerald scales flashed in the candle light as he shook his head. “Do you have any idea what the rest of us would do to catch a break like you, Page?”
His blood was starting to boil under his skin. He may have been the newest recruit but it wasn’t like he stumbled in there yesterday. He worked himself to the bone to earn his place and, as far as he was concerned, he had a long way to go before his place was anywhere near meaningful. His thoughts must have been painted across his face because Veezara’s reptilian eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together to form a thin line.
“You have no idea do you? What, did she not tell you or are you just even more of an ignoramus than I thought?”
“Tell me what?” Jimmy snapped.
“Your contract,” Veezara slurred slowly as if he were talking to a child, “It’s very special. In fact, everyone in the sanctuary, including myself of course, has been begging Astrid to assign it to one of us. Why, of all people, she chose you, I haven’t the slightest idea.” He took Jimmy’s mug and brought it to his lips to take a long swig. “The only reason I’m not fighting her decision even though I really really want to is because we all know her word is law and she has yet to lead us astray.”
He stood up from his seat and braced his hands on either side of the table, leaning in close enough that Jimmy could see the shimmering of the scales around his mouth as he spoke. “I’m sure there’s a reason she didn’t tell you anything beyond what you already know so I’m not going to tamper with whatever she has in mind. But know this, brother: we all know about your contract and we’re watching you. Closely. So, you find this Robert Plant and you make sure he is good and dead. And when you’re sure of it, make extra sure of it. There is a lot counting on your measly little shoulders and so you’d better not even think about messing this up.”
And with that, the Argonian was gone and Jimmy Page was alone at his table staring at nothing, feeling as though he’d just been punched in the chest.