Cities, in Vivec's very humble opinion, were one of Tamriel's chief pleasures. Oh, certainly, there was beauty in the harshness of the coast, and in the tranquility of the grazelands. Even the ashlands were awe-inspiring in their near inhospitability. But cities were where people were, in the full spectrum of lived experience. Old, young, rich, poor, Nord, Chimer–it was a cacophony of joy and tragedy and victory and despair and just life .

With all that in consideration, cities were terrible places to come in and plan a revolution. Even with the anonymity a big city like Hofstaag afforded, a group of strangers drew attention, especially groups of strangers who could be caught sneaking around, having clandestine discussions . And that was even without accounting for the fact that Hofstaag was a Nord city.

So, after much deliberation, the best idea would be to split up during their time in the city. Oh, they'd meet, certainly, but staying anywhere and moving as a group was out of the question. Alandro had contacts in the city, at least, so he was set up. A sympathetic Hlaalu family had offered safe lodgings for Voryn and Nerevar–as well as a well-planned escape if need be. As for Vivec and Sil, there was nothing suspicious about two mer of their age traveling about and staying at the local inn.

"We're just here long enough to meet with others who want to join," Nerevar assured the two of them the night before they went into town; they were entering in a staggered manner, to avoid any further suspicion. "At most, we'll be here a week. Keep your heads low, and only talk to House mer." He looked between them, light eyes very serious. "And don't get separated."

"Alas, there go my plans of launching a career as a skald ," Vivec said with mock disappointment. Nerevar's face pinched, and he waved his hand. "We'll be fine, Neht. We'll go about the town like any two young men hungry for dictator-approved adventure."

Nerevar's attention turned to Sil. "And you, Seht? I understand this could be frightening."

"I'm not frightened." Like always, his words were frank and his face unreadable. It certainly wasn't an assertion of a boy trying to be brave; then again, sneaking into a city was probably a great deal less frightening than having your home destroyed by a Prince. But Nerevar didn't push, didn't even offer a 'It's okay to be scared'. He simply nodded, clapping his hands on Sil's thin shoulders.

"The innkeeper's on our side. I'll send communication of what I need you to do. Azura guide you both and keep you safe."

There was the briefest shadow that crossed Sil's face, but it was gone in a moment. Nerves, probably. Regardless, he was placid as anything as they made their final preparations to enter enemy territory.

It had been a very, very good thing that Sil had chosen to stay with them, because this was certainly not the kind of city to drop a young orphan mer in. Yes, there were Chimer in the city, but either at the very, very top echelon–House mer that had no doubt done something terribly questionable and likely against all Velothi customs to give them that sort of protection–or hiding away in the shadows of alleys, with glinting knives and desperate faces. But the majority of the people around them were Nords, and their looks alone were enough to say that the two of them weren't welcome there. ( N'wah , would be the term Vehk would use to describe how the Nords saw them. But that wasn't in their vocabulary, was it? He'd have to see if there was a Nordic equivalent.)

Vehk, having been in this situation plenty of times over the past several years, kept his guard up, arm pressed firmly against Sil's as they walked toward the inn. Eventually, he chanced a glance over at the young mer beside him, ready to assure him that things were all right and he'd keep him safe.

To his great surprise, Sil wasn't remotely uncomfortable. His pale eyes were darting this way and that, never settling anywhere for very long, and his brows were drawn together thoughtfully. He was studying, Vivec realized, looking over the people and buildings like he did Dwemeri cogs and gears. His eyes locked on one Nord sitting on a porch, with a badly-fitted wooden leg, just a bit too long, and right as she started to come toward them, Vivec quickly slung his arm over Sil's shoulders.

"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."

It took several seconds and very reluctant rolling over, but a pale eye, with a very dark shadow beneath it, peeked out at him. "We're supposed to stay together, Vehk."

"I promise you, Sil, I will be completely safe," he assured, patting his shoulder again. "This isn't my first time slipping unnoticed in a big city. Rest up; I'll be back soon and we can both go out and do some actual recon."

The whole blanket gave a very long sigh, and the eye disappeared back inside–only for it to reappear, a pale brow arched over it now.

"If we're doing real recon tonight, then what was last night?"

Vivec grinned. "A chance to see you loosened up. And clearly, it worked just a bit too well." He went to the door, picking up his blade and sliding it into his belt before throwing his traveling cloak over his shoulders. "Be back soon."

Pains him though it does to admit it, sneaking through Hofstaag's seedy underbelly was much easier without a boy tagging along. It wasn't Sil's fault, of course–save for the staring, he was about as good a sneak as a novice could be. But knowing he was tucked up safe in the room meant that Vehk could go places he would never , under any circumstance, take a boy he'd committed into his care.

He's too old and too well-cared-for now to play the guttersnipe, and too good with his blade now to play the daggerlad. But he still knew the paths that led to the parts of the city people pretended didn't exist, where cloying skooma smoke sweetened the air and thin hands adorned with cheap jewels beckoned him over, promising an evening of delights if he had the gold for it. It was mostly Chimer here, with a few Argonians and even a Khajiit or two for flavor. And, of course, a handful of Nords who were very keen to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Certainly not the sort of place he'd find Neht or Voryn when they were fresh into town; but, of course, that had just been a story.

What Vivec really wanted was secrets .

He slipped into the nicer skooma den in the area, with a peek of plush furnishings and ornate pipes through the well-placed sliver between curtains. There were rooms here, he could tell as he stepped in, and that meant that there were regular visitors that didn't want to be seen.

He leaned against the service desk, adjusting his hood while patiently waiting. Finally, a Khajiiti woman came over, with pretty dark whorls swirled through her amber fur. Her blue eyes were clear, slit pupils only widening curiously once she looked him over; she didn't sample her wares, then, even better.

"Sedarra welcomes you to the Two Moons Cafe," she says smoothly. "This one has brought all the delicacies of Elsweyr to share with our eastern neighbors. Though..." She glanced down at the bag of gold he'd pulled from his pocket. "...she is certain you must have heard about our delectable sweets, trevan."

"I have , though I'll admit I'm more hungry for something besides sweets."

To his surprise, Sedarra gave a long-suffering sigh, and her tone grew crisp. "This one is not a whore ," she said bluntly. "Your gold can go to one of the zajiziit waiting outside; it will come back to Sedarra anyway, she knows, but at least her dignity will remain intact."

Vivec blinked, and he covered his mouth to stop his laugh. "A thousand apologies, zeti . Nothing like that." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I'd like to know about some of your patrons ."

Sedarra blinked, pupils widening a touch more as she glanced down at the bag in his hand. "Sedarra is very sorry, trevan, but her guests come expecting that she will have the utmost discretion." As he started to tuck the purse away, though, she added, "But...there is gossip this one has heard that might interest you."

Vivec perked up, and he set the purse on the table as he leaned in. "It would very much interest me."

In a quick, neat movement, Sedarra scooped the purse up into her hand, expertly weighing it. She took a very quick peek inside, then tucked it into a hidden pocket in her dress.

"Well, the first thing this one has heard is that the general in charge of the city is..." She trailed off, tail flicking back and forth as there was a sudden commotion outside. Cries of " Nords!" filled the alleyway. Certainly wasn't any law men; it must be a group looking to cause trouble, then.

Without so much as a word to Sedarra, Vivec ducked back outside. Yes, he was supposed to keep his head down, but he wasn't about to run when the people he was trying to lift up were at risk. He stayed tense, ready to fight if need be, and followed the sound of jeering. He whirled around the corner, finding a group of Nords tossing around a bag as they laughed. They were tall, damn them , so he couldn't get a good view of the mer they were harassing.

"Naughty boy," one of them jeered. "Your parents let you wander around here?"

"You expect a knife-ear to take care of a kid?" another asked. "He's probably running some skooma himself. Helgi, check that bag!"

One woman deftly grabbed the bag as it was thrown to her, and she dug inside before barking out a laugh. "Oh, the little milkdrinker still has toys . Look."

A chill ran down Vivec's spine as he saw the mechanical spider she held up.

Shit .

A push forward gave him the chance to see the full scene. Sil, looking even slighter compared to the burly Nords surrounding him, was steadfastly silent–whether out of defiance or defense, Vivec couldn't tell. He grimaced as the Nord holding him slammed him back into the wall, but still said nothing. His eyes were trained on the spider, which passed from Helgi's hand into the Nord that had called for her to check his bag. The Nord tutted.

"Well, boy, if you're old enough to be running around here, you're far too old for toys." Carelessly, he dropped the spider to the ground, only to crush it under his boot. Sil's chest leapt, but nothing came from his mouth. "Now that you're grown, let's show you what happens when knife-ears like you come to the wrong side of town."

That was quite enough.

"Hla'daesohn! " Vivec called, forcing his way through the jeering Nords. "Hla'daesohn! " He feigned a sigh of relief as he reached the center of the circle; Sil's eyes darted to him, but even now, his face was unreadable. Vivec reached the first Nord. "Oh thank you, muthsera," he said breathlessly. "I've been looking for my little brother everywhere, and it seems you've found him. You have my gratitude."

The Nords glanced among each other; it wouldn't be surprising if they'd never had a mer interrupt them before. Finally, the Nord holding Sil gave a grim smile.

"This is your brother, elf?"

"Yes, I've asked for a search from the officials in town. They should be here any moment, but I'm glad you found him first."

"So am I." In a jab too quick to be stopped, the Nord's fist struck Sil's face, and red blood dripped down golden skin. " Clearly you haven't taught him any manners."

There was no more thinking to be done; cleverness, as much as he appreciated it, ultimately had nothing on a very, very hard punch to a stomach. He wasn't sure how much damage it did, but it did get the Nord to let Sil go, and Vivec was able to get in a very good kick before the others realized what was happening.

The fight was set up four to one, which would no doubt be very inspiring on paper, but for now it was very, very far from ideal. But Vivec had two things in his favor: first, he was a warrior, trained by Nerevar, who was undisputedly one of the best warriors in Resdayn, and these Nords were common ruffians who'd probably never seen a battlefield. Second, they were very, very slow.

He flitted around their jabs and lunges, angling the fight to keep Sil out of any crossfire. He even laughed as he got another Nord down; that was his mistake, because mid-laugh, he nearly missed the glint of silver in the corner of his eye. That dodge wasn't quite fast enough, and he was rewarded with a slice to his arm–not serious, but not pleasant . But the pain was grounding, at least, and so when the knife came back again, Vivec's blade was quicker. Just a quick little jab, right into the Nord's stomach, coupled with a kick to send him down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two Nords get to their feet, and the three still standing closed in on him. Vivec was good, but even with his sword brandished, their numbers were seeming to finally get the better of him. He grit his teeth, poised to strike once one of them moved. All three started to lunge at him, but were stopped in their tracks. Electricity crackled in the air as they convulsed, and Vivec whirled around to see Sil's hands out, purple lightning dancing around his fingertips and reflecting off his pale eyes.

"Seht, go ," he ordered as the Nords fell. " Now ."

The lightning stopped, and Sil was frozen in place for a moment. His eyes darted to the ground, and just as Vivec was about to hoist him up bodily, he dove down, gathering up the ruined dwemer spider in his hands just as Vivec grabbed him by the collar and heaved him up and forward.

" Keep going until I say stop ," Vehk ordered, moving his grip to Sil's arm as he darted through the alleyway, down between buildings, and deeper into the labyrinth of the slums. He finally skidded to a halt by a metal grate, and–thank Azura for adrenaline–he lifted it up to reveal a hole in the ground.

" In ," is all he said, but Sil jumped down without hesitation. Vivec followed after, pulling the grate back in place before he hopped down as well.

They'd found their way into a cistern–wet and stinking and far from an ideal hiding place. But, at the very least, it was safe; this, Vivec knew, was part of the escape route for Nerevar and Voryn, which meant they had a destination. But best to wait until the ruckus outside calmed down.

He checked his wound–superficial, he could probably heal it himself–then looked over at Sil. The boy wiped at his nose, smearing the blood across his face and hand, and gave a quick sniff, but otherwise seemed no worse for the wear. Relief flooded Vivec, but it was quickly followed by something much hotter and uglier.

"I told you to stay in the room," he snapped. "You blatantly disobeyed me, Sil."

Sil looked up at him, briefly surprised before anger crossed his own face. "Nerevar said to stay together, and I'd rather disobey you than him."

"You'd rather...you could have been killed , Sil."

"So could you. If I hadn't been there, you wouldn't have had back up."

"And if you'd listened to me, there wouldn't have been a fight to begin with, and we wouldn't be in a fetching sewer!"

"And if you hadn't lied , Vivec, I wouldn't have had to find you!"

They both gave a mutual huff before Sil turned and marched off, thin shoulders set rigidly. Vivec turned and walked in the other direction, a million more arguments bubbling up in his head but none good enough to leave his mouth.

Well. Now he knew what a quarrel with Seht looked like, at least. He rubbed his face, trying to settle the angry words buzzing in his head. After a long sigh, he glanced back over his shoulder. Sil was leaning against one of the support columns, looking down at the ruined scraps of metal in his hands. His face was composed, as always, but the small tremor in his arms gave him away.

Vivec sighed, then made his way over; Sil pretended not to see him. He started to think of some grand way to go about this, but honestly, simplicity was probably the best route.

"I'm sorry," he said. When Sil looked up at him, he added, "For lying, and for leaving you alone. I shouldn't have done either; this is my fault."

Sil was very silent, and he finally looked back down at the ruined spider. "I apologize for not listening to you." It's stiff and clearly templated from years of House etiquette, but still quite genuine. "And thank you for getting me out, Vehk."

"Well, of course. I couldn't let my dear little brother get roughed up by a group of n'wah like that," Vivec said with a wide smile, to which Sil gave a faux-exasperated shake of his head. He leaned against the corner of the pillar, looking down at the scraps in Sil's hand. "I'm very sorry about your spider."

"I can rebuild it." There was an odd steeliness in Sil's voice, a tone of absolute certainty. "I'll even make it better. When we're...not in a sewer."

Vivec's eyes flicked up to look at Sil's face; his features were sharp, mouth set in a determined frown. In that moment, Vivec was quite sure Sil could do anything he wanted to.

"Of course you can," he agreed without even thinking. "I certainly believe in you. And I'm sure Neht will..." He trailed off, then let his head fall back with a groan.

"What?" Sil asked, looking up.

"Nerevar is going to be furious with the two of us."

---

Language notes:

Hofstaag - Fort Pride
keveh - a coffee drink
trevan - friend
zajiziit - a combination of zag and thjiziit, lit. "sex-fools"
zeti - honorable
hla'daesohn - little brother