Chapter Thirty Seven

Falkreath forest hummed with the soft music of night, fireflies drifting lazily between the underbrush. Inigo watched them with a tired grin. He looked ahead to Gaeolin, wishing his friend were still able to tire. “We aren’t really going to walk straight through the night, are we?”

The bosmer turned with a laugh. “It’s not that far now. There are warm beds and hot food waiting if you can hold out.” He resumed his pace, feeling an elation he hadn’t had in weeks. Finally, after everything they had gone through he was going home. He pressed on through the woods, taking a less traveled route to cut time. He could see the abandoned altar that necromancers had once used. Beyond this was the slope of the wood path that led to Lakeview. Inigo huffed as he climbed over a fallen log.

“You sure do miss her, don’t you?”

Gaeolin’s expression grew warm. He could almost see Ma’isha’s face already. “Yeah… It’s been too long.” He looked up at the house. “I’ve been ready to come home for a while.”

Trailing behind, Auroth took a more cautious gait. It had been many years since he had come through Falkreath woods. He stopped by the necromancer’s altar, trailing a hand across the barely visible rusty visage where a body had once laid. “‘Her’? I didn’t think you were the type to get married.”

“No, nothing like that. Ma’isha is my daughter. I adopted her some time ago, and…well, I haven’t exactly been around. She has come to mean quite a bit to me, though,” Gaeolin said to no-one in particular, despite the company. He smiled at the prospect of reuniting with the child, and quickened his pace.

Inigo’s mind was slowed with thoughts of food and drink and rest, so tired was the Khajiit that he could scarcely think of anything else. The trip back to Falkreath had been long and tiresome. “We shall have meat, and cakes, and sweet rolls, and two days of sleep…”

As Inigo prattled on about food and rest, Auroth frowned. He scanned Lakeview, a large, almost mansion-sized home. Little Ma’isha would want for nothing here, and she had company here, as well. Faendal, a fellow Bosmer, as his companions had told him on the way back. The Altmer wondered if things could remain the same after what would undoubtedly happen, and what both his companions seemed to forget. 

The evening had passed by the time they arrived, lights still on inside. Gaeolin’s face was bright and happy as he found the key he hadn’t needed to use in weeks and slid it into the lock. Inside, he heard footsteps, no doubt the stewart coming to greet his master, followed by quicker, lighter steps. Auroth steeled himself, suddenly aware that Inigo’s fur had begun to stand on end. “Wait, Ga-” The Khajiit was silenced as Auroth gripped his wrist.

“He must see for himself,” Auroth whispered tersely. 

There was no time to debate as Gaeolin pulled the door open to reveal Faendal waiting to receive, lantern in hand. The light from inside poured out into the night air, perfectly reflecting what Gaeolin seemed to have forgotten. The steward’s face froze as Ma’isha ran up behind him, face alight with excitement. “Papa, you’re home! You…” she trailed off, trying to process what she was seeing. 

The girl took a step back, her eyes wide, her breath quickening. “We… we will give you a moment, Gaeolin, sir…” Faendal managed quietly before closing the door. Inside, the trio could hear the Bosmer speaking in hushed tones to the horrified girl. 

Gaeolin could not speak as his eyes lowered to the foundation of the house. Auroth closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to imagine the pain the Wood Elf was feeling right now. “Damn it, Auroth!” Inigo hissed, finally having the peace of mind to tear his arm away. “We could have avoided that!”

“He needed to see what – “

“No! That was not what he needed!”

“Maybe it was,” Gaeolin spoke quietly, with measured tones. “I have forgotten what I have become. It was…stupid of me to think that I could just come home and pretend like nothing has happened. This strength has become a terrible weakness.” He turned to stare at Auroth. Whether the Bosmer was aware of what Auroth had allowed to happen or not, he didn’t seem to care. “I remember when we met, you mentioned someone that could help with this.”

Auroth nodded quietly, his hard eyes hiding the guilt of his actions. “Yes, a man in Morthal.”

“Damn it all. I should’ve gone straight there and handled it. I don’t know if she’ll see me after this.” 

Inigo held his tongue, but made sure that Auroth could see the venom in his eyes before turning to Gaeolin. “It has been a long trip, my friend. Perhaps it’s best if we keep going, we should head to Falkreath. I shall make this trip with you, but I need rest.”

“Yes…” Gaeolin nodded, feeling quite tired and heavy despite his condition. This… damned condition. He finally stood straight again, and nodded to his two companions, and made to leave when the door creaked open. All three turned to see Ma’isha, partially hidden by the door jam.

“Papa…I know it’s just…I know it’s you. It’s ok. I heard you talking, you want to go somewhere and…fix something, your eyes?”

Gaeolin felt a lump in his throat. “Yes, Ma’isha. I have to go fix my eyes so that I won’t scare people.” He turned away, only allowing half of his face to remain in the light. The concave of his cheek was filled with shadow. The tattoo stood out like a void, lightening with the contour to a deep orange. The girl peeked farther out from the door. Though, she did not volunteer to approach them. She looked to Inigo, receiving a small wave, then to Auroth, who nodded in as close to a kind way as he could. Gaeolin passed Inigo on his way outside. His voice was quiet enough that only his friend could hear. “Hug her for me.”

The night air had grown damp in the short time he had been inside. He had to stay away. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He bowed against the wicker fencing that bordered the vegetable patch, wishing the image of her face to fade. He looked up, expecting the steps to be Inigo, or maybe even Auroth.

“What did I tell you the last time you left?” 

Gaeolin tilted his head back, looking up at the stars. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

Faendal stepped closer, looking off toward the apiary. “And now here we are…”

“Look, it’s not the same thing.”

“Caic tarbh!” Faendal spat. “If anything this is worse. Poor lass has been through so much already. Homeless, family murdered, shouted at for needing help.” He turned to Gaeolin with eyes like daggers. “You picked up her life, promised to give her everything she needed. You made her feel loved. You let her get close, then run off for weeks on end. No letter to ask about her, to tell her you’re safe. She watches for you every day, you know.”

Gaeolin sent him a hurt look. “Not a day went by that I didn’t wish I was here instead.”

“And you show up after all this time, like… this.”

Gaeolin stared at him, not certain how to respond. “Níor chiallaigh mé go dtarlódh sé seo.” I never meant for this to happen. He clenched the fence tighter, causing the twigs to creak in protest. “Dia, ba mhaith liom go raibh mé díreach tar éis bás. Níor theastaigh uaim a eagla a fheiceáil.”Gods, I wish I had just died. I never wanted to see her scared. Faendal turned to him, his expressions softer.

“Tá a fhios agam. Níor chóir dom mo champa a chailliúint.”I know. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. He came to stand beside him. “I’m sorry… It’s just been hard for us. Not knowing where you are, what you’re doing, if you’re safe. I suppose it’s just something we should be getting used to in these times.”

Gaeolin couldn’t look him in the eye, the evening bringing him more discomfort than he had expected. “I suppose you won’t be able to trust me now.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Faendal leaned on a post. “You’re still the same man I knew when I took this position. You’re still the man who went out of his way to help me when I lived in Riverwood.”

“With a few diet changes.”

His fellow bosmer chuckled. “Nothing worse than what some tribes still do in the homeland.”

Gaeolin made a face. “No… I haven’t resorted to full on cannibalism.”

Faendal put a hand on his shoulder, making him look his direction. “Gaeolin, tá a fhios agat nach gcaillfidh tú mo mhuinín.” Gaeolin, you know you will never lose my trust.

“I could understand if I had.” He wore a half hearted smirk. “Even I don’t trust myself.” His fangs glinted in a sudden ray of moonlight. “Even after I feed, sometimes I feel the burn in my throat. I…” He looked scared. “Some part of me actually likes it…” 

Faendal paused. “But that’s instinct. You’re drawn to blood because you need it. As far as I was taught, the thirst gets worse the longer you’re a vampire.”

Gaeolin actually laughed this time, sending Faendal a smile. “Bíonn bealach níos fearr ag baint le fear a dhéanamh faoi rudaí.” Way to make a guy feel better about these things.

The pair of them shared a moment of subdued mirth. Faendal shivered, the breeze a little too cold for his taste. “Well, I think I should get to sleep. I need to gather some more wood for the fires tomorrow.” He made it to the steps up onto the terrace before realizing that Gaeolin had not joined him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“Níl, ní an uair seo.” No, not this time. He shook his head as he remembered Ma’isha’s face. “I think I’ll wait until I know she’s asleep.” He sent his friend a pitiful expression. “Do you think she will ever see me the same?”

“Ar ndóigh a dhéanaim.” Of course I do. He put on a reassuring grin. Their gazes remained locked for a moment, the steward finally turning back to the house.

Gaeolin watched him go, his heart still less than comforted. He knew his friends would want to set out as early as they could. He also had to accept an unfortunate fact. His throat tingled as he thought of hunting down a meal. The thought of even one more day in the sun made the craving flare like a wave of nausea. Resigning himself to the urge, he strode away from his house into the night. Blood was not far away, and there was plenty of it.