In Over His Head

ACT II

* * * * *

Not so long ago, not so far away...

"Hey..." a quiet voice whispered from behind her, slightly to the side. "Eydva, can I borrow a quill?" the voice continued, desperation tinging its words. Eydva looked back, seeing her classmate, Ronaria, with her hand stuck out expectantly. She nodded, reaching for her bag that was resting on the floor beside her chair. "Hold on..." She grabbed her bag and pulled it into her lap, rummaging around. Balled up papers, singed papers, vials of varying colors of liquid, they all fell out of the bag and into her lap as Eydva pushed them out of the way, looking for her spare quill.

"Ah... here you go," she said with a small triumphant smile as she produced a quill from the depths of her bag. It was a little bent, but it still worked!

Ronaria took it gratefully. "I'll buy you lunch!" she promised, drawing her attention away from Eydva, directing it towards their teacher, who was at the head of the small classroom, lecturing on something or another. Ronaria began to scribble hectically onto her sheet of parchment, as though everything the teacher had said was going to disappear from her mind if she didn't copy it down as soon as she could.

To be truthful, Eydva hadn't been paying much attention this morning. It didn't matter, anyway... her grandmother was coming to pull her from the school at the end of the day. She bowed her head in shame, biting her lip. She was trying to hold back the tears that were stinging her eyes, threatening to fall. There was no reason to cry, really. This was... what was it now? The twelfth one? The thirteenth? Eydva had lost count many schools ago. No matter how much she paid attention, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many late, sleepless nights she'd spent up practicing, it made no difference. Her magicka was wild, untameable. Even the best teachers at the best schools couldn't help her. Time after time, they wrote her grandmother and told her that it was a lost cause, her granddaughter was unteachable.

Destruction, conjuration, restoration... she'd tried them all and more, and none of them had ended well. There had been many accidents, a lot of collateral damage. It was lucky that her family was well-established and quite wealthy. No other student would have been able to get away with the destruction she'd wrought...

And time and time again, her grandmother sent her away, to this school or that. She came from a long line of powerful, magickally talented family members, her grandmother was desperate to continue that lineage, at any cost. She didn't care about Eydva as a person, only as a link in a long chain that she was intent on sustaining, growing. And though it was failure at every turn, Eydva was desperate to please her grandmother, to finally receive glowing praise instead of cold scorn and disappointment.

But there was one small glimmer in all the darkness that gave her some spark of joy in all the sadness. Whenever she was sent away from a school, she was able to come back home, while her grandmother scoured the entirety of Skyrim to find another school that was willing to accept her. Back to her childhood home, her room, and to... most of all, Staanovaar, her only real friend. No matter how many times she failed, no matter how many tears she'd shed over her failures, he was always there for her. He was her confidant, her biggest pillar of support. He was there when her own grandmother turned her back.

Eydva, drawn from her memories by a sudden presence at her shoulder, snapped her head up. She reluctantly, sheepishly looked up at her teacher. She swiped at her eyes quickly, hoping he didn't notice the tears that had started to form. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he look none too pleased. "Miss Tuvelsdottir..." he said, bending low to speak quietly into her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "I will not have you making a fool of me in front of my students..." he warned. She squeezed her eyes closed. "If this weren't your final day of lessons, I would have to show you some discipline after class," he finished, his lips barely brushing against her earlobe as he spoke. Eydva swallowed thickly, thanking the gods that she was leaving today. She had no interest in knowing what his discipline entailed, and she hoped dearly nobody else had been on the receiving end of it, either...

Eydva spent the rest of the class scribbling notes onto her parchment. It wasn't related to what she was supposed to be learning, but she figured as long as she looked like she was paying attention, she could get through the rest of the lesson, and the day, unscathed. What she was writing, though, was a new recipe for a potion she had been thinking about. Alchemy was her true passion, and unlike Magicka, she seemed quite able to keep her potion making under control. But, of course, it wasn't what she was supposed to be interested in, and she got no encouragement from her grandmother to pursue it. In fact, whenever she brought it up, her grandmother either pretended not to be listening or immediately changed the subject.

When lunch period finally rolled around, she slipped, unnoticed, out of the classroom. She had no interest in eating, and she certainly didn't want to spend time with Ronaria right before she was about to leave and never speak to her again. This was a lesson she had learned the hard way, and it had taken far too many times for her to learn it. It was better to keep her distance, be friendly on the surface, but to avoid deeper bonds. She liked Ronaria, so it was a shame, but... that's the way it had to be...

She went outside and found her favorite old tree, sitting in the cold grass at its base. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the trunk, rubbing her face. She wondered if she could just skip the rest of the day's lessons and hide out here all day. It certainly didn't matter, but she knew she'd receive a tongue lashing from her grandmother for not at least keeping up appearances. She sighed softly, rubbing at her eyes.

"Hey!" A familiar voice called. "I knew I'd find you here..."

Sigh. Ronaria. "Yeah, I'm here," Eydva acknowledged, looking up at her friend. "I just needed to get out of there," she said.

Ronaria nodded, taking a spot next to her on the ground. "He is seriously creepy... eugh," she agreed, making a face. "I already talked to headmaster about it..." she added. She dug around in her bag, withdrawing a small wrapped bundle. "Here," she said, offering it to Eydva.

"What's this?" she asked, taking the little package.

"I promised you lunch, remember?" Ronaria said, grinning.

Eydva frowned, her heart clenching just a bit. It was unfair. Cruel. "...yeah, thanks," she said, setting the bundle in her lap. There was a hunk of roast turkey and a few slices of stale bread. "Smells really good," she added, her stomach growling as the smell of the meat invaded her nostrils. She tore off a small hunk and put it on a slice of bread, eating it gratefully. Since her plan to avoid talking with anyone for the rest of the day was ruined, she might as well indulge. "Thanks Ronaria," she added, offering her the bundle back so they could share.

Ronaria smiled and took it from her, pulling a chunk off for herself. They sat, in relative silence, until the bell signalled the beginning of the second half of the day's lessons. "You go on ahead, I have something I need to take care of right quick," Eydva told Ronaria. Her friend nodded, getting up from the ground. She brushed the back of her pants off and gave Eydva a smile and a little wave before she trotted off, heading back towards the main hall.

She watched her go, frowning to herself. She sighed, pulling the hood of her coat around her head more snugly. Maybe a nap...

Eydva woke with a start. There was the familiar voice, filtering its way into her brain, which was fuzzy and still half asleep. "...grandma?" she asked, pushing the hood up off her head.

"Is it that you can't be disciplined enough to succeed or is that you never try hard enough?" her grandmother demanded. "Once again I see you are wasting my time and my money." she said, reaching to yank Eydva up from the ground. She was shivering now, despite the coat, as the coldness from the ground had soaked right into her bones. "Why do you always do this? There is far too much of your mother in you I'm afraid." she scolded again, and turned and strode away toward the school's offices without another word

"Gran-" Eydva started, looking back at her pleadingly.

"Not a single word," her grandmother said, cutting her off harshly. "I should be used to this by now" she muttered to herself, still striding away without looking back. Eydva knew there would be oblivion to pay if she wasn't right behind her.

There were no tearful goodbyes, there were no 'we're going to miss you's from staff. Ronaria had been the only friend she'd made here, and even she was nowhere to be found. For that, at least, Eydva was thankful. After a lengthy visit at the admission office, Eydva's grandmother guided her out the front door, towards the carriage that was waiting for them. "Not a single word," she repeated her warning.

Eydva tried to shrink herself into her coat, hiding herself away as far as she could. Disappointment after disappointment... why couldn't she just be the student her grandmother wanted? Why was she cursed with the inability to control a single bit of Magicka in the proper way? If only she could grasp how to control it, how to keep her emotions in check, she knew... if she could just get power over one tiny speck, she could take it, and make it grow. She could learn it. But that speck never came, and she knew it never would. There was a fire inside her that couldn't be tamed, even after a million lessons.

But at least there was the only real friend she had ever had and truth be told the boy she loved.. And in a few short hours, she would get to see him once more. All she had to do was survive this carriage ride, and then the cold silence and veiled insults and guilt laid upon her by her grandmother when they got home. Then, and only then, could she slip away!

It was a long ride, made all the more painful by the awkward silence that hung between the two of them. She could feel her grandmother's steely disappointment, chilling the entire carriage dar more than any northern wind. She was not looking forward to the conversation they would have when they got home, so she spent the time steeling herself, building up her reserve. She would take the belittlement, take the passive aggressive behavior, take the disappointment, and she would absorb it. She would bury it deep down inside herself and pretend that it didn't exist. That was the only way she could continue to live in her grandmother's house, to remain in her presence.

* * * * *

Edovan cocked one sleepy eye open. Someone was banging on the outside of his door, and from the hollowness of the sound, he could tell they were banging on the little portal hatch thing.

"Just a minute..." he called, as he lay there in his small, but very comfortable, bed, trying to get his bearings. Wait.. he was safely tucked away in his little bed? The last thing he could remember clearly was being in Mavka's room... with... Mavka! He sat bolt upright in the bed. Suddenly all the heavy, musky, sweaty purple skinned memories of the night before came crashing into his sleep fogged mind, with all the subtlety of one of Molag Baal's daedric anchors. He... and Mavka... they had done.. things. And then she had said things... and...

"OhgodswhatwasIthinking...!" He knew it wasn't a dream, either, because he could smell her unique scent still on his skin, even in his hair, and soaked into all his places.

The banging noise happened again, this time louder and more insistent. A female voice was calling, one he didn't recognize. "Little mouse, are you awake? Please sir you have to get up. Margara said if we let you miss your appointment this morning she would make us do the wash for a month! You have to wake up!" the voice pleaded helplessly. It seemed almost frantic enough that if his door had been magically sealed, its owner might have come in and got him herself.

"I'm up... I'm up!" he called back, groaning a bit as he pulled himself up from the warm and comforting bed. "Just give me one moment..." he called quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

He half stumbled, half slid down the little ladder that led up to his bunk, and lurched into the door, reaching down to open the little latch and lift the portal up. He thrust his head out of the hole, straight into the crotch of the same beautiful blonde that he had screamed "no!" at, that day down in the laundry. Luckily she was wearing a lacy blue nightie that came down to her mid thigh, so he only pressed against the fabric, sheer though it was, and little it concealed.

She gave a little squeal, half surprise, half delight. She looked down at him, but made no move to back up or push him away. Instead, she arched her back and pressed her hips in towards him, gently burying his face in her mound.

"Good morning little mouse, " she giggled. "Looking for breakfast? Much as I'd love to serve that to you, it won't give you much nourishment I'm afraid, and I'd probably make you late for your new job, but..." she trailed off thoughtfully. She was quickly losing her resolve at the impossibly smooth feel of his sweet baby face against her naked nethers. "Well, I guess a little taste wouldn't hurt..." And with that, she tugged her nightie up out from between them so his face rested solidly against her smooth, warm, bare skin and silky darker blonde curls. She gave a small moan and quickly put her fingers in his hair and mashed his face into her mound before he could react. Edovan sputtered and pulled back involuntarily, his head bouncing off the top edge of the portal. It gave a resounding thud.

"Ouch," he murmured, wincing. He rubbed his head, willing the pain to settle, and hoping that a bump wouldn't appear, leaving his head tender.

The blonde bent down to peer through the portal at him.

"I see part of you is awake at least..." she leered at him, licking her lips carefully.

Edovan looked down with horror. He had completely forgotten he was naked!

In a flash his hand whipped out and unlatched the portal from its lifted position and let it fall shut with a loud bang.

Outside the door, the pretty blonde pouted. "Awwwww, you're no fun..." she lamented. It was probably for the best though, she conceded. She really, really didn't want to be in the laundry for a month, no matter how good his little face had felt!

Inside, Edovan was dressing as quickly as he could, while his mind raced over and over again through the whirlwind of events from the night before. Here, now, in his room, safely away from Mavka's heady pull on his mind, it didn't even seem possible. As if he was watching another Edovan entirely. That wasn't like him at all, and he was in love with Yagaritte! Wasn't he? He cared about Mavka, sure, and she was very smart, and very beautiful... and her voice was dark and husky, but... she didn't have that laugh; that joyful contagious mischievous laugh that Yagaritte had, that never made you feel like she was laughing at you, but always with you!

But then again... he and Mavka certainly had chemistry, that was clear. The combustible kind that explodes and burns the lab down and half the the town with it! And he had done things with Mavka, not once, but twice! That was far more than he and Yagaritte, who thus far had only basically teased him and snuggled him and told him... he flushed suddenly as he remembered her whispered words in his ear at the the height of their passion during their threesome. But had she meant it? Or was that just something perfectly calculated in order to make sure she won the bet?

He was suddenly sad as he remembered Mavka's words to the twins last night in the hall outside his door. Those words were genuine for sure. He was pretty sure she didn't know he was listening, and he had heard her voice crack as she hurried away, embarrassed and defeated. His heart twinged because he knew deep down he genuinely had feelings for her, too, and cared about her greatly. He'd never had problems like this before. So many confusing feelings and thoughts. It almost made him dizzy!

By now he'd forgotten all about the face planting in the girl outside. He tugged on his soft boots slung his satchel over his shoulder and reached out and grabbed his staff from it's resting place between the desk and the wall.

He froze. His staff had been with him since birth, his parents had told him. They had found it with him. His parents had kept it near him as a baby, and he'd been carrying it himself since he was big enough to do so, long before he even had any formal majickal training. He knew every inch of it; from the large crimson pulsing jewel at the top, to the dark swirls and striations of the Nightwood limb it had come from. And the second he had hefted it just now, he knew something was off.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but it felt odd somehow. Like somebody had done something to it. He dropped it against the stone floor a few times listening to the tone of the thud it made each time. It sounded different! He examined the jewel closely and the many metallic filigrees that bound the jewel to the staff and held it in place. They all looked normal. He could even see the tiny daedric runes etched into the metal and faintly glowing. All of them seemed to be intact. If even one of those runes had been damaged or altered it would compromise their ability to safely contain the considerable power of the artifact, and he had no idea what catastrophe that could lead to except that all of his teachers and years of training assured him it would be very bad indeed. He was about to flip it over and examine the butt end, when the loud rapping on the door was heard again, more insistent than the first.

"Little mouse! Are you coming out or not! It's getting late and you are going to get me into trouble!" the girl cried from the other side of the door, her knuckles rapping pertly on its thick wood.

Edovan quickly set the latches on his little portal so it couldn't be opened from outside, and put his hand on the cold metal of the latch. As soon he heard the click, he pushed the door open just wide enough to slip into the hall and close it behind him.

He turned to face the blonde, only then remembering how he had first "greeted" her earlier.

"My sincerest apologies, ma'am. I didn't mean to umm... erm..." he stammered, blushing. He looked away from her.

"There's no time!" she said, cutting him off. "Breakfast is waiting!" She declared, and with that, she grabbed his hand and practically dragged him down the stairs into the tavern proper.

The inn was quiet now for the most part. All the patrons were gone or sleeping off the revelries from the night before. The only sounds were the still crackling logs in the huge fireplace and the clinks and sizzles of a bustling kitchen. The smell of pies and sweet meats and sausages was heavenly. His stomach growled as she steered him toward the only occupied table in the the huge cavernous hall.

At least a dozen girls in various nighties, teddies, and other skimpy bedroom attire were gathered around it. They all turned at once and beamed at him as he approached, parting like a sea of soft skin and lingerie to reveal an empty chair with a veritable feast laid out in front of it. He tried to stop, but the blonde who was leading him slipped behind him and pushed him forward through the crowd and down into the large chair, and then easily scooted him forward, up to the table edge. The sea of girls closed in around him again. Everywhere he looked was bounteous cleavage, some small and perky, others heavy and round, most threatening to spill out of their flimsy garments at any moment. He was surrounded by expectant faces, all staring at him and waiting for something.