SNIPPET SOMEDAY
Tagged by @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @archangelsunited and @throughtrialbyfire -- Thanks so much you guys! My focus has been a little scattered, so it's been tough to keep up with tumblr. Mostly due to my terminal case of ENTHIR BRAINROT.
So I'll share a snippet from the new new Enthir one-off I just started, since the one of him and Urag is very close to finishing up.
I tag @kookaburra1701 @argisthebulwark @viss-and-pinegar @greyborn2 @caliblorn @skyrim-forever and @paraparadigm
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“Karliah?”
It was like seeing a ghost. She looked thinner than he remembered, half-hidden in the shadows beneath the dark cowl of her cloak, face gaunt, eyes unmistakable.
“It’s been a while, Enthir,” she said softly.
Any response was lodged half-formed in his throat. Rumor raged against reason, his hands tightening into fists to keep them steady. Was it really you who killed him? The question lingered on the tip of his tongue. But if the answer was even remotely close to ‘yes’, Enthir knew only one of them would be walking away alive. And the odds were in Karliah’s favor.
The strange Nord looked between them wearing a stupid expression. “This guy?” he said, gesturing with his thumb.
“Yes,” Karliah confirmed whatever question was really being asked.
Enthir took a moment to give the Nord more than a sweeping once-over, and a memory clicked into place. He let out an unkind bark of a laugh. “Oh, I remember you. You left quite the knuckle imprint on my jaw.”
“And I’ll do it again if you try any funny business,” the Nord spat.
“Might I remind you that you joined the Thieves Guild, you oaf. If you were looking for honest work, I might suggest the Companions.”
“Little rat.”
“Please,” Karliah cut in, stepping between them. “Bjoryn, he’s a friend.”
Enthir’s lip twisted at the comment. “Friend?” He gave Karliah a skeptical look. “I wouldn’t be so quick to claim that.”
“Enthir, you have to know it’s not true.” She lowered her hood, her large amethyst eyes cutting through the gloom of the Frozen Hearth's basement. “I loved him. As much as y–”
“Then who did it?” Enthir hissed, heat gathering in his face and fists.
“Mercer. I witnessed it. Which is why he tried to get rid of me.”
Enthir tongued along the row of his upper teeth, brow drawn tight. Yes, Mercer would make a whole hell of a lot more sense than Karliah. But he couldn’t be sure. “He succeeded, I’d say.”
“We’re here because he tried to do the same to Bjoryn,” she explained. “We’re going to put a stop to his tyranny. Restore the guild to its rightful glory. Regain the favor of Nocturnal.”
Enthir’s eyes slid to the Nord. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his unkempt brown hair pulled back into a haphazard braid. Darker complexion than most Nords, though his eyes still held that ghostly, Draugr quality—blue like ice, his sclera a shock of white in his features. He wondered if they were fucking.
“So, you survived, then?” Enthir asked. The question was acidic. What makes you so special?
“Barely,” Bjoryn ceded with a wince, running a hand along a jagged scar beneath his stubbled jaw—a hastily healed wound, thick with scarring.
Was that how Mercer had offed Gallus? Slit his throat like livestock set for slaughter? Left him to bleed out on the cold floor of an ancient tomb? The thought settled like a rock in his stomach, leaving him feeling helpless and sick.
“Why do you need me?” Enthir pressed, eyes unfocused.
“Because we need help translating this.” Karliah pulled a journal from the satchel hanging from her shoulder and handed it to Enthir.
He brushed his hand over the cover reverently, already knowing what it was. “You finally found it…” he murmured, more to himself than anything. He’d wondered after the journal himself. Gallus was rarely seen without it. Shadows of memory flitted through his mind, like dapples of sunlight shifting through a thick canopy—Gallus hunched over Enthir’s desk, scribbling away, half undressed, half asleep, his hair sticking up at an odd angle from the way he buried his head beneath Enthir’s pillows.
“Is it really so important?” Enthir asked from the bed, arching into a stretch.
“If I don’t write it down, it’ll leave my mind forever…”
“Well get back over here when you’re done.”
It felt wrong to pry into its contents. Gallus was a private man—something Enthir respected. And something they had in common. The pressure of Karliah and Bjoryn’s presence got the better of him, and he flipped the journal open. Then paused, squinting down at the page. A warm fondness unfurled behind his breastbone.
“Hah! Figures…”
“Can you make sense of it?” Bjoryn asked.
“Nope.” Enthir snapped the journal closed, offering a thin, unkind smile. “Looks like he was using the ancient Falmer alphabet as his cipher, the clever bastard.”
“Do you know where we might find a key?” Karliah ased. “He and you had a shared interest in the Falmer, so I thought…” She trailed off, waiting for Enthir to respond.
“You thought wrong.” He handed her the journal. “Though I could send you in the same direction I sent him all those years ago: Markarth.”
“Markarth?” Bjoryn repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Why?”
“To consult the Altmer court wizard, Calcelmo. Be warned, though. He’s a fiercely guarded researcher, but he had whatever resources Gallus needed to write like that.” He nodded towards the journal in Karliah’s hands.
“Will you help us translate it?” Karliah pressed. “If we get the proper materials to decode it?” She paused as Enthir let the silent stretch between them. “You knew him well, Enthir. Better than me, in some ways.”
It was a nice play. Enthir fixed her with a calculated stare, then shrugged with casual indifference. “I could be persuaded.” He crossed his arms and shifted to prop himself up against the wall. “If you’re heading to Markarth anyway, there is something I’ve been trying to get my hands on.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Bjoryn spat. “Come on, Karliah.” He placed a firm (but noticeably gentle) hand on her shoulder. “We can manage on our own.”
“What is it?” Karliah asked, refusing to move, eyes locked with Enthir.
Enthir smiled conspiratorially. “Please, step into my office.”
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