Chapter Text
The longer Erandur spent in Riften, the more his faith was tested. However, it was unshakable. Mara loved all. Even the worst of the worst she cherished. She wept for every wrongdoing. Every misfortune. Every unfortunate corruption of her children. And, right now, she was weeping at the sorry state of the city in which her temple's influence proved fruitless. From what he could tell, it wasn't entirely impossible for the corruption to have spread inside the temple. After all, he doubted the locals donated enough to keep everything in good shape and still provide enchanted rings for every newlywed. It would certainly look good on Maven's public image to be donating to a place of worship dedicated to the goddess of kindness and compassion. Despite the fact she said she'd use their pamphlets for kindling.
Mara, forgive him for such ill thoughts. They were people in need of love and compassion, patience and forgiveness. Corrupt or otherwise, she wept for them. And, so did his heart weep with her. After all, she embraced him after all the horrible things he did, the horrible things he would never stop pleading for absolution. He should embrace that they needed her, that they were just as worthy if not more so to have her presence nearby. But, he was only mortal. Guilt for the flaws mortality entailed would weigh heavy on him so long as he was weak to them.
At her alter, he knelt daily and prayed that one day he could extend her compassion further unto himself so that he may in turn extend it to others with the ease of breathing regardless of his state of mind. Nightly, he knelt at his bedside and begged her forgiveness. He pled for her gentle embrace to continue to protect him from the nightmares, from the wrath of Vaermina, from the crawling of his own skin.
Shame. It sunk into his flesh every time he turned the key to his inn room. Even though there wasn't space for him in the temple, the room for acolytes having been turned into a nursery for the expecting priestess, Erandur felt like he should've sacrificed his creature comforts. The bedroll in his ownership was in perfectly good shape. He could've slept on the temple floor. However, the lure of his own space and an actual bed outweighed his distaste for the unmistakable tavern smell and the niggling sensation he should stay in the temple, even if he could tell he was the third wheel where living there was concerned (it was understandable the married couple would want their life undisturbed by a stranger sleeping on their floor). At least, that's what he told himself every time he closed and locked the doors behind him.
One such day, he pressed his back against the door and sagged in mental exhaustion. Stress was a terrible thing to be endured. And, he would endure until his work here felt meaningful enough to return to his vigil in Dawnstar. By now, it had mounted high enough that the weight could be felt down to his bones.
"Caught you at a bad time, have I?"
That voice, while familiar, simultaneously shot his spine straight and sunk his stomach low. The suspicious woman he'd saved and traveled with turned out to be deeper into the dirty underside of the world than he originally assumed under the simple titles of thief and mercenary. If she had just been a thief, if she had just been a mercenary, if she wasn't part of the guild holding Riften in a choke hold, things would be so much easier.
He really wanted, in that moment, to ignore that part of him that regretted getting so close to her. He really wanted, in that moment, to ignore the part that didn't regret enjoying every second. Certainly, he'd felt lighter than ever for days after having parted ways. But, she was more than just a thief, she was a thug on the local crime syndicate's payroll. She took but never gave. She was a contributor to everything that was wrong in this city, this city where Mara's temple lived in the shadow of crime instead of shining above it. In all rights, there was more than just a conflict of interest when it came to bedding her. And, it tore him to pieces. He shouldn't be such a hypocrite about the situation. But, the sorry state of the city and her involvement made it very difficult to not be some level of upset. He prayed his goddess would pardon his ill-temperment.
"Moss..." He addressed the thief currently sitting in his chair as if breaking into his room was a completely normal thing to do.
"Erandur..." She grinned with that charm that once slid the robe from his shoulders.
"Why are you here?" The strength to be indignant about her complete disregard for his right to privacy couldn't be found if he tried. He was just so... tired.
"I half expected you to ask how I got in here." Mara forgive him for the way his gaze followed her hips as she slid off the chair and strutted over to him.
"I assumed you picked the lock."
"You're a sharp one." Her tone dripped with flirtatious honey.
"Why are you here?" His interjection came at just the right moment to catch her mouth hanging open for whatever was about to come out of her lips. Have mercy. The daggers she glared in his direction sliced into a part of himself that liked it.
"I was hoping you'd be a little more inviting." Her venom tingled.
"How inviting would you like me to be?" Why?! Why was that what came out of his mouth?!
Erandur could feel the sweat on his brow as she barged into his personal space. Back still against the door, he had nowhere to go when she put her arms on either side of him. It would've been comical with how wide she had to set her hands to cage him in and how much she had to angle her neck to look up at him, if only it didn't do things to him.
Eyes lidded, the tiny thief pressed herself close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of her. The scent of worn leather mixed with sweet honey and crisp autumn curled around his senses all too tantalizingly. Moss' lips parted in an intentional display of seduction. She tipped on her toes enough for him to taste snowberries and lavender on her breath, the hint of too sweet giving away her love of sugar (and likely a love of pastries given how snowberry and lavender were the dumplings of the day at the local baker).
"I think you know how inviting I want you to be."
Conflicted, Erandur could only stay frozen. How alluring she was with the promise of another evening of uncomplicated stress relief. But, she was part of a bigger problem. And, yet she was also pulling the right strings to coax him into indulging again. Everything lumped together told of how much a bad idea it would be to let her persuade him. Not to mention how far this was straying into Dibella's territory. How swift it could easily get into Sanguine's territory if he continued to give in to impulse. Mara preserve him.
"I know better than to think this is an easy decision for you, given you now have the full picture of just how 'evil' I am. You think about your faith so much, you fight your impulses, you're a loyal and dedicated priest of Mara. But, I have no such ties. I have no shame in admitting that I crave you. And, I have no reason not to act on my desires." Grant him strength for how he shuddered when she tilted to tickle his ear and neck with her gentle whisper. "Which is why I know your answer is no. Even with the tent in your robes."
Moss' pulling away brought a sharp intake of air into his lungs. A sudden awareness washed over him at how easily she could hold his breath for ransom. The further she stepped back, the more he could feel the dampness of his neck and palms in the absence of her warmth. Damn his body for wanting so badly in that moment.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'll just leave you to take care of yourself. Find me if you ever change your mind. Or, if you don't have the courage for it, I'll find you."
Erandur was too awkward to have a response to that, other than moving away from the door to let her out. It shocked him how unceremoniously she left him to his own devices, left him unseasonably warm with his robes feeling obnoxiously stuffy. He needed some air, but that would've involved following her and going through the den of alcoholism and rowdiness downstairs.
Curse his traitorous mortal coil. Door locked and alone, he was left with little other than his wild thoughts. Wild thoughts and the urge to do something about his erection. He should- No, he'd already done more than his fair share of things to be forgiven for. Indulging in fantasies of someone who would only hurt him and others need not be added to that list.
That night his sleep was troubled with the memory of her flesh under his palms.
----
"You seem to be very distracted lately, my friend."
"I'm not talking about it here, Inigo."
He shouldn't be eavesdropping, he really shouldn't. Yet, Erandur was too cowardly to just go out in front of them to continue about his day and far too awkward to want to go back through the busy crowd lingering behind him in the market square.
"Why not? No one is going to hear you over the hustle and the bustle unless you start yelling. Besides, if anyone gets into hearing distance, I'll smell them coming."
"Inigo..."
"Moss..."
She inhaled sharply. "Fine. I've got an itch I can't scratch."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. You remember me telling you about that priest that saved me?"
Inigo chuckled. "How could I forget? You wouldn't shut up about him when you got home. Speaking of, I still need to thank him for that."
Moss sighed in half-hearted exasperation. "Yeah yeah, we'll stop by the temple some time, see if he's still around."
"So, you can't get him out of your brain, can you?"
"No. I can't. But, unfortunately, he hates me now."
"He does?" Doesn't he?
"Do-gooder learns I'm not just a thief but one that's banded together with her friends to terrify the province into buying better locks. The fact I exclusively go after the dead part of a dead or alive bounty doesn't help any either."
"So? You steal from the rich and stupid and keep the prisons from being overcrowded. I can see some morral grayness there, but nothing enough to hate you."
"Inigo, I'm so greedy I stole my breakfast when my coin purse is full."
"You also split it with a beggar." Probably only for information.
"For no reason other than information." See? He knows how the system works.
"You may tell yourself that, but I've seen you sneak food to the orphans when they're out and about. Do they give you something in return?" What?
Silence.
"See? You're not as bad as you think."
"What am I supposed to say? I give food to starving children. Will you touch me now, oh benevolent priest of Mara?"
"Good point... You know, I've never seen you linger this much on a fling."
"Whatever you're implying there can go right back where you pulled it out of. He's just different in a way I didn't realize I had a thing for."
"Keep telling yourself that, my friend."
A sudden chittering at his ankles brought Erandur back to his own location. It was odd to see a skeever so docile and clean. Even odder to see one with a collar around its neck and a pack on its back. This- This must be the pet Moss had mentioned. What was its name again? It started with an S. Sniffer? No. Scrunkly? Also, no. Scratch? Close but not quite. Skritch! Skritch was her name.
Well, don't blame the pet for the sins of its master. Besides, she was kind of cute in the same vein as kwama scribs. Especially with how she was sniffing at him with those scraggly whiskers twitching. "Hello, little Skritch. Can I help you with something?" Erandur tried to keep his voice down but knew in his gut he'd accidentally alerted the thief and her friend to his position.
The skeever, the little rascal, grabbed hold of part of his robe in her teeth and started pulling. "Hey now! Quit that!" Between letting himself be pulled along and having a large tear in his robes, he chose the first option, following the small animal as it dragged him out into the open and in full sight of the pair of friends. The blasted little creature didn't let go until he was within a few feet of them.
Inigo chuckled. "I'll go get Skritch something to eat that isn't clothing. You two, have fun."
"Wait!" Moss called only to find her friend already making off with her precious baby for second lunch. She cursed under her breath, scowling as she rubbed at her temples. "Hi, Erandur."
"Good afternoon, my daughter."
"Being in public certainly straightened out your attitude a bit. That is, unless you were listening in with those pretty pointed ears of yours."
He could lie. He really could, but the warmth in his cheeks was more than telling.
"I see... I won't bother asking how much you heard."
For that, he was grateful. However, he didn't know how to move forward. Continue the conversation? Give some parting words? Change the subject? Gods, this was an awkward position. "You were right, tamed skeevers do seem to be incredibly loyal and one might even say cute. However, I think you forgot to mention just how intelligent they are."
"You say that now, wait until you see her charge mouth first into a dragon."
Erandur hid his smile into the side of his hood, unable to stop the snrrk that slipped out at the imagery of a large rodent picking a fight with a dragon. "Quite an amusing mental image. However, I'd rather not see it in person, given how deadly dragons are."
"Fair point. I almost wet myself the first time I saw one up close."
"You've been face to face with a dragon?"
"They are menaces on the road. Luckily, I have Inigo with me most of the time. Otherwise, I'd be constantly employing the run and hide technique. Could not do it alone. He's got more power in his sword swings than I and has the most impeccable aim with a bow I've ever seen."
"You two sound very close."
Moss grinned with the sharpness of a scamp's claw. "Thick as thieves."
Given their location, the joke landed just right for him to let out a huff through his nose. "Is he also in your... profession?" Judging by the fact Inigo wasn't in guild leathers, it seemed unlikely he held a place next to her in the organization.
She snorted. "I wish he was, but that cat couldn't pick a lock to save his life. He can be silent as a shadow, but that's about it. We do mercenary work together. Well, mercenary work and some freelance adventuring."
"You sound like quite the busy woman."
"Well, you see, the secret to getting a lot done at once is planning multiple tasks in the same general area. For example. If the boss gives me a job in Windhelm, I'll pick up a bounty or two in Kynesgrove, catch some rumors where I can, and consult my map for locations of interest. Then, I plan everything around travel time, difficulty, current supplies and the like. And, sometimes I'll just wander off and stumble upon things on the way back."
"Fascinating. I didn't take you for someone to be so organized."
"Oh, trust me. I'm not unless I have to be. I have places for everything in my house and still just dump my excess loot in the same chest."
"Surely, you have to sort it at some point."
"Indeed I do. And, I will complain endlessly every time I have no other choice."
It struck him suddenly how easily they slid into and got carried away with casual conversation. Yes, he still had things to do. Errands to run. "Do forgive me, but-"
"You need to get going?" He nodded in answer. "Go on. I need to find out where Inigo and Skritch ran off to, anyway."
"Have a blessed rest of your day, my daughter."
She waved a hand at his stiff formality. "Yeah, yeah. I'll catch you later, ruby eyes."
Was that a new nickname? A... flattering one at that. Oh sweet Mara, what was he to do when a mere nickname out of her lips could set his face on fire?