Fresh Perspective (parts 5/5) - updated 4/8

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Hmmm... lovely. Very much enjoying the adventures of the Khajit and Nord. Very much looking forward to the conclusion of the story.

[Dye]

Aaahhh, this is just gorgeous, and I just dkjghdkjfhlkshgjsdhkjfgskjhfdlkj Farouq is LOVE.

[March Hare]

Aaahhh, this is just gorgeous, and I just dkjghdkjfhlkshgjsdhkjfgskjhfdlkj Farouq is LOVE.

Ah, no no no... Farouq is SEX. Hngh.

[SterlingSilver]

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

THANK YOU GARNET <3 <3 <3 <3

I was on Farouq withdrawl. But now, it's all better <3..

I love the characters, the emotion, the depth of this piece. I love it. I can't wait for the amazing finale~

I'm fangirling xDD

[Garnet]

Last part, I think. I love you all so much, your comments and feedback totally make my day ;u; Thank you much, and enjoy!

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They had reached the encampment at a fortunate time. Farouq was already sagging in his saddle, but as they descended into the valley Kyris had to reach out and keep one hand on his shoulder and hold him upright.

"A bit farther," she promised. The torchlights were growing larger with each slogging step of the horses. "We're nearly there." She was sure that this wouldn't be the last or even the most difficult leg of their journey together, but hopefully her companion could at least get some well-needed rest before he died of exposure or exhaustion. Both, maybe.

Soon, she could make out the figures of two guards minding the main entrance into the camp. She was quite sure there were many others stationed at the camp's perimeters, or even lurking quietly in the shadows waiting to pounce. A big red cat with a battered ear and a nosering held his torch aloft as the horses approached.

"Who goes," he called out gruffly.

Kyris glanced to her companion, but he seemed almost entirely out of it. She sighed, reigned in the horses, and carefully straightened him in his saddle before raising both hands to show that she meant no harm.

"Mere travelers, seeking refuge. Please, we mean no harm," she offered, unintentionally recalling Farouq's initial appeal to her own good graces.

The larger guard eyed her warily, while his shorter companion drew up alongside them and held her own torch up.

Farouq blinked in irritation at the light source, but it seemed to stir him from his daze. He sniffled sharply and turned towards the female guard, uttering something in a rapid, fricative language that Kyris assumed to be his own.

The guard replied in the same tongue, and shared a look with her fellow. Big Red nodded and made some remark as well, while the Nord merely stared in uncertain anticipation.

"Your friend is very ill," the female rasped at her, after another moment of tense conversation.

"Y-yes, I know. He needs food and rest. I cannot bring his fever down."

"Should not be traveling."

Kyris closed her eyes. "Would that we had the choice. Please..."

She reopened just in time to see Farouq starting to list dangerously to one side in his saddle, and reached out hastily to grab his shoulder, straightening him. The silver cat murmured something in the way of thanks, then stifled a quick 'kftssh!' into one glove, trying his best to conceal the sound or perhaps too weary to even give that any strength.

The female frowned, and shared a few more quick words with the larger male, interspersed with a soft growling comment from Farouq. She dearly wished she had the slightest idea what they were talking about. Then again, perhaps ignorance was indeed bliss. She had the distinct suspicion that they were not discussing Farouq's fate so much as her own.

At last, the female turned back to her with a short nod.

"Khajiit will harbor you, and tend to your companion. Turn out your weapons."

With a sigh of relief, Kyris slid free her dagger and another she kept in her pack. She wasn't happy to see them go, but shelter seemed a more appealing idea than steel at her hip right now.

Farouq took a considerably longer time to unequip. Not because he was sick and slow, but because the cat was armed to his bloody teeth. Even after all his blades and tricks had been cast to the snow, she suspected that he probably still had one or two concealed on his person somewhere. Still, the guards seemed satisfied, and led them into the camp.

They were permitted to unload their packs, but the horses were led away, and Kyris stared after her brown with some apprehension. She wondered if she would ever see the mare again.

For a few moments, she stood in confusion with one arm wrapped around Farouq to keep him upright. Strange, her mind mused absurdly, even though he's slouching... he's much shorter that I first imagined. I've known taller Nord women. Somehow, it only made her the more earnest in protecting him. The assassin thief, right.

"Ktssh!" Farouq sneezed again, weary. "Eht... ktssh!"

"Bless," Kyris murmured, rubbing his shoulder gently and craning her gaze about for the guards. Where had they gone? Were they meant to find their own lodgings in the encampment or...

All at once, an older khajiit female swept up upon the, chattering at her sharply in that same foreign tongue. A younger attendant, perhaps her son, reached out to take Farouq from her and shift his support onto his own shoulder.

"W-wait, he's injured, he needs--" she protested, only to be interrupted by another stream of angry sounds. The female was pointing firmly at her and then the direction of the central campfire, making a dismissive gesture.

Kyris glanced to the other male, but he only smiled in that vague, uncomprehending way at her dismay.

"She is a healer," Farouq managed to croak, sensing her panic. For a moment she thought he was referring to herself, but he nodded to the older cat, then swept the back of a glove against his nose and smiled. Weak, but genuine. "This one will be fine. Join the others at the fire."

The Nord scowled, but took a step after them. "I'm a healer," she reminded Farouq hotly. "Wait, let me come, let me help, I--"

Again the shrew-ish khajiit interrupted her, scolding and showing her teeth until Kyris backed down in annoyance. And then the pair were whisking her companion away, and she was truly alone amidst a foreign people.

Kyris exhaled a long breath, and spent a moment to regain her composure. Was this what the non-Nords felt like in Windhelm? In any Nord city? Even the dunmer were treated with marginally more alacrity than the beast races.

Well. At least they'd let her into the encampment. Bolstering her confidence, she curled her hands at either elbow and slowly picked her way over to the large central bonfire.

There were some two dozen or more khajiit gathered around the main fire, which blazed tall and hot. The dry heat was a welcome respite from the chill of the wild, though, and Kyris was seduced by the scent of roasting meat spits, and the murmur of song and story. For a while, no one acknowledged her presence, and she was skimming her gaze over those assembled or engrossed in conversation, debating who she could approach.

And then, before she'd fully realized it, there was a striped khajiit pressing a wooden bowl into her hands and dragging over to a fallen log serving as a bench.

"Sit, child. You are dead on your feet."

Kyris sat. Dizzy relief flooded her, unaware how long she'd truly been riding until she was off her feet and had a hot slice of roast mutton and grilled leeks shoved under her nose. She hastily filled her mouth before it even occurred to thank her benefactor, but the big tiger seemed to think little of it as he plunked himself down beside her on the bench.

"Poor weather for traveling," he clicked his tongue in amusement. "You come to trade?"

Struggling over a tough bite of meat, Kyris shook her head and chewed hard for a few moments, wishing she had the shearing carnassial teeth of these cats. The striped khajiit took pity on her and held out his belt knife, receiving a grateful nod in return. When she finally managed to swallow, she replied.

"No, I'm only attending a...." She hesitated. A tenant turned murderer turned travel companion? "A friend. A sick friend."

"Noble of you."

She eyed the tiger uncertainly, but he seemed genuine, smiling blankly and encouraging her to keep eating. When her stomach no longer ached with hunger, she found the striped cat foisting a hot cup of mead upon her, and then another. And another. Who was she to deny it? The alcohol warmed her insides pleasantly and took the edge from her exhaustion and nerves alike. The tiger, she learned as her sobriety slowly melted away, was named Meeir, and had a daughter Jiqaza. The latter was a small khajiit kitten who spoke no word of the common tongue but ended up in her lap anyway, tiny clawed hands carefully and delightedly braiding Kyris's hair.

There was a strange sense of companionship in these cats. While initially a bit guarded to outsiders, she suspected (or rather, knew full well) that like begat like. Into the second hour of laughing and toasting a few of the surrounding cats, she even stopped discreetly double-checking to ensure that no skillful fingers had relieved her of her coinpurse. And so for the better part of the night, she drank away her worries, both for her own safety and Farouq's, and slowly warmed to strange company. A few of them likened to her in turn, soon enthralling the Nord with their story and song and delighted when she offered a few of her own.

Strange, the difference a few days, sneezes, and breakneck escapes from a walled city could have on her perspectives.

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She didn't remember going to bed that night, but when she awoke some hours (days?) later, it was with a brief start. The familiar dimensions of her inn at Windhelm were leagues and leagues away now, the extent of her off-the-cuff decisions flooding her logy mind.

But. There was the weight of her coin purse at her hip, and the heavy comfort of blankets and sleeping furs draped over her. She was neither robbed nor raped. Nor sleeping out with the horses and her back to the wind, as she'd rather expect of a Nord in khajiit territory. Instead she blinked back to consciousness into the odd, dim comfort of a hide tent erected around her, smelling faintly of smoke and herbs. A strange hospitality in an inhospitable land.

Her heavy outer garments had been stacked in a neat pile beside the bedroll, though she retained light trousers and a sleeveless tunic beneath the covers. The air still had a chill bite to it, and she could hear wind moaning through the camp beyond, but she was warm and snug beneath the furs, in this strange lull of quiet and darkness.

Well, almost quiet.

There was a vague fluttering, hitching sound tickling at the edge of her consciousness. Slowly, Kyris shifted about in the covers and looked to her side.

It was mostly dark in the tent, but the flickering glow of campfires could be seen through even the thick hide and leaking in the cracks of the bindings. Was this the same eve, or had she already slept through the day and into the next? She hated feeling disoriented, but was momentarily more concerned by the realization that she was not alone in the tent.

Another bed had been made up near hers, and was currently occupied by the shadow of a khajiit sitting upright, the back of one hand pressed to their face.

"Hh-- hh! Hh! -- nkxtshh!"

Even stifled to near-silence, she recognized the sound with a slow-curling smile.

"Don't do that, cat."

Sniffling in surprise, the shape turned to her, ears flicking. "Ah, you are awake." Farouq sounded pleased, and a touch chagrined.

"I am now. I hope you haven't been holding them in like that for my sake," Kyris began dubiously, propping herself up on one arm and squinting to get a better look at him.

He negated the need for adjustment by leaning over and striking spark to a little oil-lamp sitting a safe distance from the furs. A pleasant little contained flame was soon diffusing its warm glow across them, and she sighed with relief to see him looking alert, freshly-bathed and with his wounds redressed.

"This one thinks you needed rest as much as he," Farouq replied evasively, eyes bright in the candleglow but no longer seeming dazed or feverish.

"I wasn't the one falling out of my saddle," Kyris said around a yawn, stretching her long limbs beneath the covers. "How long was I... were we out?"

"A night and a day, and now a night again it seems."

She grimaced. "We are a burden..."

Farouq turned up the corners of his mouth. "Farouq has taken care of it. Khajiit are very patient when pockets are lined." He sniffed, wrinkling up his muzzle on one side. "Although on the morrow we will be expected to pull our weight so long as we stay."

"We stay until you're better," she insisted with a frown, brooking no arguments. "How are you feeling, anyway?"

Farouq sniffled and relaxed his expression, but let a small shiver wrack him. "Better and better, merely tired now. And cold."

She eyed his unclothed torso bent over his own mess of blankets and furs. Even with a coat of his own and protected from the wind, she didn't care to see him exposed like that. At least, for medical reasons.

"Get back under those covers. Traveling with a khajiit caravan does not mean we've left Skyrim, in case you'd forgotten."

He only smiled wryly, looking down at her with a queer mixture of amusement and affection. Feline faces were not as difficult to read as she'd initially thought, much could be inferred from the tilt of his ears or brows.

"These sands are cold," he agreed. "But this one feels warm in your presence."

She swallowed against a little lump in her throat. She wasn't typically one to fall for flattery, but the damned fleabag's silver tongue was starting to get to her.

Before she could concoct an appropriately snarky response, however, Farouq made a slight face and turned away, breath shivering in.

"Aht! AHT'KTSSHH--ue!! Ah."

"Gods bless! You were holding on to that one a while," she observed with amusement. Relief smoothed his features over in the aftermath, now that he was not containing them in in an effort to be quiet.

"Just so." He sighed and rubbed the back of a hand against his nose, for apparent lack of handkerchief. Damn her heart...

"Farouq."

"Mmn?"

She held the covers of her makeshift bed open with a sigh herself this time, beckoning him inside. If he would not sleep in his own bed, she could at least warm him with her body heat. His look of surprise alone made the gesture worthwhile, but she was pleased when he made no hesitation to accept the offer.

It took them a few moments to situate comfortably, but even Kyris had to admit that khajiit were perfect bedmates for a cold dark night. With his head snuggled contentedly against her collar and a hand resting at her middle, she had her own free to gently stroke his back and arms and neck. His fur was wonderfully soft where her fingertips dug in, combing and smoothing out the sleek silver coat, and his breath and whiskers tickled warmly against her throat. She was relieved that he no longer radiated with the heat of fever, however, and she passed a hand over the fresh bandages to check their tightness.

"Shoran made good work of you," she remarked, recalling the healer's name from a conversation with Meeir.

"Mmm," Farouq murmured against her neck, after flicking an ear once in surprise. "She changed the dressings and gave me a tea to bring the fever down and ease the pains." He sniffed and nuzzled his cheek against her skin. He seemed to enjoy the close vicinity as much as she, no matter the strangeness. "But she has....not an appreciable bedside manner. This one would have preferred your company."

"Small wonder, since I let you climb into my bed," Kyris smiled. He was being more polite than she might have imagined for a charismatic rogue, however, keeping his hands carefully above her waist. She, meanwhile, could not resist sliding her touch briefly lower to stroke his tail. When the khajiit shivered bodily in response, she paused with brows raised. "I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable?"

"No," he sighed and rubbed his brow gently against her shoulder without even seeming to realize it. "It is... very good. See? Bedside manner."

She obliged him with another few strokes to the tail, and then went back to simply cradling his neck and ears with soft touches. Peaceful and safe like this, she could temporarily forget the surreal feeling of leaving her entire life behind, forget the bodies in the stables and in the woods, how much blood had graced this cat's hands or her own. For the sake of this crossing, if nothing else, she would mind him and he her.

Though really, if he wanted to do this cuddling thing on a regular basis, she certainly would have no complaints.

Kyris was somewhere between dozing and debating whether she could get her companion to purr like a housecat, when all at once Farouq stirred against her and began to sniffle sharply, rapidly. His whiskers brushed against her throat as he squirmed his nose side to side, attempting to itch it without rubbing into her or disentangling his hands from their comfortable position.

"Alright?" She murmured, though she had some sense of where this was going.

"snff! A tickle in my nose... it will not cease," Farouq complained, grimacing and snivelling sharply in an effort to chase the itch off. "This one is growing very tired of it."

"Well, you must be feeling better to be whining." She pulled back a little to peer down at him. "Sneeze if you must, it doesn't bother me."

"Farouq is not whining," he grumbled stubbornly. "And he would ra-- snff! snff! rather not wi... without a handkerchief. Snff!"

She glanced around in the glow of the lantern, but could see nothing to offer him in this regard. Where had they taken their supplies off to? Hopefully not to be divied up and redistributed amid the rest of the caravan as payment. Instead, the Nord took pity on her companion and freed one of her own hands. He appeared slightly flustered, but could think of no immediate protest as she crooked a finger and rubbed it gently against one flickering, irritated nostril. The sensation only seemed to worsen as his nose twitched open, nares quivering and breath catching. After a beat or two of tension, however, the cat exhaled with bleary relief, eyes sagging shut.

"Thank you. You are quite talented at this... sneeze-stopping."

Kyris laughed, and curled him closer, back into the warmth and safety of her breast. "It's a gift, I admit. You give me plenty of practice."

"You are not seeing Farouq at his best, he confesses," he sighed against her. "He is very dashing when not recovering from dragons and head..." He squirmed his nose a little, and relaxed again. "Headcolds."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you're quite the charmer. You never did tell me about the dragon, though."

"Ah, yes. A ferocious beast, and qui-- KHSSHHH!"

The sneeze was so abrupt and intense that neither of them had felt it coming, nor had time to draw away. He released it wetly against the bare skin of her throat and collar.

There was a beat of startled silence between them, eyes wide and Farouq's horrified. In the next breath, he jerked abruptly away from her, despite the obvious twinge of pain from his side, and freed a hand to clap over this muzzle. "By Alkosh... m-many pardons, this one is so sor---KSSH! so sorry-- KTSHH'u!" He sneezed again twice more, unable to fully cleanse nor resist the persistent tickling. They sprayed harshly against his palm, damp but contained. "It wa-- iht'KSSHH! Aht'KSSHH-uu!"

Even with the mist of his sneeze cooling on her skin, Kyris sighed in sympathy at the fit that seemed to have arrested him. "Sit tight, I'll see if I can find something."

"Aht-KHSSHH'ue!"

He had one hand pressed to his mouth and the other to his bandage now, sitting up and shuddering repeatedly in place. His naked torso... ah! Struck with sudden inspiration, Kyris dove aside for her piled and folded clothes, digging through the pockets of her overcoat and praying that she'd had the forethought to pack... ah, yes. There.

She uncovered a blessedly clean handkerchief from an inner pouch, stowed there on a whim in case he needed it and then abruptly forgotten. The Nord returned to his side quickly, pulling his hand away and quickly replacing it with the unfurled cloth.

"Heh'KTSHHH-- uu!" He sneezed sharply against her covered hand. The khajiit's nose bunched into delicate, velvet wrinkles along the bridge as he struggled with another, the urge beginning to slowly abate in favor of larger, more taxing explosions. "Ah--hh....hh... HEH'KXSHHHHoo!"

"Blow," she urged, rubbing her free hand at the spots on his back. He could barely response between the quiver-gasp-sneeze reflex. "A deep breath, come on. You've something caught in your nose, I think."

"KXSHHH!" Whether he did not not, the cat managed to take a shaking breath before the next, bracing himself, and exhale firmly through his nose. Warmth filled her hand, but the handkerchief spared her any unpleasantness even if she had cared. She folded it over and touched it to his nose gently.

"Again."

He complied, in apparent relief when she let him take it afterwards. He wiped quietly at his muzzle, but his ears were laid back and the fur of his neck ruffled. If he'd been snarling, she might have been afraid, but instead the Nord reached out to smooth down his hackles.

"Farouq, don't look like that. In the grander scheme of these past few days, a little cat spit is the least of my concerns," she reassured, although she did reach for an unused corner of blankets to wipe the area clean and dry again.

"Still, it is unseemly. You have been very kind to this one."

"Well," she murmured, "I've seen you at your worst. If you plan on entertaining my company for the next leg of the journey, you'll have ample opportunity to woo me senseless, when you're healthy." She leaned in and bumped her forehead against his gently. "Although you're already well on your way to that wooing bit. For an assassin and a thief, you are uncommonly well-mannered."

He snorted a little at that, but seemed to relax, letting her guide him back down into the bed and draw the covers over his torso. "And for an innkeeper, you have a surprising sense of adventure," he replied, the corner of his mouth wryly upturned. He kept his hands near his jaw this time as he curled against her, occasionally applying the handkerchief to his nose with tiny watering sniffles. She went back to scratching him gently behind the ears and, when he did not seem opposed, gently smoothing the pads of her fingers over his fur-softened facial features. She carefully minded his nose, but stroked his brow and cheekbones, delighting when she rubbed his jaw and earned a low, thrumming purr of approval.

"Ah, I'd wondered if you could do that."

"Mmn?" He mumbled sleepily, without ceasing that soft, sawing sound of approval.

"You're purring."

"Just so?" He stifled a yawn against one hand, daggered teeth flashing, and then gave a little cough. "Farouq is content. He enjoys your company."

She pressed a mild kiss to his forehead. "If you're done sneezing, you should get some rest."

He thought on this a moment, testing his nose with a few crinkles and twitching sniffs. At last, he seemed satisfied and curled back into her, tail snaking around her legs beneath the covers. Kyris smirked, but permitted this.

"This one is alright for now, but do not be cross if he wakes you with his sniffling. It cannot be helped."

"I'll try not to elbow you too hard," she agreed with a smirk, and stretched a hand above her head to snuff the oil lamp. "Goodnight, cat."

"Goodnight, Kyris."

Edited April 9, 2012 by Garnet

[SterlingSilver]

IOGSRJIOGNSL:NFEIWO{HGOINGFEIOWNGIOEW *keyboard smash*

OMG IT'S HERE. IT'S HEREEEEEE!.. Reading this at 2:00 AM, Monday morning, and this MADE the whole day ahead of me, Garnet~!.. <3... It's the most adorablest thing in the whole world <3

[TheCakeIsAlive]

D'awww! This one is *very* cute. Lovely conclusion to a lovely story.

[pinknose]

omaigodomaigodomaigoddddddd!!

Okay, done spazzing now (mostly). This story is just... so beautiful. ;__; Please don't say it's over! You will make the fans cry!!