Chapter Text
“Dammit, Vitus, you’re as bad as Brynjolf!” The red-haired Bosmer tore into him. Though she was but a fraction of his size, she held more fire than the bloody Red Mountain. “No! I take that back! You’re worse!” She snatched the bun of his jet black hair and gave it a punishing yank. “At least Brynjolf is intelligent enough to evade jail!”
“Ow! Knock it off, you little goblin!”
Iselin released him. “Can you at least explain what in Oblivion had crossed your mind?!”
It surely had to be an amusing sight for the two guards that stood on either side of his shoulders. “No wonder they’ve named her ‘The Stormcaller.’” The one on his left quipped to his commander.
Vitus forced a neutral expression to his face. Smirking would in no way endear himself to his seething friend. “Iselin. Relax. You act as if I’ve burnt down all of Valenwood.”
Nostrils flared a hint as the Wood Elf seethed over his flippant remark. “I’d be less mad if you had!” She shouted then took a couple steps to the side, running a hand across the top of her head. “Did you not come to Skyrim to find honest work and pay off your debts from Cyrodiil?”
A soft sound rumbled from Vitus’ throat as he turned his face away. “Pay off my debts? Yes.” He responded in a low voice. “Honest work? I never claimed that was part of the deal.”
Iselin’s expression flattened. “So, you try to sell the Temple of Mara?”
“I had an legitimate buyer.”
“You realize that doesn’t…ugh! Never mind.” The elf pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bring me his file.” She muttered to the guards.
“One of the largest we have here.” The commanding officer commented, moving towards a desk. “Vitus Demirio, Imperial, 27.”
“28.” Vitus interrupted. “I had a birthday last week.”
“Apologies.” The guard nodded. “I think I was at that party too.”
Vitus smirked. “Good one, right? I think next year I'll-”
“Shut up.” Iselin glared at him. When she spoke again, she addressed the two guards. “I will pay off his fine.” Her words were delivered slowly and deliberately. “You have the word of the Companions,” she scrutinized Vitus with steely-gray eyes, “he will not cause you any more trouble.”
“If you say so, Harbinger.” With the fluid swipe of a dagger, Vitus’ wrists were freed. “But if you forgive my honesty, I believe the Companions are wasting their time on this one.” The captain started drawing up the paperwork. “300 gold for his release.”
Vitus accepted his swords and armor from the other guard. “If I may interject…”
A resounding ‘no’ rose from each man and mer in the room.
Vitus promptly ignored them. “With all due respect, Harbinger,” his words dripped with sarcasm, “I never had any intention of being the Companions’ burden to bear.” He reminded her. “A little bird dragged me along when she decided to fly straight.” He eyed his friend knowingly.
Iselin glanced his direction, and her features softened faintly. She’d been a Nightingale when Vitus first arrived in Riften nearly four years prior. A damn good one too. Perhaps she still was at heart. After all, one never truly escaped the hold of Nocturnal. The shadows always called.
She and Brynjolf had seen the potential in Vitus from the moment they'd crossed paths, and they hadn’t been wrong. A silver-tongued con artist and a thief all-in-one. His honeyed words and charming smile had the guild rolling in Septims before long. But he was also a partier and a gambler. He brought in large payoffs, but often at the price of unnecessary risks.
“You’re a talented blacksmith, Vitus.” Her voice had softened considerably. “It’s in your blood.”
Vitus stared straight ahead. His blue eyes, uncharacteristic of an Imperial, remained unreadable.
“You could open a shop tomorrow and likely put nearly every smith in Skyrim out of business.”
He grunted softly. “The Demirio name is known for their steel and their fire.” He slowly agreed, then finally eyed her. “But that proud lineage will belong to my eldest brother in the Imperial City.” He reminded her. “Not me.”
Iselin leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. “Then forge your own path.” She murmured. “I don’t care what they say, a sabre cat can always change his stripes.”
“Speaking of yourself again?”
She snorted softly. “And why shouldn’t I?” She gave a rueful grin. “I’ve been eye-to-eye with the consequences of my choices, and I’ve experienced great mercy shown by those who had every right to enact justice.” She reminded him.
The head guard handed her a parchment to sign.
“’Mercy?’ If you say so.” Vitus appeared amused. “I believe Farkas was enamored with you the instant he caught you attempting to make off with Wuuthrad.” He chuckled to himself. “That being the only reason you didn’t end up wolf food.”
Deadpanned, Iselin glanced at the guards. “I retract my previous statement. How soon can you set him up for an execution?” She pointed her thumb at Vitus.
“I can’t order a beheading for a con job, Harbinger.” The guard responded, attempting to sound professional. Attempting, but failing.
“You people have done more over less.”
The guard shook his head and finished his work. “I can only execute traitors, murderers, and livestock thieves.”
Iselin sighed. “I understand.” She shifted her helmet beneath her arm. “Vitus, on your way out, steal a chicken.”
He glared as they started for the exit.
“Mr. Dragonfly, just because I am in a cage, does not mean you must be as well.”
A throaty voice from the cell they passed caused Vitus to absently glance over. The odd sight caused him pause.
A large, blue-furred Khajiit sat at a table within his cell, talking to an insect in a jar. He was without apparel aside from a modest wrap that obscured his waist to his thigh.
“What’s the cat’s problem?” Vitus found himself asking without even realizing.
The guard followed his gaze and huffed out a bemused laugh. “Crazy Khajiit.” He shook his head. “Came in here about three months ago, rambling on about killing someone. Never did find a body. Not even any sign of a fight. My guess was he was strung out on skooma. His kind always is. We sent him away at least four times. Finally, HE paid US to lock him up in there.” The man chuckled to himself. “If he keeps paying us rent, we’ll keep him in here. Pays better than the other garbage we bring in.”
“Are you sure you do not want me to release you, Mr. Dragonfly?”
Vitus frowned and stopped. “Hey, Khajiit!” He hollered through the bars.
The blue cat went silent and gazed at him, yellow eyes emitting an unsettling glow across the dark gloom of the prison cell.
“This isn’t ‘The Bee and Barb’.” Vitus began, gesturing lazily with his head. “You don’t have to pay them for a bed.”
The Khajiit stared at him a moment longer, suddenly, the glowing yellow of his eyes vanished as his pupils nearly doubled in size. “You! You have come to kill me at last, have you!?”
The question stunned Vitus into silence, prompting him to stutter backwards a step. Meanwhile, both Iselin and the guard wordlessly eyed him.
“Thank the gods.” The Khajiit uttered. “I can bear the guilt no longer.”
Vitus frowned. “What are you on about, Cat?” He mustered the question over an unsettling feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.
“Stop playing stupid with me.” The cat stood but did not approach the bars. “I know I must die, and by your hand. But I must warn you, I have found honor in my few remaining months and it demands that I at least attempt to defend myself.”
“You, uh, you think you know me?” Vitus asked, raising his brow.
Anger flickered in the glowing irises of the Khajiit. “I am in no mood for your jokes! Take your swords!” He motioned to the weapon belt tossed over Vitus’ shoulder. “Strike me down! Have your revenge!”
“Easy, Khajiit!” Vitus held his hands up.
The guard slammed his fist against the barred door. “Enough, Cat! Or I'll have you wrung out like a-”
“Wait.” Vitus spread his arm to the side, urging calmer heads to prevail. “Look, Cat, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” He faintly shook his head. “Who are you?”
Several emotions crossed the despondent prisoner's face. Shock, anger, maybe betrayal? But it almost sounded like pain when the Khajiit finally spoke again. “You…you do not remember me? Argh!” He hung his head. “That is my fault also.” He whispered, then took a shaky breath. “I am your so-called friend - Inigo.” He responded, raising his gaze back to Vitus. “I was the one who killed you.”
News to Vitus. He shared a silent glance with Iselin.
The cat continued. “I tried anyway.” His hands clenched into fists as his maw drew back into a snarl. “I am guilty! Kill me!”
Vitus placed both hands on the bars of the prison cell. “Killed me?” He repeated, finding a certain amount of amusement beginning to grow amidst his confusion and his concern. “You didn’t do a very good job, then, did you?” He offered his characteristic smirk. “Why are you here, Inigo?”
Inigo took a step closer to the bars, drawing to a stop while still several feet away. “After I shot you, I realized my mistake. I tried to turn myself in.” He eyed the guard standing between Iselin and Vitus. “But when I took the guards to the scene, your body was gone. The guards…they did not believe me. They kept saying I was wasting their time. I finally had to pay them to put me in this cell.” He released a heavy breath. “It is where I belong. I needed to repent.” He shook his head. “No. I NEED to repent.” He corrected himself.
Vitus remained silent for several beats. He met Iselin’s gaze again, something communicating between the two of them.
The Bosmer offered the faintest hint of a nod.
Vitus looked back into the cell. “Inigo. I’m not the person you think you're remembering.” He replied as carefully and clearly as possible. “But if I deserve a second chance-”
“Seventh chance.” Iselin corrected him sharply.
He shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes but continued nonetheless. “-Then perhaps you do as well.”
The cat frowned. “Stop messing with my head. I know you are the one I betrayed.”
This was going nowhere. So, Vitus tried another angle. “Fine, Inigo.” He folded his arms. “If I’m the one you betrayed, then you owe me this request. Leave this cell and get on with your life.”
Inigo was quiet for a long moment, as if weighing the proposition. He finally approached the cell door. “Leave this cell? That is what you request of me? After all I have done?”
The Khajiit was obviously as mad as Sheogorath, but he didn't seem to deserve jail for that. “Yes, Inigo. That’s my request.”
The cat slowly grinned. “Ah ha! Yes! It is brilliant! I will repay my debt with the blood of your foes!”
"Perfect. See-" Vitus frowned. “Wait. What?”
“I will fight with you! Or die defending you!” The Khajiit swore, crossing his forearm across his chest in a pledge.
Iselin couldn’t help the amused chortle that escaped her lips.
Inigo beamed “Yes! I accept! I already feel lighter in my heart now that you have given me this opportunity.”
Vitus rapidly shook his head. “I don’t need a-”
“You heard them.” Iselin interrupted and motioned to the cell door. “The cat comes with us as well.” She considered the guard. “If you have no legal evidence holding him here, after all.” She smirked.
The guard grunted and opened a nearby strong box, pulling out a separate ring of keys. “Every time Vitus ends up in this prison, I end up with a bigger headache.”
“Consider this his last time.” Iselin responded, eyeing her friend knowingly. “If not the Companions, I’m sure his new friend will keep him in line.”
The cell swung open with a creaking squeal. “It will be like old times.” Inigo assured Vitus with a toothy smile.
Vitus groaned softly. “Right. ‘Old times.’” He quoted with his fingers. “Look, just watch your aim with that bow of yours, got it?”
“Do not joke about such things, my friend.” Inigo’s ears slightly fell back. “The sadness I feel for what I have done…it is brutal enough.” He left the cell, following the guard for his own papers.
Vitus searched the cell behind him, noting the jar with the dragonfly was left on the table. “Hey, Inigo.” He lifted the jar and found a journal beneath. Brow furrowing, he quickly shifted the small book into his pocket before the cat reappeared. “You, uh, left someone.” He held up the jar.
“Mr. Dragonfly! I, of course, would never leave you behind.” He approached, then stopped himself for some strange reason. “My friend, wait. No. If you wish to carry Mr. Dragonfly, I will be fine with that. I trust you.”
Expression softening, Vitus shook his head, keeping his eyes cast away. “I rather think, eh, Mr. Dragonfly, is it? Mr. Dragonfly would, um, probably be more comfortable with you.” He passed the jar off.
The cat beamed. “Thank you, my friend! Mr. Dragonfly thanks you as well!”
“Of course he does.” Vitus mumbled.
Once more the Khajiit followed the guard to the desk while Iselin approached Vitus from behind. “That is not your book to keep.” She whispered in a tone so low only he could hear.
Vitus did not turn. “That is not your worry to bear.” He replied stiffly. “You got me into this.”
Iselin snorted. “I’ve gotten you into more than you even know.”
He turned, eyeing her questioningly.
“We will discuss it further outside.” She assured him.
With that, Inigo approached them once more and it was at that point Vitus remembered the cat was practically naked. “Um…Inigo. Clothes?”
“Everything I own is gone.” The Khajiit answered solemnly.
“Of course it is.” Vitus released a breath. “Guard. Can you give the cat some clothes?”
“Not my problem, Thief.”
Vitus rubbed his temples. “Give the cat some damn clothes or I’ll steal yours straight from your body.”
Iselin covered her eyes with a groan.
However, the bluff seemed to work. A moment later, a set of prison rags was tossed at them and Inigo pulled the baggy fabric over his limbs and fur.
Vitus sighed. “Fine. I’ll find you some new armor when we get out of here.” He followed Iselin from the Hold’s prison out into the foggy Riften morning. “I’ll have to get a few Septims though.” He mused thoughtfully. “Scam a couple-a-”
Iselin stopped on the steps of Mistveil Keep and turned to face both the Imperial and the Khajiit. “-Perfect segue.” She smirked, cutting off Vitus’ musings. “The Companions have a job for you, Vitus.”
He frowned, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Excellent. What is it this time? Killing, maiming, intimidating? Oh, I know, arm wrestling a hagraven.”
“Funny. But no. None of the above.” She shook her head. “You officially have a job with the Dawnguard.”
Creases lined his brow. “I’m sorry, whomst?”
“The Dawnguard. Vampire hunters.” She explained further. “They’re gathering in an old fort east of the Riften gates.” She handed him a folded map and a set of orders.
Vitus eyed the papers incredulously. “Sorry, Elf.” He forced the papers back into her hands, knowing all too well how she hated being called ‘elf.’ “I don’t vampire hunt.” He started for his home at Honeyside.
Iselin remained rooted on the steps. “And you don’t have to.” She called after him.
He paused, but didn’t turn.
Inigo took a few steps down the stairs, coming to a stop beside Iselin.
“You are to be their blacksmith.” She explained. “At least temporarily. They have a smith they want to hire, but he hasn’t been heard from in years.”
“I’d rather get eaten by a werewolf.” Vitus replied flatly.
“I could always have that arranged.” Iselin pointed out, narrowing her eyes.
Vitus turned. “A second-pick blacksmith for a bunch of vampire hunters? You do know me so well, Iselin.”
The elf snorted. “Take the job, Vitus. Pay your debt to the Imperial collectors then go on to have whatever life it is you want.” She replied quietly. “I just hope…whatever life that is…you find yourself happy with who you are in the end.”
Vitus shook his head and took the papers. “Parties. Gold. Women. Give me those three things and I’ll find myself pretty happy with life.” He shoved the papers into his pocket. “But I’ll play the game for now.” He started for his home once more. “Come on, Cat.” He hollered over his shoulder.
The blue Khajiit shared a parting glance with Iselin. He nobly bowed his head, extending his arm out in the fashion of a gentleman. “Thank you for your kindness today, Lady Harbinger.”
The Bosmer’s face softened. She returned the gesture with a slight dip of her head. “Just Iselin, Inigo. A Harbinger is no one’s master.” She assured him then followed Vitus’ parting form. “Watch him. If you are able. Keep him on a good path.”