Chapter 27:

The Big City

The Elder Scrolls Series is property of Bethesda. Familiar of Zero is (currently) property of Media Factory (I believe)

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

"Powerful (Dragon/Daedra/etc.) speech"

"DOVAHZUL"

/+/+/+/+/

"That," Derflinger whistled, "is a big city."

Louise allowed herself a small smile as they overlooked the capital. The academy may have…received some blows to its reputation, but the Crown City was still the crown jewel of the country. A large, pristine metropolis that spoke well of the Tristain's wealth and power.

"Where's your uncle's tavern?" Master Johan asked Siesta. The latter didn't look that impressed by the metropolis before them, but then, she'd visited at least once before. The former, on the other hand, was utterly stone-faced, bored, even. If not for his otherworldly origins, Louise would have felt offended on behalf of her country.

Siesta frowned, tapping her cheek, "Erm…somewhere in the middle of the city. I couldn't draw you a map," she admitted, "but if we enter from the northern gates it's practically a straight shot."

"And you're sure he'll be able to give us room for a day or two?"

"I don't see why not," the Commoner said with a shrug.

"Very well." Master Johan sent them both a side-eyed glance. "You've both got your weapons?"

Louise rolled her eyes, "Master, I don't think we need to worry about getting into any trouble."

"Didn't think we'd run into anything while visiting the Siesta's family graveyard," Derflinger drawled from her master's hip. Louise winced at the memory but couldn't help but concede his point.

"You've both got your daggers?" The two young women nodded, Louise reaching down to fiddle with the weapon on her hip. "Siesta, you've got your club?" Her friend nodded, moving her cloak aside to reveal the plain—well, not really. It looked very well-made—wooden club Master Johan had given her. She pursed her lips.

"Mister Johan," she said, "I understand that you want us to be safe, but really, how much trouble—"

"Do you want me to list my anecdotes in chronological or alphabetical order?" Siesta huffed at the interruption but kept quiet.

"I actually wouldn't mind hearing one or two," Derflinger chirped.

"Please don't," Louise pleaded.

"Well," her master grinned wistfully, "I did get into a number of bar fights."

"Why, you're such an agreeable fellow?" Louise could have throttled Derflinger if she wouldn't have lost her fingers in the process.

"Well, the first time I was getting this one pushy bard to leave a widow and her daughter alone." Louise blinked; that was a just cause if she'd ever heard of one. "The second time, which happened maybe an hour after the first, I was drunk and got into a fistfight with a woman, Uthgerd, who said she could best anyone, man or woman ,who crossed her path."

Louise gasped, unsure whether to be more mortified over the fact that he struck a woman, or that he got into a drunken brawl so soon after performing a noble deed.

"…Did you win?" the young mage whirled around to stare wide-eyed at Siesta, who at least had the decency to blush.

"Yes, sort of." He looked down at his feet, scratching his beard. "Mine and Uthgerd's relationship was…odd, to say the least." Louise blinked, peering closer at what might have been a blush hidden behind his beard. "Anyway, bar brawls are the best-case scenario. Worst case…" he trailed off into mumbling something about 'Daedra' and forestalling any further attempt at conversation.

"…Shall we?" Siesta said, grinning awkwardly and sweeping her arm towards the city.

"Let's," Master Johan quickly replied, leading the way down.

/+/+/+/+/

They used the main entrance into the city, blending in with the not unseizable throes of citizens entering and exiting the capital. As they were walking, Derflinger grunted from Master Johan's hip. "You see that, Boss?"

"Indeed," the old mage hummed.

"See what?" Siesta asked. Louise opted for silence, instead trying to follow her master's gaze. All she saw were some guards milling about. Granted, they all had their hands on their weapons—spears, bows and arrows, swords and such bladed weapons—but she didn't see a problem with that.

"The guards," Master Johan whispered, "they're on edge".

Louise blinked, sharing a skeptical look with Siesta. "And how do you know that?"

"Look at their placements," he told them. "See how they're positioned? At least two at each entrance leading up to the walls, five archers—that we can see—on either side of the gate, staring down at us. And look!" He directed their eyes to a pair of guards whispering to one another, a sheet of paper passing between them, "That's got to be a list of people that bear a closer watch."

Louise gulped, "W-Why would they—" she paused, not completing the stupid question. The rogue that robbed the Academy was still at large, of course they would practice greater vigilance.

"Will it be a problem?" Siesta asked, eyes darting nervously between the various guards.

"Not likely," her master said. "Just be careful to not to anything that might set them off." Louise hadn't planned on performing any illegal activities anyway, so that wasn't really an issue. Although, Johan, with his giant stature, immaculate beard, and overall imposing bearing might have counted as someone that bore a closer watch. Thankfully, they were not stopped by any guards they passed, nor did Master Johan comment that they were being followed or closely observed.

After that it was, as Siesta said, more-or-less a straight shot. While Louise would have liked the opportunity to explore the capital—a place she'd last visited when she was a child—it was for the best that they meet up with Siesta's uncle as soon as possible. That being said, there was still a variety of things that caught her attention. Every fifth building was some sort of shop—be it an apothecary, florist, bakery, armory, and so on. It was a boutique that really caught her attention.

She didn't really pay attention to the latest fashion while at the Academy (she was supplied with more than enough uniforms and formal events were reserved for upper classmen), but at home she and Cattleya would discuss the latest trends. While Louise never had the…figure…necessary for the majority of the latest dresses, Cattleya certainly did. It was fun, like playing with a large, ticklish doll. Éléonore would join them sometimes, when she wasn't busy ignoring or admonishing Louise's existence.

There was an elegant dress on display behind the window. It was backless, blue, and with soft, white swirls stitched into the bodice. The skirt lacked the swirls, but it shimmered, like the sea at sunset. Unbidden, Louise imagined her sister in the dress. Perhaps for another potential betrothal (rare as those had become) or some formal function. The rest of the family would probably wear clothing of similar shades—except for Father, he preferred his red and black military regalia for public events. Mother would choose something much sparser though, lacking the elegant additions but still being striking in its simplicity. Éléonore's dress would be a lighter shade of blue—closer to the sky than the sea—maintain the same patterns and lose the shimmer on the skirt. And Louise, she would wear an exact copy of Cattleya's dress. Fool herself into thinking that she could grow into someone as grand as her.

"Louise?"

The young mage jolted, tearing herself away from the dress and her thoughts to find the concerned stares of her master and friend.

"What?" she said, wincing at the quiver in her voice. As they continued to stare at her, she added, "I'm fine, I'm fine." Before she could break, she shouldered past them, "It's down this way, right?" Siesta muttered something beneath her breathe, but to Louise's eternal thanks, didn't press the matter further.

/+/+/+/+/

"I'm sorry, but Scarron and Jessica have stepped out for the moment," the young woman behind the bar—Karen—said with a soft frown.

Siesta clicked her tongue, she'd thought it was possible, hoped against it. "Do you have any idea when they'll be back?"

"No idea," the woman shrugged, "our local baker has dropped a bit in quality, so Scarron wanted to scout out other locations in case that keeps up. Jessica left with him to grab some other things as well—I think she said something about new rugs. But I can grab you some food or a book you a night."

Siesta shook her head, "I'm not here for either of those—well, maybe the second. But I'm really here to give Scarron a letter. He's my uncle—"

"Oh," Karen's eye's widened, "you're that Siesta. I thought your name sounded familiar." Another shrug, "In any case, you can wait here for them, or try your luck and find them out and about."

Siesta hummed, "Any idea where they are?"

Karen tapped her cheek, "Well, Scarron said that he wanted to check out the bakeries in the southern district. Assuming Jessica is only looking for rugs, then they'll be in the eastern district."

"At least they aren't in opposite directions," Louise murmured. Her lips quirked up when Master Johan let out a huff of laughter.

"Thank you," Siesta nodded, stepping back and leading them away from the front desk. They came to a stop near the fireplace. Siesta bit her lip, "Now what?"

"We stay here and wait?" Louise suggested.

"Hmm," her master hummed. "That's certainly an option, but a rather boring one, no? I can think of something a bit more fun." Louise blanched—she and her master had very different definitions of fun (outside of magical study, at least). Which is when she was surprised when he snapped his fingers, and two small, leather sacks fell into his hands from the ether. "Here you are!" he said with a wide grin, tossing the sacks at them "five-hundred écu for each of you."

Louise blinked, barely catching the stiffed coin purse, "Wha—"

"Well, I don't think you'd want me following you everywhere while you make your purchases. Do you?"

Louise narrowed her eyes, "I thought you said the city was dangerous?"

"It can be," he admitted, "but so long as you keep together, stick to the main streets, avoid alleys, and return here before sundown, I've no doubt you'll be safe."

Louise bit her lip, turning to Siesta to get her opinion on his assessment. Only to find her friend staring unblinking at her gifted money. Belatedly, Louise realized that this was probably the greatest amount of money Siesta had ever held at once.

Suddenly, Siesta snapped her head up, "I-I can't accept this!"

"Sure you can!" Master Johan heartily replied.

"What's wrong with a little spending money?" Derflinger asked.

Siesta shook her head, "It's too much!"

"You could always send whatever you don't use to your family," Louise spoke up.

Siesta's brow furrowed, considering the idea. "I suppose…"

"Great!" He bent down, clapping both their shoulders, "I plan on visiting the southern district, in case you want to find me before sundown. And remember, if you feel uneasy or unsafe," he raised his right hand, shaking his bracelet, "three circles and I'll come running." He rose to his full height, inclining his head, "Stay safe."

"And have fun!" Derflinger chirped from his hip as the pair walked away.

Louise watched them leave, pursing her lips. She looked down at the money in her hands, tossing it lightly—it was quite a lot, she had to admit. Not even her parents could afford to just throw around one thousand écu like it was nothing. Suddenly, a thought came to life; where did Master Johan get one thousand écu? He literally just showed up in the middle of Tristain weeks ago, he couldn't have had any one hand. She blanched; could he have used Tamriellic magic to create fake currency? Only for a quick look at the money to reveal that, no, it was real. So then…She shrugged off the question; she could always ask him later.

Turning to Siesta, she let out an exasperated huff at the sight of her friend still staring at the money in her hands. She slapped her hands up, making the coin purse jump and forcing a surprised gasp out of Siesta. "Stop that," Louise said, "you're going to burn a hole in the bag."

Siesta just shook her head, "Louise, this is way too much money. What am I supposed to do with all this?!"

"Buy something? Multiple somethings."

"I can't spend this," Siesta whined, "I don't know how!"

Louise blinked, looking askance, "Are…are you being literal?"

"No," Siesta grumbled, blushing lightly, "I just mean that I don't know what to buy. Anything I ever bought for myself wasn't more than maybe 12 écu."

Louise sniffed, "Well, we're going to have to fix that." She secured her purse on her person, grabbing Siesta's left hand. "Let's go," she said, pulling her friend forward.

"Wha—Louise, wait! Louise!"

/+/+/+/+/

"I feel ridiculous," Siesta groaned.

"Nonsense," Louise sternly replied. "Here, try this one."

Siesta sighed, swapping out her blue beret for a blue beret—or cobalt-blue for azure-blue, according to Louise. "I don't even like hats," the Commoner groused.

"You haven't liked hats so far," Louise intoned, trying out her own pieces of headwear—all (apparently) various shades of green. "Ok, forget yourself, how do I look?"

Siesta cocked a brow, "You look…nice."

Louise nodded, swapping hats. "And now?"

"…Still nice?" At her friend's stony frown, Siesta held her hands up, "I don't know! You always look nice, how's a hat going to change that?"

Louise flushed lightly, "Well…you should always strive to look better."

"I think we're fine as we are," Siesta muttered.

"Fine," Louise lightly mocked, "does not exist within a Noble's vocabulary."

Siesta rolled her eyes, "No wonder you're all so high-strung." She then froze; she and Louise may be getting along swimmingly, but that didn't mean she could just say whatever she wanted.

Thankfully, her friend chuckled sheepishly, "It can get pretty bad. Men have it easier, though. Just show up in black or military garb—anything more and people start thinking you're trying too hard. Women though," she pouted, "we all have to coordinate with each other, with varying degrees of showing off for the event in question. Typically, the matriarch or eldest daughter is the more glamorous. Maybe the second, depending on the event." Louise wilted, "The third daughter doesn't really get too much attention."

Siesta frowned, once again angry on behalf of her friend, but unable to think of anything to say. Instead, she changed to subject. She took the beret off her head, "You know, I might not be all that fond of hats, but I could use some different cloaks."

Louise's mood lifted, "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "Nothing against Master Johan, but I could use something that isn't brown, black, or gray." She sniffed, "I'd like to get some better-looking clothes, but I can't imagine they'd be easy to clean."

"As someone who used to make a living cleaning 'better-looking' clothes," Siesta said, "I can say that no, they are not." She rolled her eyes, "Heavens forbid you don't iron out every single wrinkle."

Louise gulped, averting her gaze, "Were you, uh, heavily punished?"

Siesta shook her head, "No—just get your pay docked for the week. Annoying, but nothing too harsh." She shrugged, "It was part of our job, after all."

"I suppose…" Louise trailed off. She then perked up, "Ah! There are the cloaks!" Siesta smiled, letting Louise drag her over to another area of the shop.

/+/+/+/+/

"I wish Master Johan would teach me that storage spell," Louise complained as they walked along the main street, bags in each arm.

Siesta hummed, "Why hasn't he yet?"

The young mage shrugged, "Something about the first stage of the spell being linked to physical capability." She looked down at her body with a frown, "I'm a little lacking on that front, I'll admit."

"Eh," Siesta shrugged, "I'm sure you'll work through it." And she would, Siesta knew. Louise was smart, and perhaps more importantly, stubborn. So long as she wasn't thinking about her worthless family, at least.

Siesta banished the thought away—she hadn't even met the people yet. Turning to brighter thoughts, she asked Louise, "How much more do you think Mister Johan can teach you anyway, Louise?" Siesta waited for an answer, and when none came, a tremor ran through her heart. "Louise?"

Thankfully, they had not been separated. Louise was just staring at a building across the street. A gaudy thing, covered in gold paint with the words, 'The Founder's Treasure' emblazoned on the side of it. A casino or other sort of gambling den, Siesta realized.

She cocked a brow at Louise, gently pushing her shoulder, "First time seeing a casino?"

Louise nodded slowly, "I've heard about them…the village near my family home wanted to put one up a few years back."

"Why didn't they?"

The young mage shrugged, not taking her eyes off the building, "Something about property lines—my parents didn't care for it, so it wasn't really discussed at home. Only heard smatterings of conversations from the servants."

Siesta hummed, "…You want to head inside, don't you?"

Louise winced, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes," Siesta giggled. "But I don't think that'd be a good idea right now."

"Why not?" Siesta sent her friend a flat look, holding up the bags in her arms. Louise rolled her eyes, "Surely they've got people to watch over a patron's items."

"Even if they do, there's no guarantee you'll leave with them."

"What?" Louise gasped, whirling around, "Are you saying they steal from you?"

"Not…in the way you're thinking," Siesta said slowly. At Louise's confused stare, she rolled her eyes, "I'll tell you on the way back to Uncle Scarron's inn." Louise nodded, eagerly keeping step as Siesta explained (what she knew) of how casinos operated.

/+/+/+/+/

"This is disappointing," Johan grunted as he ambled through another dark alleyway, coming out safely on the other side.

"Remind me again why you want to get robbed," Derflinger drawled from his hip.

"First of all, I don't get robbed." He smirked at his friend's huff of laughter. "Second, I'm not trying to get robbed, I'm trying to find thief marks."

"And what are those?"

"Symbols that thief guilds use to denote whether shops or homes are worth robbing or are safehouses. Granted, I'd have no idea what those symbols would mean, but eventually I'll get lucky."

"…Thieves have guilds?"

"The smart ones."

"We're talking an actual guild, right? Join up for protection and training and go out on jobs for pay?"

"And whatever else you can pilfer," Johan smirked.

"That's…okay, well I learned something new today."

"Why stop at just one thing?" Johan teased, "Matter of fact, a thieves' guild will—oh!" he stopped himself.

"What?"

"I just saw a child dart into that alley up ahead."

"And this concerns us how?"

"They haven't left. Notice the tip of a boot poking just out the wall?"

Derflinger groaned in disgust, "These 'guilds' employ children?"

At that, Johan frowned. "Er, technically. In my experience they're more like walking talking pets that encourage you to work harder."

"To provide for them?"

"To convince yourself that weren't in such squalor yourself at some point in your life," Johan replied. He snorted snidely, "Thieves are, above all else, delusional."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Oh, most definitely. Speaking of…" quick as a whip, Johan darted his arm out, grabbing the would-be purse-snatcher's tiny arm as it reached for his robe. "Word to the wise, child, don't go for people in robes. They're far more aware then you might—you're not a thief," Johan frowned at the child before him.

"Obviously," Derflinger muttered.

Johan ignored the comment, pulling the child back when he tried to squirm away. This boy…was remarkably well-dressed. Rather, his clothes were plain and well-worn, but they weren't the rags of an urchin; they were relatively clean, and Johan could see where some stitches had been redone. Of course, clothes didn't make the man—or in this case, child—but he'd been around his fair share of blocks.

Some people liked to separate thieves into two categories—those that stole for pleasure, and those that stole out of desperation. Johan didn't classify the latter as a 'thief'. Outside of whatever desperate circumstances forced their hands, the desperate would not steal from their fellow man. Never felt the need to take what wasn't theirs. And this boy before him…he could see it in his eyes. He was desperate, not greedy

Johan grunted, "I'm not going to turn you in to the authorities. But," The boy stiffened, "when I release your arm, I'd like you to stay, and tell me why you tried to steal from me." The boy licked his lips, nodding slowly. Carefully, Johan relaxed his grip, and when the child didn't try to run, stepped back. "Now, speak."

The boy wrung his hands together, "I need money to buy food."

"I gathered," Johan nodded. "Why do you need to steal money for food." The boy looked away, prompting Johan to crouch, softly saying, "I promise, I shall not judge you for your circumstances."

"…We're refugees," the boy hurriedly said.

Johan gasped, "Tristain is at war?"

Only for his fears to die as the boy shook his head, "No. Our village is south of here, near the Gallian border, next to this giant lake."

"Then, why have you left your homes?"

The boy frowned, "A spirit lives in the lake—Nobles like to make deals with it, apparently. All of a sudden, the lake starts flooding. At first, we thought it was just from the rain. But then the waters kept rising, and rising, and rising."

"So, this spirit is artificially flooding the lake," Johan concluded, earning a nod from the boy. "Any idea why?"

"Not a clue," the boy shook his head. "Won't even talk to us Commoners, and none of the Nobles would tell us anything." He chuckled, "Ma says they're as clueless as the rest of us but are too stupid to admit it."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Johan chuckled as well. He then asked, "Is it just you and your mother?"

"No, Sir. I've got two sisters—babies—and my Pa. Pa managed to get himself a job at a warehouse when we moved here but," he looked down, hugging his arms to his chest, "it's not enough for all of us."

"I'd imagine not," Johan sympathized. He looked around, and upon seeing no one nearby enough to see them, reached into his robes and summoned an empty coin purse into his hands. He placed thirty écu in the purse and held it out for the boy to grab. "Give this to your parents, they'll know what to do with it."

The boy stared wide-eyed at the purse, gingerly reaching out and holding it in his hands. "Why—"

"Because I know a thing or two about scrounging for money." He rose to his full height, nodding at the boy, "Hurry home—stick to the main streets—and stop your thievery. Not everyone will be as forgiving as I."

The boy nodded, smiling shakily, "Thank you, mister!" he cried, hurrying down the main street and out of sight.

"Aw," Derflinger cooed as the child disappeared, "that was nice."

"Hm," Johan shrugged noncommittally. "I'm changing tracks," he said, "keep an ear out for anymore talk about this lake spirit."

"What about Scarron?"

"We know where he's going to be," Johan replied. "But this…this is interesting."

"You're the boss, Boss."

/+/+/+/+/

"Wait, wait," Louise stopped just outside the inn, shaking her head, "I'm still confused. How can the 'House' always win?"

"Because you're more often to lose than win." She opened her mouth, only for Siesta to clamp her hand over it. "Look, I'm sure Mister Johan knows more about this than me. Why don't you just ask him?"

Louise rolled her eyes, forcibly removing the hand. "Don't do that," she glared with mock anger. Siesta just smirked, leading the way inside. Louise followed, grumbling beneath her breath.

"SIESTA!" a high-pitched voice shrieked. The two young women turned, Louise not quite able to hold back the yelp that burst past her lips as a muscular man with dark hair, dark eyes, large pink lips, and a very short sleeveless shirt and and even shorter pair of shorts bound forward. Louise all but dove to the side as the man scooped Siesta up in a bone-crushing hug, twirling around. "Oh! When my lovely Karen told me that my darling niece had come to visit, I nearly fainted from sheer joy!"

Siesta, instead of doing the sane thing like fight for freedom, shrieked joyously as well. "Uncle Scarron!" she cried, wrapping her arms around the man's neck. "It's been so long!"

"Too long dear! Mwah!" He planted a loud, wet kiss on Siesta's cheek. Siesta reciprocated the gesture. Then, Scarron stopped spinning, and Louise took a step back as his eyes landed on her. He gasped dramatically, eyes shining, "And who is this vision of beauty?"

Despite herself, Louise blushed. She cleared her throat, "My name is Louise Fr—"

"Louise!" the man screeched, gracefully dropping Siesta and scooping the young mage up faster than she could blink, twirling in place. "Oh, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl!"

Though happy for the compliment, Louise scowled, slapping the large man's arms. "Unhand me!" she cried. Alas, Scarron either didn't or wouldn't hear her.

"Well, this looks fun," her master's voice cut through Scarron's jubilations.

Suddenly, Louise was dropped to the ground. She stumbled a bit, dizzily watching as Scarron pranced over to Master Johan. "Oh, do forgive me good sir, I did not see you come in! How might me and my darling fairies assist you today?"

"Actually," her master replied, "I'm travelling with your niece and the young woman you were just twirling around."

"Oh?" Louise blinked; something changed in Scarron just then. His body tensed, eyes losing a bit of their shine, tone growing a touch sharper.

Her master obviously noted the same changes, because he jerked his head forward, saying, "I don't believe this is something to discuss amid all your patrons." Louise looked behind her to see a dozen or so people looking at them curiously over their drinks.

"Ah!" Scarron gasped, turning around with a flourish and adopting the same mannerisms as before. "My deepest apologies to all my wonderous guests! But I am so filled with joy that I cannot help but express it. In fact, the next round of drinks is on the house!" A raucous cry erupted within the building, and people quickly returned to their business.

Scarron looked over his shoulder, "Let's take this to the back room, hm?" and skipped ahead.

To Louise's left, a soft feminine voice sighed, "And he wonders why we have money troubles."

Louise heard Siesta gasped and turned to see her friend's face light up. Siesta turned around, revealing the owner of the new voice. A pretty young woman that bared some resemblance to Siesta. "Jessica!" Siesta cried, rushing forward and sweeping the girl into a hug. "It's been so long!"

"Too long!" Jessica giggled, leaning into the embrace. She then frowned, pulling back, "Wait a—is that leather?" She squeezed Siesta's arms, "And…muscles?"

"It's a long story," Siesta replied. She then pulled Jessica forward, "C'mon, I'm sure between me, Louise, and Mister Johan you'll hear about it with Uncle Scarron."

"You better," Jessica huffed, a smile playing on her lips. And the pair continued on.

Louise frowned as they left, something familiar and dark worming its way into her heart.

"Those two," Derflinger suddenly said, "are from her mother's side of the family? Cause they look a lot like—"

Her master grunted, "If Rowley's features were so uncommon, I doubt he would have been able to hide his true origins so well."

Louise pushed aside her previous feeling, nodding her head. "Germanian's do have darker features. But that also includes complexion, more often than not," she added thoughtfully. "But I think the most alien feature is the fact that Rowley's features are still so prominent after three successive generations."

"Genealogy's weird," Master Johan huffed. He then gently pat her shoulders, "C'mon, we've things to discuss."

/+/+/+/+/

A/N: Did you know that in the world of FoZ capes are a sign of nobility? I didn't. Be sure to leave a review. Later.