#also its very funny to me how andalmo is the one who gripes about being hunted down by the thalmor more than sotha

[markynaz]

12, 16, and 23 for sotha and andalmo!!!

there's six lil segments so i'm putting them under a cut tysm for the brain food ily <3

timeline: sometime after the end of the war (tm) while sotha and andalmo are separated

12 - If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (on vacation or permanently!)

Andalmo gives a soft snort at the question, rare amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve always been curious about the College of Sapiarchs,” he admits. “The Mage’s Guild often discounts Illusion as more of a trick for noble sycophants than a useful school. Most of the complicated spells I know are self-taught.”

His amusement is soon explained, as he raises a finger to trace the tear-track tattoos curving from the outer corners of his eyes all the way down to his jaw.

“Of course, a lone ex-Blade using illusion to get into the den of his enemies to study illusion would be… Ha. No. But it was a hypothetical.”

“Well.” Sotha idly twirls her wrapped stick of writing charcoal between her fingers, journal open on her lap. “I think… hmm. The one time I traveled to Morrowind with Alma, the only part of the trip I liked was when we took a few days and went up to Sheogorad. It was nice. Quiet. I think if I were to go anywhere permanently…”

Before finishing the thought, she glances out of the corner of her eye at you and laughs somewhat self-consciously, brushing charcoal smudges from her fingers.

“But I’d probably get bored quickly, staying in a place like that.”

16 - Describe your perfect day.

Sotha translates a few more lines of the cipher she’s copying down into her journal, humming as she thinks. “I like days when things get finished up, and by bedtime, you’re in a better spot than you were waking up. Reconnaissance days where you actually learn useful information are nice, or preparation days where you can sit back in the evening and look at all the work you’ve done.”

Absolute flatness marks Andalmo’s voice. “I’d like to wake up at a reasonable time, not spend the day worrying about anyone with a black robe and a god complex hunting me for sport, have no cause to go crawling through sewers or delving anywhere creepy and dangerous, and maybe even have a few hours to keep working on that translation spell I’ve been trying to make time for since Sun’s Height.”

At your reaction, his tone lightens into dark amusement. “Look, the standards have been lowered to below sea level by the past few years. Give me a couple weeks of peace and I might start having more ideas.”

23 - Have you ever had a crush on someone? Do you have a crush now?

Andalmo blinks, one sardonic brow raising.

“Everyone has crushes,” he says, a cross between dismissiveness and irritation. “That sounds like a question you’re going to have to do something to get me to answer though.”

The requisite wild goose chase favor - or the more direct (and possibly more fun) option, getting him deadass drunk - yields a much more productive answer.

“There’s is one woman. She saved me from execution almost when we first met, so it’s not like I had to look far for a reason to be loyal to her at the start. We stuck together for a long time after that, though. Long enough that by the time she got promoted above me during the Great War, it didn’t change anything between us. Eventually I think she forgot what she did for me at the start, but I never did.”

He sighs, staring at his hands.

“It’s messy. I don’t know that I’d call it a crush, but… you know, I don’t think I’d tell anyone else to flee in the face of certain death while I stayed behind to hold it off. I hope she made it out alive. There’s no way to know without putting her in more danger - if she still lives.”

Sotha grimaces, her nose scrunching.

“I’ve never really gone in for the whole crush thing, honestly. There are usually more important things to be doing- oh, dear, I sound like my mother.” That wrings a reluctant little snicker out of her. “No, really. I’ll admire people, sure, but I don’t really get the whole storybook butterflies experience. If I had to pick one person…”

The thoughtful pause, and then the smile that curls the corners of her mouth, gives somewhat of a lie to her declaration that she doesn’t do love. But then her face just- falls. Almost crumples, but there’s too much self control for that, so the fall back into neutrality and the return of her furrowed brow really says it all.

“Well, if I had to pick one person, he died trying to save my life,” she says flatly. “Which I guess is a fitting end for any storybook romance.”