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[taztaas]

taakitz 90?

Thank you so much for the prompt Seren!

I honestly can’t believe myself tho, I made an entire AU out of this.

Skyrim AU. The city is a combination of Whiterun, Windhelm and Solitude. But you don’t need to know anything about Skyrim to understand this. Sexual situations are implied, but not described in detail. If you wanna skip those, skip the two paragraphs starting with “sometimes”.

#90 “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Guarding the city was a decent enough job. Mostly Kravitz dealt with pickpockets and drunken brawls. The city was a large one, largest in all the Holds and the docks brought a good amount of traffic, goods and traders. There were many guards stationed in the city, but usually the mere presence of The Raven Palace, the seat of power, was intimidating enough to keep people in line.

Kravitz spent his days patrolling around the city. Sometimes he was put on gate guarding duty which was incredibly dull, despite the steady stream of travellers passing through. People watching wasn’t really an enjoyable pastime for Kravitz. Maybe it was prideful, but he preferred being the one looked at. But as a guard, he was just a part of a faceless mass.

Most of the time, if he was feeling particularly lazy and the day was quiet, he hung around the Hammer and Tongs which was the pride of the Craftsman Corridor. Magnus and Julia Burnsides were good, hardworking people who always found time for a friendly chat. Julia was the blacksmith and Magnus worked with wood. A bit unconventional, but both were masters of their craft, if not the absolute best.

Before his current employment, Kraviz had attended the Bards College. So, some nights when he was free, he played at The Lantern. Ren, the owner of the tavern, welcomed him readily, said that music improved the mood and made the patrons purchase more mead. And if they drank enough mead, they needed to stay the night in the rooms upstairs and that meant more coin. Kravitz played mostly for the fun of it, for his love of music but the occasional request and coin were welcome. As was the attention, he liked it when people admired him or his music.

The tavern was occupied by the same familiar faces every night, but there were always new people too, staying the night while passing through or stopping by to make trade. Kravitz ignored the people most of the time, preferring to concentrate on his music, being unattainable.

But one night, there was this elf.

A high-elf entered the tavern, pulling off his hood as he did and Kravitz’s eyes migrated to the him immediately, as if by magic. He almost missed a note, recovering quickly but the elf had noticed, if the grin on his face was any indication. He was really handsome, even for an elf. Long golden hair tumbled down his back and his eyes, similarly gold in color glowed slightly, betraying his arcane blood. He was a mage.

The elf had a couple of drinks at the bar, all the while staring at Kravitz which made it difficult to concentrate. Being wanted was an exhilarating feeling.

Kravitz was pleased when the elf sauntered over to him after finishing his wine, and asked, barely above a whisper, what would it take to get a private performance. The question made Kravitz smile his nicest, most handsome smile, and a flush bloomed on the other’s cheeks in response.

“What will you give me in return?” Kravitz had whispered back, leaning in, lips brushing against a pointed ear and the grinning elf had lead him up to his room with a promise of showing him.

They kept stumbling upon each other after that, irregularly and unplanned. Always at night, mostly in the tavern but sometimes Kravitz was cornered during a nightly patrol, in the shadows of some building.

Sometimes the elf fell on the bed, all soft and pliant and pulling Kravitz down on him. He let Kravitz undo him slowly, arching and sighing against the bard’s mouth.

Sometimes he was upon Kravitz with a wild, feral grin on his beautiful face that made Kravitz’s gut twist in anticipation. He would pull Kravitz’s hair loose and push his fingers through it, nails slightly scratching against his scalp in a way that made Kravitz groan and the elf purr in delight, eyes half-lidded and sparkling with want.

The elf never told Kravitz his name. The first time he had asked, it was Justin and Kravitz knew it was fake right away. The second time it was Greg, and after hearing the third fake name Kravitz just stopped asking.

And then one day, there was going to be a hanging.

But Kravitz didn’t find out about it until he stopped by at the herbology shoppe at the marketplace. The owner, a dwarf named Merle Highchurch, was a cleric of Pan but it was widely known that he was more efficient with plants than healing. The truth serum he brewed was famously efficient.

Captain Davenport and Highchurch ceased their conversation as Kravitz stepped in, but he had always thought that there was something going on between the two so he didn’t feel alarmed.

Until he heard about the hanging.

“What?”

“You don’t know? You’d think that they’d tell you these things when you work for the palace.” Merle said, shaking his head while puttering around his shop.

“Today, around noon.” provided Davenport, “They say they caught a Red Robe.”

The Red Robes were legendary thieves and arcanists, always after the most precious of magical items. It was known that one such item, called simply The Light was in The Raven Queen’s possession. No one had ever thought that there would be a thief bold enough to try and steal it but according the legends, The Red Robes were nothing if not audacious.

“He’s not the real deal, I bet.” Merle said dismissively. Davenport stroked his impressive moustache, a thoughtful look on his face.

“But a high-elf mage? Might as well be. I heard he acted pompous enough.”

“High-elf?” Questioned Kravitz, feeling his blood turn cold in his veins.

“Yeah. Tall, blond hair, kinda pretty, supposedly. Like every frigging elf in existence.” Merle scoffed, “Caught him in the kitchens, no idea what he was doing there. But really Kravitz, shouldn’t you know these things?”

Kravitz was out of the door before the dwarf could even finish his sentence.

He ran towards the castle, towards the execution platform. There was already quite a crowd of morbidly curious onlookers gathered in front of the platform, so Kravitz couldn’t really get close. But as far as he stood, what he could see chilled his blood even further.

A familiar-looking elf standing with their hands and feet bound. Grinning proudly as they rocked on their heels, as casual as ever, as if they weren’t moments away from death. A red robe was draped over their shoulders.

“What the fuck is this?” Kravitz breathed, fists clenching on his sides.

“That, handsome, is a decoy.”

Kravitz turned around, and there in front of him, smiling smugly, was the elf he had learned to miss, and in the same instance, the sound of a large explosion came from the direction of the palace. The people around them started screaming and running around in panic. Kravitz glanced over his shoulder and saw that the elf on the stage had disappeared in the commotion.

Kravitz turned back to the mage, who pulled his hood up, and in front of Kravitz’s very eyes the dark color of his cloak bled into a bright red. A Red Robe. Just like the elf on the platform.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?” the elf laughed, “Darling, I knew you were a part of the Queen’s retinue long before I saw you wear your feathered mantle. Which is a reallook by the way, I love it.” He purred and set his hands on Kravitz’s chest, pushed them up, running his fingers on the fabric of Kravitz’s cloak, eventually ending up with his arms around Kravitz’s shoulders.

“At least tell me your name?” Kravitz said, maybe a little desperate but not feeling any shame for it as he reached out to hold the other around the waist.

“It’s Taako.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we, handsome?” Taako said with a grin, not unlike the one he wore the night they first met and then Taako was leaning in, pressing their lips together, splaying his hands over Kravitz’s back.

They kissed, long, languid and lingering with the sound of more explosions and people screaming about fire in the background, and then Taako was gone.

Kravitz took off towards the palace, brandishing his weapon, because he had a job to do.

He didn’t see Taako for a long time, but he kept hearing rumours about The Red Robes. And he had begun to notice some details. Like how Julia always wore a red ribbon in her hair while Magnus had a red scarf around his neck. How Merle Highchurch was never seen without a red sash around his waist, how Captain Davenport’s ship had a red flag on the mast every time he docked. Like even the Royal Chronicler Lucretia, had a red quill behind her ear when Kravitz saw her around the palace. The Red Robes had many friends, it seemed.

Eventually, he did meet Taako again.

Kravitz was patrolling around the Stone Quarter late at night, when he heard a familiar voice pipe up behind him.

“Oh officer! I require some assistance.”

“Let me guess, someone stole your sweetroll?” Kravitz said, turning around, a smile spreading on his face. Taako smiled back, coming easily when Kravitz pulled him into his arms. Taako hummed, pleased.  ”Something like that.”

Kravitz looked at Taako, drinking in the sight of him. He looked different, more tired, older. His hair was darker than before, almost black and cut off at his jaw clumsily, as if chopped by a knife. They leaned in simultaneously, their foreheads touching.

“Oh? Care to elaborate?” Kravitz whispered against Taako’s lips.

“Hmmm, well. I met this dashing bard at the tavern…”

“And?”

“And… he stole my heart.”

“A heinous crime.” Kravitz conceded with a grin and Taako laughed, a bit too loud for someone in hiding from the authorities. “For sure!”

“What’s the punishment for heart stealing look like?” Kravitz asked, tightening his hold on Taako, fearing that he might run off again. But Taako pressed closer willingly, eyes bright.

“You tell me, handsome. You’re the representative of the law here.”

Kravitz hummed, mock thoughtful, and leaned in to catch Taako’s lips with his own.

“Why don’t I show you?”

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