Chapter Text
The copper-skinned Bosmer stretched out for his next handhold in the sheer rock face, grunting with his cloth-wrapped fingers wiggling. The squirrel perched atop his head chittered nervously at each unsteady attempt he made when reaching upward. Eventually, a handhold passed the brown-furred rodent's approval and he was able to haul himself higher.
"We're almost to the top, Squeeck. And, you thought this would be a bad idea."
The squirrel was quiet, clinging tightly to one of his antler-like horns that protruded from his forehead and swept back over his mess of auburn hair.
Aemar glanced up and saw what Squeeck was worried about: he'd have to jump for the next handhold, his less-than-average-height rearing its ugly head again. "No problem. We've dealt with worse," he tried to assure the squirrel.
Squeeck wasn't as sure and her bushy tail brushed by his pointed ear more than once in its twitching.
Well, he's come too far to turn around now… His sinewy legs tensed for a moment before he threw himself up the grey cliff wall.
Feet and hands scrambled for purchase among the rough stone and scraggly roots, but he managed to find something that didn't crumble away under his weight. He sighed out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and Squeeck was similarly relieved. "See? No prob-" His words were suddenly cut off as the old root he had been hanging onto gave way in a cloud of loose gravel. "Whoa!" Panicked arms went wide, and he reached out desperate for anything that would catch him.
A tangled mass of vines proved to be his savior, his fingers catching enough of them to support his meager weight. Aemar laughed wearily, still clutching tight. "That was close."
Squeeck had hunkered low on the back of his head, her tail wrapped like a fancy scarf around his neck. He wanted to reach around and reassure her, but Aemar also didn’t want to risk losing his precarious position. Instead, he focused on climbing the rest of the way up, the vines proving to be a reliable enough rope.
With no further missteps, Aemar reached the top in fairly good time.
“Made it.” He was panting a bit, but beyond a few minor scrapes and bruises, he was no worse for wear. “And you had doubts.”
She chirped sulkily at him before ducking into the small pouch strapped across his back, her back-end poking out as she struggled to find room amid the acorns, loose coins, charcoal sticks, and a worn sketchbook. A few kicks from her hind legs and she managed to pull her entire body into its depths.
He smiled warmly and let out a small sigh. Even though he had climbed up to catch a different vantage point of the lush green valley below, he wasn’t about to risk getting bitten to try and pull out his sketching supplies. He would have to wait for Squeeck to be in a more agreeable mood, as the near-death experience hadn’t endeared her to justifying the treacherous climb up.
It was a pleasant view though, he mused as his linen-bound feet scuffed along the moss. It didn’t take long before he was bored enough to start poking around the brush for anything interesting.
Eventually, he did find something: a shrine – old and abandoned, forgotten by the world that had grown around it.
“Such a shame,” he mumbled, admiring the craftsmanship as he pulled the crawling ivy from the statue. Several spiders scurried panicked from the mass he had pulled away, each crawling to find some new crevice to hide in. “Oops, sorry.” Suddenly, he felt bad, though he did still want to see what the statue looked like underneath all the growth.
With more care, he tried again; being more mindful of the occupants he was disturbing.
****
“There we go.” It had taken some time, especially with how large it ended up being, but eventually, he managed to fully reveal the figure hidden underneath.
It was of a woman, striking in appearance, veiled in what appeared to fine fabrics and expensive jewelry. An ornate crown decorated her head, and for a moment Aemar wondered if she had been royalty.
“What do you think, Squeeck?” he asked as he rubbed dirt from his hands.
Some time during his cleaning, Squeeck had somewhat forgiven him and had climbed back to his shoulder. She groomed out a few whiskers, not giving the figure more than a quick glance, her tail tickling the back of his neck.
“Not something to eat, huh?” He reached up and gave her a quick scratch between the ears, which she leaned into appreciatively. “Hmmm.” His face scrunched up as he thought.
It’s missing something…
Aemar stepped back a few steps and held up his hands to frame the sight before him, his nose scrunching up as he tilted his head to the side to get a different angle. He took in the appearance of the woman again, of her stern expression, of the cold hard stone she had been carved out of. His hands fell away.
She’d look better with a smile.
“Do you think she’s lonely out here on her own?”
Squeeck, being still incapable of speech, offered no answer; though, she did seem to be contemplating his words with the slight tilt of her own head.
“I’d be lonely out here on my own…” He frowned once more and plopped down cross-legged. His expression shifted to something softer as he pulled out his sketchbook and charcoal.
Within minutes his hands were black, stained by charcoal as he worked to record the figure’s image onto paper. When he started sketching out the engraving carved along the statue’s base he paused. Despite how much Gramps had tried to get him to read, he still wasn’t very good at it – only able to make out the first two letters. “M. E. Mi…?” Aemar frowned again, but despite further attempts, he just couldn’t recognize the next letters. He sighed, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. Who needed the other letters anyway? With quick strokes of the charcoal stick, he had repeated the two letters. “Mimi.” His grin grew brighter as he said the name out loud, his dark, almond-shaped eyes turning back to the stone woman. “Nice to meet you, Mimi. I’m Aemar and this lovely little lady-”
Squeeck looked up briefly from the acorn she had rummaged from his pack, though the squirrel still had little interest in the woman.
“Is Squeeck. How are you this fine evening?”
The statue didn’t respond – not that he was expecting it to. Still, after how well she posed for him, it was only right to be polite.
He yawned lightly as his stomach rumbled. “Well, that’s it for today…” He snapped his sketchbook closed. “Come on, Squeeck. Gramps’ probably worried about us.”
The squirrel bounded back up to his shoulder, nattering loudly in his ear.
“Fine, fine, we’ll try to find a safer way down.” Aemar turned back once more to the statue. “See you tomorrow, Mimi.”
The Daedric Prince of Lies had more than enough shrines dedicated to her, so when one or two grew abandoned, it was merely an annoyance. But, when one of these shrines suddenly had an audience, it was more than enough to draw her fickle attention back to it.
“Do you think she’s lonely out here on her own?”
Of course not. It wasn’t like she was limited to that shrine exclusively. If anything, she had forgotten that particular one in Grahtwood even existed…
“I’d be lonely out here on my own…”
Mephala wanted to sigh. Of course, it had been one of Sheogorath’s that had found the shrine. The damned fool was talking to a squirrel. Though… The Bosmer didn’t act much like one of Sheogorath’s… She watched the mortal for several more moments; her interest steadily dwindling as he promptly sat cross-legged and pulled out a ratty-old book – its pages barely holding together. The short piece of black charcoal reignited her attention though. An artist? She supposed it could have been worse.
With a subtle gesture, she ushered her spiderlings forward to investigate his progress. Mephala was a curious creature after all, and when she was the subject of attention, it made her all the more eager for the spoils.
Only…
When one of her spiders got close enough to take a peek, her sight was cut off. Though, more like the Bosmer’s pet saw the creeping movement and promptly ate the spider. Frustratingly, the little artist remained completely oblivious to his menace of a rodent, his focus completely on the picture he was bent over as his face scrunched with concentration.
She hoped the thing would get a stomach ache…
From her limited vantage point, she watched as a smile replaced the monetary one of frustration on his young looking face. He mumbled something under his breath, the page he had been pouring over still frustratingly out of sight thanks to the Bosmer’s vermin keeping away her other eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Mimi.”
Mimi?!?! Her thoughts spluttered, and she missed the rest of what the Bosmer had been saying as he began packing up. Of all the things she has been called, Mephala has never been called something so… adorable.
“See you tomorrow, Mimi.”
Very well… She had yet to see what he had managed to draw anyway… and the distraction was proving to be mildly interesting at the very least.