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It had been quite some time since Ysgeir had last seen the thief, Clarisa, who took care of him whenever she was in town. The other children had been playing at a distance while Ysgeir watched, waiting for them to leave, as usual. He had noticed someone new in the area who would often give the children food or money a while back, but he didn’t seem to have shown up this evening. Odd. Eventually, the other children left, still caught up in their play. How did they find the time between scrounging and begging for food and money?
Ysgeir heard soft footsteps behind him and glanced over. That was all it took for Ysgeir to recognize the Imperial. He was late. The children who had just left were only here to get the food he offered, but now they were going to miss out.
“Young man, why are you alone out on the street?” the man asked.
“There’s a lot ‘f kids on the street, sir,” Ysgeir replied, keeping his eyes on his food.
The man blinked and furrowed his brows. “And… that is why you are always out here?”
“No, that’s b’cause ‘ve got no house.”
“Oh… But where are your parents?”
“Dead, sir.”
The man dropped his shoulders with a sad frown. That explained a lot. The man had suspected as much “Oh… And you’ve no friends either?”
Ysgeir shrugged, continuing to pick bits of his bread to pop into his mouth.
“Not really, no.”
The man’s eyes lit up, but quickly hid this with a look of sympathy before Ysgeir could even glance at him.
“I am sorry,” the man uttered, after which he shook his head. “Out here alone in the cold like this… Would you… Would you like to have a home?”
This was the first thing out of the man’s mouth that made Ysgeir actually turn his head to look at him. The one who gave charity so often offering him a house?
“Wha…” The disbelief and hope was clear on Ysgeir’s face. The man had to hold back a faint smile from how adorable the boy looked right now, what with the smudges on his cheeks and the small crumbs on his lips.
“I could adopt you, you know. You could live with me.”
It was evident that this kid could hardly believe what he was hearing. The man stood up and stuck out his hand to the child. The gesture was met with a hesitant stare after which the child took his hand and slowly pulled himself up. He had the same look plastered on his face as when he first was given the offer.
He smiled at Ysgeir before leading him on ahead, in silence, through the evening. Once they got to the better part of town, Ysgeir started looking about at all the houses and the wood. Then, they finally made it to the man’s door.
“Here it is,” he declared with a small hand gesture.
Ysgeir was quiet as he gawked at what looked like a mansion to him. It was better than any shelter he’d ever had in his entire life. But… Why was this man offering this? And why to him, of all people? Why was he in the poorer part of town this time of night, far later than he would usually be seen out there? Perhaps… Perhaps he was just a good man who liked helping people.
Upon noticing Ysgeir’s pondering, the imperial let out a soft sigh of a laugh. “You needn’t decide right now. You hardly know me, after all,” he assured. “And I could take in another child, if you rather stay on the street.”
He paused and pulled the faintest smile when he saw the child’s head quickly turn so he could look at him. “You could come in for supper though, if you wish,” The man offered after this.
He waited patiently for an answer, which came in the form of Ysgeir raising his free hand to hold the man’s wrist while staring, again, at the house. The boy then turned his face and blinking up at him.
“It’s alright. you can leave after this, if you wish.” He gave the child’s hand a light squeeze and smiled kindly down at him. “So, shall you be joining me for dinner?”
Ysgeir gave a slow nod, and he soon found himself sitting by a table, softly swinging his feet, while the Imperial used the fire to prepare a simple stew.
The man put some water on the heat then turned to Ysgeir. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Eight,” was Ysgeir’s immediate reply. “I think…”
“Lost count, hm?”
“What comes after six?”
“Seven.”
“Oh…” The child looked up at the man with wide eyes. “I’m seven.”
The man looked the boy over a little. It was easier now that he was in some better light. Such pretty eyes, just as he had thought when he saw him from a distance while giving out money.
The man crinkled one brow. “And… do you have a name?”
“Yeah.”
“May I hear it?”
“Ysgeir.”
The man smiled and rested his hands on his side. “That is a strong name.”
“I am a strong boy,” Ysgeir replied.
“Hah… That you are,” the man said with a small chuckle. “Living out there like that.”
Ysgeir had his hands between his knees as he waited for the food to be ready. When it was, he stared at it. It smelled delicious. Far better than than what he’d been eating before, at any rate.
As he ate, Ysgeir wobbled from side to side on occasion in delight. Adorable. Really something that could fill the emptiness in this home.
The imperial sat quietly, watching Ysgeir eat, after he had already finished his own food. The boy’s hands were stained with dirt. He likely should have let him wash those before giving him food, but it was done now.
Once Ysgeir was done, the imperial took the dishes and placed it where he would remember to wash them the next day.
When he returned, Ysgeir had taken place by the fire, warming his dirty and damaged hands. The imperial noticed the red on his knuckles as he walked over. Expected, from a child that ran around in the cold all day and slept outside at night.
He got a cloth and wet it with some of the water he’d heated after it had lowered some in temperature, then offered it to Ysgeir. “Here. To wipe your hands and face.”
Ysgeir blinked, then carefully took the cloth and started rubbing it over his face his face, beginning with his cheeks. It was warm and felt nice, and Ysgeir smiled as he cleaned himself up. He wish he could have this all the time. He felt so clean, just from this.
“So, you want to stay here for the night?” The man asked.
Ysgeir nodded and the Imperial, once again, stuck out his hand to him. “I have an extra bedroom upstairs. You probably rather not sleep with a stranger.”
“I’m not tired yet,” Ysgeir protested.
“Really? Well, perhaps we should something for you.” The imperial gestured to the book closet. “A book, perhaps.”
“I can’t read well.”
“I’ll read it to you.”
The imperial sat down on a seat next to the bookcase, from which he pulled something out from it. He then gestured for Ysgeir to sit on his lap.
Ysgeir hesitated, but there were no other seats in this part of the room and he didn’t really want to sit on the floor. Besides, the man had been so kind. He took place in the man’s knee, then scooted up a little until he had put himself in a comfortable enough position.
“This is a story about the eight divine,” the man explained. “You might like it.”
After he put his arms around the child to hold the book in front of them both, he started telling the story. Ysgeir listened intently while he spoke, eventually letting his eyelids drop a little as his sleepiness started to get the better of him. Over time, he lay back against the imperial and fell asleep.
It was at that point that the man sloped down and stopped, put the book down, and gave the child a soft pat on the shoulder. This was going well.
——————————–
After more than a week away from where Ysgeir lived, Clarisa started to wonder how he was doing. She was sure he could care for himself as he had other times she was away, since he’d become pretty self-reliant in his years out on the street. Still, she looked forward to seeing the little scamp again.
When he wasn’t where he usually stayed, she simply assumed he’d gone out exploring or something to that effect. He was always adventurous and curious like that. After a bit, she started to worry and thought to go look for him. But she then remembered that he sometimes ran off for days, exploring the town and its surroundings. She often discouraged him from doing so, but she had not been around to do that this time.
She just had to wait some more and ready a lecture for when he got back. Yet she somehow couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened to him when she was gone.
–
Three days had passed, and she’d still seen no sign of Ysgeir near to where he slept nor where he played. She was growing increasingly concerned ad antsy, and she paced around her sleeping mat, trying to think of placed Ysgeir could have gone. Fist, she checked under the bridges and around various bodies of water, each time relieved to find nothing floating there.
Perhaps he’d been caught stealing. She’d have to check the word on the street and listen in on conversations between guards. There was nothing that could be about Ysgeir, just the usual chatter.
After that, she sneaked into the prison. The guards here weren’t above tossing children behind bars, nor were they against sending them to a crowded orphanage the next town over.
That would be the next place to check. There were many faces among the children, none of them Ysgeir. She asked some of the workers. They could hardly keep track of who was and was not there, but this boy did not sound familiar to any of them.
What a huge disappointment. Clarisa went back to asking around town. One person claimed to have spotted a young boy by the description she gave in the richer part of town, running about in the direction of the city gate.
If that idiot potato had run into the forest… Honestly, that likely would not have ended well. She needed to hurry; there was already more than enough time wasted looking in all the wrong places.
Once at the gate, however, the guard there told her that, while a kid by that description had come by, he had told him to go back. A child could not head out of the city with no supervision. To hearing this Clarisa let out a sigh of relief and thanked the guardsman before deciding to go from door to door.
Most people had not seen anything of use, but a select few did confess to seeing a child like that in the area. One person, whom had seen her and him together before, noted that he looked remarkably clean compared to how he looked when they’d last seen him with her. Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen him since.
This was beginning to sound more and more worrisome the more she heard.
——————————–
It had been a fun and rather peaceful few weeks. The child and the imperial, who had since told Ysgeir to call him Moriseus, had spent most of the time outside the city gates or inside the house.
This was a sweet and curious child, and he seemed glad with the change of clothes he had given him. Not once did he whine about anything, other than bedtimes and stories. He seemed to have started to trust and love Moriseus enough to lay in the same bed with him as he told him various stories of mighty warriors and beautiful dancers in far off lands.
Really, he should have felt bad for the child. So sad… Having lost so much that he yearned for every bit of love, affection, and attention he could get, and seemingly willing to do just about anything to keep it. But it was endearing, in a way, and it definitely made thing easier.
Moriseus was just about to fetch Ysgeir from his room to prepare for a walk in the forest. He had planned to go little further again than before, where they could spend time together in peace. He was interrupted by a knock on the door, however.
Like a gentleman, Moriseus answered as quickly as possible. Of course, the fact that he rather keep Ysgeir out of sight from prying eyes when answering the door did factor into it a great deal.
The person who had knocked seemed to be dressed for the part of a pauper, but she did not seem the sort to be asking for money. In fact, her face and body language gave away that she likely wanted something else.
“My lady?” Moriseus greeted with some puzzlement.
“Greetings, sir,” the woman said back with a small bow of the head. “Have you seen a young street child? Male, human, dark blond hair, and blue eyes?”
Moriseus blinked for a bit. “There are many children would fit that–”
“I know,” the woman interrupted. “I know… but have you seen one? Any information would help a great deal.”
It was evident that this woman meant Ysgeir, and Moriseus paused for a bit to think. The boy had told him he had no friends. Telling her would be the kind thing to do, but Moriseus had grown rather attacked to the child and was quite sure that this woman may take him away from him.
Moriseus gave a sad shake of the head. “I am sorry, but I have not. Not that I can recall, at least,” he answered. “Perhaps you should ask the guard. Or you could check the docks; I hear children sometimes end up either purposefully or accidentally stowing away on the ships there.”
Hearing this, the woman dropped her shoulders, the disappointment dripping from her features. “I see… Thank you.”
“How long have you been searching now?” Moriseus inquired with a raised finger.
“More than a week now…”
“Oh…” He pulled his arm back with a crooked frown. “I am sorry.” He made a small bow and added, “If I get any new information, I will be sure to let you know. I wish you luck on your search.”
“Thank you,” the woman uttered before turning to leave.
He waited until she had gone some distance away, a sad and sympathetic expression on his face, before closing the door and rolling his eyes.
A guardian. This would make matters far more difficult.
There was a creaking at the top of the stairs and a soft voice made its way to Moriseus’ ears. “Was.. was someone at the door?” the little voice asked, sounding almost scared.
“Hm? Oh, yes,” Moriseus replied. “No worries, sweet pea. No one trying to take you away, just someone asking for directions.”
“Oh… Are we still going to the woods?” Ysgeir asked carefully.
Moriseus smiled. “Of course we are, sweet pea.”
“Okay,” Ysgeir’s voice rang back, a little happier than before. “I’ll go change.”
Moriseus walked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at Ysgeir who was holding onto the banister at the top. “Don’t you need to wash?”
Ysgeir shook his head. “No, I’m clean.”
“Yzzi…” Moriseus shook his head. “Let us get you washed, boy.”
“But we’ll get dirty in the woods,” Ysgeir protested. “We’re going to swim too.”
Right. They were going to swim. Considering that, perhaps it was more logical to wash after returning. “Alright, we’ll wash when we get back,” he agreed, getting ready to walk up the stairs. “I’ll just help you get dressed. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Perhaps, it was time they moved to another town. With Ysgeir having connections here, but that may be difficult, although it was also more needed for that exact reason. Ah, he was so precious. Moriseus had to have him to himself, and have him he would, no matter what the cost.
–
It had been taken care of. Moriseus had a job to do in Winterhold and he had arranged for a carriage to take both him and Ysgeir away.
On their way to the carriage, Ysgeir looked about, his face with both doubt and curiosity written all over it. Moriseus had explained that he had work and that this was why they were going. Winterhold seemed a long way away from this place though, the only place he had known his entire life.
“Why do I have to go too?” Ysgeir asked softly.
“Who else would take care of you while I am gone?” Moriseus questioned in return. “An adult does not leave a child to care for himself for so long if he loves him.”
Ysgeir lowered his eyes in admittance. He’d already taken care of himself far longer than he’d liked. Even then, he had help. It was the only person he knew well enough until Moriseus took him in. But she had left him. An adult who left a child alone like that did not love the child. Moriseus told him that.
Moriseus took his hand and lead him to the carriage where Ysgeir’s head suddenly popped up. “I forgot something,” he stated.
“W-what?” Moriseus asked abruptly turning his head to face Ysgeir.
“Someone.” Even if she did not love him, Ysgeir did feel the need to say goodbye to Clarisa. After all, she had kept him alive for so long.
Moriseus’ eyes suddenly went cold as Ysgeir tugged at his hand. “You told me you had no friends. Is this…”
“No. No friend, but–”
Moriseus tightened his grip on Ysgeir’s hand, accidentally causing him to let out a pained yelp.
The sound only slightly surprised the Imperial, who quickly let go of Ysgeir and dropped down onto his knees. “By the gods,” he gasped. “I am so sorry, sweet pea. I don’t know my own strength.” A soft sigh left his lips and he swiftly embraced Ysgeir, rubbing his back softly. “Too eager to see Winterhold again… I am sorry.”
He pulled back and cupped Ysgeir’s chin. “It will be fun, don’t worry. And we can always come back, if you wish.”
Ysgeir gave Moriseus a bit of a cautious look, then glanced down at his hand while he rubbed his knuckles a little. He then pouted lightly and gave a nod. His hand still hurt a bit, but the squeeze was just an accident. Ysgeir could forgive an accident, as long as he still took care of him.
“Is your hand alright?” Moriseus asked, gently taking his hand and giving it a concerned look.
Ysgeir nodded. “Yeah.”
“Oh, thank the gods.” Moriseus rubbed the top of Ysgeir’s hand and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles. “I am so very sorry, my boy.”