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*

"...hmmrrr..."

_ _

CLOP!

He woke up with a startle - an old habit, he'd slept in his bedroll by roads frequented by cutpurses and had developed something of a sense for approaching danger, and hence the sharp knock had him sitting up and alert as soon as he got his eyes open. He looked about, but the most interesting thing he could see were a few streaks of weak light come off cracks in the wall under the lip of the roof above him, its supporting beams running low across the loft.

CLOP!

The little door opened and a head poked inside, followed by half of a man who was obviously perched on the steps leading up into the left and had simply pushed as much of himself inside as was necessary to deliver the message.

"Morning!" the man spoke up, his voice rather deep.

"Eh...morning, sirr," Ja'Skaro rumbled tiredly, "who are?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm supposed to wake you up!" the intruder replied.

"Yes, sirr," the Khajiitt replied, "the Steward is letting this one to have a paw at keeping the horses, to see if this one got what it takes."

The voice let out a soft laugh, a snicker, really, through the nose like Nords did, something that come out sounding very strange if Ja'Skaro had tried to do it.

"Ain't no sir for you, I'm Snorri!" the shape at the doorway replied. "Come on, we better get the grub before we muck out, otherwise Agnes will be angry and won't let us come near if we stink like shit!"

Ja'Skaro's nosepad wrinkled even at the thought.

"Alright...this one will come!"

"Alright!" came the reply.

It didn't take him a long time at all, especially since he'd gone to bed in his clothes and really didn't have anything to change into, either way, which meant that he simply got out of his bedroll, put it over a bale of hay to let it dry and air overnight, and then ventured out of the hatch into the open.

The air was fresh and slightly cool still, though he could smell that it would be a small, pleasant day, with a little chance of a calm day later in the afternoon. All this he told by the scent, and he hoped that he could trust his instinct on the matter. He peered down from the little porch by the hatch and saw a broad-shouldered man walking away from the stables, head covered in a lick of red hair. For a moment he thought the man might've been a Dunmer, but the skin he saw was tanned, not dark enough for an elf.

"Hey!" he called out.

The man stopped and turned about, and he saw that it was the one who had come to wake him up. He was young, couldn't have been much older than Ja'Skaro himself, bearded with curls of the same red hair over his face that covered his head.

"What?" the man hollered.

"Where is this one supposed to come for...grub?" he questioned.

The man smirked and pushed his hands into the pockets of the loose, dark pants he wore.

"Follow me!"

Ja'Skaro hurried down the steps and caught up with the man who had continued walking down the yard.

"This one's Ja'Skaro," the Khajiitt greeted, a polite man, he was, "who are?"

"Didn't I tell you already?" the man snickered. "I'm Snorri!"

"Hello hello," replied Ja'Skaro, "good to meet!"

"Where'd you come from?" the red-haired man questioned.

Ja'Skaro began to tell how he'd left his home in Morrowind to find his fortunes, and how he'd arrived to the estate last night to ask for work and had been offered one, too, which had led to him being given a bed for the night in the loft above the stables. During his story, they approached a shed-like building with a chimney on it, that was putting out thick smoke. The simple building contained a table, around which several men were already sitting. The young Nord girl he'd seen last night in the kitchen stood by a small hearth, mixing something in an iron pot.

"Morning!" Snorri yawned broadly upon entry into the shed. "What's for grub, Agnes?"

"Whatever you get every morning," answered the girl.

"Who's you got with ya?" asked a dark-haired man who was chewing on a piece of bread.

"Was told by Holger to find this up in the rafters," Snorri explaining while pointing out the Khajiitt, "said he's gonna be looking after the horses."

The dark-haired man chuckled.

"He gonna go for yer job Snorri?" he suggested.

"Oh I think there's enough mucking for everyone," the red-haired man explained on his way to the hearth and the food it provided.

"Good way to start a day, that," spoke the blonde man Ja'Skaro had seen passing through the yard the previous day, "shoveling shit, that."

"Ye shovel it out of your mouth too often, Rigmor," the black-haired man told his fellow farmhand.

"Shall we put out a plate of milk for the cat or will he have a fat skeever instead?" the dark-haired man spoke.

"I wonder who's the one speaking shit here," chuckled Snorri.

"This one has what you have," Ja'Skaro spoke without hesitation. He wasn't that easily intimidated, not even by half a dozen somewhat sleepy, somewhat cranky Nords who were keen to test the mettle of the newcomer.

"Gruel," said Snorri as he walked past with a bowl and a piece of bread in his hands. "Hope you like. It tends to come out the other end looking the way it went in!"

The men around the table laughed, and Ja'Skaro made sure to laugh along, even if the girl Agnes didn't look too happy about this description of her cooking. He planned to compliment her at some point to make sure she wouldn't be offended. And the food wasn't even so bad, once he got a seat on the table next to a surly-looking man who sat next to Snorri, who sat by the blonde on the other end of the bench.

"Is this where we always eat?" Ja'Skaro asked after a few moments, to try and get his voice heard in the morning mutterings of the workers.

"When it's warm enough," replied the dark-haired man who'd had plenty to say before. "During the winter we eat in the kitchen but it's crowded there. It's nicer to eat out here in the open, especially during the hot months."

"This one is sure!" Ja'Skaro smiled.

"What's with that funny way you speak?" the surly man next to him asked.

Ja'Skaro's ears drooped a little, somewhat self-conscious about the fact that after a year or so in Skyrim, he still sounded very much like a stranger, he knew as much.

""This one learned from traders and sailors in Morrowind," he said, "this one isn't always sure which word to use though."

"You ain't sounding more stupid than, say someone from Riften!" snickered the dark-haired one with twinkle to his eyes.

"This one has not been to Riften," the Khajiitt replied, "but this one knows the town."

"Stinking hovel it is."

"Didn't your uncle live in Riften, Jolgeir?" someone suggested to the man, who laughed in response.

"A half-cousin, nothing more!" he replied. "More like an adopted cousin!"

"So you wish to believe..." said Rigmor, the blonde Ja'Skaro knew from before.

The banter continued to be thrown back and forth and Ja'Skaro found himself to be left alone for most part, which he didn't mind. It'd be easier to get to know them slowly, he knew, he didn't have to keep too much noise about himself. They'd got less curious about him being a foreigner in their land and he could get into friendly terms with them. He'd met enough Nords in his voyages and back home to know how they usually behaved about these things. It wasn't even like he was the only Khajiitt in all of Skyrim. He knew quite a few lived there, and even more than that, the trade caravans would often pass, with their Khajiitt traders eager to make a few Septims in this cold land.

Soon enough, Holger, the Steward, appeared at the grub shack. He'd put on some fur slacks and a thick linen shirt and had a large knife swinging on his hip from his belt. His nose had a slight shade to it, but he appeared mostly unaffected by last night's drinking. He didn't make any grand introductions to the new face in the group, but rather, began to issue commands for everyone. Ja'Skaro learned a lot about the business of the house, including which pastures were kept, what kind of work was going on at the moment, and how his own duties tied up with those of the others. He didn't receive any particulars, since Snorri was given the task of showing him 'where everything was', which the Khajiitt understood to mean that the red-haired Nord would instruct him on how to get about doing his work.

"Shovel, here," he was told once they'd returned over to the stables, "muck heap, there!"

"This one can see...and smell!" Ja'Skaro replied.

The Nord laughed.

"Come on and meet Bravora and Deval," Snorri said.

Ja'Skaro found the names novel for Skyrim horses, but considering it was the house of a Dunmer noble, it was not really surprise to him that the steeds had such names bestowed upon them. He let out a pleasurable purr once the Nord let him into the stables themselves. Bravora was a proud brown thing, smoothly pelted and with fine lines, and threw her neck and nickered when she was approached, while Deval was a stout, fuzzy creature, obviously a good working horse. Both nuzzled and nudged him curiously when he presented himself for the horses, and soon they were nibbling on oats from his palm. Ja'Skaro was aware that his workmate was looking at him curiously, while he was mucking and the Khajiitt greeted the beasts.

"Impressive!" the Nord said. "They act like they've known you forever."

"This one smells like the wind," Ja'Skaro smiled and flicked a cheerful ear, "they like that this one thinks."

"You reckon?" the Nord snickered, busy at work. "Or maybe you just smell like their home after you slept in it."

"Maybe that, too," the Khajiitt agreed.

"Let's get them out to the paddocks, let them have a little run about when we continue cleaning up this place."

The led the horses out into paddocks enclosed by wooden fences. The two horses were obviously enjoying the chance, for they immediately took onto a trot about the premises. Ja'Skaro closed the gate and watched them for a while, liking the way how the horses looked in their play.

"You ain't given Septims for daydreaming, cat-man!" a burly Nord voice told him, rough enough to shake him out of the reverie.

"This one knows," he replied calmly, to see the Nord himself be smirking and leaning onto his shovel.

"You really ain't from out of here," Snorri observed.

"This one is from Bodrum," the Khajiitt spoke up," in Morrowind, sirr."

"Never been there," said the Nord, "you like it there or not, since you decided to leave?"

"This one liked well enough, but wanted to see more," the Khajiitt smiled. "This one enjoys travelling."

"Is that one Boderoom place covered in ash like they say that everything in Morrowind is still covered in soot?"

"Naw," Ja'Skaro flicked his ears," not much ash reached that far south, and it has been so long time, anyway."

"Oh, alright."

"How of the Master of this house, sirr?" Ja'Skaro asked. "Have lived here long?"

"The Master?" Snorri mused. "Oh, ages. Got this land from one of the Septim Emperors, I hear, and they're the...cousins of some richer family from Morrowind, but have managed to keep their own fortunes steady. They're not super fancy rich like some of the Jarls of the Holds or nuftin' like that but they keep themselves well kept."

"It all looks splendid, this one thinks," Ja'Skaro smiled.

"They're not very rich I think, though," Snorri spoke quietly, as if sharing a secret, "nothing like the really rich houses anywhere. But they make do well with what they've got and never run out of coin, it seems."

"As long as they got enough to pay this one, will be happy," the Khajiitt let his tail loop about leisurely in his confidence.

"Is that so?" the Nord suggested. It sounded like a challenge, and Ja'Skaro stood up a little bit taller for that.

"This one thinks so."

"Well, in that case, me thinks we better put you through a test then!"

"Is that your Steward's orders?" Ja'Skaro questioned.

"Maybe?"

"Alright," the Khajiitt mused.

*

The day seemed to go well, or so he thought. The horses got their chance to frolic around, he managed to get himself smelling like a proper workman after mucking and getting sweaty in the warming air. Snorri even removed his shirt and worked shirtless for much of the highest noon, and Ja'Skaro followed suit. The Nord's muscled body seemed to have been shaped to be so through years of work, starting when he was a child, most likely, the Khajiitt thought admiringly when the redhead poured water over himself from a pail with a ladle to cool off. His own family in Bodrum had been in business requiring much less hardship of him and his siblings, and hence he had not developed in entirely similar manner. Ja'Skaro recognized him as a man of superior build, but he was certainly comely and friendly, which warmed his heart. It was a good thing to learn quickly that he would not have to work with a bully, a natural or otherwise so. Sometimes young men couldn't stop from trying to one-up another, even if they had kindness in their heart. Snorri seemed to be cheeky, yet fair, and talkative as well. That helped the morning hours pass, the day turning into noon, and they had supper in the shade of the grub shack, where Agnes served a broth, bread and cheese for the hungry folk demanding sustenance.

"Showed the new hand the muck pile yet?" Jolgeir nudged Snorri on the side when they were devouring meat and bread at the long table.

"Of course!" the redhead replied to his friend and comrade. "Put my hoe down and sent him flying face down. That's why he looks like he does!"

Ja'Skaro felt his ears warm up a little at the rough joke, but he suspected it was just Snorri's way of speaking things, and he didn't think too much ill of it.

"And smells too," he added, himself, to keep in the conversation.

"Heheheh!" the dark-haired roughman laughed. "I did smell you half a mile away, I bet, when I was coming for the grub!"

"Must've been," his sparring partner Rigmor added.

"Maybe this one should bathe," Ja'Skaro suggested.

"If you do, does that hair ever get dry?" Jolgeir asked.

"This no hair, this pelt!" the Khajiitt replied. "This one can always shake it dry!"

"Not when I'm nearby!" Jolgeir gestured with his hands as if he was shielding himself from water already flying through the air.

"Only when this one's bathing," the Khajiitt replied easily. "This no bath!"

"Some of you could take a word from him and do it more often, too!" said Agnes.

The men laughed and stomped the table with their cups. She seemed pleased by the attention, and Ja'Skaro felt happy about the snide remark as well. The girl might've been pale and mousy but appeared to have some fire hiding on her tongue. That pleased Ja'Skaro, who thought high of spirited women.

"Fine friends," Ja'Skaro spoke to the assorted Nords once the ruckus of Agnes' remark had quieted down, "where could this one find a few things for the stables where this one sleeps? Would need a blanket and lantern and few little things that like to make it comfortable for this one."

"Might be at the big house," Agnes said, "must ask Anja and Mette."

"Who is Mette?" Ja'Skaro asked.

"Keep your paws off her, she's mine!" said one of the farmhands, whom Ja'Skaro knew was called Hylf, and who had the habit of smoking the pipe, just like the Steward of the house.

The other men laughed.

"She's the lady's maid," Agnes said, "keeps 'er clothes and 'air done she does."

"Ah...this one didn't meet yet."

"She's a pretty little thing," Jolgeir commented, "sweet and fierce..."

"You think," said Snorri, "she don' speak to dumb men like you."

"She will!" Jolgeir boasted. "I know she likes me!"

"How'd you know that?" the redhead challenged him. "Dreamed it?"

"She waves to me sometimes when she's walking out by the fields!"

"She waves to everyone," Snorri teased.

"She fancies a lad in Solitude," said Agnes.

"Stabbed between the ribs!" Jolgeir clutched his chest. "By the Divines..."

"You know all about stabs don't ya?" Snorri smirked to the Khajiitt.

His ears drooped a little. It seemed that even his new workmate wasn't beyond making these kind of remarks that made implications about the stealthy ways of his kinsmen.

*

They worked until sun was starting to kiss the horizon, casting reddish glow over the fields that painted Ja'Skaro's pelts a vibrant shade as well.

"Think we're done for tonight," said Snorri, with whom they'd been repairing parts of the horse paddocks, some way from the manor house.

"You tell this one," the Khajitt replied. "Wasn't you told to tell this one what to do?"

"For now," the redhead said, "methinks you'll be finding your way soon enough."

"This one hopes so," Ja'Skaro said.

"Think it's a little while before Agnes has our supper ready," Snorri said, "how bout we head down to the lake and soak up before food?"

The Khajiitt rubbed his muzzle curiously.

"The big one on the other side of the big road?"

"Yeah, it's great, not too cool at this time!" said Snorri. "Won't freeze your 'angies off the moment you go under."

"'angies?" Ja'Skaro put his maw around the strange word used by his workmate.

Snorri snickered.

"Oh you know," the Nord said, "your tonkers."

"Eh..." the Khajiitt rumbled.

"Hahah, your..." Snorri patted his thigh suggestively.

"Oh!" Ja'Skaro's ears perked. "Those...yes...don't like cold..."

"So, let's go! The water ain't too cold this time around, I promise!"

"Alright," said Ja'Skaro.

They climbed up the hill on which the house sat and then scaled down it along the road, then upon the lake. The air vibrated upon it, giving off strange mirages of imaginary islands, besides the real ones that stood alone among the waters beyond.

"It takes mountain waters and they flow off to the sea down the White River," Snorri explained once they reached the shore, down across the road to Falkreath.

"It is a pretty lake, this one thinks," Ja'Skaro agreed.

Snorri located a dry, bare stone and promptly pulled off his flax shirt and dropped his loose pants upon it as well before the buck naked Nord splashed into the lake. Ja'Skaro watched him go before he proceeded to strip away his own clothing on a rock he chose for himself. It felt nice to be out of them, with only the breeze upon his pelts. It was pleasant on his whiskers, and his tail gave a joyful swing behind him.

"Come on!" called out Snorri. His head emerged from the water and he seemed to be paddling the water to stay afloat.

Ja'Skaro approached the water and stepped in up to his knees. It wasn't too cold, he found, and the bottom consisted of smooth rocks.

"This one's not the best swimmer this one thinks," the Khajiitt spoke softly. "Is the water deep?"

The Nord's torso appeared out of the lake and he showed to his companion that he was now standing on the bottom.

"It only comes this high here, and won't get very deep until a little bit further out!" he said. "So you can get at least this far from the shore safely."

"Alright...this one sees," the Khajiitt replied. He waded further onto the water and became immersed and quite soaked, though keeping his head carefully above the surface. Snorri didn't seem to have any such worries, for he make a few lazy circles, even swimming on his back for a while, staring up to the somewhat cloudy, yet peaceful sky while giving easy kicks and strokes Ja'Skaro could be envious of.

"Strange, this one thinks," he mused while he tested the water," this one has worked in docks and all but doesn't swim so good."

"You can learn!" the Nord replied across the water. "The water up there is too cold anyway me thinks, hah!"

"Very true say," Ja'Skaro said. "Freezing and with slaughterfish in it."

"Do those even taste good?"

"If you can catch them!" Ja'Skaro licked his lips, smiling, paws paddling the water, his tail floating free.

"Need a spear for that?" Snorri joked.

"Something like that!" Ja'Skaro laughed.

The redhead grinned and dived again, disappearing beneath the surface.

*

His stomach was pleasantly full and he felt ready for sleep when he climbed up to his perch. The Khajiitt slipped through the small door inside the room and was met with the scent of fresh straw and the sight of a pile of items placed upon a bale. There was a small stool, and over it there was a lantern, a wax candle, flint and a fire starting iron, a cup and a small bar of soap. Two folded blankets by it signaled a better night's sleep for him, which made him smile broadly.

"Good things!" he declared aloud. The blankets smelled a hint of lavender and felt clean when he unfolded one. it would be a pleasure to slip down over it and lay to sleep. He could wash his old bedroll and keep it for the time when he would move on, one day, and before that he could sleep in the cloths provided by the house.

He re-arranged some of the straw into what was more like a mattress and spread the blanket over it. It made a kind of a nest, really, especially once the other blanket was unfolded and he could be covered in the warm wool, below and above. Flicking a spark onto the candle and putting into the glass lantern cast a warm glow over his little room. It truly was comfortable, warm and nice, and quiet too. He'd never had a room of his own, perhaps on an in for a night, but never for him to stay in. There'd always been someone, a workmate, a sibling, a cousin, never anything for just him, even if it was a little niche above the stables. At least the horses were well-behaved and they would not keep him up all night.

He'd just curled down for a rest and let his tail coil down for a slumber when he heard a few thumps and a rap on the hatch.

"Yer awake?"

_ _

His ears perked curiously. He knew the voice but hadn't expected that.

"Yes, sirr!"

_ _

The hatch was not latched, hence, Holger was free to open it. A whiff of tobacco smoke and mead accompanied him, and his eyes seemed to have that gleam again, looking into the rafter space.

"Made yer a home 'ere?" the Steward questioned.

"Yes, sirr," the Khajiitt replied, "found all this here for this one."

"Agnes told you needed things and I had her look 'em up from the house and bring 'ere," Holger explained. "Not much but nobody has that much 'ere methinks."

"it is all very perfect, thank you, sirr!" Ja'Skaro hurried to speak. "This one's very grateful for you, sirr."

The large man shrugged.

"The coin's not much, but you get a roof and a blanket a and something to eat," he said, "that's all you can expect, yeh?"

"Yes, sirr," he replied.

The big man laughed.

"Not much fer an adventure this place though," he mused, "if ye said you left home to see Tamriel and go to places and have jolly, this really isn't the life for adventure."

"This one thinks it is good enough for this one, sirr," Ja'Skaro smiled, "this one isn't one for hunting lost treasures or looking for bandits. This one leaves blade work for others who are more...better...for that, this one thinks?"

"Bah," opined Holger, "too many going around waving blades in this Hold already methinks. More hoes and hammers, yes please!"

"True that, sirr."

"You sleep now," said the big man, "got another day tomorrow, eh?"

"Yes, sir, and thank you for all this, sirr!" the Khajiitt said.

"It's yours to keep for now," the Nord said, "sleep well!"

"Thank you, sirr!" Ja'Skaro smiled.

The Nord disappeared and left Ja'Skaro to enjoy his little abode in peace again. He sprawled happily onto the blankets and let the quietly blowing wind soothe him to sleep.