Commander Tilhi

I fight for the Thalmor. Since Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire are at peace, my primary duty is to train new recruits in basic combat skills and heavy armor. I have been sent to Skyrim by the orders of my superiors to hone the skills of the Thalmor...

[ghosthunterandpriest]

No rest for the wicked [Runwil and Lamaenor]

[commandertilhi-blog]

The slight change of air around the Inquisitor doesn’t go unnoticed by an attentive pair of amber eyes and instead of making a mental note to himself to not do that again in Lamaenor’s presence, Runwil has no intention of limiting is expressions. 

"True enough - I was not their first choice but upon hearing about the case I insisted", the frost mage smiles, breath ghosting over the brim of his glass, "this was the perfect opportunity to come and see my dearest nephew stationed here so I had to take it.” 

As he mentions his nephew, there is a brief softness to his voice which oddly contradicts the sharp features of his visage. 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Lamaenor, ever the manipulative bastard, makes a note of that soft tone. You never know when you need a hook on someone.

"Ah, your nephew?" He give a short nod, "Is he a Thalmor or a Alinor soldier?"

[commandertilhi-blog]

Seemingly happy to get to talk about his nephew, Runwil hems. 

"Yes, he is a Thalmor wizard, a Justiciar. Specialising in shock magic. I could not be more proud! He is everything his late father would have wanted, save for some quirks in his otherwise exemplary personality. Oh, but he is young; he will learn." 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

No rest for the wicked [Runwil and Lamaenor]

[commandertilhi-blog]

"Splendid, just splendid - now that I ran into you, my dear Inquisitor!" Runwil chuckles and takes a sip from his glass. "I am pleased that you are enjoying yourself, as well. As to my reason to being here, I was asked to fill in for an interrogator who, if I understood correctly, suffered a regrettable… accident. A shame, really, I used to work with the mer some decades ago and he was quite good from his mouth." 

The frost mage doesn’t deny the double meaning to that sentence and slightly smirks. A leopard cannot change its spots, after all. Runwil’s work as an interrogator involves more talking than torturing and he is almost pleased about his own clever choice of words. 

"I have not been familiarised with the case yet - I was given a rather generous amount of days to adjust to the climate and whatnot. I did arrive here a little less than a week ago." 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Lamaenor blinks unimpressedly at the slight pun, his face doesn’t change at all but there is a certain air around him that suggests that if he had been the expressive type, he would’ve made a grimace. Instead, he nods when the other mer talks,

"Ah, yes. I did hear of that one." It had been quite the scandal. And quite the accident. “I am surprised they would send for one of your caliber, I am surprised they would let you away from the Isles.”

The most important political prisoners were not kept in Skyrim but were rather transported to either Elsweyr or Alinor.

[commandertilhi-blog]

The slight change of air around the Inquisitor doesn't go unnoticed by an attentive pair of amber eyes and instead of making a mental note to himself to not do that again in Lamaenor's presence, Runwil has no intention of limiting his expressions. 

"True enough - I was not their first choice but upon hearing about the case I insisted", the frost mage smiles, breath ghosting over the brim of his glass, "this was the perfect opportunity to come and see my dearest nephew stationed here so I had to take it." 

As he mentions his nephew, there is a brief softness to his voice which oddly contradicts the sharp features of his visage. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Reunions [Runwil/Suula]

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi watches as the two meet each other again after a few years, then turns his head away. How predictable. He nods his farewell to the Justiciars who came in with him and leaves to his quarters. At least Suula had agreed to accommodate the mer Tilhi only barely can call his father - that thought is only mostly a comforting one. 

Runwil puts his hands on Suula’s shoulders, leans back slightly and takes a good look of his face, smiling widely with the corners of his eyes wrinkling.  

"How have you been, dear? I do hope this harsh, harsh land has not treated you too badly!" he pats Suula’s cheek with one hand, then coos with slightly pursed lips. "My goodness how I have missed your lovely little face~" 

[suulatar-blog]

/Suula cannot help pulling back slightly when Runwil pats his cheek. It is not like he… dislikes his uncle’s touchy-feely nature but it is a bit much after the Justiciar has spent such a long time without close relationships.

He grimaces a bit but then utters a small laugh./

I have missed you too, uncle. Don’t worry, I have fared quite well despite the climate… and the native folk./Suula looks around for Runwil’s luggage, then fixes his eyes back to the frost mage./

Um, I was actually wondering if you would like to stay at my house while on your visit? I have a guest room that you could use.

[commandertilhi-blog]

Runwil takes a deep, exaggerated breath and clasps his hand over his heart. 

"You really would have poor old me as a guest in your lovely home? Oh, dear, of course I would like to~!" 

The older mer smiles widely and hugs Suula again. 

"Well then, let me handle some business first and after that we can leave. I cannot wait to ask all kind of embarrassing questions about you from our dear old Algus", he smirks and winks at the Justiciar. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Reunions [Runwil/Suula]

Runwil is greeted by the warmth of a huge hearth on one side of the hall when he steps into the main building of the Embassy. Halfway up the hill, the wind had picked up and before they noticed they were in the middle of a snow storm.

Now even though the Interrogator is a frost mage and cold shouldn’t affect him that much, he finds himself shivering while shrugging off the snow from his shoulders. Truly, his (regrettably) unrelated nephew had not exaggerated the hideous weather of Skyrim in his letters! 

Speaking of such nephew, the Interrogator checks the hall, his emotionless face melting into a soft smile when spotting Justiciar Suula standing on the other side of the room, having obviously been waiting for him. Not even sparing a nod of farewell to his escorts, he strides towards the much younger mer. 

"Oh, my dear boy!" Runwil laughs, closing the distance between him and Suula and hugging him - although not as warmly as he would have liked to. Obviously he has some appearances to keep. 

[suulatar-blog]

/Suula is anxiously and a bit nervously waiting for Runwil to arrive, impatiently tapping his foot to the hard floor, the sound echoing in the halls. The Justiciar is wearing his Thalmor robes, with his hood down, and he keeps touching his hair and twirling strands around his finger. I got here way too early, he thinks while turning his head to stare at a wall.

It doesn’t take long till he hears footsteps and the mage fixes his posture - and not a second too early as he hears a voice greeting him and in an instant is being embraced by a tall, much older mer, his scent (still surprisingly familiar) filling his senses. Smiling to himself, Suula wraps his arms around the taller mer and momentarily presses his head against his chest, before letting go. He looks at the Interrogator and gives him a lopsided smile./

It is so good to see you, uncle.

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi watches as the two meet each other again after a few years, then turns his head away. How predictable. He nods his farewell to the Justiciars who came in with him and leaves to his quarters. At least Suula had agreed to accommodate the mer Tilhi only barely can call his father - that thought is only mostly a comforting one. 

Runwil puts his hands on Suula's shoulders, leans back slightly and takes a good look of his face, smiling widely with the corners of his eyes wrinkling.  

"How have you been, dear? I do hope this harsh, harsh land has not treated you too badly!" he pats Suula's cheek with one hand, then coos with slightly pursed lips. "My goodness how I have missed your lovely little face~" 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

No rest for the wicked [Runwil and Lamaenor]

[commandertilhi-blog]

Now, it has to be said that Runwil is not a very easily excitable mer - spontaneous, perhaps, but not excitable - yet the words Lamaenor utters make him almost giddy. Inquisitor Lamaenor, the Inquisitor Lamaenor, has acknowledged his work! Runwil cannot really believe his luck and eagerly takes the hand offered to him, his own fingers cool and slim against Lamaenor’s. He does, in fact, look him in the eyes. The whiteness of them doesn’t seem to disturb him - if anything, he is intrigued. 

"Oh, you are making me blush, Inquisitor! That is myself, indeed. I had no idea you have read my work, to be honest - I am utterly fascinated by your methods, and have kept up to date with your latest publications. You have built such unique ways to— Truly, your skills in our line of work are exceptional to say the least!” Runwil then realises that he is being rather loud and brushes a lock of hair behind his ear in order to recollect his thoughts - how odd that such simple gestures help in such things, he briefly thinks and flashes a rather endearing smile at the other mer. 

"Oh dear, I am rambling, am I not? My apologies, Inquisitor. I do hope you have enjoyed the evening this far?" 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

The other mers hands are surprisingly soft for an interrogators. They are usually more calloused, more reminicent of workers hands. A mer who cares then, who does not let his physical work bear marks on his body. When Runwil meets his gaze, head-on, he is surprised again. The mer almost gushes, and Lamaenor allows himself to feel slightly flattered. The smile the the other mer sends him is an endearing one (Lamaenor, always suspcious, always cruel, does not trust it) and he answers it with one of his own.

"I am having a fine evening." He says, almost softly, "Emissary Elenwen has done quite the work to be able to make a Nord building look this welcoming." He was not made for political games, that was his wifes domain, but he knows them well enough, "And how is your evening?" He pauses, before continuing, "I did not know you did research based in Skyrim." A subtle way too ask exactly why Runwil was here.

[commandertilhi-blog]

"Splendid, just splendid - now that I ran into you, my dear Inquisitor!" Runwil chuckles and takes a sip from his glass. "I am pleased that you are enjoying yourself, as well. As to my reason to being here, I was asked to fill in for an interrogator who, if I understood correctly, suffered a regrettable... accident. A shame, really, I used to work with the mer some decades ago and he was quite good from his mouth." 

The frost mage doesn't deny the double meaning to that sentence and slightly smirks. A leopard cannot change its spots, after all. Runwil's work as an interrogator involves more talking than torturing and he is almost pleased about his own clever choice of words. 

"I have not been familiarised with the case yet - I was given a rather generous amount of days to adjust to the climate and whatnot. I did arrive here a little less than a week ago." 

[commandertilhi-blog]

((Runwil in his fancyass party outfit))

[ghosthunterandpriest]

No rest for the wicked [Runwil and Lamaenor]

[commandertilhi-blog]

It certainly isn’t as luscious as the parties in Alinor but considering the backwater land of Skyrim, Runwil thinks the Emissary has done quite a good job with what she’s been given. 

He is shifting through the people with ease, giving a polite smile and a nod of his head whenever and to whoever it is required. The wine is good, at least, but the interrogator wouldn’t have expected anything less. It is imported, of course - Runwil has made a mental note to not touch any of the Nords’ native liquors. 

His attention is driven away from a couple of people he was observing when he hears a familiar voice calling him. He briefly grimaces as he recognises the owner of the voice - it’s Lord Serik (whom he already met at the entrance), of course it would have to be him - but disguises it behind his wine glass, taking a sip. He nods to the mer and strides to him rather gracefully with his long legs. 

"How pleasant to see you again, my lord, my lady", Runwil purrs, before he notices who the couple is with. His eyes widen just the slightest and he smiles, this time without a trace of pretend. 

"Oh my goodness, Inquisitor Lamaenor!" he exclaims, bowing his head to his elder. "Had I known you were attending… Oh dear, such an honour to finally meet you, Inquisitor~ I am overjoyed." he bows again, a smirk tugging at the sides of his mouth.

"Interrogator Runwil Sinaran, at your service." 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

Lamaenor does raise an eyebrow at the rather enthusiastic greeting, but when he hears the mers name he actually.. smiles. It’s almost real.

"Interrogator Sinaran." He says, a bit more calmly than the younger mer in front of him, "The same Sinaran that has written some excellent papers about the influence of pain on an admission of truth?" He stretches out a hand for the other to take, something he very rarely does (he prefers not to be touched, at all), "In such case, it is truly my honour.”

[commandertilhi-blog]

Now, it has to be said that Runwil is not a very easily excitable mer - spontaneous, perhaps, but not excitable - yet the words Lamaenor utters make him almost giddy. Inquisitor Lamaenor, the Inquisitor Lamaenor, has acknowledged his work! Runwil cannot really believe his luck and eagerly takes the hand offered to him, his own fingers cool and slim against Lamaenor's. He does, in fact, look him in the eyes. The whiteness of them doesn't seem to disturb him - if anything, he is intrigued. 

"Oh, you are making me blush, Inquisitor! That is myself, indeed. I had no idea you have read my work, to be honest - I am utterly fascinated by your methods, and have kept up to date with your latest publications. You have built such unique ways to-- Truly, your skills in our line of work are exceptional to say the least!" Runwil then realises that he is being rather loud and brushes a lock of hair behind his ear in order to recollect his thoughts - how odd that such simple gestures help in such things, he briefly thinks and flashes a rather endearing smile at the other mer. 

"Oh dear, I am rambling, am I not? My apologies, Inquisitor. I do hope you have enjoyed the evening this far?" 

[ghosthunterandpriest]

No rest for the wicked [Runwil and Lamaenor]

Altmers are perhaps not seen as the most festive of races, especially when viewed through the eyes of savages (Nords) or beasts (Khajit), but they do have a prediliction for large, unwieldy and incredibly lavish parties which makes you feel incredibly unimportant and incredibly self-satisfied at the same time.

The embassys main hall is decked out in fine drapes and expensive flowers, most of which has been shipped all the way from Alinor. They lend the air a sweet smell, and true to the Altmeri spirit, they made some poor servants dot each and every petal with fine gems.

Poor high-commander Elenwen does what she can, delegated as she is to this gods-forsaken country. It is a testament to her skill to say that even the most smug, unsufferable nobles find little to complain about except the weather.

It is crowded, but most are only on their first glass of wine, so the volume is still pleasant. Lamaenor, with an untouched glass of red wine in his hand, moves through the crowd, smiling pleasantly and inclining his head to those he passes. His shadows, delegated to the sidelines for the evening (they stand in the shadows of the room, their eyes following his every step with a very certain kind of fever), are not accompanying him.

"Inquisitor!" A slightly round, red-faced lord exclaims as Lamaenor nears him, "What a surprise to see you in Skyrim! Hera is not with you?"

Lamaenor inclines his head, subtly tilting his head just a tad so that the mers horrid breath does not waft towards him. Lord Serik Hypos, he hears his wifes dry tone in his head while taking the hand of the Lords tittering wife, a drunkard and a fool, but a mer with certain sway over the more liberal council members. Lamaenor smiles slightly at the mention of his wife, and when he speaks his voice is soft, “Ah, sadly not. I am here in business, my Lord, and she could not accompany me.”

"Perhaps it is for the best!" Serik says again, just a bit too loudly, the wine in his glass are dangerously close to spilling, "I doubt Alinor would hold up for long in her absence!" It is kind words, but they hold a kernel of truth. Lamaenor misses his wife. He would much preferred to have her on his arm this evening, bend his head every so slightly to listen to her harsh, unkind assessment of the others attendants, sharing hard-earned gossip and whispers with him. He smiles, a bit ruefully,

"Is that not the truth, my Lord."

Serik nods at him, carefully avoiding to look into his eyes (Lamaenor is respected, or at least respected enough, but few look into his eyes for longer than they have to, the blank and colourless appearance of them unnerving most), “Ah, but I had someone I wanted to introduce you too…” He looks around, craning his short, fat neck, brightening when he spots who he was looking for, “There he is! Runwil, my friend, over here!”

[commandertilhi-blog]

It certainly isn't as luscious as the parties in Alinor but considering the backwater land of Skyrim, Runwil thinks the Emissary has done quite a good job with what she's been given. 

He is shifting through the people with ease, giving a polite smile and a nod of his head whenever and to whoever it is required. The wine is good, at least, but the interrogator wouldn't have expected anything less. It is imported, of course - Runwil has made a mental note to not touch any of the Nords' native liquors. 

His attention is driven away from a couple of people he was observing when he hears a familiar voice calling him. He briefly grimaces as he recognises the owner of the voice - it's Lord Serik (whom he already met at the entrance), of course it would have to be him - but disguises it behind his wine glass, taking a sip. He nods to the mer and strides to him rather gracefully with his long legs. 

"How pleasant to see you again, my lord, my lady", Runwil purrs, before he notices who the couple is with. His eyes widen just the slightest and he smiles, this time without a trace of pretend. 

"Oh my goodness, Inquisitor Lamaenor!" he exclaims, bowing his head to his elder. "Had I known you were attending... Oh dear, such an honour to finally meet you, Inquisitor~ I am overjoyed." he bows again, a smirk tugging at the sides of his mouth.

"Interrogator Runwil Sinaran, at your service." 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Reunions [Runwil/Suula]

Runwil is greeted by the warmth of a huge hearth on one side of the hall when he steps into the main building of the Embassy. Halfway up the hill, the wind had picked up and before they noticed they were in the middle of a snow storm.

Now even though the Interrogator is a frost mage and cold shouldn't affect him that much, he finds himself shivering while shrugging off the snow from his shoulders. Truly, his (regrettably) unrelated nephew had not exaggerated the hideous weather of Skyrim in his letters! 

Speaking of such nephew, the Interrogator checks the hall, his emotionless face melting into a soft smile when spotting Justiciar Suula standing on the other side of the room, having obviously been waiting for him. Not even sparing a nod of farewell to his escorts, he strides towards the much younger mer. 

"Oh, my dear boy!" Runwil laughs, closing the distance between him and Suula and hugging him - although not as warmly as he would have liked to. Obviously he has some appearances to keep. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Finally in Skyrim. 

The Thalmor Interrogator steps out of the ship, walking down the makeshift bridge in his warm, fine furs. He stops at the bottom of it and wrinkles his nose after letting his gaze wander over the Solitude docks. 

"What a run-down place." 

A sailor walking past hears him and scoffs, but Runwil doesn’t pay any attention to him. Three Justiciars and a Commander are walking down the stairs, the three mages in a much more hurry than the soldier - what a proper welcoming committee, the tall mer thinks. Suddenly there’s a glimpse of red hair under the glass helmet and he wants to grimace but forces his expression to stay calm.

"In-Interrogator Runwil!" the first of the Justiciar’s greets him, slightly out of breath. "Welcome to Skyrim, sir, you have been eagerly awaited."

Runwil answers with a nod. “Justiciars.” he turns his head towards the Commander. “Commander Thiilthan.” 

One of the Justiciars shivers at the coldness of the voice as he says that name. 

The Interrogator takes those few steps between him and the Commander and hesitates for a moment, then gives an awkward pat to the other’s shoulder, a ghost of a smile on his thin lips. He then withdraws his hand quickly, as if giving such a warm greeting to his own son had burnt it. 

He turns his attention back to the Justiciars and examines the faces under the hoods. To much of his disappointment, one certain face is not among them - one that he is much more fond of than the Commander’s. 

"Well, let us not keep the carriage waiting?" Runwil says as he fixes the fluffy collar of his cape to better shield his neck from the freezing wind. The long trip was not very pleasant for an old mer like himself (or his hair) and he is eager to get to the Embassy to get refreshed. The Justiciar who talked to him bows and the group turns around to escort their guest up the stairs. 

"Right away, sir!"

[commandertilhi-blog]

"I would love to taste some of your baking sometime", Tilhi comments with a smile, "it must be on a whole different level than these." 

They sit and talk for a while, the sweetrolls disappearing into their stomachs and leaving only crumbs behind on the table. It is surprisingly pleasant to converse with the Justiciar, Tilhi notices once again - despite his scornful nature. Before they notice it has become quite late although Tilhi is not displeased. 

"Ah, I suppose you will need to head home soon", he says and gets up to gather the tea cups to take them to the kitchen counter. "I would say I am sorry to keep you here so late but it would be a lie." There’s a wider smile playing across his lips. "I am thankful for you to have kept me company tonight." 

[suulatar-blog]

/Suula has been giving subtle glances at the window during their conversations, noticing that it had been getting quite dark outside, but has not dared to say anything about it. The Commander just seemed so content talking to the Justiciar. And he wished not to be seen as rude. 

He is a little relieved when Tilhi begins to gather the dishes, but also surprised to hear that the redhead found his company that enjoyable. He does not recall anyone else ever even saying something like that to him, not really knowing how to feel about it or how to react to it. Suula returns the smile and gets up./

I um. It’s been my pleasure, thank you for your hospitality. /He walks to the rack and puts on his coat, turning towards Tilhi as he fixes his hair, tugging loose strands off his face./ Well, I wish all the best to you… and to your cats.

[commandertilhi-blog]

"All the best to you too, Justiciar", Tilhi replies, still smiling. "Good night."

The other mer leaves and closes the door behind him. Tilhi is left there alone in the kitchen - well, not alone, since the mother cat treads to him from the bedroom and stretches, then comes to sit in the Commander's feet. The redhead hems and bends down to pick her up. 

"Wasn't it nice to get some company other than me, hm?" he chuckles as he scratches the cat from behind her ear. She makes a low "urr" sound and Tilhi smiles. He will be sad when he has to give the cats away but at least he can enjoy their company for one more week. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi’s posture immediately relaxes and he actually smiles.

"That is great to hear. Thank you, Suula." 

He is incredibly glad that he won’t have to run into Runwil in the hallways or dining hall on a daily basis. 

At the Justiciar’s comment on the pastry he chuckles and picks up the other sweetroll. He takes a bite and shrugs.  

"How miserable their life here would be if even some of them could not bake?" 

[suulatar-blog]

/He returns the smile, taking a sip of his drink./ I suppose you are right. But still, I do prefer my own home-made baked goods. 

/It feels strangely good to see that he was able to make the Commander feel better. There’s a small bubbly feeling inside. Huh./

[commandertilhi-blog]

"I would love to taste some of your baking sometime", Tilhi comments with a smile, "it must be on a whole different level than these." 

They sit and talk for a while, the sweetrolls disappearing into their stomachs and leaving only crumbs behind on the table. It is surprisingly pleasant to converse with the Justiciar, Tilhi notices once again - despite his scornful nature. Before they notice it has become quite late although Tilhi is not displeased. 

"Ah, I suppose you will need to head home soon", he says and gets up to gather the tea cups to take them to the kitchen counter. "I would say I am sorry to keep you here so late but it would be a lie." There's a wider smile playing across his lips. "I am thankful for you to have kept me company tonight." 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Still uncomfortable, Tilhi expression now has a tinge of embarrassment as well. 

"That is… purely my own personal wish", he admits, finally looking back at Suula. "The Embassy would of course gladly house my father. But." 

He grimaces. “I would rather not have him around all the time. Besides he would probably be overjoyed if you offered him a place to stay.”

[suulatar-blog]

/Oh. Apparently Runwil is that dreadful to be around that Tilhi does not even want to be in the same building with him. Suula tries to be understanding, seeing how uneasy this conversation is making him, giving the redhead a rather soft smile./

I… Understand. Don’t worry, I am more than glad to take him as my guest. /The mage realises that the sweetroll has been in his hand the whole time, and he finally takes a bite of it. It actually tastes pretty good. He gulps it down and turns to looks at Tilhi./ I am surprised. The nords actually managed to bake something decent.

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi's posture immediately relaxes and he actually smiles.

"That is great to hear. Thank you, Suula." 

He is incredibly glad that he won't have to run into Runwil in the hallways or dining hall on a daily basis. 

At the Justiciar's comment on the pastry he chuckles and picks up the other sweetroll. He takes a bite and shrugs.  

"How miserable their life here would be if even some of them could not bake?" 

[commandertilhi-blog]

"Good to hear. Please tell him my regards when you get back home", Tilhi smiles. He lifts his cup with both hands and blows into it again, the warm cup warming his hands pleasantly. He stays quiet for a while, enjoying the calming taste of the tea. Then he sighs and leans his back more against the chair. 

"I wasn’t going to bring this subject up, but…" the Commander looks at Suula, then shifts his gaze to the side, clearly uncomfortable. "Would you like to accommodate, hmh, Interrogator Runwil on his visit to Solitude?” 

[suulatar-blog]

/He just smiles as a response, then notices the sweetrolls on the table, reaching to grab one, not minding the silence. Rotating it in his hand, he inspects it quite thoroughly, as if expecting to find something wrong with it. However, the pastry seems to be fine, and he is about to take a bite but then Tilhi begins to speak, making him put it back down. Suula still cannot fathom how his uncle could make the Commander feel so uncomfortable. Runwil is a bit… Cunning at times, but surely he can’t be that bad. Not at least to his own biological son.

The Justiciar raises his brows at the question./

Ah, well, of course. I have a guest room where he could stay, but… /Gives Tilhi a bit doubtful look/ Is there not any room here at the Embassy?

[commandertilhi-blog]

Still uncomfortable, Tilhi expression now has a tinge of embarrassment as well. 

"That is... purely my own personal wish", he admits, finally looking back at Suula. "The Embassy would of course gladly house my father. But." 

He grimaces. "I would rather not have him around all the time. Besides he would probably be overjoyed if you offered him a place to stay."

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi has to look away to not to chuckle. The Justiciar’s sweet tooth is still as surprising as it was for the first time when he heard about it. How can such a mer, who is usually so sour, like sweet things so much? 

He blows into his own tea to cool it down a little and sips it. It tastes good enough for him without any sugar. Thinking about Suula’s sweet tooth, however, reminds him of someone else. 

"Ah, how is Algus, by the way? I hope he fares well, too. It has become somewhat chilly… well, chillier than normally, that is." 

[suulatar-blog]

/He stirs his drink again after adding the sugar and takes a sip of it. Ah, much better! Then Suula fixes his gaze on Tilhi./

Hm, he has been well, I suppose. But Algus is not one to complain. I believe he once told me that he finds the cold rather refreshing. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

"Good to hear. Please tell him my regards when you get back home", Tilhi smiles. He lifts his cup with both hands and blows into it again, the warm cup warming his hands pleasantly. He stays quiet for a while, enjoying the calming taste of the tea. Then he sighs and leans his back more against the chair. 

"I wasn't going to bring this subject up, but..." the Commander looks at Suula, then shifts his gaze to the side, clearly uncomfortable. "Would you like to accommodate, hmh, Interrogator Runwil on his visit to Solitude?" 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi nods and gets a small jar of sugar and puts it on the table. The tea is done and he lifts it from the fireplace, setting it on a pot coaster in the middle of the somewhat small table. He gets a tea strainer, then takes the kettle and pours the bright golden, sweet smelling liquid into Suula’s cup, the strainer catching the leaves. He pours some for himself as well and sets the kettle down before sitting at the table. 

"I do hope the tea is to your liking, it is one of my favourites. If I remember right there’s peach and chamomile in it. It makes a very soft tea."

[suulatar-blog]

/He gives the other a smile and takes the sugar jar./

Well, it does smell quite good. /Suula puts a bit of sugar in his tea, though he knows it already is somewhat sweet, but he is in the mood or something extra sweet today. And there is no such thing as “too sweet” to him. He stirs his drink, then brings the edge of the cup to his lips, tasting it carefully. The blonde purses his lips and looks at his tea, looking thoughtful before grabbing the sugar again, mumbling to himself./ Maybe a little bit more… 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi has to look away to not to chuckle. The Justiciar's sweet tooth is still as surprising as it was for the first time when he heard about it. How can such a mer, who is usually so sour, like sweet things so much? 

He blows into his own tea to cool it down a little and sips it. It tastes good enough for him without any sugar. Thinking about Suula's sweet tooth, however, reminds him of someone else. 

"Ah, how is Algus, by the way? I hope he fares well, too. It has become somewhat chilly... well, chillier than normally, that is." 

[commandertilhi-blog]

"Haha, maybe." 

Tilhi takes two cups from the shelf and places one of them in front of Suula along with a spoon. Steam is rising from under the lid of the kettle and Tilhi takes a small bag of fine quality tea leaves (imported from Alinor, of course) and measures three spoonfuls into it. 

"Ah, almost forgot. Would you like some honey or sugar with the tea?"

[suulatar-blog]

Sugar, please. 

[commandertilhi-blog]

Tilhi nods and gets a small jar of sugar and puts it on the table. The tea is done and he lifts it from the fireplace, setting it on a pot coaster in the middle of the somewhat small table. He gets a tea strainer, then takes the kettle and pours the bright golden, sweet smelling liquid into Suula's cup, the strainer catching the leaves. He pours some for himself as well and sets the kettle down before sitting at the table. 

"I do hope the tea is to your liking, it is one of my favourites. If I remember right there's peach and chamomile in it. It makes a very soft tea."