[center][h3]Into the Fire[/h3][/center] [hr] [indent][i]31st Last Seed, Gilane[/i] The walk from the cultural centre to her father’s lodgings had been nothing short of awkward. The Redguard who was guiding her stayed a little too close for her comfort, and each time that she would try to side step from him she would be met with an instant glare from his heavily lined eyes. As stubborn as she was, this was not a fight she would win, and so she chose to walk faster and make the journey pass quicker. As they arrived, he ushered her into the den, her father was waiting ahead of the door with a smile on his face. “Zhaib, wait at the door please. I want no unexpected visitors,” he said dryly to his hired guard, before taking Raelynn into a soft embrace as his greeting. “Raelynn, I trust your morning has been productive. I have been waiting for you.” “So I heard…” she cast a sour look back at Zhaib, whose nostrils flared out as a retort. “He’s lovely by the way, you couldn’t have picked a friendlier and more charismatic guard…” Salosoix laughed as he led the way into his lounge - the same room from the night before. Only this time without the dinner setting, it looked different. It looked official. Scrolls were laid out upon the surfaces and he had his various lockboxes in sight now. “Don’t mind Zhaib, he is abrupt but he is loyal. He is sworn to me, to [i]us[/i].” [i]Abrupt? That’s an understatement.[/i] She didn’t say it aloud. Her eyes scanned the room again - incense was burning in the corner and there was a tea set sat beside it behind the billowing fragranced smoke. “Take a seat, we have much to discuss and I’m afraid not a lot of time now - I’ll cut to my point. I need to know who the strongest are in your party, from the group that you arrived with.” His prying into such matters turned her stomach. She felt no such loyalty to the group at large, save a few of the individuals, but she didn’t like getting her father involved in the business. Whether it was a feeling of apprehension of their paths getting completely crossed and him getting hurt, or him seeking them out and getting them into trouble. It wasn’t right. But she would not disobey him. “There is an Argonian named Jaraleet - he’s very capable. I healed him after a frightfully violent battle.” Her father sighed, pacing the room. His initial warmth melting away as he held his tongue. His brow furrowed and Raelynn could sense his agitation. “Papa? Are you alright?” She was used to him having such mood swings - he was a fast thinker and had an active mind, she often imagined that his mind must be filled with a cacophony of thoughts. “What of the Imperial?” he asked, resolute disappointment in his tone. She tilted her head, wondering how he knew of Gregor - it didn’t take her long to piece it together. “You had me followed last night, didn’t you?” she asked, arms folding over her chest in frustration. “Of course I did Raelynn, it was past curfew…” he replied quietly, thumbing over some scrolls awkwardly on a chest of drawers. “You’re a grown woman, your romantic pursuits are none of my business--” “You are correct, I am, and they’re not. I’m glad you’re feeling awkward over this. I know that I am.” “I may have work for them is all Raelynn. I… I am sorry. But the situation here is fraught and I wanted to be assured you were safe so I had Zhaib track you. He came back once you reached the inn. He’s your guard but he believed the Imperial to be capable to take care of you. He… didn’t feel that you were at risk--” “Oh well thank the Gods then, if Zhaib says so! Papa, please. Yes, Gregor is capable. I have personally watched him in battle. He is capable and powerful. Are you satisfied with that answer?” Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and even Salosoix couldn’t make eye contact with his daughter. “So the Argonian and the Imperial. Do you think at least one of them would assist me?” he asked, obviously having shaken off the awkwardness of the moment, his face serious again, the sparkle gone from his eyes - all that was left was a stare of cold professionalism. “Yes, I can be sure of that at the very least. Papa, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here, what is this all for?” She was short in her tone, and direct - flashing him a heated glare. Tired of his kryptic dancing around the point - tired of not knowing. He simply brought his hands together and held an authoritative posture as he uttered the words to her - shattering the silence as if it were a pane of glass. “I want to remove The Poncy Man from his poncy throne.”[/indent] [hr] [hr] [indent][i]2nd Midyear, late-afternoon, somewhere in Gilane[/i] [b]CRASH[/b] The booming sound broke the silence, and then footsteps - heavy footsteps that brought shifted the energy in the room, stirring it with an icy air until it fell to a grinding halt, darkness seeping in like rain after a drought. “Gregor…?" she whispered from under the bag as she heard the whistle of a sword striking down upon the Khajiit, his death cry piercing and chilling. The sound of his pain permeating through the black of the room. Then she felt arms around her, cradling her from the chair. Her weakened frame sinking against his chest - his heart pounding. “You came for me, I knew-” A ringing in her ears shot through and pulled her to consciousness. The sting from her hand was so hot that it was radiating outwards. Audible pain. She wanted to scream but no sound left her lips - just bloody drool. She could taste it, coppery and foul. She spat it into her lap. With the free hand she pulled the bag from her head finally, bringing her fingers to her mouth. She had bitten down on her lip when then nail had impacted her, split it open. She whimpered, terrified. Her legs shaking tremendously. Nobody was coming to help her. Nobody even knew she was here. [i]Is he coming back?[/i] She thought to herself as she reached out to her other hand, gingerly pressing against it - feeling the pain instantly. She stamped a foot on the ground to stop herself from calling out. The blood was still wet and warm, it must have only been minutes that she had been unconscious. She had to act now to get out. The strap of her satchel was by her foot. If she could only reach it, she had herbs and -- ALOE! She had to get the Aloe. It pained her to lean down to pick up her bag, and she felt the pressure build in her hand as she pulled against the nail. She grabbed it and poured the contents out onto the desk, feeling her way over everything until she found the aloe leaves, placing them in her mouth and chewing them until the gel burst onto her tongue - she kept chewing it into a paste before she spat it into her hand, and then let it drop onto her other hand. It instantly provided relief - but it wouldn’t last long. She had at the most, minutes. She reached for the bag, scrunching it as best as she could, shoving it into her mouth so that she would have [i]something[/i] to bite down upon. Her right hand quivered as she touched the head of the nail. Just touching it ran a shock through her hand and up to her elbow. [i][b]You can do this Raelynn. You can set the bones of Nord men back into place Raelynn. You are strong enough to do this, Raelynn.[/b][/i] It didn’t come easily, and she had to wriggle it against the wood to crack it ever so with each fraction of movement sending shockwaves through her entire arm. Then in one hard, fast tug she wrenched it out. Screaming at the top of her lungs into the bag - the deafening ringing in her ears drowned it out completely. The soothing sensation from the aloe was gone and her hand bled out against her. She took the canvas bag and shoved the bloodied, mangled hand in there and wrapped it as tight as she could. Her flowers and herbs were left strewn across the desk, droplets of her blood staining their once delicate and pristine petals. She ran for the door and didn’t look back.[/indent] [hr] [hr] [indent][i]2nd Midyear, evening, Salosoix Hawkford’s Residence[/i] It had been sheer adrenaline that had carried her back to the town centre and to her father’s residence. It had been Zhaib that saw her stumbling through the back alley. It had been Zhaib that picked her off her feet and hurried her inside. “Raelynn, my daughter what happened?!” Salosoix cried as she fell to her knees on the patterned throws across the floor. She couldn’t answer him - it was as if the dam had finally burst. The restrained emotion that she had bottled within during her interrogation came flooding out. Zhaib gabbed at her hands - she didn’t even have the energy to wince and pull them back. Her father reached for his healing potions - pouring out the contents onto the wounds of each hand. The relief was instant but it wasn’t enough. “I fucked up Papa,” she wept, her body felt heavy and like dead weight. “It certainly fucking looks like it, what did you do you stupid girl?” he demanded, standing upright over her, his face like thunder but behind the expression he was barely holding himself together. He had to be strong. [center]She told him everything that she could, recounting every detail to them both while they were still fresh in her mind.[/center] It took them some time, but Salosoix and Zhaib eventually patched up her hands as best as they could with what they had. Cloths, healing potions, and bandages. Eventually they settled on dressing them in a pair of black gloves. Salosoix walked away silently after that, an uninviting aura following him like a cloud. He left Zhaib to clean away Raelynn’s face of blood and rinse her hair clean too. She looked better, but only moderately so. He was gentle and unlike the brute she had thought him to be. “You’ll have to dress yourself M’lady, maybe in the morning…” Zhaib said with a sigh. As she looked at him, even though Raelynn had sold him out, his eyes appeared soft in the light of the hearthfire. “You father has some fresh clothes for you. He even said that your mother made them.” The thought of wearing something made by her mother made her heart ache for her. It had been so long since she had seen her, wearing those garments would help her to feel close - maybe they would make her feel stronger too. “I’m sorry Zhaib, I reall-” “Don’t. I swore my life to your family, I will be okay. As long as you are safe tonight, then I have done my duty.” He walked to the other side of the room, bringing one last potion of healing to her; “I’ve seen this before. I’ve been… Where you are. Your father wants to help restore Gilane - if I die for his mission, then it is a noble death.” He held the bottle to her swollen lips, taking drops of it onto his fingertips and running them over the torn flesh there. The rest of it she drank. Unlike just days prior, Raelynn could recognise what her father had seen in Zhaib. He was right, the Redguard was loyal. The guilt at having given his name to her torturer churned her insides. “Go to sleep Raelynn, I will return you to your hotel in the morning,” he said, his placing his hand on top of hers gently as he watched her drift off to sleep in the bed. “You are safe tonight, I promise. When you wake your strength will have returned and we will go back to working on your hands.” Salosoix had remained distant since hearing Raelynn’s tale. He was sat at his desk, a glass of wine in front of him, his breath meditative and his expression grim. He clenched both fists as he watched his guard comfort his daughter. A quill was resting against his fingers as he began to aggressively pen his correspondence. [i]How could this have happened?[/i] Were the words that continued to play in his mind. This was not part of his plan. There would be some severe consequences for this. [/indent]