[center][h3]Thank You[/h3] [/center] [i][sub]Brought to you by Greenie and yours truly[/sub][/i] [hr] [i]12th of Midyear, Late Night, Three Crowns Hotel, Courtyard[/i] With the meeting finally over, Meg had left almost immediately, though not for bed. True, she was exhausted, but more than physically it was mentally. Those days with Zahir in the other inn had left her stressed, even though she knew he was going to be fine. It was the future that kept pricking at her mind. What would happen once Sora was rescued? It didn’t seem plausible to her that they would be able to stay here in Gilane. If her friend had been so easily captured from right under their noses, if Raelynn had been so easily tortured with no one being the wiser, then how would the entire group be able to remain where they were? Being allied with the Poncy Man had brought more cracks to their group than safety, and it worried and saddened her. And what of Zahir? If she was to leave… who would take care of him? She didn’t want those thoughts for tonight. They still had time- she wanted to relax her mind and let herself feel free. She knew he was safe, so she would stay here for the night. But before then… Having snatched a bottle from her room, Meg had made her way out to the hotel’s courtyard, carefully walking down the dimly lit pathway before she finally came to the same short wall where she had sobbed like a child before her friend. Smiling a little, she sat down and stretched out her legs, pulling out the cork as she did. It seemed like so long ago- so much had happened since the night of the party… too much. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a gulp, enjoying the taste and hoping it would provide some of the numbness she wanted to feel. “I had a feeling that I would find you here.” Said Jaraleet as he entered the courtyard, frowning slightly as he noticed the bottle on Meg’s hand. “I think you told me a while ago that if I saw you with a bottle of alcohol I should take it from your hands, no?” The Argonian spoke as he crossed the short distance that separated them. He still wore the armor with which he had set off to Al-Aqqiya, damaged as it was after Sa’ad’s onslaught, having not bothered to change in the aftermath of the meeting that the group had held. Letting out a sigh, he sat next to Meg and turned his head to look at her. “Want to tell me what's bothering you?” He asked her softly, a note of worry in his voice. Meg looked up, surprise written on her face. She hadn't expected anyone to notice where she was, not that she didn't feel a little happy that she [i]had[/i] been noticed... perhaps a little giddy that it was her argonian friend. Then she saw the state of his armour and clothes, and the slight feeling of elation fell, creating a pit in her stomach. She took another gulp from the bottle, slightly sheepish from his words but not particularly willing to comply and give up her drink. "How 'bout we share then?" she asked, giving him a small grin, though there was a hint of desperation as she spoke. "Drink's on me, eh?" She set the bottle on his lap, still holding onto it just in case he decided he wasn't thirsty. "An’ I'll tell you what's botherin' me if you tell me why you're hurt again." It was hard to miss the tremble in her voice. Jaraleet let out a sigh when it became clear that Meg wasn't willing to let go of her drink. “If you wish, I could use a drink.” He commented as she placed the bottle on his lap. “I probably should be asking you that question.” He replied with a slight frown when she said that she'd only tell him what was bothering her if he told her why he was hurt once more. “The last time I saw you both of your knuckles were bloody messes and your lip was split.” He said as he gingerly freed the bottle from her grip, frowning when he noticed that her knuckles were still bruised and only scabbing just now. “Honestly, look at them. I should probably drag you to my room so I could bandage them.” He said, still holding her hand as he carefully ran his thumb over her knuckles. “But, to answer your question, I got hurt while I was on a mission with Sevari and Latro.” Jaraleet said, taking a drink from the bottle. "That's not fair... changin’ the subject like that..." Meg's mumbles quieted however. A mission with Sevari and Latro? She blinked a little, and then she remembered the khajiit man addressing Jaraleet after he had saved him and sent them on the way. She bit her lip, suddenly upset, and the pain from her healing wound fueled it even more. He had just gotten better, and then was immediately whisked off onto another life threatening mission? How was that right? How was that... But that was what he was, wasn't it? Like Gregor had said. She let out a soft sigh and looked up at the argonian. "Ya really gotta be more careful," she muttered. "Yer not like, a pincushion or somethin'. If somethin' happened to you too..." Looking down at her own hand, she shook her head, voice low as she continued. "Bruised hands an' a split lip wouldn' hurt as much as what I'd be feelin' in 'ere." She used her free hand and rapped it against her heart; a slight hiss of pain escaped as her bruise made contact with her shirt. Jaraleet felt his guts twist with guilt as Meg spoke, easily able to tell that the Nord woman was upset. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Didn’t mean to hurt you or make you upset. When Sevari came for me he was already with Latro, ready to go. There wasn’t much time to say anything to anyone.” He said softly. “But, hey, I’m here now, am I not? Bruised, yeah, but still alive.” He said softly, trying to ease her worries a little bit. "Yeah," she agreed, smiling a little as she nodded. That was the most important thing, wasn't it? He was alive and well and right here, not like Rhea, not like J'raij... Taking another sip from the bottle, she let out a small sigh, though this one was much more relaxed than the one before. Unknowingly she leaned closer, resting her head against the argonian. "When I foun' Zahir... there were two men. They were just wailin' on him, even though he was down an' out. Just beatin' on him 'cause he was too small t'defend himself. An'-" Her hands curled into fists, and she winced at the tightness. "-I... just lost it. It... it made me so damn mad t'see him like that. Helpless. I wanted t'kill ‘em. I didn' think of me, nothin'. I just wanted 'em to know how it must've felt for him." She paused and tilted her head, wondering what Jaraleet might be thinking. "Beat 'em good too." “Hmmm, I see.” Jaraleet replied when Meg had finished telling her tale. Part of him wanted to be mad at her for putting herself in danger and, yet, he found that he couldn't do so. Instead, the Argonian found himself smiling at the Nord woman, chuckling softly. “Why am I not surprised in the least.” He said fondly, shaking his head slightly. “I'm sorry to hear that Zahir went through that.” He said softly, tightening his embrace slightly. He could tell that Meg cared for the orphan a great deal and he had no doubt that the beating he had gone through was something that still bothered her "Aye, me too." Meg looked back down at the bottle in her hand, contemplating it. "He though' I was taken away by the dwemer, like his pa..." Her grip around the bottle tightened and she took a gulp before holding it out for him to partake. "Las' time I fough' like tha'? I was just a kid in Riften streets. After tha', it was always with m'sword." She grinned a little as she shook her leg, letting the sword in the scabbard by her hip jostle. Jaraleet chuckled softly and smiled at Meg, taking the bottle from her hands and taking a swig. “Hmmm, I better watch out and make sure I don’t make you angry. Don’t think I could win against you in a fist fight.” He said, laughing slightly. He took another swig from the bottle and offered it again for Meg to take a drink. Meg's grin turned a little mischievous as she grabbed the bottle in one hand and raised her free hand, curling it lightly and tapping at his armour, being careful not to make contact with where she was still bruised. "Only one way t'fin' out," she replied, letting out a laugh of her own. Jaraleet cocked an eyebrow up at Meg’s words. “Is that a challenge, Miss Megana?” The Argonian asked, smirking slightly at her. “Because if it is, well, you better be careful, or I might take you up on it.” "I would but yer already in a state," Meg quipped back with a giggle, letting her hand rest in her lap. "Wouldn' wanna hurt ya even more, y'know?" She found herself amused, her earlier melancholic mood put to the side for fun bantering with the argonian. She looked up and smiled at him, eyes bright. "I gotta thank you. Y'always make m'feel better when I'm feelin' down." Meg set the bottle on the ground before carefully wrapping her arms around the argonian; she didn't want to hurt him any more than he was, but she was certainly going to show her affection and appreciation. Jaraleet smiled at Meg’s words. “I’m glad to hear that I’ve been able to help you Meg.” The Argonian said softly. He was surprised when he felt Meg’s arms wrap around him, and let out a soft chuckle when he noticed that she was being deliberately careful. “You know I’m not made of glass, right?” He playfully chided her before he too wrapped his arms around her in an embrace, pulling her closer than before. Surprised that he returned the hug, Meg was still for a split second before letting out an elated laugh and wrapping her arms tighter around the argonian. It felt nice, comfortable, something she had clearly missed for a long time, though she wouldn't be able to tell [i]how[/i] long. When she finally pulled away she was still smiling, face a little pink. "Yer right," she replied jokingly, "yer not made of glass." “It would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?” The Argonian joked back, letting out a soft chuckle, before he smiled at Meg, happy to see that she was feeling better from what he could tell. He closed his eyes slightly and, without thinking, pulled Meg a bit closer to him as he leaned against the wall comfortably. “I’m glad that you are back. I was worried when you told me you wouldn’t be staying here for a while.” He said softly, not fully sure why he had voiced that particular thought. "Really?" Meg replied. She blinked at the argonian, though with his eyes closed he wouldn't have been able to see. "I... well tha's why I came back t'tell you. I thought maybe you might've been..." She couldn't help but turn a little more red, grinning once more. He would have been worried... would he have missed her as well? It was as if warm feeling was descending upon her, reminding her of just a few years ago when she would feel the same with her khajiit friend. Feeling a little abashed, it took her a moment before replying. "Well... makes me happy t'hear tha'. I mean- I don' [i]wan'[/i] you t'worry, but it just-" She fumbled about for her words. "Guess it just feels nice someone would be thinkin' 'bout me." “I think we’ve had this conversation about worrying for the other before, haven’t we?” Jaraleet joked slightly, opening his eyes again and smiling softly at Meg. “But, yes, I really was worried for you.” He told her softly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. “I understand, don’t worry.” He told her when she mentioned that it felt nice that someone would be thinking of her. He opened his mouth to speak again when, suddenly, a thought crossed his mind: could he truly say that he understood what she meant? He was Haj-Eix, a blade wielded by the An-Xileel for the protection of Argonia. His life’s worth was proportional to his use for that purpose. “[i]You need only concern yourself with one thing and one thing only: your mission to Argonia.[/i]” The words from the head of the facility in which he had been trained rang crystal-clear in his mind, as if he had only heard them yesterday. All of his life up until this point he had never cared for anyone, and he was sure that no one had cared for him in turn. At least not the way Meg did….or the way he now cared for her. He had been close to his fellow Haj-Eix trainees, that was for certain, but there had always been the unspoken truth that their missions could call for them to sacrifice the other at a moment’s notice for the good of the mission. Or that one might leave and never return. The sudden realization made him feel uncomfortable, and a lump in his throat formed as he tried to organize his thoughts. “Thank you, Meg.” He said softly, pulling her a bit closer than before. Surely it was fine for someone to worry for him like Meg did, no? Surely….it couldn’t hurt for him to worry that way too, right? A little confused at being thanked and pulled closer, Meg could only try to imagine what might be going on in his mind. He was such a closed book to her, but she found herself drawn to him anyway. She remained quiet for awhile as she rested against the argonian, allowing herself to enjoy the closeness for as long as it lasted, a lingering smile on her face. "Dunno what you're sayin' thanks for, silly," she finally murmured. "I'm the one who should be sayin' it." Jaraleet smiled softly at Meg’s words, allowing himself to enjoy the moment for one more moment before he spoke again. “What for?” He asked her softly. He had an idea of what she’d say...but part of him wanted to hear her say it. Maybe it was selfish on his part, and he couldn’t fully understand [i]why[/i] he wanted to hear Meg say it….but surely there would be no harm in allowing himself such a small act of selfishness, no? He shook his head slightly to clear his mind free of his errant thoughts. “I do mean it Meg, thank you.” He added softly before she could answer. A chuckle left Meg. "Well then, yer welcome, even if I dunno why." She hesitated for the slightest moment before reaching over and taking his hand. "What for? Jaraleet, yer words in Anvil're one of the reason's I'm still here. I was... lost there, I didn' know what t'do, where t’go. I felt... lonely, but you came along an y'were a friend. Even here, in Gilane... you've had m'back-" She paused, her lips trembling slightly. "Y'took a bullet for me. I- I would've been [i]dead[/i] if it weren' for you. Even now... y'didn' have t'come but... y'did." Her eyes were a little glazed as she looked him in the eyes. "All that, an' more... that's why I'm thankin' you." Her eyes shifted and she looked down at her lap, feeling embarrassed. There was more, but it was hard to say. This much was enough for now. Jaraleet was silent for a second as he processed what Meg had just told him. He was truly selfish, wasn’t he? Someone like him who had bloodied his hands with murder and torture without batting an eye didn’t deserve for someone like Meg to think so highly of him. To care for him so deeply. He swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat forming again and his guts twisting with guilt. He suddenly pulled her into an embrace once more, so that she wouldn’t see the moisture that had suddenly formed in his eyes. “I’d do it again.” He said, his voice barely rising above a choked up whisper. “For you, I’d do it again.” He repeated himself, breathing deeply and closing his eyes. “I...I...thank you Meg...I don’t deserve such words….but thank you.” Jaraleet said, briefly tightening his embrace before he eased his hold on Meg. Why did he say such things? Why wouldn't he deserve such words? Thoughts were whirling in Meg's mind as she was embraced, and even as he eased his hold, she remained as she was. She suddenly remembered Gregor's words from the party. [i]“Don't be too hard on Jaraleet. He is a good man who means well. His methods are a product of his past. The war between the Argonians and the Dunmer is famously cruel, Megana. The unfortunate reality is that we find ourselves fighting a similar war now against the Dwemer, a race who did not hesitate to butcher defenseless citizens in the Imperial City. If Jaraleet kept things from you, he did that because he wants to preserve your innocence. It is a beautiful thing that should be nourished because once lost, it can never be regained. You have a sweet heart and I admire that.”[/i] Was this why Jaraleet felt he didn't deserve the thanks she was giving him? The affection she felt for him? "No," she replied. "Don'- don' say that. I dunno yer past, but-" She hesitated, unsure of how to say what was in her heart. "-but tha' doesn' mean it takes away from what yer doin' now, for the group, for me. Whoever you were, whatever y'did- it's... you- yer not that person. Not t'me." He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve her words….and yet part of him wanted to hold onto them. To forget all that he was, all that he had done, all the blood and corpses of his past, and be the person that Meg believed him to be. He truly was selfish, wasn’t he? That desire was proof enough. “You can’t know how much that means to me.” He finally said, his voice yet again a choked up whisper. He let his head rest against her shoulder and let himself take solace in her presence. Surely he could afford himself this, no? After all his services to the An-Xileel? “Thank you.” "You're welcome." Meg didn't need to know the ghosts of his past to feel what he felt right now. She tightened her arms around him once more, closing her own eyes as she rested her head against him. He needed this even more than she did, and she was more than willing to deliver for him. She knew she couldn't take away the pain of his past, but she would lend him her gratitude and affection, and she would easily accept his in kind, gratefully and willingly. Jaraleet returned Meg’s embrace as he felt her arms tightening around him once more and as she let her head rest against him. The Argonian let the silence stretch on for a few more moments, allowing himself to simply be and take solace in the moment. Eventually, after taking a shaky breath, he pulled slightly away from Meg, albeit he didn’t fully break off the embrace. “I’m sorry, I came here to check up on you and yet you were the one who helped me out.” He said softly, smiling slightly at Meg after he shook his head. There was more that he wanted to say, to express, but he didn’t have the words to properly convey what he felt. “Thank you Meg, your words mean a lot to me.” He said softly, pausing hesitantly as he thought about what to say next. “And you. You mean a lot to me too.” He finally said, taking her hands in his and giving them a light squeeze. There was more that he wanted to say but he didn’t trust himself at the moment. That’d have to do for the moment. Meg couldn't help but beam up at the argonian, and though there was a slight wincing of pain when he held her hands, she refused to move them away. "You do too," she returned. The feeling of warmth from before had returned, engulfing her completely, marred only by the stinging of her hands. "Say," she finally continued, a sheepish grin on her face. "Remember when ya said somethin' ‘bout bandages...?" “Sorry, sorry, I got carried away in the moment and forgot.” Jaraleet said, chuckling softly before smiling at Meg. “Come, let’s go to my room, I think I can find some bandages there or, if worst comes to worst, I can easily make some, or well something close enough.” "It's fine," Meg replied with a laugh. "My fault, remember? Brynja would have my hide..." She scratched at her head before standing up, stretching out her arms towards the sky. "Ahh... that's nice." Leaning down, she picked up the still mostly full bottle before nodding at Jaraleet. "Lead the way!" Jaraleet smiled at Meg, glad to see that she was back to her usual sunny disposition. Standing up quickly, he nodded when she told him to lead the way. After leaving the courtyard it only took a few moments for them to find themselves in front of the door that led into Jaraleet’s room. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go and look to see if there are any bandages.” He said as he opened the door and beckoned Meg to enter. Nodding, Meg made her way in and headed over to one of the beds and sat down. Even as she took a sip from the bottle, she remembered the last time she had come in here, ready to go out and bring Daro’Vasora back home. Things hadn’t gone the way she’d hope, not at all. Setting the bottle next to her even as she clutched it, she let out a sigh, her mind wandering. She wanted her back, she wanted them [i]all[/i] back. [i]No sad thoughts tonight,[/i] she reminded herself. Bringing the bottle to her lips once more, she took a larger gulp. “Hmmm, it'd probably be a good idea to let go of the bottle before I bandage up your knuckles.” Jaraleet said as he made his way to the bed where Meg was sitting, a roll of bandages in one hand. “Unless you want me to bandage the bottle to one of your hands?” He joked as he took a seat next to her and gently grabbed her free hand. “Might sting a little at first.” He warned her as he began to bandage her knuckles. Meg screwed her face into a sulk, letting out a small huff. "A'right, a'right," she muttered, though she didn't actually set the bottle down until she took another large gulp. "There-" She hissed a little at the stinging but kept herself from moving, not wanting Jaraleet's efforts to be in vain. "Hrmm... I pro'ly shudda asked ya t'do this the other day..." She shrugged and kicked a little at the ground; despite the stinging, she was enjoying the attention. “It would have been for the best, yeah.” He said as he finished bandaging her first hand. “Probably should change it in a couple of days….but I'm no expert. So it'd probably be for the best if you consulted whoever is in charge of the infirmary here.” He said as he gingerly grabbed the other hand and began the same process that he had done on the first one. Pursing her lips further, Meg let out another 'hmmm' as she listened to the argonian's words. "I [i]guess[/i]," she agreed, head tilting as she watched the hand bandaging procedure. A smirk came over her as she sneakily reached for the bottle yet again. "Maybe Brynja... or maybe someone else." Even her fuzzy mind knew she would get in trouble if the Nord found out she wasn't taking care of her injuries. “Do I need to chain your hands to the bed so you won’t be clutching the Sithis-damned bottle all the time?” Jaraleet said, shaking his head slightly, before chuckling fondly. “At the very least don’t hog it all to yourself, will you?” "Ah!" She [i]had[/i] asked him to share- he had a point, she was drinking it all while he was doing all the hard work. Resisting the urge to drink more, she held it out for him to take. "Here, here, drink up!" Handing the bottle over, she let out a huge yawn before leaning back, enjoying the soft bed cover. "Y'know," she said after a moment, "the night's are so, so hot here compared t’home. Never even used the sheets. In Skyrim, y'couldn't sleep unless y'were covered up an' warm. At least, I couldn'." Her green eyes rested on Jaraleet. "Y'ever been there?" She paused a second before continuing. “How’s it where yer from?” Jaraleet shook his head when Meg asked him if he had ever been to Skyrim. “No, I’ve never been there.” He said, chuckling softly when she asked how it was the climate of Argonia. “Hot and humid. Didn’t have much need of blankets or any warm clothes in general. Sure, rains could be a bit of a bother from time to time. But, well, it’s not like in Skyrim I’d wager.” Jaraleet continued, chuckling softly. “The heat here didn’t bother me so much, it’s more the lack of humidity in the air that gets to me. At least Gilane is a port town, so it isn’t so bad. But, well, it isn’t pleasant still. It’s good that we haven’t had reason to venture into the desert proper. I don’t think I could stand it there.” "Hrmmm..." Meg flopped back on the bed and stared up at the oh so fascinating ceiling, waving a hand in the air before letting her arm fall back down next to her. "I'd die, I'd [i]so[/i] die in the desert," she commented, giggling a little and shaking her head. "Dry, dry Meg, like cured meat. I'd prob die in marshes too... I'm used t'cold... even Anvil was hot for me." Her giggles stopped after a moment, a thought from before returning to her. "Hey, Jaraleet... when we go an' try t'free Sora, we're pro'ly not be able t'stay here anymore... right...?" She propped herself up on her elbows so that she could see him. “Probably, yeah.” He replied to her question, letting out a sigh. “It’d probably be for the best if we left Hammerfell altogether, truth be told.” He continued on, lowering his voice so that only Meg could hear him. “Even if we succeed in freeing Sora, we’ll raise too much noise. Draw too much attention to ourselves. It wouldn’t surprise me if, after that mission, the Poncy Man would consider us more like a liability rather than assets worth protecting.” He said, letting out a sigh. “You’re thinking about Zahir, aren’t you?” He asked her softly. Why else would she ask him if they had to leave after trying to rescue Sora? Meg nodded, looking a little somber as she let herself lay back once again, the heels of her boots rhythmically hitting against the floor as she attempted to relay her thoughts. "I know I can' take him. This is his home- he ain' no one t'me really... I'm just..." Her voice trailed a little. "Worried... I know I'mma miss him some, an' he's gonna miss me..." She closed her eyes and let out a breath. "I s'pose I'll just havta see then, eh..." She took in a deep breath, feeling drowsiness slowly creeping in on her. "You'll be with us... right?" Eyes still closed, she reached out her hand. “I’ll be, don’t worry.” He replied, taking her hand in this. “Don’t try to lie to me Meg. Zahir isn’t no one to you, otherwise I doubt you’d have assaulted two men on your lonesome for ‘no one’ or am I wrong?” He asked her softly, a note of worry in his voice yet again. “If you need to...cry or...I don’t know, whatever you need to do….I am here for you Meg.” He said softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. A smile spread on Meg's face. Of course her stupid words were false, and of course he knew that just as well as her. "Yer a good one, Jaraleet," she mumbled, turning to her side and curling up as much as possible. Her hand was still in his and she was more than happy with that. "I... I know. Thank you." Even in her tipsy, sleepy state, she felt she was being a burden. "Sorry for jus' takin' over this bed." “Don’t worry about it Meg. Sleep well.” Jaraleet said softly, making no effort to pull his hand away. He waited for her to fall asleep and then made himself as comfortable as he could, too exhausted to put in the effort to move away or even take the time to change out of his damaged armor. It was likely the morning would bring regret over terrible sleeping postures. For the moment, however, there was peace and comfort.