[h3]Listen[/h3] [hr] As the sun began its slow, lingering ascent of the day, she watched with a sense of wonder as liquid gold spilled across the very edge of the horizon and bled out as far as her eyes could track it. The intensity of the red set fire to the pools of water that were her own eyes and cast an orange aura around her, painting her the colour of marigolds. With the breeze running through her hair, and her gaze so intense toward [i]something[/i] out there, she almost let herself slip away and briefly forgot her reason for seeking out such a beautifully lonely spot. She took her time in standing up, reflecting on the conversation she had just had with Zaveed - rather, the conversation he had forced upon her. The way that, even when she had demanded he listen, he had still seen fit to talk at her. His bold assumption that their encounters had connected them on enough of a level that he somehow knew her better than she knew herself, and thus would save her from the madness that [i]he[/i] had put there. To absolve himself of his own guilt perhaps? When would someone just [i]listen[/i] to her? [b]She did not feel better. [/b] His inability to cease his tongue only served to remind her that nobody cared anymore, if they even had in the first place. What happened to her was the news of yesterday now. He was not someone she wanted to know or be around, but for whatever reason and for whatever purpose, they were stuck together now. She could either avoid him and slither to the fringes of the group to put as much distance between them as possible, or she could rise above it and carry on - ignoring his presence. If such a few short experiences of suffering had caused her to be so angry, then what would years of it do? But she realised that even a stone could be worn down with enough rain, and that a mind troubled by doubt and pain could not focus on victory. Would she ever flee the misery within herself? She could no sooner stop herself from feeling sadness and sorrow than she could stop herself from taking in the scent of flowers that were freshly picked and arranged in a vase in front of her. She was not a patient woman, it had never suited her to be that way. It was her mother that remarked that she and her father were like water and the sea, ever changing and moving - unable to stop. This was unlike Roxada who had the stillness of the earth itself in her personality, as if she were a tree firmly rooted into the ground. She was stubborn and unmoving when she needed to be but kind and patient about it. Roxada’s temper flared from her maternal instinct. Raelynn’s temper was flared by the obstacles in her path. Right now, Zaveed being here to remind her of the misery she had endured was an obstacle that, like water, she would have to find a way around. She continued through the mouth of the cave, and somehow her throat swallowed back something, it pushed down a knot of emotion that there was no room left on her face to display. People were waking up now to the day as dawn broke through and brought the intense warmth with it. All at once, she realised that she had been, for so long posturing for a crowd. When in fact all that was there was a strip of emptiness and nobody to hear her. The events of the days gone by strangely brought to mind a very old song that her father used to sing to she and her mother, that his own mother had sung to him when he was a child, the lyrics somewhat questionable in nature were to be sung in what Salosoix had thought to be a dialectical derivative of Ayleidoon. Whether that was true or not beggared belief, she had even wondered if it was all just made up. It certainly sounded somewhat like a language of Mer - the way the consonants fell softly from the lips. She just knew the sound of the words and their meaning when strung together. What mattered was that she knew this song, and it’s meaning. [i]Nobody else would.[/i] As her bare feet met the cold stone once more, she filled her lungs with the breath required to perform her song and began in a clear voice - soft and delicate. It resonated around the walls of the chasm that was their current sanctuary. Clear as crystal and effortlessly pleasant, she carried her song with her to the pool of water central in the Oasis, picking up an empty jug on her way. [indent][i]There lives a rare beauty in the North... She's the finest lady in all of Nirn A glance from her, a city falls A second glance leaves nations in ruins There is no city or nation that has been More cherished than a beauty like she.[/i][/indent] The lyrics felt indecorate to her now, and she thought of Gilane - of plumes of smoke towering above the palace. Of the clash of the chandelier above Rourken’s head, the look of shock and fury she had on her face after seeing Raelynn materialise before her eyes just as she was about to have her way with Gregor and defeat him. She [i]stole[/i] that opportunity from her bare hands with her very presence. And yet, the song was beautiful. An almost haunting melody that echoed and reverberated around the oasis as if it were now her own arena. She filled the jug with the freshwater from the waterfall, a smile on her face as she did so, her eyes alight with a secret joy. This was the catharsis she had needed, there she was - singing in poetry an almost confession of her misdeeds and it rang out as something beautiful and as smooth as the silk of her blouse, flowing like the water of the springs... [indent][i]There lives a rare beauty in the North... She's the finest lady in all of Nirn With her eyes like vast oceans At her will, a province drowns There is no province in all of Nirn, More cherished than a beauty like she.[/i][/indent] As she reached the final verse, she thought of Gregor and the fiery nature he would be trying to suppress right now while keeping his secret under the veil of his shadow in the company of their party. Dreams and quests could be such dangerous things: they smoldered like fire, and sometimes those very flames reach levels in which they consume all… She looked over at him as he went about his morning business, continuing to sing. She was emboldened further by him as she reached the climax of her secret song. Lyrics aside, it felt… Nice to do this. [indent][i]There lives a rare beauty in the North... She's the finest lady in all of Nirn She wields fire and flame in her heart In her grip the world will burn There is no world in Oblivion, More cherished than a beauty like she.[/i][/indent] She pictured her lover, adorned in his battledress - an army of undead to the left and right of him in the palace of Gilane. The great lengths he had gone to keep his promise to her. What else would await them? What else would they burn, drown, and ruin together? With that thought came an almost contrasting vision of the two of them together in peace - away from all of this, away from the troubles that had been hunting them down. No cave floor to sleep on, but a comfortable bed by a generous hearthfire. Paintings hung on the wall - it was a beautiful but modest room - just one of many in a beautiful home in some slumbering town on the outskirts of the busy cities. It was just theirs. There was to be no soul trapping, no torture - nobody stopping them or frightening them or threatening them. Just Gregor and Raelynn. That would be the victory on which she would focus. It occurred to her then, as she stood by the waterfall that when a stone is dropped into a pond, the water would continue quivering from its weight even after it had touched the bottom. Whatever the struggles she would face, and whatever they would both accomplish - after time all suffering would eventually fall from them. The ripples would cease, and the stone would be just that - a single stone at the bottom of a vast pond. All of a sudden, she felt better again.