[h1]My Bluebird[/h1] The Oasis, Hammerfell 15th of Midyear, 4e208 Dusk I swear I see her in my dreams… ...Stood up in the pale moonlight... [hr] Latro breathed out a sigh onto the cool air of the Oasis. The hubbub of voices did something to calm him, it seemed. This was the most at peace he’d felt. He sat in front of the tent, fading sunlight making radiating light shows of the water’s ripples. His ear pricked up as he heard Gregor’s voice somewhere near the entrance and Zaveed’s after. Although, that was thankfully about as lively as it got. He felt good, for the first time in a long time, lounging about shirtless and shoeless with his lute nearby. Though he still had he scabs from the cuts he took in the rescue, it felt good to be bare again. He daresay it was enough to make it so that the sight of his axe and knife laying next to him did little to perturb him as he sat tracing the scar along his stomach from the Dwemer ruin all those days ago, when this all started. The Dwemer, and him and Sora. It was peaceful, and an easy smile spread across his lips. He reached over to his side and grabbed up the sheet of paper he had been scribbling on for a time now, even since before the rescue while he would go to the study to be alone. As he brought it away from the sandy ground, his charcoal pencil rolling off of it, he was smiling to imagine the melody along with what he’d written. It was finished. The song he owed [i]her[/i], he smiled. He was so engrossed in reciting it in his head, he didn’t notice when her feet stepped up a bit from his face. He took the parchment from his eyes and looked up to see Sora. His smile only grew, he spoke the words out on the air, those hallowed syllables, “Hello, my love.” “You look like you're waiting on someone.” Daro’Vasora smiled, setting herself down with her legs folded under her as she leaned into Latro, noticing the parchment. “So, who might the lucky lady be?” she teased, trying to catch a glimpse of what Latro was writing. “What are you working on?” she asked curiously, playfully reaching for the sheet. Latro chuckled and tsk’d at Sora’s prying eyes, moving it away from her view as he spoke, “Oh, just someone I met in the Jeralls some time ago. I must admit,” he placed a kiss on her cheek while putting the parchment behind his back, looking into her eyes, “I’m growing a little smitten with her.” “Must be someone pretty special if she caught your eye,” the Khajiit replied bashfully, her tail flicking as a pair of fingers pressed where Latro’s lips had with a shy smile. A kiss planted on her lips and he stood, offering a hand out to her after he grasped up his lute in the other, “I believe I still owe you something, my dear Sora.” For the first time in a while he was nervous to play, as he led her to a place that was secluded, which still didn’t mean it was secluded enough for him. He sat down on a rock, taking his lute in both his hands and beginning to tune. Every so often he looked up at Sora and watched her eyes on his fingers. He knew there would be some who would hear the song still, caves did echo, but the war made him realize one thing at least- do something now, or you might not get the chance to, ever. Finally done with the tuning, he took in a breath and let it out long. He looked to Sora, “Ready, love?” Daro’Vasora’s heart raced as she covered her mouth in a mixture of surprise and shock; she had teased him about writing her a song from the very beginning, ever since discovering the Falmer wall painting, to tell her story. Words failed her as her throat choked up, and instead she nodded with a wide smile and gleaming eyes. She had hoped for this for so long, never quite feeling deserving of such a thing, and yet here they were. “I can’t promise I won’t ugly cry.” she said with an embarrassed chuckle before composing herself, kneeling in front of Latro, who looked like he was born for the lute she’d gifted him what seemed like a lifetime ago. He laughed at that, the lute strings picking up just as the last whispers of laughter left the air. It continued on like that for a bit, a bittersweet melody coming from fingers plucking with the emotion that was held by his bowed head and stirred beneath his closed eyelids. He nodded with the beat, keeping pace with it. “I’ve been working on it,” he paused, continuing on with his plucking, “for a while now. Revisions and revisions, rewrites. I’m a perfectionist because you deserve it, my fine Sora.” And he closed his lips and only left them parted but a hair, humming out a few testing rhythms. He bent the strings up, letting his last strum echo out on the air and just as he knew Sora would be wondering if that was all he had, he began strumming and plucking again, and with a voice that had haunted taverns and come back in many a person’s dream far after they’d forgotten his voice, the lyrics came- [I]“I swear I see her in my dreams Stood up in the pale moonlight Shaking like a blade in a young man’s hand Eyes like seas and touch like fires With words that make my heartstrings Sing like choirs Is my lady in her best fine dress She makes my skin ache for her caress Well, I been living with a curse Sitting here and combing through my youth There’s a million bloody miles Tween here and now And it’s soaking through my shoes I been tossing all the night I don’t sleep like I should do Even if my eyes got heavy My dreams don’t sing like they used to And what a sorry man I am for holding up the show I had a million little plans but they got nowhere to go You asked me to give you one good reason, but I could give you a million more Of why we could still love here, and I could still be the man you adore But I got the guiltiest conscience Listening for my savior almost every night I had my ear to the ground And you got the heavens in your eyes Forgive me, my bluebird, if I seem overwhelmed I’m trying to be a better man but they all keep pissing in my well Used to think my anger had a purpose and my dirge once rung true But that flew away on the winds that you brought along with you My bluebird, I need you to be patient, to try to understand I’m only a child trying to shoulder the work of a man And it’s seen my pockets empty and my heart bruised and scarred But my shaking knees might hold still if you could still love this bard”[/I] -He let the last chord hum out, be taken with the wind and commit it to the memory of the stones of this place. He gave a long breath again, opening his eyes to see what he had done to his lover. Daro’Vasora stood before him, tears flowing freely as she took in the song, a beautiful and almost mournful ballad that spoke volumes of the weight that Latro carried with him this whole time, the guilt, the fears. She reached out and held his face on either side gently. “I will love this bard, until my dying breath.” she promised, her words barely more than a whisper as she leaned in to kiss him, their lips touching, such a different sensation for both of them, but it felt right. Her tail flicked in rhythm, the song still in her ears; his voice was honeyed, and the lute sang as if it resonated with his soul. “You’ve nothing to be guilty for, Latro,” Daro’Vasora reassured him, running her hand through his long hair that she loved so much. “It was very much worth the wait.” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and nuzzling his neck. “Despite everything that happened, I got to have you in the end. How did I become so lucky?” she asked. He squeezed her tight as he could for a second and then eased, let her just be in his arms as he buried his face in the crook her neck. “I’ll never know. Perhaps we shouldn’t, lest we ruin it.” He smiled, apparent in his voice, “But however and whyever, I’m happy about it. Always. Every day.” He stayed with her like that for some time. Then he let her go and they both leaned back, his lute beside him again and he lay on his side, propped up on an elbow. “I’m glad you liked it.” He said, smiling, “One reason to stay with me is there’s more where it came from. Give me a week or two.” The prompted a smirk as she took in his scent, her face buried in his neck. “I’m starting to think you’re trying to bribe me. Thank you.” Daro’Vasora said, slowly pulling off from the embrace with a kiss to the cheek that she pressed in with her hand. “I… wrote you something too.” she admitted, looking down sheepishly. “My last night in the palace, when I thought I’d never see you again, I thought of how I never had a chance to hear your song, so I wrote you one instead. I recited it to the winds, hoping they’d carry it to you.” she shook her head, feeling flushed with embarrassment. “I thought it was the right way to say goodbye.” she admitted, breaking off for a few moments to her belongings and rummaging through them with care. She held the folded parchment to him when she returned. “I can’t really sing, not well enough to sway a bard.” she admitted. “Nonsense, you.” He took it in both hands like a hallowed scroll. Latro smiled to her, a sadness tinged it, knowing what she meant by saying her goodbyes. She thought him dead. He sighed, “If the world would end tomorrow, I’d be content knowing my lips last touched yours.” “Well, enough of that morbid talk.” Daro’Vasora replied with a girlish smile. “Go on, read it.” He nodded and smiled wide. Like two children snuck off to read each other love notes, they were. Latro’s eyes flitted across the page as he read. The farther his eyes descended the less his smile was. He finally got to the end and put the page aside, hand coming up to hide his eyes and his shoulders quaked. He gritted his teeth before he hauled in a long breath, letting it out as he wiped his eyes on his bare forearm. “I mean that much to you?” Latro asked, “Truly?” She reached up to Latro’s face, holding his cheeks with the gentlest of caresses. “You freed me from a cage I could never see, Latro. The world is so much wider and beautiful than I have ever seen before, with my eyes only to the past and in the depths of our world. I forgotten how beautiful people and their stories are, I never realized that one person could change one’s heart so completely. And so, Daro’Vasora bears her heart to you, Latro of the Reach; she has found her path, and you were her light.” she leaned in, kissing him with the faintest press of lips before embracing him fully. “She loves you, more than she ever could have thought she could care for another.” Latro placed his hand on hers, closing his eyes and resting his head in her palm, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone care for me beyond just something to fuck.” He said, voice solemn, “I… It is new. I was in a brothel, I told you, that broke part of me. Every time I look into your eyes, I know I’m coming together again, piece by piece.” A mischievous glint crossed her emerald eyes. “Well…” The Khajiit purred, running a claw down Latro's bare chest. “‘Something to fuck’ is just dessert with me. Let me put you back together again. Piece…” she leaned over to kiss his cheek, “by…” and finally, she playfully nibbled on his ear. “piece.” she breathed, her claw digging just a bit deeper to accentuate the point. “Let me show you just how much I care, how much I've needed you.” He sighed, feeling the shiver all through his body to have her so close to him again in so long. The breath on his ear sending his worries far away. Her claw pressed deeper and he couldn’t help but to quietly take in a sudden breath before he smiled, noticing finally something else, “You smell different.” He said, “Water lily?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Being devoid of intimacy tinged with lust like this had been something he missed for so, so long. As he grabbed her by the wrist and led them to the tent, he hoped the others would be too busy going about their own lives to notice the shape in his blousy Redguard trousers. They disappeared into the tent and he wasted no time in grabbing her hip with one hand and her cheek with the other. He pressed her body against his, deeply kissing her almost without patience. He pushed against her until they were on their bedroll. He looked into her eyes, finding peace there, and… [i]other feelings[/i], “The brothel might have been uncomfortable for me, but I learned a lot there. It would be healing of its own to use it now on somebody I care for, whom I love,” he leaned in closer, his lips tickling at the edge of her ear as he said in a growling whisper, “All of it.” “They hurt you, in ways I cannot imagine.” Daro'Vasora replied, leaning in for a passionate kiss. Suddenly, she pushed against Latro off of her and on his back, pinning him as she straddled his waist, smirking at his obvious attention. Breaking the kiss and sitting upright, she unbuttoned her tunic, tossing the waist belt to the side before carelessly discarding her shirt, exposing her bare torso to him. “It does not mean they own this act, nor the one who I have chosen as mine.” The Khajiit wasted no time leaning back over, playfully biting his collarbone. “Hey… you have a good sense of scent, but you never noticed my hair.” she teased under her breath. Though he couldn't see it, an impish grin bared her teeth. “You know, you aren't the first person to get me out of my clothes today.” she teased in a sultry tone. “Oh?” Latro’s brows went up as he smiled, biting his lip and wriggling under his lover, pressing each other closer as he did. He trusted Sora to not have done anything too unfaithful, and the sight of her legs on either side of him and her bare chest was erasing any worrying about when he could pull her onto him, “Tell me more.” “Well…” her voice trailed off as she began to trace patterns on his chest. “Raelynn and I had ourselves a productive and very proper discussion that somehow lead us to finding ourselves in a hidden spring, and the next thing you know, we fall in without anything on, how indecent!” she said in mock shock before smirking. “She just happened to have some nice oils that she worked into my fur, and that's why you picked up on some water lilies, and she just braided my hair. How's it look?” she asked, tilting her head so the short ponytail came around the side. “It looks beautiful,” he said, letting her ponytail run along his palm until the ends of it brushed upon his chest, making the small hairs of his arms stand on end, “[i]You[/i] look beautiful. More and more everyday.” He then ran his hands along her tight stomach and upwards, “It’s been so long since we’ve done this.” He smiled, “I meant what I said. That I was going to show you everything I learned.” “Well,” she replied, her hand inching dangerously down his abdomen, “let's start with the first lesson.”