[h3]Divergence.[/h3]


[i]Evening, 17th Midyear
Alik’r Desert, Hammerfell[/i]

[hr]

[indent]It had been such a long day, and as it was winding down for her, she listened to the music and merriment of the festival that had been going on all day. The fact that Raelynn was fresh from bathing deterred her from wanting to go out just yet. She was also exceptionally tired, spending time with the group and having to force herself to be overly cheerful was just not an attractive prospect. Besides, Raelynn’s absence amongst the partygoers would be noted by Gregor. He would know where to find her. 

[i]They needed to talk.[/i]

Try as she might, Raelynn had not been able to source a tent far enough from the noise as she would have liked. She could hear the obnoxiously loud bellowing laugh of Fjolte echoing around the oasis from somewhere - even above the sound of the music and crashing of drums. She shook her head and exhaled through her nose, enjoying the gentle breeze that was rolling in periodically from outside. Dusk in the desert was incredibly beautiful, the sky was ablaze with contrasting colours of peach and mauve, like slices of amethyst. Every now and then she would turn her head to catch a glimpse of it from the gap in the parting of the door. She was also waiting somewhat anxiously for Gregor’s arrival.

The tent she had chosen was at least larger than that which they had stayed previously. It was still no inn room though, but now they had room to stretch, and keep their belongings inside. It was more than a glorified piece of muslin cloth over some poles. She had made somewhat of a [i]home[/i] out of it this time, winding her own silken scarves around the poles to add flashes of colour inside. A rectangular wooden board on the ground acted as a table for a few candles, flowers, and her jewellery. She’d found a small wooden crate to place her potion bottles, she lined them up beside a small pile of her books. A copper plate displayed a modest looking fruit platter. Even their bedroll was bigger. Having worked her fingers to the bone for the healers had provided privileges for her in sourcing more comforts...

She lay on her side in the tent in naught but a silken robe for her clothing. The almost sheer, lilac piece was cinched tightly at the waist with a thin line of the very same material, tied into a bow. [i]Deliberately chosen[/i] The back of the robe was drooping over her shoulders, and a select few wisps of hair that were not held up in her bun were flowing in soft waves against her dewy, bare skin. [i]Intentionally revealing[/i] The soft scent of lavender filled the tent, joined by the earthy scent of an incense cone she had lit in the corner that Fjolte had given her after their meditation. [i]A sensual atmosphere she had created with purpose.[/i] He said it would help her to stay relaxed, it seemed to be working. Raelynn’s lungs were still burning somewhat, and despite the bath she could feel a mild stinging in her eyes.

She traced a finger gently across her collarbones in an absent-minded fashion as she turned the pages of the book she had suddenly become rather engrossed in, a book from the [i]Investigator Vale[/i] collection. It wasn’t her usual choice of literature, but strangely she found herself enjoying it a little bit [i]too[/i] much. “It’s obviously the florist you fool…” she muttered under her breath as she turned another page, smirking when she turned out to be correct. She wanted to look busy, to look relaxed, to look [i]unbothered.[/i] 

The tent flap opened and Gregor stepped inside the tent. He, too, had refreshed himself and his linen shirt clung to his still-damp chest. His long, dark hair was down and cascaded to his shoulders in waves. He looked at Raelynn with a small smile around his lips and his eyes immediately followed the curves of her body, visible beneath the fabric of her robe, with palpable approval, lingering on the bare skin she artfully displayed. He didn’t say anything as he joined her on the bedroll, propping up his head on his elbow, and glanced at the pages of the book she was reading. Seeing nothing of interest, he turned his head to look at the row of black soul gems he had neatly placed above their headrest. There were five of them in total and each twinkled with the essence of the soul within, but the gem in the middle stood out the most -- it was the opaque gem, black as ink, that contained the Dwemer executioner’s corrupted spirit. It was so dark that it almost felt like it would trap his mind there forever if he stared at it too long. Gregor averted his gaze and found himself staring into Raelynn’s eyes, blue as the glacial ice of Skyrim’s northernmost shores. They undeniably had a similar effect. 

“Hello,” he said at last, his voice soft and deep, a low purr in the back of his throat. “Enjoying yourself, I see?”

Raelynn’s gaze instinctively lifted from the pages of the book as Gregor entered. His presence was immediately felt too. Whatever he was feeling, it was hanging like a storm cloud around him, bringing darkness and a heavy tension. Despite it, there was no restraint she could have mustered to reel in the expression she displayed upon seeing his hair out of it’s usual knot. [i]He looked even more attractive.[/i] She blinked up at her Imperial in surprise before smiling - forgetting the purpose for her orchestrated scene altogether at the sight of him. “Somewhat, yes.”

She wasn’t the only thing he was looking at. It was as if with his entrance, the energy that the gems possessed amplified more so. A stab of insecurity pierced her chest and she swallowed, dropping her eyes back upon the last of the words on the page. She wasn’t taking them in, but he didn’t need to know that. At the sight of the final full stop on the page, she looked up to him again. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you today. My hands have been kept hard at work...” Raelynn turned to place the book on the ground behind her, brushing a hand up his arm when she turned back. 

“Well, here I am,” Gregor replied, glancing aside to look at how her hand was caressing his arm before he turned his attention back to her eyes. He inched closer to her and placed a hand of his own on her hip, making small circles with his thumb while his fingers pressed into her skin a little through the thin fabric of her robe. She was beautiful and so attractive like this, it was hard to think straight. He forgot all about the things he’d expected her to say about the things that happened in the prison. “I hope your hands still have some time and energy left for me,” he added with a boyish smirk. 

“Well of course, that goes without saying…” she purred, placing her own hand on top of his, interlacing her fingers with his to stop his motions before he got too carried away - before they [i]both[/i] did. Raelynn tilted her head to the side with a serious expression so that his eyes would follow and he would focus on her words. “But maybe there are things we can catch up on first?” She leaned up towards him to place an innocent kiss on his cheek as a belated greeting, her lips curled to a more content smile and she released his hand - unable to resist running her fingers through his hair after all… 

“How very decent of you,” Gregor said, his voice tinged with amusement. All of the recent excitement had made him impatient and he was briefly overcome with a strong, visceral urge to [i]desecrate[/i] her when he cast his gaze over Raelynn’s body again, but he inhaled sharply to focus himself and forced his eyes back to hers. The way she played with his hair made him smile. “Very well. What’s kept you so busy?”

She kept her eyes on Gregor, even as his own gaze pulled away from her eyes to her body. There was a strong air of masculinity about him, that was different than usual. She could sense it, and it caught her off guard. It was the damned soul gems, it had to be. “I was in the healers tents most of the day, and then I spent some time with Daro’Vasora and Fjolte. I needed a break from staring at infections…” she sighed. “But that’s not what really what I wanted to talk about…” she let the last word hang in the air, before pulling her hand away from him and back to her own side. 

Ah, there it was. The unresolved business and the tension that came with it. Gregor moved his hand from her hip to her lower back and moved even closer to Raelynn, so close that he almost looked straight down on her and cast her face in his own shadow. He felt a twinge of annoyance at the delay in gratification and wanted to deny her the comfort of having some distance between them. “Fire away, my love.”

“Gregor,” she said with a smile as she watched his hand travel again. She'd pushed him just enough to be antsy, made him wait long enough. Her eyes flashed with delight at her own deviousness. “I don’t think you're going to listen…” She looked back up to him, placing her hand on his own thigh, tracing her fingers so gently until she stopped and took it away again. “Is… [i]this[/i],” she shrugged her shoulder, freeing more flesh from the robe with ease, “what you want?” The Breton hooked her finger under his chin, as if she was going to pull him to her, but she moved to him instead, brushing her lips against his. “Do you want me?” she asked in as soft a breath as she could, her eyes closed.

If he had been able to keep his mind clear, Gregor would have realized that this had been part of Raelynn’s little game all along -- but the briefest touch of her lips against his and the way she shrugged off her robe was too intoxicating for such levels of awareness. “Gods, yes,” he muttered and kissed her, passionately and deeply, while his hands were all over her in a flash, untying the cinch around her waist as fast as he could. 


[hr]

After Gregor had extracted himself from their embrace to grab a towel and wash his face in the bowl of water he looked over his shoulder at Raelynn with a boyish smile while he put his hair up again. “We should do that more often,” he suggested casually and bent over to grab his pants off the floor. 

“It feels like we barely get time too… Ever since the Palace…” She did not feel the need to dress, and instead simply draped one of their blankets over her body, her head resting on her hand as her elbow propped her up. She was going to allow him time to get comfortable again - he seemed suitably pleased with himself, and less agitated than he had been. He was love drunk. It was a good time for her to release some things from her chest. Her eyes were drawn to the gems above the head of the bedroll. “That's the good thing about festivals, they're loud and take care of those who may intrude…” Her mind wandered to Jaraleet again, and she chuckled quietly. 

Gregor nodded. His gaze, too, wandered to the opaque crystals he had taken from the prison. He had put on his pants but decided to remain shirtless. He absent-mindedly rubbed the skin of his arm where the image of a broken soul gem had been tattooed into it while he stared. Catching himself, Gregor laid himself down next to Raelynn and smiled at her. “And what would they be intruding on now, hm? Do I have to take these pants off again?”

The temptation was real for her too, but there were more important things on her mind. “I'm afraid you've worn me out for the time being…” she smirked and raised an eyebrow in his direction, almost as if she was scolding him but there was no real malice there. “Actually my love, I wanted to talk with you… [i]discreetly[/i].” Raelynn gently ran a finger over his arm as she spoke. He'd never denied her a conversation before after all. 

So there was no escaping it after all. Gregor had to admit that Raelynn had been kind enough to indulge him; the least he could do was acquiesce to her request now. His smile only faltered ever so slightly before he regained his composure. “Go on, sweetheart. Ask your questions. I know you have them.”

“When Fjolte and I came back… Something had happened with Sevari. I… Gregor, what happened in that room?” She asked, concern in her eyes, her hand resting against his arm now demonstrating the concern physically. “I mean, something [i]really[/i] happened in there, I could practically taste it…” 

The atmosphere in the room became almost perceptibly colder while Raelynn talked and within seconds, the firewood warmth of love in Gregor’s eyes had been replaced by the charcoal chill of pride. All of Raelynn’s work in placating and softening Gregor appeared to be undone in an instant. 

“You saw what happened,” Gregor said and frowned. “You heard what Rourken said. You saw what this elf-spawn,” Gregor continued, pausing to pick up the Dwemer’s pitch-black soul gem, “did in there.” Raelynn had held it when he had asked her to, but he also remembered that she’d used the moment to wrap her fingers around his hand instead. Gregor pushed the gem into Raelynn’s hand now, denying her the choice to avoid the monster that lay trapped within, clasped her fingers around it and pressed it against her chest. “Feel,” he commanded. 

The minute it made contact with her chest she felt it. It was as though it was going to tear a hole through her flesh. She recoiled immediately but he was holding it so firmly against her that she couldn't escape it. Fjolte's warning to her to avoid anything of the arcane and to take her time flooded her mind. “Gregor…!” she gasped out in a strained rasp of a voice, her eyes wide with absolute terror. It was poison, vibrating against her. Her hands trembled even under his grip and she lost her words. They sat in her throat like bile. She was completely vulnerable to the dark energy within the gem and she was feeling it through every fibre of her being. From the look in Gregor's eyes  he had been poisoned by it too.

“I… can feel it,” she hissed through gritted teeth finally. “Get it off me!” she tried to push back against him as she said it, barely able to stand it anymore. 

Satisfied with Raelynn’s reaction, Gregor pulled his hand and the gem away from Raelynn and put it back where it belonged. “Then you already know what happened. There was a monster in that room. I took his soul when Sirine killed him, for such a beast should not be allowed an afterlife. Sevari… took offense. It was pathetic, really,” he explained, his voice cold and utterly without sympathy. “He pointed a pistol at my head and couldn’t even pull the trigger. Zaveed took it away from him and he stormed out, impotent and upset.” Gregor shrugged.  

She took a while to catch her breath, feeling incredibly disoriented from the gem, it didn't stop her from panting out after his next answer; “what? He tried to kill you?” pain in her expression fell away, replaced with visible upset. She reached forwards again to touch him comfortingly. “Were you hurt?” She hadn't seen an injury on him, but perhaps he just hadn't wanted to talk about it. “I should never have left you… I'm sorry,” Raelynn whispered with a hand on his chest. 

Gregor scoffed. “Of course I wasn’t hurt. Sevari is no threat to me. What do you take me for?” He shook his head at Raelynn but his condescension was swiftly followed by a hint of admiration. “You should have seen Zaveed, though. He was so [i]eager[/i] to swoop in and save the life of the man that almost murdered him. You trained him well. He might make a fine lap dog one day.”

“You know that I know how strong you are, doesn't stop me worrying about you…” she said with a smile, even though his words were worrying here. The vacancy in his eyes was about to make her nervous if he didn't settle down soon. She chose not to bite at his comment about Zaveed, although it was of interest to her that he had stepped in. “And now… you have more souls…” her eyes glanced back towards them, so heavy and present it was as if they were actual people sitting in the tent with the two of them. It was like mirrored voyeurism and it unnerved her the longer she looked at them sat their in a row. “We need to be more careful… To protect your secret…” 

“They’ll be gone soon,” he said as he followed Raelynn’s gaze. “Tonight.” There was a heavy note of finality to his words, as if it was a decision that Gregor had made only then and there. He observed Raelynn carefully, curious to see what her reaction would be. Would she be happy for him? 

It felt like a deadline. Up until now it had just been discussed. The event they talked about that would never come. It would always be one more soul. Was that what he he had meant? Did he believe this to be the last ritual? Suddenly the fingers of the hand on his chest clasped at it. “Are you sure?” she asked, her eyebrows drooped with uncertainty. “This is the one?” her voice wavered just as it had in the prison. She couldn't conceal her trepidation as well as she would have liked. 

Gregor shook his head and placed his own hand over hers. “No, I’m not sure, but… don’t you think it’s time? After what the Ideal Master said last time, and now with such a bountiful and worthy sacrifice?” Gregor looked at the soul gem of the Dwemer soul-trapper again and marveled at its darkness. “His soul is steeped in the suffering he is responsible for. It shall delight them, I’m sure.”

She looked away. He was right, it was an exceptional soul to hand to them on a platter. “I always thought it would take us a lot longer… I” she fumbled on the words, looking over at the gem in all its abysmal glory. “When it happens… you'll be changed but I will remain the same…” She brought her hands around her middle, as if she had caught a chill. “What will you be… after?” she asked finally. She wanted to ask him [i]who[/i] he would be more than anything. It made her feel small to be so vulnerable. But this was Gregor afterall. She looked it too, shoulders hunched as she hugged herself in an attempt to quash the deep insecurity seated within. 

Merely bringing up the topic was enough to stir something within Gregor and he moved on top of Raelynn, hovering over her and forcing her to turn on her back to look up at him. The semicircle of soul gems almost looked like a crown on Raelynn’s golden head from that angle and Gregor leaned in until his face was only an inch from hers, his left hand suddenly around her throat and the nails of his right hand dragging over the skin of her hips, exploiting the nakedness of her form beneath him. “I shall be deathless,” he whispered, the black voids that were his eyes staring intently into hers. “I will gather more souls to save my brother and my sister and make them eternal too, like my father wanted.” The grip of his hand around her throat tightened -- loose enough for her to breathe, but strong enough for her to feel the tautness of his tendons in her flesh. “The Dwemer will know me as their reaper. And you…” He kissed her again while he pried her knees apart and imposed himself on her again, wilfully ignoring her insecurity. It didn't matter to him; she only had to know that he owned her. “You will be by my side to love me, take care of me, [i]satisfy me…[/i] and I will keep you safe,” he finished, a ravenous hunger in his voice.

“Stop it,” she breathed out in a croak from within the grip around her throat, she pressed a knee against him to get him to move. She was not in the mood for his usual dominating arousal after she had opened herself up like this. That, and his answer did nothing to make her feel reassured that their relationship would be the same after he'd changed. She pushed gently against his chest, away from her. “I'm more than that… [i]You're[/i] more than that to me…” she said again, her free hand grasping at the blanket to cover herself. Suddenly wondering if tonight had just been about… satisfying him, and nothing more. “Gregor, please…” she finished, narrowing her eyes in his direction. 

Gregor's eyes flashed and he abruptly pulled back from her when she resisted. All the indignation and vindication he'd felt since the prison bubbled over now, an overwhelming and destructive conviction that the whole world could lick his boots, and when Raelynn didn't give him what he wanted, that world suddenly included her. “You are what I tell you to be,” he snapped, ice cold, and he got to his feet. The fading light of dusk illuminated him from behind as it poured into the tent through the flap and the shadow that fell over his features was almost unnaturally thick. 

“You were scared of me in the prison. Now you're scared again. What are you afraid of? That you can no longer control me and use me after I've changed?” Gregor pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You never could, Raelynn. I do what I want, whenever I want it. You're mine because I will it,” he hissed. 

It was the gem, she knew it. It was so corrupt that it was causing him to act out in this way. Maybe once it was about control, maybe sometimes even now it was. But that wasn’t why she was scared. He didn’t deserve the truth when he was being so vitriolic, it would go over his head now. She brought herself back up to her knees and reached out a hand towards him. “Please, just take a breath. You’re getting too incensed, don’t say something you’ll regret…” she was trying her hardest to remain calm herself, unsure of whether he was about to lash out or leave. Neither of those things were in any way ideal. “I was scared in the prison because you made yourself vulnerable. Bakih and Fjolte didn’t know your secret and [i]now they do[/i]. That puts you in danger. That’s why I was scared.”

“Vulnerable,” he repeated. “Wasn't I right to take that butcher's soul? Am I not right to seek the safety and dignity of my siblings? You said it yourself, I'm not a monster. I shouldn't have anything to fear from these people. Sevari was stopped by his own brother. What's the rest going to do? Nothing.” He paused and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Or they can die. It's all the same to me. To [I]us[/I]. Because you're with me, not with them. Right?” 

She could feel fear rising in her her chest as he spoke, he wasn’t settling down and she couldn’t understand how they’d gone from being love drunk, to [i]this[/i]. He was being cruel. Her hands began to shake so she pulled them around herself again, wrapping the blanket entirely around herself - the chill in the air becoming so much. “Gregor…” She squeaked, surprising herself with her own pathetic mewling. “Of course I’m with you… And you are right, you are. I just want you to be safe. [i]Us[/i] to be safe.” Her tone was almost shrill as she held back her tears. Unsure of what else she could say to him. 

“We will be,” the Pale Reaper said in supreme confidence. “Have faith in your knight.” He knelt back down in front of Raelynn and cupped her cheek with his hand; a tender gesture undermined by the total lack of any visible empathy on his face. He leaned in closer and planted a kiss on her forehead, before he whispered in her ear.

“Don't question me again.”  

The way that he did that… it felt as though he was mocking her and she felt herself pushed back into a wall by him. As if she really was just a thing, just an object. He had been unable to see reason or listen - he barely resembled Gregor at all. Even the atmosphere he was creating was different, she couldn't stand it. The kiss on her forehead was cold and loveless… Without truly thinking, as he stooped down to her like that - the husk of Gregor, she brought her left hand up, and despite the fierce trembling she swung it around to meet his cheek with a resounding [i]thwack[/i]. Immediately she gasped in shock at her own actions, followed by a loud, ugly sob. 

For a moment it looked like the slap had brought Gregor back to his senses, but the slack-jawed and wide-eyed expression of surprise and regret turned into a loathsome scowl almost immediately. The Pale Reaper refused to muster the decency to be angry, or upset, or to show Raelynn any kind of validation and acknowledgement. He got to his feet without another word, finished dressing and grabbed some of his belongings that he would need for the ritual, including the five soul gems themselves. 

“Don't wait up for me, this might take a while,” he said as casually as if he was simply going for a haircut. 

Whatever anger she had been feeling was not dominating her now, just a strange feeling of regret as she watched him dress and pack away the soul gems. “It's not enough time…” she said in a pleading tone as she looked at him. The lack of reassurance from him was gnawing at her inside. She wanted to get up and grab him, to drag him away from the doorway of the tent until he at least gave her something. “I want more time!” she cried, hands fumbling over the ground to locate her robe to dress herself. 

“Just, just let's keep our wits about us. We can properly plan it… I can help you,” she slipped her arms into the robe and let it fall around her before she stood up, “we didn't - what if I can help you - help your family…? You have the soul gems… Give me time. Please.” Unlike Gregor, she was frantic and paced the tent, her hands reaching around the pile of books as if to find a miracle written within their pages. She knew it was futile, and she realised that the longer she scrambled around the more impatient he was going to become and his words came back to the front of her mind. She stopped. 

He watched her struggle and stumble over herself impassively and waited for a few seconds after she stopped before he said anything. “Everything will be fine,” the Pale Reaper said, slow as slow and calm as calm. “You don’t have to be afraid. I know what I’m doing. Haven’t you considered that when I am immortal, we will have all the time in the world?” He cocked his head at her and raised an eyebrow. 

“[i]You'll[/i] have all the time in the world,” she said quietly, composing herself. Crying and pleading had done nothing, and she was left with a feeling of humiliation for having acted in such a way. “And I'll live to satisfy you until I simply [i]don't.[/i]” Raelynn let her gaze drop to the ground. “You don't understand, and if you don't then maybe that's all I've been to you.” As she let the words fall, as she spoke them clearly into the night like that - she felt them too. 

Gregor took a deep breath and tensed up, balling his fists and clenching his jaw. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to more of your self-pity,” he said, scathing and audibly aggravated. There was more he could say, more of her failures and flaws to point out, but why waste his breath? He had more important things to do. He slung his backpack around his shoulders and stomped out of the tent, the flap obscuring him from sight. The sounds of his footsteps in the soft sands faded away into silence. 

He was gone. He was actually gone, he'd left like that. Without his presence holding her down, the slow simmering heat that had been her anger began to boil over. 

It started with the scarves. She ripped them from the tent poles, letting them fall to the ground one by one.  Behind her eyes a mixture of rage, humiliation, and heartbreak - they had combined to create an aggressive tantrum and she sniffled hard, her jaw clenched to the point of pain and a vein protruded from her neck under the pressure. She spun around to launch a foot against the wooden board, the sheer force of it extinguishing the candles and sending them tumbling down - wax spilling against sand and cloth. A mess. She dropped to her knees and grabbed at the flowers, shredding through them with her hands, tearing away at the petals like an incensed game of “he loves me not”. 

She reached for the plate and sent it flying out of the doorway of the tent with great force, the fruit falling around her. She grabbed at a pillow and held it over her face, screaming through it until her throat was hoarse and the anger had left her, leaving her with nothing but sorrow, alone in the darkness.

He was gone. Gregor was gone.[/indent]