[center][h3]The Choices We Make[/h3] By Morty & [@Greenie][/center] [hr] [I]18th of Midyear, late morning, Alik’r Desert tent village[/I] It was somewhat shameful, but when Megana Corvus woke up the day after the prison break; the sun would soon be nearing its zenith and it was more than clear from the sounds of people outside her tent that most folk had been awake for quite a few hours. Groaning piteously and holding her head with both hands, she pleaded with Stendarr to have mercy on her throbbing head. Tea with Sevari had been nice, drinking rum with Gaius had been nice… having a stupid bet with the locals in a hookah den that she could down more drinks than they could had been stupid. She hadn’t won, and now she was nursing a dreadful hangover with lighter pockets than before. Swaying as she slowly pulled herself up to a seated position, the Nord reached around with a hand, patting away at the ground until she found her shirt, carelessly dropped on the dusty ground in her drunken stupor. [I]This is m'tent… righ’?[/I] A moment of panic had her standing up suddenly- the next instance she stumbled and moaned, head hanging and arms pressing against the sides, shirt still dangling from her hand in her face. The smell of smoke and drink filled her nostrils and she let out another groan, this one of pity and disgust. She really needed to control her inhibitions. After a good while of freshening up and managing to find another shirt to wear, Meg guzzled down some water before finally heading out of her tent, eyes lowered against the light. She didn't quite feel hungry… or rather she felt as if she'd probably throw up anything she attempted to eat, so for the time being her mission was to simply survive, and hopefully find Jaraleet. She hadn't seen him since their arrival at the village, and truth be told he had seemed withdrawn even after the escape from the prison. Meg had been preoccupied with the entertainment the previous night, but with regret looming heavily on her senses, she hoped to find him and see how he was doing. Unfortunately for the Nord woman, Jaraleet had withdrawn from the village almost immediately afterwards the celebrations had started. In truth, the Argonian hadn’t been in any kind of festive mood after their successful escape from the prison; what they had seen in the Necromancer’s room, plus the confrontation between Sevari and Gregor, had left the Argonian with plenty to think over. And so, like he often did when he needed to think, the assassin had found himself falling into the training exercises that had been ever-present in his life since he had been handed over to the An-Xileel. “[i]Through fields you till,[/i]” The assassin intoned in Jel as he lunged with his sword, “[i]Through broken earth,[/i]” he continued on with the follow-up move. “[i]Through crops that you will grow,[/i]” Jaraleet followed up, his breath heavy with the strain of exercise. “[i]Honor that which is change.[/i]” So absorbed was he in his training and his recitation, that the normally keen eyed Argonian didn’t notice when Meg found him in the middle of his training routine. “There y'are!” It had taken a while to find the Argonian, though probably not as difficult as it would have been if he was any other race. Meg paused a little ways away from Jaraleet, seeing he was absorbed in his training, though that did not stop her from speaking up. It was a shame she was still hard harbouring the remnants of her hangover, because otherwise she wouldn't have been amiss to a sparring session. “Didn't see much of ya last nigh’,” she continued, pushing her messy hair away from her eyes- it was still damp from her attempt of dunking her head in water to clear her fuzzy mind. “Doin’ a'ight?” Jaraleet paused as he heard Meg addressing him, his stance visibly relaxing as he turned to look at the Nord woman. “Hmmm, I didn’t feel in a celebratory mood truth be told.” He said to her, a look of concern briefly settling in his face as he noticed the poor state that Meg was in. “I am, more or less. Didn’t had much sleep last night, truth be told, but I’m used to that kind of things.” He said as he approached her, frowning slightly. “You don’t look too good yourself.” “Wha’, me? I'm fine!” The declaration was only hampered by a little bit of sheepishness, knowing that despite her change of clothes, she did probably still look like a mess. However, she wasn't quite concerned with her state right now, a frown on her own face to rival his. “And I’m Sanguine in disguise.” The Argonian replied drily to her comment that she was fine, shaking his head slightly. “Did you overdo it with the drinking?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in the direction of the Nord woman. Meg let out a begrudging huff. “Maybe a li'l. What about you?” Ya didn’ feel like celebratin’?” From what she recalled, everyone had been taking a break from dour moods, enjoying the music and laughter and general happy vibes. Even the Khajiit man she had deemed scary had seemed in a celebratory mood of sorts… so why not Jaraleet? “No, I didn’t.” He replied, somewhat bluntly, to her question about not feeling like celebrating. “What's the matter?” Hands at her hips, she looked up at the Argonian, a decisive look on her face. “Just got a lot of things on my mind to process at the moment.” He answered. It wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. “Is it really all that surprising that I didn’t felt like partying after all we’ve been through?” “Well, kinda?” Meg let her arms fall loose as she approached the Argonian man, her expression no longer annoyed, the frown on her face shifting to one of concern. “Everyone was happy t'get outta there, not jus’ alive but with Alim an’ Sirine's brother, an’ we even foun’ Gaius an’ Fjolte of all people!” A hint of a smile came to her face at the Nord she had never expected to see again, but it left as she focused on Jaraleet once more. “So… why not you? Wha’ is botherin’ ya?” Jaraleet smiled at Meg, touched by her concern, and pulled her into a quick embrace. “I’m fine.” He muttered as he hugged her, letting go of her a second afterwards. “I’m just...worried about what the future holds. And some things I saw while in the prison.” He admitted, letting out a soft sigh. “Guess I’m a bit different from the rest. I’m not used to partying, truth be told.” He said, letting out a soft, self-deprecating, chuckle. “We dunno what the future's gonna bring,” Meg replied quietly. She had been surprised by the spontaneous hug though not averse, and a little disappointed it had ended so quickly. “Tha’s why we gotta take the chance t'enjoy when it shows itself, no? Gettin’ out of there, alive with our friends…” She nudged him, a small smile on her lips. “If ya don’ know how t'party, I'm sure y'can learn.” “Hmmm, I never said I don't know how to cut loose, you know.” He replied, smiling softly in her direction. “I'm just not used to partying all that much. And I wasn't in too much of a mood to do so, like I said previously.” He added after a second. “And I'm sorry, for worrying you I mean.” Jaraleet said softly, placing his hands on her shoulder and giving them a light squeeze. “So y’said,” she agree, letting out a breath. “Min’ tellin’ me why y’weren’ in the mood then? What did y’see there?” Meg didn’t expect him to be shaken by anything, not after Gilane. “The lair of a Necromancer.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm not shaken, if you are thinking about that….it was more the…” The Argonian said, pausing for a second as he thought how to explain himself. “The cleanliness of it all, I suppose. The place was equal parts a laboratory, I suppose, and a butcher shop where the prisoners were sent to be processed. It wouldn't surprise me if that's where the Dwemer got their means to power their automatons and other war machines.” Jaraleet said, pausing for a second to allow Meg to process what he had just told her. “It left me thinking, and without much of a mood to celebrate.” “I’ve seen ‘em b’fore,” Meg replied after a moment of silence. “In Skyrim… sometimes me an’ J’raij would stumble on ‘em. Dunno ‘bout… ‘em bein’ clean though. Filthy, bloody. We were lucky they were abandoned.” Her face looked disgusted just thinking of the sight and smell, and what sort of horrible people could go through with doing such vile deeds. She let out a sigh, reaching out to pat Jaraleet’s arm. “I can see why y’wouldn’ wanna join in… jus’... hm.” Her lips were pressed tightly as she tried to think of what to say. “Y’don’ havta keep things in, y’can talk about ‘em. If not t’me, then t’others. Like Sevari? He’s yer friend.” She recalled the chat with the large Khajiit, her frown softening a little. “If anyone’s gonna know how y’feel, it’d prob be him. He did say y’both came from the same world.” Jaraleet smiled at Meg’s words, nodding slightly. “You are right, I can talk with him. Like he said, we both come from the same world.” The Argonian said, chuckling softly. “Like you said, if anyone gonna know how I feel, it’s probably him.” He said, pausing for a second as a thought crossed over his mind. “And you, you do seem to have a knack for knowing how I feel.” He added with a small smirk. “Well o’course I do,” Meg replied, sounding a little grumpy. She crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a sigh and shaking her head. “Y’should know by now I would. Ain’t like we’re friend’s or somethin’.” There was a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice, though she did manage a chuckle afterwards, relaxing her stance. “So don’ tell me, ye’ve jus’ been fightin’ with yer shadow since we got here? Didja eat an’ sleep at least?” “I know, I know.” Jaraleet replied, smiling fondly at Meg. He chuckled sheepishly when she asked him if he had at least eaten or gotten some sleep. “Can’t say I did.” He admitted, knowing full well that the Nord woman would probably be less than pleased by his admission. “Honestly, it’s fine, I’m used to this. I swear.” He added after a second, hoping that Meg wouldn’t be too mad at him. “Hmph.” Meg’s little frown returned and she shook her head even more vehemently than before, short messy locks bouncing as she did. “Tha’ ain’t good enough. I don’ think it'll kill ya t'take a break an’ head back t'get some food an’ rest. 'Sides, I'm sure the others'll wanna know yer doin’ fine too.” “Believe me, I know my limits. And I’m nowhere near them right now.” He said reassuringly, chuckling mirthlessly when she mentioned that the others would probably want to know that he was doing fine too. “Do you really think so? I’m not exactly the most popular member of our little group.” “Y’don’ havta wait ‘til y’reach yer limits t’take a break,” Meg snapped, shoving the toe of her boot hard against the ground. She huffed before shaking her head yet again, this time less vigorously than before- her head still hurt and she really didn’t think it would help the way she was feeling. “Sorry.” Letting out a loud sigh, she then took a calming breath before continuing. “I’m just still feelin’ the remainin’ hangover… that bein’ said… I think yer wrong. I think more people like ya than y’think.” “Alright, alright, how about I take a break now, and get something to eat with you. Does that sound alright to you?” The Argonian finally relented when Meg snapped at him, placing one hand on her shoulder. “If you are still hungover, it probably wouldn’t hurt to get something to eat, and probably some water to drink as well.” He added, a note of concern on his voice. “Yeah well… you should too,” Meg replied, still sounding rather grumpy. “So yeah” She did find herself somewhat peckish now, and if it finally force the Argonian to let down his 'hair’, she was ready to be appeased as well. It was strange, she wasn't sure why it annoyed her so much that he seemed so self-depreciative when at times- no, it was most times- she felt the same about herself. Attempting a smile, she reached up and took hold of the hand on her shoulder, removing it from there but keeping a hold of it nonetheless. She motioned with her head towards the tent village. “C’mon then. They have some pretty good food.” “You don’t need to keep convincing me. I already said I’d go.” The Argonian replied, chuckling fondly. He smiled as Meg motioned towards the village, “Then lead the way, I haven’t been around it too much so it’s probably for the best that you show me around.” “A’ight then.” Leading the way back to the masses of tents and through the makeshift streets were no big feat for Meg, not after her ventures the previous night, even though much of it had been passed in tiredness or a drunken stupor. Now that she was awake and somewhat focused, she could appreciate the simple beauty of life here, reminding her of stories she would hear from passing by Alik’r warriors when she was much younger. She had found them so strange yet fascinating, and it had been hard to imagine such a large expanse filled with only sand. Not so any longer. As she continued forward, her eyes caught sight of the teahouse she had visited with Sevari, and the conversation between the two loomed in her mind. “What did he mean?” she wondered aloud, looking at Jaraleet. “Bein’ from the same world?” Jaraleet was silent for a second before he let out a sigh. “We are both assassins, spies.” He said, looking at Meg in the eyes. “In our world, we are just tools. As easily as discarded as a blade that dulls. That’s what he meant when he said that we are from the same world.” “Well tha's jus’ wrong,” Meg replied sullenly. She didn't like- no, she couldn't [I]stand[/I] such a thought. Everyone had a life, everyone was an individual with feelings. Treating people like they were just to be used and thrown away like a worn item was disgusting and sad in her opinion, and she couldn't think how anyone could make her change her mind about the matter. “Yer no tool! Yer a person, jus’ like me! Sevari is a person too.” Her lips pressed tightly after that, unsure she would be able to control her words. [i]But that’s what I am, Meg. What I’ve been all my life, and I accept this.[/i] The Argonian thought inwardly, opting to keep silent by how Meg had reacted to what he had said. “If you are thinking something, you know you can tell me, right?” He said as he pulled her a little closer to him, squeezing her hand softly. “Please, tell me what you are thinking.” Gritting her teeth in an attempt to stay rational and not overly emotional, Meg remained quiet for a good moment before finally speaking once again. “It jus’ doesn’ seem fair,” she finally muttered. “Everyone's gotta choice… everyone [I]should [/I]have a choice. D’you… wanna stay what y'are? Be a tool?” “I….” Jaraleet began, falling silent as he pondered Meg’s question. “It is...a difficult question for me to answer.” He admitted finally, letting out a sigh. “This life is all I’ve known for as long as I remember.” Jaraleet said, shaking his head slightly. “Truth be told, I can’t answer your question. What [i]I[/i] want is something I’ve had not much chance to ponder.” “A li'l change never hurt anyone.” She paused in her steps and let out a sigh. Perhaps it was easy for her to say, she had never really been a stagnant sort; as soon as she had found herself growing weary of life in Whiterun, she had left for adventure. But not everyone was like her, as she had discovered time and time again in the last couple of months. It seemed despite the difficulties and lack of a mother she had endured as a child, things weren't all that bad. She smiled a little. “'It is good t’be brave’, that's a Khajiit sayin’, learned it yesterday. An’ I gotta say, change needs a person t'be brave…” She licked at her dry lips, wondering if she was saying too much now. “It's yer choice anyway.” She abruptly changed the subject, pointing to a stall where a sweet and bready scent was coming. “How's ‘bout we try some of that?” “One last thing, before we go in there.” Jaraleet said as he pulled Meg a little closer to him. “Thank you Meg, for what you said.” He told her, pulling her into an unexpected hug. “I think...I think that if I had a choice, I’d like to stay with you.” He said quietly, letting go of Meg after a moment. “Come, let’s go in there.” He added, motioning to the stall with his head before he guided Meg there. “Ain’ like I'm goin’ off anywhere,” the Nord woman replied, somewhat molified by the hug she received. She knew very well there was still much she didn't know, but now wasn't the time to go into that. Smiling genially, she nodded. “I'm here, rain or shine- or snow if yer in Skyrim.” Pulling her money pouch from her belt, she held it out for the Argonian to take. “Here, we can use whatever's left.” “Thank you.” Was Jaraleet’s simple reply as he accepted her money pouch, making his way into the stall with Meg and ordering for the two of them. Like he had told Meg, there was much he had to think about but, right now, he could enjoy a meal with her and her company. Whatever doubts he had could wait after that.