Twin Moon’s Dance
Shaft & Dervs
18th Midyear 4E208, early evening, Alik’r camp…
The elixir was nearly prepared, the glistening of moon sugar in the mortar and pestle was carefully extracted with a metal spoon and melted over a candle, the tent flap open and the sugar was bathing in the light of Jone and Jode, preparing Daro’Vasora for her journey. It had been a few weeks since she’d last walked the Moonpath, but this time there wasn’t an anxiety or sense of obligation to do so; she genuinely wished to speak to her ancestors for guidance and to feel their comforting presence. Tonight was one such trail of discussion she wished to pursue, among other things.
A shadow came across the tent. Latro had returned.
“Hello, love; please do not block my moonlight.” The Khajiit said, concentrating on her task with a surgeon’s precision.
“Sorry.” Latro stepped inside the tent and took a seat inside, watching Sora prepare whatever it was. He wondered if he caught her at a bad time, he’d hate to sully her quiet moment alone, but there was no one else he trusted to talk to that wouldn’t immediately write him off as a crazed monster.
It didn’t change the fact he was scared of what had happened last night. All he remembered was anger, and words that were far away and not his own but in his voice that were crueler than anything he would say if he had control. And he didn’t. Perhaps that was what scared him most. It was like the Palace all over again, the Reach, Markarth Side. “Sora, I…” he struggled with the words, not knowing how to say this without scaring her, or perhaps there wasn’t, he looked at her with glistening eyes and a crack in his voice betrayed all his efforts, “I need to talk.” He caught himself, almost embarrassed, “But it can wait, I don’t want to interrupt you, I’m sorry.”
She caught the tone in Latro’s voice, looking up at her Reachman with a concerned look. “No, please, nothing is more important than making time for you when you need me. Last time you sounded this way was when we were captive in the palace.” Daro’Vasora said with a frown, taking a momentary glance to make sure the sugar was melting evenly. “I am almost done my preparations for the Moonpath. I was actually going to ask for your assistance in a few minutes, but it can wait. What’s wrong, Latro?” she asked.
“It’s getting worse, Sora.” He blurted, his head falling into his hands, “It happened again and I… I threatened Jaraleet. I was angry and it was like somebody else took my wrists and puppeted my tongue.”
“It was just an argument.” He said, looking at his hands, “But that day by the river, with my friend… that was just an argument too, and I killed him, Sora. I’m wrong, something is wrong and I’m so scared.”
He grit his teeth and his shoulders twitched as he choked back a sob, tears welling up and running down his cheeks. He wiped them on the back of his hands, “I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t want to hurt you.”
It took everything in Daro’Vasora’s control not to drop what she was doing and rush over. Instead, she carefully poured what she was melting back into the pestle and headed over to Latro, sitting next to him and pulling him close to her, running her hand through his hair. “I’d say it’s okay, but we both know that isn’t what you need to hear right now.” she said softly.
“The difference is today and back then is today you didn’t act on those impulses, you remained in control. There’s more you than Pale-feather in your mind, and that’s what we will hold onto and nourish. I promised you I wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how hard this becomes... you are unwell, that’s all. You’re still
you.” she said, leaning in to kiss his forehead tenderly. “You will never hurt me, I promise. Tell me what happened.”
Latro should’ve perhaps felt comforted at Sora’s reassurance, but he was not. It felt good to have her up against his own body, and though it felt like reaching into the mouth of a lion, he reached his arms around her and held her there. “That is my promise to make, Sora.”
He took a few breaths, “Sevari and Jaraleet…” Now this was but another issue coming to light, the matter of Gregor. But Sora needed to know that too. “They told me of Gregor. I felt betrayed, by Gregor and them as well, for keeping the knowledge from me for so long.”
“Things got heated, and in all the anger, I could feel myself ebb away from my own body. It hasn’t happened this bad since I was young, in the Reach.” He said, “I told them I would do horrible things.”
He wanted to squeeze Sora tighter but instead he gently but firmly pushed her away, wrapping about himself. His voice came as a whisper, a terrified thing, “And I know I could.”
“Latro.” Daro’Vasora said firmly, pulling his chin to face her. Her eyes locked to his, a resolute gaze upon him. “You are not Pale-feather, and if Pale-feather harms me, it isn’t.
You.” she said, stressing every word. “I will never blame you for that, and yes, I am scared of what could happen, of some monster in my lover’s body coming after me, but I know you’re still you and that’s what I will fight for.” she said, sighing suddenly and the intensity leaving her body. She pulled close to him, her arms wrapped around his as her head rested against his shoulder.
“I don’t know your past, not really, but I know enough. Do you want to know what’s different now, Latro?” She asked, intertwining her fingers in his own. “You were alone then, and now we will face this together, figure it out together. I love you, so damn much. Please don’t push me away… you need me as much as I need you.” she pleaded quietly, letting out a long sigh.
“Well, that just goes unsaid.” Latro tried at a smile as he nuzzled into Sora’s mane, “You’re the only one willing to deal with me.”
That earned a smile. “Well, you did write me a song. You wouldn’t do that just for any wanton lass, would you?” she teased, kissing his cheek as she held him in place for a few moments, her frown returning. “I don’t know what the future holds, Latro, but we’ll figure it out together.” her gaze returned to the pestle.
“I need to finish my elixir. I was going to ask your help, actually; I will walk the moonpath before tonight and I need you to keep watch over me. I need to ask my ancestors for guidance; I know about Gregor and his necromancy, I found out today. Raelynn asked me to call a meeting with people I trusted with this to have Gregor explain himself so we can decide what happens next.” she sighed, kissing Latro’s cheek. “I just need more perspective to know what I should do; this terrifies and infuriates me.”
“I know,” Latro smiled at Sora, touching her arm as she rose, “Just tell me what to do, Bluebird.”
She placed a hand over his own with a smile of her own. “Just look after me when I take the elixir. I’m not going to be here, and my body’s probably going to react so please don’t panic.” she said, stepping back to the pestle and candle, her attention back on melting the sugar into a vial.
“If there’s anything you want to know about this whole thing, this is as good of a time as any. I’d offer to share, but it wouldn’t work on you. You’d just have a euphoric high before crashing hard.” Daro’Vasora explained, carefully changing containers.
“Sounds like…” He frowned, thinking of his poppy-wine. It had been so long since he’d had any of it. “Sounds like something anybody could enjoy one way or another.”
He chuckled, and then looked at his lover quizzically, “React?”
Daro'Vasora winked over the vial at Latro. “Maybe if you're good, we can take some later for fun. You remember how Raelynn and Mazrah were at the party.” She said, corking the elixir and staring at it thoughtfully.
“I'll shake, wake up exhausted. Sweat, probably mutter some shit while under. That sort of thing, it's called a sugar fit. You see junkies in streets doing that kind of thing and to achieve the mental and spiritual state of being I require, it's a fucking powerful dose that would probably have someone who doesn't have a luxurious coat of fur shaking and hallucinating for three days.” She explained, smiling sweetly. “Crystalized divine energy is potent.”
“It sounds like it.” He muttered, watching Sora go about the preparations for whatever kind of ritual this was, “Is it like what happens after a Lone-Path or before a Witch-Mother reads the chicken guts or throws the fingerbones?”
The Khajiit blinked slowly. “Assume I'm the most ignorant woman of all time when I say I have no idea. I will say I haven't had to eviscerate poultry or cut off fingers for my ancestors. But you never know what Maakro-ra is going to do next… you know he's made me watch his death six times already?” She asked conspiratorially.
Latro chuckled sheepishly, “Like a seer, I mean,” he smiled, “Witch-Mothers and the like will take an elixir with seer’s caps and other herbs. They speak in tongues and writhe about and after that we have an answer to something we all had a hard time with.”
He shrugged, “They also give it to you when you come back from your Lone-Path. I never got to, though.”
“Ah.” The Khajiit replied, returning to Latro with the vial in hand. “Maybe it is like that, you'll have to let me know. One moment I feel myself getting faint and light headed before I am pulled into Jode's light. When I come back, I feel like I had the worst night of my life, like returning to a physical form makes you hyper-aware of how flawed and gross you are.” She held her hand out for him to return to his feet.
“And look, I don't know if it is something that would help, but I have some of the sugar left. Maybe if you are having another episode I could give you some? I'm not sure how I can help you when you feel the dark return.” She murmured quietly, looking away for the briefest of moments in shame.
“Hey,” Latro said as he got to his feet, putting a gentle hand on Sora’s cheek and guiding her eyes to his, “You help. More than you know, you help already. I still must consult with Mazrah on her idea.”
He kissed her gently and stepped back from her, “But we’ll talk on that after.”
She smiled sadly in turn. “Okay. Thank you, by the way. Let's go make a damned fool of myself.”
Daro’Vasora’s eyes opened, and all around her was the dark and endless abyss of stars and auroras dancing around the improbably suspended bridge she awoken upon, kneeling as she had when she had begun the ritual. Adorned in her familiar red gown, Daro’Vasora rose to her feet, feeling the warmth of the stone beneath the bare pads, the moonlight guiding her way. Before long, she ascended the stairs flanked by blue torchlight, the ethereal flames scattering shadows across the ancient masonry. When she reached the landing, the two Pahmar on the diases. She smiled, reaching up to stroke the one on the left’s head, being rewarded with a tilted head and a purr and she took the time to offer the same treatment to the one on the right.
“Hello, my friends. It has been some time.” Daro’Vasora said affectionately, looking towards the amphitheatre where her familiar ancestors already stood waiting, save for Shani-ko, the massive Senche-raht who laid easily on her flank, grooming herself with a torso-sized paw. In their customary spots were Maakro-ra, her Cathay ancestor who had been slain when Leyawiin was subjugated by the Empire eras ago, and Darenja the Intrepid, the Ohmes who had served Queen Ayrenn in the 3 Banners War. The two male ancestors stood, Maakro-ra with his arms crossed defensively much like Daro’Vasora was prone to do, and Darenja with his arms behind his back, a military posture being betrayed only by the elvish smile upon his face. Daro’Vasora found her place on the twin moons engraving on the floor and knelt, placing her hands upon her lap.
“Honoured ancestors, this one has returned to seek your wisdom in all things.” she said humbly, bowing her head in deference.
“Rise, Ma-Khajiit; it is good to see you again, and so soon.” Shani-ko said, her rumbling voice soothing as always. Daro’Vasora did as was instructed and looked her ancestors in turn; even Maakro-ra seemed to be of a pleasant disposition today. “What troubles you, Daro’Vasora?” the Senche-raht asked in a motherly tone.
Daro’Vasora gathered her thoughts, her hands folded behind her back as she looked up to the endless stars above before turning her gaze back to Shani-ko. “This one has been thrusted into a position of leadership with those she has mentioned before, and she has done her best to shoulder that mantle. These people have become Daro’Vasora’s friends, and she has taken a Reachman as her mate, but the path has always been uncertain, and it feels that no matter what choices this one makes, she is always making a mistake that gets someone hurt.” she explained with a heavy sigh.
“Latro, my Reachman, has had a long and troubled past that has torn his soul into two conflicting parts, like his own Dro-m’Athra dark spirit. This one has tried to reassure him the best she can, but Daro’Vasora knows that it is getting more difficult for Latro to contain Pale-feather.” she said uncomfortably, her hands wringing behind her and her foot scuffing the stonework below them. “She is afraid she will be hurt by him, but she is determined to not leave him in this darkness alone.
“There is another darkness in this group of companions that follows Daro’Vasora. She has learned this morning that the Imperial named Gregor, a man consumed by this hunger she could not explain was revealed to her to be a necromancer.” Daro’Vasora explained, her eyes narrowing. “She is a fool for not having seen it before, and she wonders how many people has this one unknowingly fed to this monster by tolerating his presence, to appease Raelynn, this woman who has become such a friend to this one, but she loves him.” the Khajiit sighed, bowing her head. “This one has affections towards her, not unlike what she feels towards Latro. She is still trying to understand these feelings, and she feels ashamed of herself for them.”
Maakro-ra spoke up, but his tone wasn’t the usual vitriolic bark she was used to when addressing her in previous visits. “Darkness consumes many in our lives, this one knows that all too well. Maakro-ra has considered what you had said in our previous meeting, and he has accepted that he perhaps has let hatred for the injustices he has suffered blind his judgement more than considering his love for you. This one is sorry that your choices have caused you pain and confliction.” he said softly, kneeling before her in solidarity. “Do you believe this Latro and Gregor can be redeemed?” he asked.
“She don’t know.” Daro’Vasora said, her voice cracking and tears filling her eyes.
“It seems that these people, your companions, have followed you for a reason, Daro’Vasora. If anyone can shine Jode and Jone’s light upon them, it is you. We have watched your struggles, often with a heaviness in our hearts, but it has always been so clear to us that your heart has been on the right path since we’ve last spoken. This Latro… he loves you, that is clear to Maakro-ra.” he said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his lion-like head. “It is that light that causes him to fight this dark spirit of his. If he slips, do not fear him or push him away; he will need you to find his light when his days go darkest.” the Cathay ancestor advised with a cautionary tone. “This one fears your road ahead will suffer far more pain and suffering, but he promises that it will not always be that way. Determination and patience, Daro’Vasora. They have served you will and will continue to do so.” he paused, shaking his head.
“The necromancer, however, this one cannot give you advice you may wish to hear. His kind is a blight to the natural order, how many Khajiit do you think have been denied the Moonpath or the Sands Behind the Stars because of their ilk?” Maakro-ra asked. “The Imperials have always fancied that dark perversion, and this one considers it fortunate he was not soul trapped when they took Leyawiin from Anequina.” the edge returned to his voice and he stood once more. “Do not suffer his presence, do not permit him to spread his corruption to the world. There is no justification for whatever set him down that path, but if one becomes powerful at the expense of another, they are a tyrant.”
“It is compassion that served you well in Anvil, Daro’Vasora.” Darenja interjected, his voice pronounced and proper, inflictions of Valenwood in his cadence. “When you came to us last, you were this close,” his finger and thumb were held up, an inch apart. “To abandoning these people who would become your friends, this man you took as your lover. You would have hated yourself if you had one that, and this new Aldmeri Dominion might have had them in chains or killed in the streets like your friend Rhea. While I agree with Maakro-ra about being there for Latro when he needs you, and he will, perhaps it isn’t unwise to show the same temperance for Gregor if he shows that he’s demonstrating he is open to reason and change.”
Daro’Vasora nodded. “Raelynn suggested that this one find people this one trusts to bring to a private meeting for Gregor to explain himself. She said he had changed, and whatever transformation he had undergone has removed the evil that was in his heart. Daro’Vasora does not believe he has changed, but she is willing to put faith into Raelynn. Love may have prejudiced her heart to his crimes, but perhaps it is love that has helped us endure the unthinkable. This one knows it was helped her survive captivity; they all came back to rescue Daro’Vasora from bondage when she was ready to sacrifice her own life for them. Should this situation be any different?”
Darenja smiled at her. “Perhaps not. I’ve found in my travels that trusting your instincts and embracing compassion are two companions that should seldom be far apart. Follow Raelynn’s request, see what he has to say, and let your decision be where you feel yourself being pulled towards the most. All I will say to that is once you have decided, do not look back. You have a long and dangerous journey ahead, and you will need to focus on what comes next. A commander never lets her thoughts linger on fallen soldiers and comrades for long, because the war shall never wait for you. Do you have a plan for what comes next?” he asked.
Daro’Vasora nodded, more confidently this time. “Daro’Vasora has found a lexicon, one of the Dwemer communication devices that controls many of the devices in their cities. This one has coordinates, kind of like a map, to this plane that they have been banished to during the Battle of the Red Mountain so many years ago. If this one can get to this plane of theirs through the main portal, she plans on using the lexicon to rewrite it’s destination so it closes the gateway to Mundus and stops the invasion.” she looked down for a moment, her features resigned. “She recognizes that it is an action that may cost this one her life and trap her in their dying world.” her words lingered in the void.
Shani-ko smiled at her. “It was not long ago that Daro’Vasora would had considered something so selfless, she would have gladly let the world burn around her so long as she wasn’t affected by it. The last time you came to us, Ma’Khajiit, you were considering leaving your companions behind to their fates and you have since heeded our words for learning to trust them and to let them past your walls. Continue to put your faith in them as they do in you, and they will help you find the solution to the challenges you face. You need not resign yourself to such a grim fate, always hold onto hope.” The Senche-raht purred, leaning forward so her head rested upon her massive paws. “What you must ask yourself, Daro’Vasora, is if you are willing to do what is required. What you speak of could cost many innocent lives.” Shani-ko cautioned.
Daro’Vasora nodded, remembering the child and his mother in Gilane’s streets. What she planned to do could doom so many people such as them; she did not hate or fear them for how they had seen her when she had been Zaveed’s prisoner. In fact, she hoped they had found peace in their new home. “It weighs heavy on this one’s mind, Shani-ko. Daro’Vasora cannot rationalize taking innocent lives in response to the lives that were list in Cyrodiil… in Hammerfell, and Skyrim, too. What weighs heaviest on her is her role in causing this conflict to happen. Had she stopped Rhea, not been complicit, that device would have remained silent and so many people would remain alive and well today. Thousands of perished souls weigh upon Daro’Vasora, and she thinks the only way to save more is by taking what’s left of the Dwemer people.”
“You did not know what your actions would hold, Daro’Vasora.” Darenja interjected. “Why guilt yourself over something that anyone would have done in your situation? What had happened was outside of anyone’s realm of expectation; you are not responsible for what the Dwemer had done in their return. You gave them freedom to return; this is how they chose to use that freedom. You need to carry onward, only looking for the next step in your war. If you let the past burden you, you will never survive.”
“Perhaps.” Daro’Vasora said, closing her eyes. “One thing Daro’Vasora tries to tell herself through all of this is that the Dwemer plane, Exodus, was apparently going to collapse upon itself if we did not do what we did, unintentional as it may be. History is ripe with conflicts and loss, but perhaps that alone, when the dust settles, will give an entire group of people a second chance at life. This one does not wish for anyone to die, to be forgotten to history. It feels as if this one’s paws are tied.” she said quietly, opening her eyes to gaze upon her open palms.
“What Maakro-ra knows of your heart, Daro’Vasora, is that you have grown considerably in such a short time. You had been quite insolent for most of your young life, looking inward only to serve yourself. You had never considered the lessons this one had to teach, nor try to understand his perspective because it conflicted with your own. Now you are considering putting all of Tamriel before yourself, and you are deeply for your companions, for your lover.” the Cathay said, bowing his head. “This one is proud of you, for the bright and compassionate woman you have become.”
Daro’Vasora smiled at him, placing a hand over her heart. “Thank you, Maakro-ra. This one is sorry for her childish disposition and the grief she caused you.”
“Maakro-ra believes that you are on the path you need to be, and trust in your companions and the compassion in their hearts, the pragmatism in their voices, the resoluteness in their convictions. No one person ever has the entire picture, but rather a piece of a complicated puzzle. Perhaps when you add them all together, you can see clearly what must be done. This one knows you will do well by them, by everyone.”
“I’ve always watched you with interest, Daro’Vasora.” Darenja said, his hands folded nicely behind his back. “You were never one meant for a quiet and subdued life. There’s a spark to you, this determination and grit, that I don’t think will ever go out. I’ve watched you struggle and get back up time and time again, to take every setback and loss as a lesson for how to better yourself.” he chuckled, grinning widely. “Many didn’t see signs of a leader in you, and I doubt you did, either. But I did. All you needed was the right life lessons and context and your greatest strengths could inspire and strengthen others. You listened to us when we told you to give your friends a chance, and they’ve done much to repay that kindness. It’s a continuous loop of giving and taking; they will carry you when you fall, and you will pick them up when they stumble.” he looked to the two Khajiit to his side before returning his gaze to Daro’Vasora. “Don’t let the challenges ahead discourage you, Ma-Khajiit; you’ve found yourself good people. Do not stop believing in them, and you can do damn near anything you put your minds to.”
She bowed to him, hearing the wisdom in his words.
“Your time here is running short, Daro’Vasora.” Shani-ko advised gently. “Is there anything you wish to ask us before you wake?”
Her thoughts turned to family and she looked Shani-ko in the eyes. “Daro’Vasora’s sister, La’Shuni… has she come to see you, is she okay?” she asked, feeling a sinking feeling as the ancestors gave each other glances.
“Time will reveal the answers you seek, Ma’Khajiit. You will see her again, much as you see us. Have courage and faith in family, in your friends.”
It didn’t sit well, but Daro’Vasora bowed her head and knelt before the ancestors once more. “This one hopes that they have been given the same clarity and comfort as you have afforded Daro’Vasora. Until next we meet, thank you. She will earn your faith.”
“You already have, Daro’Vasora. Go well, and may your roads lead you to warm sands.”
Suddenly, Daro’Vasora’s eyes shot open and she gasped for air, the unfamiliar skies of the Alik’r Desert looming above with the moons facing her, bathing the sand in a gentle light. She felt hands around her, and she immediately felt comforted by a familiar scent.
“Hello, my love. Did you miss me?” she asked affectionately. Her body began to shiver and she felt weak. “Please tell me you brought something to eat.”
“Oh, of course, I just decided to go out for a stroll while you were flopping and writhing on the ground.” He chuckled with some relief, “I can find some though. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.”
“Well, gives me an excuse to walk off the leg cramps… how bad was it? Entertaining, horrifying?” She asked, sitting up and holding her arms close as she shook. “You'd think I'd get used to this… my teeth fucking hurt.”
Latro smiled, hugging Sora close to him and then getting to his feet. He offered out his hand, “You were shivering like it was cold at first. Then you were whispering and all of a sudden you were shaking like mad. I’ve been holding you close since that.”
He shrugged, “But it couldn’t have been for more than a few minutes. Usually when the Witch-Mothers take the elixir it’ll last hours, but it isn’t like
that.”
“If it lasts more than four hours, see a physician.” She smiled weakly before coughing into her arm. Specks of shimmering spittle shone on her fur. “Well, if you lick it off, maybe you can get a buzz.” She suggested with a smirk.
Latro laughed, shaking his head and placing his forehead gently against hers, “If I start taking you up on that, you may worry.” He caressed her shoulders and helped her up. “Well, let’s get some food in you and we can talk all about just what in the hells that was.”
As he led her out of their tent by the hand, he turned back to her, “Did Mackerel make you watch him die again?”
Daro'Vasora snickered at that. “Oh, he'll hate that. I'll have to call him that next time he thinks that the races of Men are cruel savages. He actually more or less gave his blessing to you. But no, he was oddly deferential tonight. They all were… might be something to do with me not being insolent this time.” She shrugged. “Their words, not mine.”
Latro snorted, “In his defense, the races of Men think mine are cruel savages.” He chuckled, thinking back on some of the things he saw living in the redoubt and living with the Forsworn, “And in
their defense, we can be. We need a strong Chief to set things right, to give us a singular voice to the silent and gagged many.”
He smiled at Sora, squeezing her hand, “And we here do too. This tribe of ours needs a good Chieftess, you’re doing great.”
She looked over to him, raising a brow and returning the hand squeeze. “Oh, Chieftess? That’s something I never thought I’d ever find myself addressed as… Empress or Queen, maybe, but Chieftess sounds so much more delectable. Are you sure you’re just not trying to lure me into your tribe so you can be chief with exotic tastes?” she teased wrapping her arms around his and resting her head on his shoulder.
“It wouldn’t be the first time they found me odd. Maybe it is, just a little. You and me, together, you know?” He smiled at her and shrugged, planting a soft peck on her lips, “But this is the most right thing in the world to me.”
“Who knew the Dwemer would have been such good matchmakers?” she said, returning the kiss and hugging him tighter. “So, I suppose you’ve put some thought about what comes after all of this, because you know you’re stuck with me now.”
“A tiny cottage nestled away in the countryside near Farrrun, we own a dog we found on the streets one night we were out dancing in the city and you begged me to keep her- it’s a girl.” He smiled, “We make our living off of taking trips to exotic places and writing of our experiences, as well as my renown as the hero bard of High Rock. We visit the others from time to time, but we mostly enjoy only each other’s company on long voyages to islands near and far and treks to places people could only dream of getting to.”
“We’ve also adopted a child, or perhaps two, but no more. Just enough for one to always have company and we always let the other know their sibling won’t be the sole receiver of our love and affection. One takes to music well while the other is more interested in tales of heroes, our’s among them and perhaps even the first they learn.” He shrugged, his easy smile perched upon his face, “Just a couple daydreams here and there, you know.”
“Just a couple.” Daro’Vasora murmured, thinking about what he had said. Children, settling down? It was so outside of what she had ever expected for herself, it came as something of a surprise. Then again, it’s not like they really had time to learn what the other wanted or a whole lot about the small things in each other’s lives. She smiled. There would be a lifetime to figure all of that out, wouldn’t there?
“You know cats and dogs don’t mix, right?” she replied with mock indignation. “I think I’d like somewhere warm for a while, where we can listen to the sea and hear music in the air. I’m… not sure about the kids yet, I don’t think I’m responsible enough to be a mother and they kind of get in the way of me stealing some long-dead noble’s personal treasures and pawning them off to museums and collectors to make ends meet.” she looked to him with curious, but loving, green eyes. “Is all that really what you’ve been thinking of? I’ll have to think on some of it, but I’m sure no matter where we go, or what we do, or how many stinky orphans we call our own, I’ll be the luckiest woman alive.”
“It won’t happen all at once, I know. We still have our younger years to spend day-drinking on a Stros M’kai beach where nobody will find us.” He chuckled, playfully butting his hip into hers lightly, “The orphans will come when the grey hairs do.”
Daro’Vasora reached up to flick her ponytail. “Not sure if you noticed the colour of my mane being so lost in my veridian eyes, but I’m pretty damn close to grey naturally.” she teased with a smile. “Stros M’kai sounds lovely, might be just the place for me to write the book about our adventure here, and for you to write me more songs…” her voice trailed off and she looked off at the festival grounds ahead before asking quietly, “do you really want all of that, with me? Do you actually think I can be that kind of person?”
“If you don’t think so, well, you’ve proven yourself wrong before.” Latro smiled, taking Sora’s hands in his, “I want everything like that. I’m not looking for a Chieftess to rule with me, or a wife to be by my side because that’s what people are supposed to do.”
He looked her in the eyes, a small hint of a smile remaining as a tender seriousness enveloped him, “I don’t need a companion, Sora. I don’t desperately crave and claw at the prospect of someone to spend my life with.” He shook his head, “This is happening with you and I together, because I want it to. I’m choosing this. It isn’t fate, it’s just you and me.”
“I won’t force you to bend yourself into a mold of what I want this to become. Whatever tomorrow brings,” he smiled, “I’ll be there. With open arms, and open eyes, yeah?”
“Well, I suppose the past couple months have been a bit transformative for me.” The Khajiit said with a smile, stopping her walk to take both Latro’s hands in her own. “Neither of us are very traditional, never been the sorts to do things because people expected us to. Maybe it wasn’t fate or the will of some divine or another, but I feel like something drew us to each other, like a light at the end of a dark tunnel.
”Before you, I felt people were disposable in a way, that it was pointless getting attached because people come and go and I’d be a fool to trust in anyone’s intentions but my own. You changed all that; you changed me.” Daro’Vasora said, her voice faint as she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. “I was so close to leaving everyone in Anvil. I almost left you, but you forced me to take a hard look at myself and who I was as a person, and I didn’t like what I saw. I’ve tried damn hard to try and be the kind of person everyone seems to think I am, and with you, I might actually believe it. You opened my birdcage and let me fly.” she leaned up and kissed him tenderly, the faintest trace of sugar still on her lips.
He smiled, running a hand down her cheek, “Of course, Bluebird.” Then a rumbling was heard and a tightness reminded him of itself in his stomach, he chuckled sheepishly at the moment’s abrupt close, “Now, let’s stuff our faces.”
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