Carolara reached for her bow that wasn't there, eyes widening with that disheartening realization. She had been caught entirely unprepared, in her exhaustion leaving all her weapons behind to run her errand, and now the Daedra's trap was closed around her.
Of all the simple mistakes. If she survived to tell her fellow Blades this tale, she knew she'd more than deserve the lectures and disciplinary labor that would follow.
When his deep laughter filled the air, she started, seemingly amusing him further. "You seem tense, sweetheart." 'Sam' turned his back to her fearlessly and approached the table, plucking up a single filled wineglass and offering it to the Breton. "Here. Relax."
Her impulse was to strike it from his hand in defiance, but she decided in the end it was best not to aggravate one's captor. Sure he was acting amicable enough now, but for how long? Instead, she just shook her head, finding it difficult not to stare at his imposing dark figure.
"I'd rather not," she said as he raised an inquisitive brow. "Just... tell me what you want."
"Fine, fine." With an exasperated sigh, the Daedra downed the glass and set it back in its place on the table. For a moment, Carolara's eyes were drawn away from him as she watched it fill back up, though nothing was pouring into it and none of those round the table were attending it. "I can tell you're not going to be any fun about this until I cut to the chase."
Her eyes narrowed subtly when she returned her gaze to the Daedra but she remained silent, not exactly pleased that this was all a game to him, but urging him to continue.
"Welcome to the Grove, just one of my many little paradises," he said with pride, gesturing all around him. "I am the host of this wonderful feast of debauchery, Sanguine. And... ready for the best part? I want to help you, mortal."
It was a lot to take in at once. Not just a Daedra but a Daedric Prince? Even after walking the fiery plains of Mehrunes Dagon's realm, Carolara still never envisioned herself speaking with the Lord of Hedonism. All she could think to ask was, "Why? What's in it for you?"
Sanguine picked up a pair of blue, pear-shaped fruits that the Breton could not identify, tossing her one, which she deftly caught. "This might shock you, thief," he replied, words laden heavy with sarcasm and delivered through a smirk, "but it's not always about greed."
Carolara winced internally; that stung a little, even coming from a Daedric Prince. Outwardly she just mirrored his expression and tone for her rebuttal, "Forgive me for doubting that you're doing this out of the goodness of your oh-so-noble heart."
His eyes twinkled in amusement. "I knew there was a reason I picked you." He then lifted the strange fruit, contemplating it up-close. "If you must know, we Daedra Princes don't always see eye-to-eye. Infighting, backstabbing, you know the routine, big happy family that we are. Dagon's one of the worst. No sense of humor at all." And with that he took a bite, exposing a juicy, dark violet center.
"Brilliantly understated," she muttered, gazing to the one in her own hand. The smell the broken fruit was sweet, but not sickeningly so, and set her stomach growling.
"If this little plan his minions are carrying out works... well. I can make my own fun without mortals, but I'd still rather he didn't step on them all, you see. Word is your Dragonborn is in need of a Daedric Artifact so he can get his birthright back and close Dagon's gates."
"Who told-"
"You did," Sanguine grinned at her with his row of sharp, purple-stained teeth. "Well, your dreams did. Lots and lots of fascinating stuff in there by the way."
Feeling her cheeks warm, Carolara turned her face away, intertwining her fingers behind her back and putting the fruit in her satchel, "I-I see. So that's why you came to me with the staff."
A nod of his horned head. "Typically this is where you'd ask why I put you through all that if I planned to help anyway."
Rather amused herself, the Blade looked up to him again. "No, I think I get it. It wouldn't be much fun otherwise, right?"
A pleased expression from the Daedric Prince and a wave of his fingers, and suddenly there was weight in her hand. She brought it round to the front to see what she already suspected; there was the staff in all its glory, a flawless single piece of ebony wood crowned with a blood-red rose.
"I think you learned well," Sanguine said with clear approval.
Stepping back into the real world after being unwittingly dragged into another was disorienting, especially for her tired mind. Part of her wondered if it could have been some kind of hallucination, but the strange fruit and the staff were all too real in her hands. Handling Sanguine's Rose protectively, Carolara weaved her way through Bravil's dirty streets, casting distrustful gazes here and there when she felt someone else eyeing it.
Why couldn't the artifact just be something small, something she could hide? This thing stuck out like an Argonian in Skyrim. When she stood it against the ground it was nearly as tall as she was... though that wasn't exactly a feat at her height. The Breton feared the exquisite craftsmanship and high visibility would add thieves to the list of people targeting her wherever she went... at least after her dealings in this seedy town she could go straight back to Cloud Ruler Temple, where she felt some sense of security. Hopefully, Martin would be pleased. Even more hopefully, he would not ask how she came to obtain it.
The Chapel healers directed her to the Undercroft for a moment when she returned to check up on Nels; giving her a half-second of fright when she, at first, thought them to be taking her to the catacombs. Instead she was led into a room that smelled richly of herbs, dimly lit but comfortable, the stone walls softened with lavish tapestries depicting the Nine Divines and Saint Alessia, bordered in gilded threads. The priest left the room without being asked; this allowed her to relax at least a little when the door closed.
"Ah, you got your prize, good."
The Dunmer still looked rather weak, but had improved from his earlier state visibly enough. His damaged armor sat on a small wooden table beside him. The wounds were freshly bandaged. He began to sit up, but Carolara rushed to his side, leaning the Rose against the wall and gently urging him back down by the shoulder.
"No, no, you've caused yourself enough trouble," she said firmly.
The elf smirked. "Actually, more I think about it, I can trace almost all of my recent problems back to you."
The Breton smiled back but felt the sting nonetheless, lowering her head a bit as she softened her voice, "And for that, Nels, I owe you an honest explanation. Full disclosure."
His mirth faded somewhat. "...I was kidding."
"I know." The Blades agent seated herself on the edge of his bed, momentarily noting how impeccably soft it was. "But I'm not. If I really want to leave behind the things I'm ashamed of, for good, I have to stop being dishonest with people I would be better off trusting."
There was a long silence between the two, neither meeting the other's gaze but in sparing glances, and Carolara began nervously cracking her knuckles. Nels was just staring down at the blankets but some countless eternal seconds later he spoke up, "Alright then. Agreed, my dear. Full disclosure it is. You first... I wait with an open mind."
After a deep breath, she began.
In hushed tones, she told Nels Llendo her entire tale, starting on the day that she had been arrested in Mournhold for pick-pocketing. Her target was a Dunmer woman that turned out to be affiliated with the Temple in some way, earning her an even harsher sentence, combined with her previous warrants. He heard the story of how she had met the Emperor Uriel the Seventh, held the Amulet of Kings, and walked the plane of Oblivion, all without a single gleam of disbelief in his eyes. She revealed, which much stuttering due to her own lack of deep knowledge, the Rose's ultimate purpose as one of the keys to Camoran's Paradise, and he seemed to understand completely, calling it only the 'second-strangest story he had ever heard'.
She saved the confession for last, dreading his reaction when she uttered the words, "I went through your things." The Breton averted her eyes. "I'm sorry, Nels, really I am. Once I had that doubt I couldn't shake it."
The elf smiled and gave it some thought, then shrugged casually, "To be fair, I wasn't exactly inspiring trust by eavesdropping on you in Leyawiin." Perhaps he thought she didn't catch it, but she did; a little gleam in fiery eyes that told her he'd known all along. "I don't like apologizing. It doesn't suit me. So, let's say, no reparations necessary? Call it even, swear it off?"
"Done." Carolara nodded in acquiescence, smiling back, freed from the weight of that guilt. "Your turn."
Nels crossed his arms ponderously. "Where to begin... hm. When I say I'm looking for a friend, that's not a lie, but it's not the full truth either. I'm sure you heard about the Blight while you were in Mournhold."
"I did. Terrible stuff. Talk of the town was that it had ended, not long before I got arrested."
"The 'friend' I'm searching for is the woman who ended it. She goes by many names, because I suspect the Temple just likes to make things confusing for its own sake. Adarise the Outlander, Nerevarine, Incarnate, Hortator, Saint Nerevar Reborn, Dagoth's Bane, Moon-and-Star, and so forth. I just called her 'Ada'." He took a deep breath. "I don't know what to call it so I'll just say we were close. She offered to take me with her on a new journey. Like a s'wit I turned her down. She promised to return in a year, but here it is, seven years down the line. Our people- well, all peoples- are under siege. So one day I got sick of waiting for Ada to show up and help, and started looking, and helping where I could... and now here I am."
The Blade struggled to think of an appropriate response for such a revelation, fidgeting with her hands. "That's quite the story... n-not that I don't believe you. I did hear some of those titles while in the province, but never learned enough of the local lore to understand it all. I would help if I was able."
"You have enough on your plate," Nels chuckled dryly, wincing as he did; the wound probably still stung something fierce.
"Maybe I should let you get some rest," she observed with concern.
"Me?" A raised brow. "You're so tired you look like you've got a pair of shiners. You're not going to see the Count like that are you?"
Self-consciously, Carolara reached up to touch the skin beneath her eyes, but there were no reflective surfaces nearby to have a look. That was probably for the better if what he said was true. Oddly enough, she realized she hadn't noticed her exhaustion nearly as much after the encounter with Sanguine and subsequent uplift in mood from obtaining her goal. She shook her head. "Of course not. Rest comes first, in case more trouble comes along. Do you think a day will do?"
The Dunmer sighed. He remained smiling, but it wasn't mirthful. "Wouldn't you know it, the Chapel healers say I need at least three... so it looks like this is where our roads go different directions."
She wanted to blurt out that she could wait, but didn't. The sooner the Rose reached Martin, the closer they would be to reclaiming the Amulet, and with the Crisis worsening every moment the barriers remained open there was no time to be wasted. It was a shame. Nels was an excellent travelling companion, and now she could say for sure, a good friend. Without a word and to his apparent surprise she leaned over and embraced him, tenderly as to avoid aggravating his wound.
"Try not to miss me too much," he quipped, returning the gesture.
She released him, coming to a stand beside the bed. "Thanks for all your help, and for your honesty. You know where to look for me if you need anything."
"Carolara," Nels broke the silence just as the Blade was pulling the door open, and she paused there to regard him with an inquisitive look as he said, "Just in case I don't see you tomorrow..."
"Yes?"
Crimson eyes met her own. "Don't make the mistake I did. Don't waste opportunities, or you'll be stuck regretting it forever."
The Breton shifted her weight, unable to fully meet his gaze, and gave him a simple nod before turning away. "I'll... keep that in mind," was her noncommittal reply before the door shut.
