My Love

Chapter Twenty-One

Eve rolled over, hitting into something cold. Her eyes opened slowly, and she yawned wondering how the hell a rock had gotten in. She stretched out her toes, her arms and then she tried to move again. She felt the panic first, then the sinking feeling when it registered that something wasn't right. There couldn't be a giant rock, how could there be? Gods she didn't want to look, but her head moved without permission and her eyes grew wide and she made a noise and it was strangled. She grabbed something, gripped it hard until pain shot through her fingers and her knuckles turned stark white.

She heard noises, tons of different noises but nothing was registering. Gods he was so fucking cold. Why the fuck was he cold? Her fingers trailed the length of his body and the noises got louder when her fingers wrapped around the blade at his side. She tugged and it oozed, and the noises muffled as blood pounded in her ears. She couldn't hear anything anymore except the constant drumming in her head.

"No," The strangled noises came from her. She fisted her hair and blood was there, blood was on her cheeks, her hands and on the floor too. Gods she couldn't stop shivering, she was cold, like him and she wanted to be warm.

Slithers of black shot across her vision, they were holding her gaze, drawing them to his lifeless form. She knew. Oh Gods Eve knew.

One last mission

She tugged at the russet tendrils of her hair, pulling bangs out of her face with great effort. She couldn't stop staring, her heart pounding, her chest aching. She left like exploding, to dissipate into thousands of tiny little shards; she wanted to cry, to scream, to cut, to slash, to do something with these hands of hers that wouldn't stop pulling.

The noises wouldn't stop and she was surrounded by this panic and it was closing in on her, suffocating her and she wanted to escape.

Bring him to me

She wouldn't, but the noises. Gods the fucking noises. They were raw, earthly and grinding against her like nails against stone. She wanted them to stop, but she was wired, electric and she was afraid of snapping.

One last sacrifice

It wouldn't be. She knew that better than anyone. The lifeless form in front of her jolted and his eyes opened. Black nothingness stared towards the canopy of the tent, and his mouth moved and it wasn't registering, nothing was registering and Gods what the fuck was she supposed to do?

Bring him to me

His sweet mouth moved with the words but it wasn't his voice, it was Boethiah's. She had him, all of him and he was the sacrifice. These were orders, she knew that, but she wasn't listening, wasn't caring. Divines, Gods it hurt. It fucking hurt so much.

Eve

The sound of her name on his lips shot straight through her, it was a blade slammed into her chest, twisted violently and ripped back out.

"Eve." Black whispers disappeared and she dropped, her stomach rising into her chest, her throat sore, tight and she whimpered against the noises. "Eve wake up."

Eve twisted into his body, warm and solid. Her eyes shot open and found his; amber, worried and confused. She took him all in, from messed up hair to creases in his face from where he had slept. He had a hazy look in his eyes that was slowing sharpening as he took her in. He had his lips parted and she wanted to press her lips to his and kiss him till the world tilted and their bodies were fire and they were burning together.

"Hey," His voice was soft and she was drawn to eyes again. His eyebrows were knotted in a frown, his mouth moved into a thin line and he was holding her in a vice grip, hands tight around her biceps, "What happened?"

"What?" She couldn't stop thinking about how much she wanted to kiss him, to curve into his body and melt in his warmth. She wanted to swim in his eyes, liquefied in their amber pools.

"Eve," He growled, "What happened?" He was serious, deadly serious and she wanted to laugh. It wasn't a time to be serious, Divines he was alive wasn't he? They had to celebrate that surely? But he didn't know and the smile that had crept across her lips faded. Argis hadn't known that he had died, and she knew it wasn't real, but it had felt it, and dammit she had felt it, "You're scared."

And she was. She was sticky with sweat and she was breathing heavy and her ears were ringing from the silence or from something else. She was shaking and it was him who was holding her upright, keeping her still; terrified perhaps that one movement might break her.

"I am?" She couldn't quite believe it, that he was talking and breathing like this was an everyday matter and he hadn't just been laying there next to her dead or anything. Her gaze dropped to her hands and they moved through her hair, knotted but clean. She saw no blood, nothing; she was clean.

"Yeah Eve," He insisted, still watching her like a hawk, "Tell me," He commanded, "What's going on."

Her gaze shot to his again and it registered that he was asking something of her and she had to respond. A shiver span the length of her spine at his growl and the same thrill of adrenaline pumped through her when he got angry. She loved and hated his anger, Gods they both knew how great angry sex was and she was hoping for that now. Amongst all of the serious things she could have been thinking or worrying about, she was fretting on if she was going to get laid. Eve burst out laughing.

"Eve," His eyes were wide but she couldn't stop laughing, "What is wrong with you?" He was staring at her, visioning her as this maniac and she guessed that she kind of was. Who laughed at a time like this?

"I'm sorry," She blurted out with tears prickling at the corners of her ears and her stomach aching from her laughter.

"Tell me where your head is at," He gave a little shake and she wobbled, felt weak and then it all slipped out.

Laughter turned to tears and her chuckles turned to hurling sobs that raked through her body. She clenched her eyes tight and cried, and she didn't hold back. She let the words gush from her lips without hesitation; she closed her eyes and took herself back to the dream. The darkness coiled around her and she hoped that Argis would bring her back to the light, she shivered and he held her; pressed tight to his chest. But he watched her, listened in earnest and the only words he ushered were ones to urge her to talk to him.

"It was a bad dream Eve," He had finally settled her, rocking her slightly in his arms as sobs turned to raindrop tears. She was breathing deep, eyes puffy, face and throat sore and a heavy feeling hanging in the middle of her chest.

"But it's never been you," She replied with a thick voice, muffled by his chest. It was always Bran, she added mentally.

"Never been me?" He pulled away to look at her and she still saw the concern in his eyes with darker undertones. It was a darkness she hadn't seen there before because Argis had never been afraid before now, and she knew it was fear, knew it because she had the same darkness when she stared at her own reflection.

"You were there," Her voice cracked but she continued anyway, "Lying there stone cold."

"I know," He breathed.

"But you don't get it," She rushed on, "It was me, I did it," And she had, she had seen that dagger before and it was the one she wore strapped to her thigh. No-one put their hands on the blade except her. She treasured it because it was Bran's and it was the only memento she had kept of his to help keep her sane.

"It wasn't you," His voice turned gravelly and rough and she would have listened to his words and melted into his embrace if she wasn't working herself up.

"It was," She insisted, "Like Bran, it was all me. It's all my fault Argis."

"Not one more word Eve," His anger burned her and she pulled away in surprise, "You do not blame yourself for this, none of it," He carried on in the same deep, rough tone, "I don't care if you were a cultist, or a thief or a mass murderer. I don't care that you're greedy because you're greedy for me and doing all of that stuff and being with Bran, Divines Eve don't ever blame yourself because it wasn't your fault." He was wrong, so wrong, "The Imperials killed Bran, he was a Stormcloak Eve, and it was going to happen so it wasn't your fault. It definitely wasn't because you killed one of their guys it was because he wore Ulfric's armour." His glare barely softened and he carried on without a word from her, "And your family Eve, you told me they had no idea where you had gone when you left so how can their deaths be your fault when no-one could trace them to you?"

Eve swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He was right, she hadn't told anyone about her family except Bran and there had been nothing and no-one to tie her to her family. The Imperials killed them because they did something they didn't like and it wasn't because of her. As for the reason the Imperials had snatched her up and taken her to Helgen... there was a multitude of answers for that. They may have known that it was her having killed one of their soldiers or, what was most likely, was that they just considered her to be one of them, a Stormcloak just like Bran.

"So don't blame yourself for them kicking the bucket, they made their own choices and it was their choices that got them killed not you," His gaze finally softened and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, "Forgive yourself for all the stupid mistakes you've made Eve, by the Nine we've all made plenty. But you have to move on if you want to enjoy the ride with me," His hands slid to her neck and he could feel the thrumming of her pulse, "No more blaming yourself for the mistakes of others." His amber eyes roamed her face, eyes wild with determination. "Do you understand me?" She didn't, how could she? Everyone she had lost, yes they made their own decisions but hers played a part too, she wasn't completely innocent. "Eve do you understand me?"

"What if I hurt you?" She thought it was such a stupid question, after all why would she? She loved this man, loved him until it hurt but Boethiah's dream felt like foreshadowing. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to deal with the Daedra, maybe her will was going to falter.

"You won't," He watched her again, eyes dropping to her lips as she drew her bottom lip back between her teeth again.

"But what if I do?"

"You won't," He said it more forcefully and she saw that steely determination in his gaze threatening her to believe him. And for a moment she really did.

"Argis really-" She started to argue before he cut her off.

"Eve listen to me, you won't because I won't let you," That same expression was baring down on her waiting for a response that she was unwilling to give, "Now, do you understand me?"

"I don't know."

"What don't you understand?"

"I'm not innocent in all of this Argis," She insisted with similar determination. She wanted Argis to understand that and that it was also her decisions and mistakes that influenced Bran's death, not just his own. It wasn't fair to claim that, Argis didn't know him.

"I know that and I never said that you were, only that you don't need to blame yourself for the mistakes your family and Bran made. It was their fault not yours," He said the words slowly like he was trying to make them sink in. For all her stubbornness it actually was but it was terrifying at the same time.

She had held onto this guilt and blame for years and it was a life-support. It was her coping mechanism. If she blamed herself for their deaths it meant she could have done something, if she blamed herself it meant that she could have tried to prevent it but thanks to her short-comings she never did. It was too hard to believe that death was out of her control, it was too difficult to understand that what each of them did in their individual lives was make the wrong decisions. It was easier believing that she was the constant bad guy and that Bran and her family were actually the victims. She had always wanted to see Bran as perfect and in taking on that blame she kept that image of him. He had always been the victim, until now.

"Then it was second-hand murder!" She blurted out, raising her hands to his chest and bunching up his linen shirt that he had pulled on before he went to sleep into fists.

"By the Nine you're stubborn," He shook his head and then sighed, "I'm not saying you're a victim, just that you don't need to carry all that guilt because I can see how much it hurts you, I'm trying my hardest to make it stop hurting," His arms wrapped around her and the hands at her neck gave a gentle squeeze.

"But that's how I've coped with it," She breathed whilst avoiding his gaze.

"I get that Love, but you don't need to cope with it anymore because you have me and that's all you need." She felt the blush creep along her cheeks, "Eve look at me," She did as he asked and he still wore that steely determination and she finally understood what he meant. She wasn't innocent and Argis knew that, he also knew she had made some stupid mistakes, some very stupid ones but it was time she moved on. Argis wanted her to look to the future and she had been except she hadn't been willing to let the past go. Bran was gone and it didn't matter who blamed who or whose fault it was. He was never coming back and feeling guilty wasn't going to change that fact. She needed to let it go because memories of him didn't need to be tarnished with her blame. "I will keep you safe and I swear to the Divines that I will never hurt you."

"I know," It was barely a whisper but he heard and he nodded.

"Do you understand me now?" His voice was softer now and she nodded replying;

"Yeah," She paused, "Aye, I understand."

"Good," His thumb traced the line between her lips before leaning in and replacing it with his mouth.

Eve melted in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into her. His kiss was gentle, coaxing away all of her bad dreams and negative thoughts. His tongue moved against hers and it was a damn blessing because it worked. Eve forgot all about the bad dream for those few minutes and she only saw the colour that he gave her. His liquid gold eyes were heated and he pulled away panting.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?" He asked out of breath. He moved his hand to the back of her neck whilst the other one curled around her cheek. His forehead came to rest against hers. Eve shook her head in answer, fingers trailing the hairs on his forearms and then the plains of his muscles on his biceps. She really did like her men muscular.

"I want-" She drew her lip between her teeth and met his gaze.

"What do you want?" He said softly making her belly whoosh. His eyes were so close she could see herself in them.

"I want to get this finished," She moved her hands to his neck and played with the tangled hair at his shoulders, "Then I want us to move on and put all this bullshit behind us, do you agree?"

"Aye," She felt the vibrations of his voice in his throat and that made her belly whoosh too, "I want that too."