Aneril's awakening was peaceful. Calm. And more importantly, painless. Her body was free of the dull ache from repeated battering. Her head didn't throb, nor did the muscles between her shoulders lock up from tension, as they had regularly since Aneril stepped foot in this damned place. There was no familiar warmth on her back, but she felt safe enough to keep her eyes closed in bed, listening to the lazy shuffle from a corner of the one-room house, knowing it to be her partner who'd woken earlier.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, and stared up at the wooden ceiling cast with a warm, flickering glow from the candle Vareysa had lit. All was quiet save for her partner's activity, and this could very well be another morning on Tamriel – the two of them waking in an inn room they'd rented, about to prepare for another day on the road. How dearly Aneril wished it was so, but no. They were in Coldharbour – the last place anyone would want to be…save for the Prince's followers, Aneril guessed.
Heaving a quiet sigh, she shifted her gaze to take her mind off heavier thoughts – and the attempt worked immediately. Vareysa's bare back was turned towards her, as the mer reached down to pull off her pants, getting ready for a soak in the tub behind the divider. Aneril smiled faintly, giving thanks for Vareysa's lack of modesty around her – it gave her plenty of chances to appreciate her partner. Vareysa's physique was quite…subtle, for lack of a better word. Like every other facet of her, none of her features called attention to herself, save for a face which was quite attractive – to Aneril, anyway. She wondered if this unassuming form was all cultivated on purpose, a method of blending into the crowd which Vareysa had adopted as a core part of her lifestyle.
Vareysa turned to grab a towel from a nearby dresser, and the candle's light danced across her back, bringing to the fore the faint definition of muscle developed for acrobatic feats. Aneril wondered how long Vareysa had taken to train herself up, what her regiment was…before her questions were overshadowed by an urge to touch her partner. Just for the feel of warm flesh on another. Comfort, shared so easily between them. Aneril's heart grew soft, but she pushed down the innocent desire, deciding to let Vareysa have time to herself. Gods knew they already spent most of the past year together.
Rolling onto her side, Aneril blinked, but was unsurprised to find Shur'azan's head already rested on her side of the bed, blue eyes gazing at her. She smiled again, and raised a hand to scratch the top of his head, behind his ears. He let out a quiet growl, eyes falling shut. Shur'azan always made the effort to be awake around them, whenever they returned from another mission in the dark wilds of Coldharbour – a behaviour unlike their time in Tamriel, when he could sleep around them whenever he wanted, with no apparent trouble.
Aneril wondered if he was aware of their current situation – if he knew every person in the Hollow City was risking their lives to end the Planemeld's threat, that Coldharbour was the most likely place where he'd lose them – or they'd lose him. He probably did, given his current attention on Aneril and Vareysa, even if his understanding may be incomplete. Besides, just the air of Coldharbour alone…it was enough to set any animal on edge. And Shur'azan was one smart little senche, after all. Aneril only hoped she could get Shur'azan out of Coldharbour, and back to Tamriel where he belonged, to be carefree and silly. Vareysa too, where she could…well. Be a veiled, deadly menace to certain people, Aneril supposed.
It was with this one promise that Aneril's line of thought trailed off, defeated by the desire to sleep in. She dozed off with her hand rested on Shur'azan's head, and was unaware of how much time had passed when she was next woken up – by another body half-resting its full weight on top of her. Aneril's eyes fluttered open with a smile, as Vareysa's arms wrapped around her and gave a gentle squeeze, her partner burying her face in the curve of Aneril's neck. Vareysa took a breath, then exhaled warmly against her neck.
"Stay there," Aneril mumbled, her eyes nearly falling shut again until Vareysa's laughter shook her body gently.
"I can't," Vareysa replied. "Or the others will accuse me of keeping our beloved hero in bed, when she should be out there, shoving her boot in a Daedric Prince's asscrack."
Laughter bubbled up to Aneril's tongue, and she rolled onto her back, gazing up at Vareysa. "How do you make something so serious sound so…crude."
"It's a gift." Vareysa dipped down to peck her on the lips. "Good morning, by the way."
"For once, yes. It actually is," Aneril murmured. She ran her fingers through Vareysa's hair, combing it back to leave her free to admire her lover's face.
"I don't know how, but you make the most romantic statements with such…mundane words."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yes. It's your eyes, darling. You get the damnedest, softest look in your eyes." Vareysa smiled, then leaned down again, smothering Aneril's chuckle with her lips.
Aneril kept her mouth closed, paranoid of whatever breath her body decided to give her that morning. But Vareysa was persistent, coaxing Aneril closer, deeper, until she could tease Aneril with the tip of her tongue. It was then that Vareysa disengaged, but Aneril had no complaint where one should've surfaced normally.
Just as well – she was quite the fool in love. And with the way Vareysa gazed at her, she doubted she would smarten up any time soon.
Unlike their usual routine of leaving the Hollow City right after breakfast to investigate scouting reports, they decided to take a day to recuperate from their long string of missions. On their way to the inn for breakfast, Aneril spotted and exchanged greetings with a few Argonians from Haj-Uxith and the Bosmer from the forest of shadows, who'd decided to visit the people they'd agreed to help. It was heartening – the Coldharbour denizens had been welcomed by the Tamriel force with open arms, and they looked forward to hearing the details of a war plan rumoured to be in the making by King Dynar.
Aneril herself had no clue of what the King had planned, and so offered only a friendly farewell before continuing on to the inn. There, the chef provided them with a healthy serving of bread and cheese, and a special chicken-and-mushroom omelette which was the day's 'special'. Aneril was amused by the chef's ability to establish such a sense of normalcy in a Daedric realm, but was grateful nonetheless for his resourcefulness, and thanked him for packing the food into a small basket as requested.
They carried the warm basket out of the inn, with Shur'azan trotting alongside them, a hunk of meat clamped between his fangs. They found a spot by the pond near the market square, where they plopped themselves down onto the grass and threw open the towel covering their breakfast basket. Aneril had toasted the bread with some dragonfire – after grumbling at Vareysa's successful persuasion – and they were munching in contented silence, until they were joined by other inhabitants of the city. The people trickled in and settled around them one by one, all merchants and crafters from the marketplace, who'd thought to bring some food out for a bite as well. Vareysa took their company in stride, and while Aneril much preferred a quieter meal, she figured they might as well use Aneril's reputation as the 'hero' to bond together – as comrades should.
So she listened, and the rest accepted her quiet demeanour well enough. Through mouthfuls of bread and delicious omelette, Aneril drank in every detail their companions shared about themselves. Their backgrounds, their motives for joining the invading force, how they were coping and adjusting to the new environment. They were all so different – Nord stable masters and smiths, Khajiiti merchants and warriors, Breton scholars and mages, all here to fight and even study this dismal place. In the end, they shared one goal – to end the Planemeld, and stop it from wreaking more havoc and suffering amid the Alliance War.
The war. Such a distant, unbelievable reality now. Aneril, a soldier who'd seen too much in the blood-soaked lands of Cyrodiil and slain many a Pact and Covenant troop, could hardly regard these people around her as enemies. She was lost in thought, then blinked when she noticed all eyes were on her. Belatedly, she realised a question had been thrown her way.
"Just how do you do it, hero? Seems you save people wherever you go. I get tired just thinking of so much work."
"Um–, well," Aneril stammered, hand reaching for her nape as a sheepish flush burnt across her cheeks. "I just… It's only the right thing to do, so I just do it. I guess."
She wanted to squirm from her awkward answer and the attention – friendly though it was – when Vareysa saved her with a slap on the arm. "See? True hero material, this one. Right from those novels. That's what I like about her."
Murmurs of agreement and some laughter spread through the huddle, as Vareysa linked her arm with Aneril's and gave a comforting squeeze. She shot a grateful glance at Vareysa, before they were distracted by another question.
"How'd you two meet, anyway? With the war and everything?"
Aneril tensed, while an impish smile spread across Vareysa's face. "Oh, to shits with the war. I don't care about the alliances, just gold and adventure. And believe me, I wouldn't have found my way here if I hadn't met this one at a tavern on Auridon. I was sitting at the bar, and she at a table across the room, then our eyes met…"
Aneril breathed a discrete sigh of relief as Vareysa spun a horribly inaccurate – but compelling – tale of their first meeting. When Vareysa had run towards them screaming with a bunch of enraged alit on her heels, then irritated her for the whole journey to Skywatch. Of all the possible outcomes Aneril would've expected from shoving an assassin against a tavern wall, getting a travel companion and lover was the last thing she'd have thought of.
She wasn't one for exaggeration, but it truly was the best blessing she could've received in times like these.
After a day of rest in the Hollow City, they started the next morning with steady steps and full packs, and gave a scratch on Shur'azan's head before setting out from the city once more. This time, they left through the eastern gates, following the map in Aneril's hands – one drawn by Fighters Guild scouts who'd taken a lay of the land and sketched it down with expert precision. Choosing one location closest to the city, Aneril led Vareysa down a dirt path which led south towards a 'hidden Dwemer ruin' – as neat handwriting on the map described.
As it was, Aneril wouldn't have given this location another thought, but the Mages Guild had mentioned a pair of mages who'd ventured towards the southeast and hadn't returned since. So they set on an hour's trek towards the south, and climbed a raised platform of obsidian rock to find a mage they were looking for – though Aneril thought him unhinged, what with the cranky Dunmer seemingly talking to himself. Even at her greeting and question of concern, he brushed her off briefly to speak to 'Zur', before coming to some unspoken agreement to explain his situation.
The Dunmer mage was Gadris, who'd come exploring with a companion named Zur, but wound up being captured and experimented on by Daedra. Gadris and Zur's souls were melded together, but they weren't sure how long their shared body could contain two souls before it expired. At Aneril's offer to help, Gadris' body jerked in sudden motion, and dark energy swirled around his body before dissipating, revealing a Khajiit with ash-grey fur standing in Gadris' place.
Zur, as he introduced himself, was an alchemist, and mentioned something Gadris was hesitant to reveal – that the soul-meld was killing them slowly, and the only solution was to un-meld their souls. The device which had caused their predicament was nestled within the Dwemer ruins, but the path leading to the chamber had collapsed and was blocked by rubble. Zur could craft a transmutation potion to turn Aneril small enough to navigate through the blockage, but required a pearl tincture he'd lost in the area. He asked Aneril to retrieve this tincture, 'somewhere over at that tower' which he pointed a claw to, then gestured towards the ruin's entrance where he'd wait for them.
At Aneril's nod, Zur smiled and cast an illusion spell which allowed him to blend into the surroundings. With the mage gone on his way, Aneril glanced at Vareysa, unsheathing her sword while her partner readied both daggers. The vicinity seemed quite empty of dangerous elements, save for the usual threat of stumbling upon a Daedra or two. But they encountered none on their way to the tower, in which they found a table with a lone, stoppered vial on it. Truthfully, Aneril couldn't tell if it was a pearl tincture or not – and Vareysa offered only a shrug for advice – but there were no other vials in the area, so she pocketed it and headed to the Dwemer ruin.
They stepped into the ruin's entry chamber and was greeted by Zur, who stood before the mass of rubble and brass which blocked the passage leading further in. Aneril handed over the vial they'd found, and Zur smiled with delight, bringing it to the table where he'd set up a rack with more vials. They watched with interest as Zur poured all the vials with colourful liquids into a flask, then swirled its contents and purred in satisfaction when the mixture turned to an opaque black-blue. He turned around and handed the flask to Aneril, assuring her that it would keep her small until she'd passed through the rubble. Zur himself would teleport further into the ruins, waiting for Aneril's arrival. Then Zur morphed back into Gadris, and the Dunmer worked a spell with a tired sigh, before the mage blinked from sight.
"Much as I'd love to accompany you everywhere," Vareysa drawled as Aneril turned to her, flask in hand. "I'm not so inclined to drink that potion, thank you very much."
"I was about to suggest that you stay here and not risk the potion," Aneril said drily, then took a breath. "Here goes."
Her partner closed her eyes and downed the potion in one go. Vareysa waited, head cocked – Aneril's frown was the last thing she saw, before the Altmer popped in a puff of smoke. Holding her breath, Vareysa waved the smoke away, and her heart plummeted when she realised the space where Aneril stood was empty, ears ringing with the clatter of Aneril's armour to the floor.
Panic flooded her veins as Vareysa fell to her knees, mind wrenched back to the time when Aneril had disintegrated in her arms. Her throat grew impossibly tight as she croaked Aneril's name, but as her trembling hands touched her partner's armour, the strangest sight greeted her. She froze when a small monkey's head poked out from the breastplate, the creature looking around before climbing out of the armour – then screamed. Or squawked, really, hopping up and down as it patted at its hairy body, pointing between the pile of armour and itself.
"Anni?" Vareysa said in disbelief. "Anni, that's you. Right?"
The monkey grabbed at its head, looking quite panicked, beady black eyes zipping between Vareysa and the armour repeatedly. It seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown – or a full-blown temper tantrum – until Vareysa laughed suddenly, grabbing its attention. She picked the monkey up in her hands, grinning at the animal which sagged in her hold with such defeat written across its face, that Vareysa could imagine how it would translate into a grumpy sulk on Aneril's usual, pretty visage.
"You're so cute now, Anni," she cooed, and received a smack on the face in reply. But it only made her cackle more as she set the monkey down. "Alright, alright. I'll keep my mouth shut."
The monkey chattered something under its breath, arms crossed, and Vareysa knew Aneril had retorted something unflattering. But she bit her lip, and motioned towards the rubble. "Go on, before the potion wears out."
Aneril nodded, and started to the rubble – then stopped. She glanced back at the armour she'd shed, then went towards it, clasping at the cloth tunic and pants and dragging it out from under the heavy metal. She set the clothes on the floor, then looked at Vareysa, pointing at the clothes and circling her hands together, finally pointing at her tail. Vareysa stared as Aneril repeated the motion a few more times with squawks she didn't understand – until she finally did. She took the clothes, folded and rolled them into a bundle, which Aneril's tail could wrap around easily.
Then Aneril went to her sword, trying to lift it from the ground with both hands, but was barely able to even lift the blade's tip from the ground. With a shake of the head, she dropped the blade, then whipped around to glare at Vareysa when she was given a pat on the head. Vareysa had bitten down on her lip, but a giggle still escaped, and it earned her a slap on the hand, before Aneril climbed the rubble and slunk through a crack between rocks.
When Aneril was out of sight, Vareysa started gathering her partner's armour from the ground, with a smile on her face. Now she had a question to answer – to let Aneril live this down, or not?
Aneril had half a mind to strangle Zur – or Gadris, whoever – as she ran on all fours through the rubble-clogged passage, her tail nearly cramping with the effort of lifting a weight her body was unused to carrying. The passage led her to a large chamber with an altar in its centre, where Zur stood waiting. As she approached though, the potion wore off, and after a minor poof of smoke, Aneril found herself back in lanky Altmer form…crouched awkwardly on all fours. In the nude. Zur turned his head away immediately, covering his eyes with a paw, and Aneril grabbed the clothes which had fallen to the ground, relieved that she had the foresight to bring them along.
"Couldn't warn me about what I'd change into, could you?" Aneril asked flatly, and Zur looked back with an apologetic shrug.
Zur then morphed back into Gadris, who looked as tired as the Khajiit, but waved off Aneril's concern. He had more energy than Zur, Gadris reassured her, then led her deeper into the Dwemer ruins. Without her glass sword, Aneril was left with her conjured shield and flame whip, with which she dispatched the Dwemer automatons that still guarded the passageways of the ruin. Gadris stayed at a distance due to his exhaustion, and Aneril made sure to clear the way before they marched onward together.
Gadris first led her to a forge, where he retrieved two brass cylinders which he referred to as 'antipodal rods', to be used in the repair of the soul-melding device. His words were laden with heavy breaths, so Aneril saved her questions and motioned for him to lead on. With succinct instructions, Gadris guided Aneril down more corridors, and eventually they arrived at a chamber with a pedestal in its centre – holding a blue crystal.
Aneril recognised the Light of Meridia, and took it at Gadris' behest. With the crystal in hand, Aneril strode to the far corner with Gadris, towards a curious device comprised of a circular metal pad on the floor, an empty obsidian bracket in the centre, a rectangular brass chamber to one side, and two pillars on the other. With Gadris' direction, Aneril placed the Light in the rectangular chamber, where it hovered and lit aglow – the device coming to life with a loud hiss of steam. Then she inserted one antipodal rod into one pillar each, and turned back to Gadris, only to be given a final set of instructions which turned her stomach.
Now, all that's left was a choice – Aneril would decide which soul to save and inhabit this one body available. Gadris raised a hand to stem her protest, saying that he was ready for whatever choice she made, then pain crossed his features before Zur took his place much quicker than ever. Zur seemed nervous, but expressed similar resolution, giving Aneril one final nod before approaching the Light of Meridia.
He touched the crystal, and his body slumped to the floor. Two translucent figures appeared at the pillars then, hovering in the air – the souls of Zur and Gadris. Aneril stared at them, hands clenching into fists in her indecision, before she gritted her teeth and strode forth, pulling a lever at one pillar. There was a flash of light behind her, then the souls disappeared from view. Aneril turned around, and was greeted with the sight of Zur picking himself up from the floor, standing with much more strength than before.
He smiled at her, happiness tinged with a hint of grief, then conjured a portal out of the ruin.
When Aneril emerged from a portal with only one mage, Vareysa knew what had happened – and how it happened. This wasn't the first time her partner was forced to choose lives to save and sacrifice, but Aneril would always wear that firm set in her jaw, and that blaze of determination in her guilt-ridden gaze, trying to convince herself that she did the right thing. Vareysa touched Aneril's arm, and was given a tight smile in return, before Aneril turned away to bid farewell to Zur – whose offer of another portal to the city was declined. He bowed his head to them in thanks, then vanished in a blink of light.
"So…what happened to Gadris?" Vareysa asked in the silence that followed.
"Turns out a body can only house one soul," Aneril replied, voice flat as she went to the table where Vareysa had laid out her armour. "Gadris and Zur stepped into the soul-meld device, and I pulled the lever."
"You did what you had to."
"Don't I always?" Aneril took the time to secure her armour, then clasped her sheathed blade briefly. Her jaw twitched in another clench, and when she turned back, Vareysa was surprised with a smile – softer, this time. She didn't resist when Aneril cupped her face, and pressed to her lips a firm kiss which begged for an answer. Vareysa responded, cupping her partner's nape to pull her closer. And when Aneril pulled away, her blue eyes were gentler, less stoic.
"I'm glad you're here. You know that?"
"Yes, I do." Vareysa smiled, then took Aneril's hand in her own, entwining their fingers as they left the ruins.
They strode up the dirt path slower this time, and when they spotted a crumbled Imperial-style house, with a basement hatch that seemed secure enough, they ventured down on a surprisingly sturdy wooden ladder. Inside, they found a well-equipped workshop, all quite well-maintained. Their surprise lingered, but any suspicion they harboured was banished when they found a journal filled with Cadwell's scribbling. In it he detailed his haphazard thoughts, and between those, he recorded his experiments in creating various arms and armour from assorted cutlery and utensils.
Vareysa would've perused the journal further, but Aneril took the book from her hands and snapped it shut, saying they should respect Cadwell's privacy. So she could only shrug, then chose the least dusty corner of the basement where they set down their packs, and pulled out some rations to munch on.
Aneril wrapped an arm around Vareysa as they ate, and sighed after a bite of jerky. "I'm so tired, Rey."
"I know," Vareysa replied, brushing a thumb by Aneril's mouth to wipe away the tiny breadcrumbs. "But you're going so strong. Just keep at it a little longer, alright? Then we'll have a holiday wherever you want."
"A holiday, huh?" Aneril returned her smile, brighter as her eyes grew faraway in thought. "Hm. I don't even know where I'd have one."
"You have all the time to think about it until then," Vareysa pointed out. "You know what? Tell me when an idea strikes. We'll see where we can go."
Aneril hummed, leaning back against the wall with Vareysa. "I'd like a beach, though."
"You have a bitch right here."
Aneril barked a laugh, then squeezed Vareysa in her arm. "Yeah, seems I do," she said, pecking Vareysa's temple. "But I really do like you the most."