Shfting Sands
Part II – Spoiled Brats
"Just listen to me for one moment!"
Iman yelled after her mother furiously.
All the deference went out of the window. She was not going to tolerate this. She was not going to throw away her life like this! Never! She would fight. She would fight to the last until she won her life back. She was willing to entertain these plans and these schemes, as long as she had hope. She thought that maybe, just maybe, a marriage would be an escape from her uncaring family.
But her betrothed crushed all her hope entirely. And now there was no other choice.
Iman should have stopped this a long time ago. She didn't know how she would have achieved that. She had no idea what she could do to achieve that now. But she had to try. There was simply no other way. She was not going to live with that monster in yet another gilded cage.
"I've listened to enough," her mother snarled. Their guests had finally left. And the moment they did, Iman let her mother hear all her opinions of her fiancée.
Her father was eerily silent through their fight and the siblings only stared at Iman's disobedience in shock. But she didn't care. She would fight and fight until she won.
"Not nearly enough! I will not be tied down to that despicable woman!" Iman screamed again.
"You're just being uppity because your precious nights with the lowlifes are going to be taken away. You know what? It's a good thing. It will stop these insane rebellions and it will make you behave again. For once, you have a chance to better yourself, beyond your station. You should be grateful for that," her mother spat back at her.
"'Better myself'?" Iman scoffed. "What exactly makes a bitch like that better than me?!"
"Language, Iman! You almost sound like my sister," her mother narrowed her eyes disdainfully. Oh yes, mother's sister Saadia. The woman who gave up all the fortune that belonged to her in order to become an independent mercenary. The horror. She wanted adventure and she wanted out of her cage, but Iman's mother had been using her as the example of all that was wrong with making a choice for one's self. And she just loved that aunt Saadia lost her arm in a battle with some vicious desert creature. 'See what happens when you have these ridiculous ideas of adventures, Iman? Satakal knows what else she will lose.' Blah, blah, blah.
Besides, Iman didn't really want adventure. Maybe some, but not battles and dangerous beasts. She just wanted freedom. She just wanted to experience art and beauty and different cultures. She wanted to see her first snow in Skyrim. She wanted to smell the ash of Morrowind. She wanted to wade through the swamp cities of the Black Marsh and she wanted to go shopping in the Imperial City, under the shadow of the White Gold Tower. Any of these. All of these. She didn't care. She just wanted to have the option. She wanted to be free.
"Better to sound like her than to be like you," Iman growled angrily. "I will not conform to the life you've lined out for me! I will not dance how you command! Keep your money, keep your jewels and everything! I don't want any of it if the attached strings are… this."
"Don't be preposterous! What would you do? Sell yourself on the streets? You so-called 'friends' are just as broke as you would be. You would have nothing! And you have no skills beyond looking decent enough for lady Aedaere to notice you. That's the only thing you have and that you can use. Don't throw that away for a silly fancy," her mother shook her head.
This was what her mother thought of her. Her looks were the only thing useful about her. Funny, it didn't even hurt to hear it. Somehow Iman had just known. It wasn't anything even remotely shocking.
But the worry about what Iman could do out there on her own was very real. Would her friends help her? Find her a job? Give her a place to stay? They were friends she had fun with, she shared her evenings with, friends she enjoyed art with. She had never asked them for anything. Some of them were nobles too, but nobles were too controlled to be of any help – if Saadia was disowned, none of them would be able to help her from their family funds. And would she really only escape her family to be indebted to other people? That was no freedom.
"Now stop acting like a child!" her mother yelled at her again. "You will write a letter to lady Aedaere tonight, saying how much you enjoyed her company and how much you're looking forward to your wedding. You are lucky the Aedaeres signed the deal in the end, after how you've behaved."
"Like the Void I will!" Iman spat. She couldn't help it. She had her doubts about any other paths, but her mother infuriated her so much. And she was supposed to write this to that woman? "Your 'Lady Aedaere' already knows how I feel. That I despise her. The letter would be a lie. And the fact that she still wants to marry me despite that is a…"
"Enough!"
Suddenly her father's voice boomed across the room again. He could be really intimidating. He didn't yell often, but when he did, it always made Iman want to curl into a corner somewhere. Despite her constant urge to fight against her situation, her father brought out a fear that always trumped that.
"You spoiled brat!" he screamed at Iman. "I've done everything to ensure you would have a prosperous future. Not only that, but I even accommodated your preferences and found you a woman. How many heirs do you think can say that? Do you think anyone cares about that? This is a business arrangement that you will honor in the name of our family. Your feelings on it are irrelevant. Am I understood, Iman?!"
She gritted her teeth in anger. What could she say? Her throat felt closed up as she fought off the desperate tears accumulating in her eyes. She would not cry in front of them. She would not give them the satisfaction of utter defeat. Not like this.
Instead, she ground her teeth before she uttered the words. It wasn't what she said, it was the defiance that seeped through every single syllable. They knew that the words were hollow.
"Yes, father."
Without another word, Iman turned on her heel and stomped away from the hall. She only heard her mother's voice behind her back, calling out.
"Iman! Come back this instant! You have a letter to write!"
Never.
…
Iman ran away from the estate as quickly as she could. Soon, her mother would send servants to retrieve her and drag her back. Iman didn't want to be anywhere near that place right now. She had no idea what she was planning, she had no idea where to go or what to do, but she knew that she just wanted to be away. At least now.
She had to figure out something. Anything to get out of this mess.
First and foremost, she needed to get lost somewhere. It was late in the evening and it wasn't as easy as it would be to get lost in the crowds at the Bazaar during the day. Most of the stalls would be closed now. And she worried that the servants might catch up to her before she got there anyway, especially if she was headed into the underground bar.
Her high heels clapped uncomfortably loudly against the cobbled streets of Sentinel as she walked hurriedly. There were still people around, of course, but she needed to get lost. As it was, she stood out too much with her opulent jewelry and vibrant green dress.
Then, at last, she noticed it. It wasn't even very far – there was a large group of people some distance away. There was a man standing below a street lantern on some wooden podium, yelling out something. The crowd seemed to listen.
Iman didn't care one bit what that was about. She just needed to disappear among those people.
She rushed over, eager to finally feel like she could breathe. She just needed a moment to collect herself and think of what to do. She just needed to spend tonight away from that estate and to figure this all out.
She weaved through the crowd towards the front. She noticed that a lot of people in it seemed to be nobles as well. They were dressed in fancy frocks and adorned with jewels, as befit. There were commoners too, as well as possibly some merchants. She recalled some of them from their stalls.
It was perfect. She wouldn't stand out here at all.
Why was everyone here anyway?
For the first time, she began concentrating on the man standing on the podium.
It was an Altmer. In black and gold clothes. It was a Thalmor.
Iman instantly let out a low growl of annoyance. They seemed to be everywhere lately. She really wanted to escape politics tonight. But this was the safest place for her to be right now.
"…And they would deprive you of opportunities only the Dominion can provide. These dangerous dissidents loathe what you accomplish and earn in your life. They never see a day's worth of work and they wish to take away your opportunities to bring you down into their squalor. Will you allow that?!" the Thalmor yelled out into the crowd.
"No!"
"To the Void with them!"
The people from the crowd called back. What was this?
"Old wars fester in them, old wounds they refuse to let heal. And for those, they would have you all suffer without the support of the Dominion. Will you allow that?" the elf continued.
Was he… preaching Thalmor propaganda?
"Hammerfell is in a financial crisis that only the richest of all the Provinces can help them resolve. The Isles provide commerce and gold and magic beyond your imagination. The Isles provide only opportunities. We are not here to wage war, we are here to help."
Bullshit! So much bullshit!
The people kept nodding, as if he was right. How could they believe this? The Thalmor lost a war and now they still came, still wormed their way here to subjugate Hammerfell like they subjugated the rest of the Empire. It was what they did! They signed countless treaties of peace and understanding, and then they forced their ways anyway.
Iman knew this now.
But before… before she heard the truth, she didn't know any of this. How many of these people were just ignorant? How many just didn't know any better.
No more.
She would not be caged. Hammerfell should not be caged either. Nobody should be brainwashed by oppressors like she had been by her family.
Iman stepped onto the podium resolutely, eliciting a few gasps from the audience.
"Ah, good, a supporter," the Thalmor grinned at her. "I am sure your family only prospered from commerce and relations with the Dominion, correct, Lady…?"
"Names don't matter," Iman growled at him. The second he heard her tone, the Altmer's smile fell.
She ignored him altogether and turned towards the crowd. Everyone was watching her, eager to hear what she would say. It was oddly intoxicating. She was free to say anything. Nobody would chastise her for this, nobody would tell her she was speaking out of turn. They might not believe her, but that was fine. They still needed to hear this.
"Names will never matter, fortunes and hard work will never matter, not as long as we are chained and oppressed," Iman raised her head proudly at her own words. "They lost a war that was meant to make us slaves and now they come and they try to enslave our minds by spewing this… filth!"
"Excuse me?" the Thalmor scoffed and the crowd began to murmur uncertainly.
"They say they bring opportunities? No! They take them away from you. They are here to curb your reach, to get a piece of your wealth," Iman continued without stopping for a moment. "They say we're in a crisis? No! They sow fear and uncertainty in you to worm your way here. Hammerfell is the richest Province in Tamriel. Hammerfell has never interrupted trade for the war. Hammerfell never had its cities fall to these people's crusade while the rest of Tamriel burned under their brutality. While the Thalmor were decimated in turn. We're what's left standing tall and they want it for themselves! So tell me. Will you let them?" she scoffed mockingly, using the same words as the Thalmor had.
The crowd still seemed largely confused, but some of them called out.
"No! Fuck them!"
"Go back to where you came from, elf!"
If only one person saw the truth because of what she just did, it would be a victory. Iman's face got decorated with a victorious smile. This felt… amazing. It felt like freedom. Before today, she would never dare to speak so openly, like those she listened to talk underground did. She felt… fearless.
But then, suddenly, she felt someone yank back her arms and lock them behind her back.
"Hey! Let her go!" someone from the crowd yelled. It was only enough time for her to see two men each on one side of her – both wearing the same black and gold robes. And she had no doubt that the one holding her arms was wearing the same.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, only to be forced to yelp in pain next when the Thalmor behind her twisted her arms.
"You're spreading hate speech, citizen," a voice boomed behind her ear. "You're coming with us."
"'Hate speech'? Against oppressors?!" she scoffed. "I have a right to say whatever I want! You can't do this!"
"Will someone shut that sand-bitch up?" one of the elves growled.
"Let her talk!" someone from the crowd called out again.
"Enough of this!" another Thalmor bellowed. The next thing Iman could see was a flash of something very bright. There was a lot of fearful screaming following. She had no idea what was happening.
Then she saw another light and her eyes started to suddenly get tired.
What was happening to her?
Everything was so confusing.
Then the world around her went dark.
…
She was slowly starting to feel and perceive what was happening.
Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel… things. Like the distinct feeling of being completely naked, with air hitting her bare skin. It was not the air she would feel anywhere outside though – there was no heat, no humidity. It actually felt like… nothing. Like there was not even a breeze.
She felt her arms painfully stretched above her head. And her feet were not touching the ground. She just dangled somewhere naked. What in the Void was going on?
Her eyes slowly fluttered open. They seemed heavy, but she had to see where she was. But when she finally started to see what was around her, there was only more confusion. There was nothing but walls. The common orangey walls one could find all over Sentinel. Like any room in any random house.
Oh wait, there was something. There was a large glass display on one of the walls visible when she turned her head. And there, when she narrowed her eyes to see better, she spotted the contents. Displayed like trophies, there were knives, corkscrews, scissors and tongs and other similar things she had never seen before. Even some more complex-looking things.
She somehow doubted that this was kitchen equipment.
Satakal, what has she gotten herself into?
But what right did they have to hold her here?! She just spoke! The Thalmor was talking too, so she just talked, just like him! They couldn't do this. This was illegal. Pfft, assholes. People saw her be dragged away. Nobody would allow this. What were the Thalmor even thinking?
Her angry thoughts strangely calmed her as she continued to hang there. She just hoped that she wouldn't dislocate her shoulder like this. It hurt. It really did. She wasn't very used to physical pain.
It was making her frustrated and uncomfortable. And a little scared, but her anger and conviction of being in the right were keeping her from succumbing to it. It still took a horribly long time before she saw the only door to the room finally open.
Another Thalmor walked in, predictably. He looked awfully giddy to see her there at his mercy. All of them were scum that had no right to be here in Hammerfell, no right to hold her here.
"Well, well, well," the man smirked. "Another spoiled noble brat, thinking themselves better for listening to dissident chatter in tobacco dens and lowlife bars. Your kind is a septim a dozen. But I have to admit, you're quite the find, from such… influential family. Most of you are from those we wouldn't consider worth our notice."
"How flattering," Iman spat at him. All that money and influence meant nothing when her parents still needed more. They always needed more, even at the cost of their daughter's happiness.
"Of course, we know all about you, Lady Dhallga. We didn't know when you began to spew your words at the stage, but now we do. Tell me, what led you to tell these unfortunate lies so publicly?" he sighed, as if he was really just concerned for her. Ridiculous.
"They're not lies!" she growled, rattling a little in her hung position. She couldn't even look up properly to see what held her, but it felt like cuffs and chains around her wrists, tied to whatever was above her. "I am only saying what's my right! I have the right to an opinion! I have a right to public speech! Everyone does! You haven't taken that away yet!"
"True… you do have the right for all of that," the man sighed. "Unfortunately for you, lady Dhallga, the law can be… bendable."
"You think you can keep me here? Really? On what grounds?!" Iman scoffed at him disdainfully. He had nothing on her! And everyone saw her be taken by these people.
"My dear venerable lady," he gave her an infuriatingly pitiful look. He kept referring to her as he would to any noble, but the contempt was palpable under his words. He was just doing that to mock her. "You are so right. You know your rights, you know your land, you may have some things confused in your head, but… that's alright. We'll figure it all out. We're just here to chat. Until you see the truth."
What? They were going to brainwash her with their crap? Never! She would never allow this!
"And you think my parents will not look for me?!" she yelled angrily. They probably already were looking for her. They needed her to comply with their demands after all.
"Oh, they know where you are. They're in agreement," the man chuckled maliciously.
"What?!" Iman gaped at him. What did that mean? Her parents knew she was imprisoned by the Thalmor and they just… left her here?!
"They thought as well that this would be good for you. Get those silly ideas out of your head and make you a much better daughter. I'm sure you'll be happier for it as well."
Impossible. Would they really do that? Would they really leave her in these people's grasp just because she didn't want to marry that woman? That was…
Iman's head hung down as if in defeat. But she was more determined than ever.
Why was she ever relying on her family? She knew what they were like. Anything for status. And having their daughter speak publicly against the Thalmor would surely be bad for the status they wanted.
No, Iman had nobody but herself.
But Satakal's word, she swore to herself that that would be enough.
These people would never break her.
"Let's begin slowly, shall we?" the man smirked. "I just wanted to talk about… about your friends. Your parents told us already about the establishments you enjoy to frequent, but I'm curious if you could tell us who exactly filled your pretty little head with all these lies in there?"
Yeah, right.
"I don't know what you mean," Iman scoffed defiantly. She honestly didn't even have an answer to this. She didn't know everyone she listened to speak up against the Thalmor. And there were so many of them. She knew that her friends shared these opinions, but they only listened, just like her.
But even if she knew, she would never tell this scum.
"Shame," the man sighed. "We were ordered not to damage your body too much. But… maybe a little. And we can do other things, of course. I hear that your kind doesn't tolerate the cold very well."
Suddenly, a ray of frost shot from his hands, covering Saadia's entire naked body. It began to shake instantly, rattling the chains above her head. She felt so stiff, so cold. She had never felt so cold in her life. She was pretty sure she had never actually felt properly cold at all. Was this what it felt like?
It was excruciating, but not as worrisome as when the Thalmor stepped towards the wall in order to unlock his glass display. He took out something that Iman could not see, because she couldn't even turn her head with the frost stiffening her neck.
Soon, the man stepped towards her with something in his hand. Some sort of needle. She couldn't do anything but rattle her teeth and chains as he pressed the needle into her neck and thrusted it in. All she could feel was a strange liquid sensation in that spot. Not even pain.
"The poison will not spread too quickly through your bloodstream when you're frozen like this. But that will only make the slow discomfort so much more excruciating," the man smirked at her victoriously.
'Poison'?! He poisoned her?
"I will come back later to check on your vitals. Until then, my dear lady Dhallga, think about your behavior, will you? I'm sure you'll be much more understanding after that."
Iman was relieved when the man disappeared from the room at last, but it was short-lived. The frost was wrecking her body, making her shiver helplessly. It was almost unbearable. And then her head began to spin and nausea overcame her. It wasn't bad enough for her to throw up, but it was like always being on the verge of it. It was an awful feeling.
But nothing was as awful as the thoughts of conforming to these demands.
They would never break her.
…
Iman had spent two days in that room.
She wouldn't even know. Time was so confusing. But her tormentor always conveniently told her.
Nobody would look for her. Nobody would get her out. Not until she 'behaved'. Her parents wanted her there. Her siblings wouldn't go against their wishes and they didn't care anyway. Her friends didn't even know that she was there and if they did, they had no means to help her. And just as the tormentor told her, nobody from the crowd that day would be brave enough or invested enough to find out where she was taken to. There might be rumors of the happenings out in the streets for a few days, but that was it. There were countless rumors like this and if they didn't die out soon on their own, the Thalmor helped them along.
The man really enjoyed torturing her with cold. So much so that she was starting to actually not mind it. She was getting used to it. Now she wasn't sure if she could take the heat outside.
If she ever got out of here.
Stop thinking about that. They can't keep you here forever.
But as unfortunate as it was, she had learned the ugly truth here.
The Thalmor could do anything they wanted. Even if the law or the circumstances were against them, they found a way to get theirs.
But she would never give them the satisfaction of making this easy on them. She could try to pretend to be already brainwashed or coming around to spare herself the pain, but she wouldn't. She would show them that with all their power and all their influence, they had no right to take over people's minds like this. She would persevere, no matter how long it took.
After all, it's only been two days, right? What was two days of pain and nausea and cold? She could do this. She could withstand the spells that made her body wrecked with all manner of sensations, she could withstand the spells that made her feel insane in her head for a moment or so tired but unable to sleep. She could withstand the poisons making her sick and achy all over. She could withstand the lack of food and water and the very infrequent breaks in her 'hanging' time when she could sleep. It was nothing.
Nothing for the freedom she felt when she resisted.
The man returned that day again. As always, he came in looking concerned and disappointed. He kept playing the role of the man who only tried to help a wayward soul. The audacity!
"Good morning, my dear lady," the Thalmor sighed. "This is… unorthodox and very upsetting, but apparently, we have to postpone our session today. You have… a visitor."
'A visitor'? What? She was allowed visitors in her secret cell? What in the Void was going on?
Iman had no strength to question him. She would find out soon enough after all, wouldn't she? She just stayed limp as the man approached her. He began to put her down from the chains, as he often did, and she let him do whatever he did. At least he never touched her in a lascivious way, despite her nakedness. That thought just made her sick. He claimed that her family demanded she would remain 'untouched'. She really had to suppress a laugh at that. She worried that if she let the man know that that ship had sailed a long time ago, he would just take that as an invitation.
He put her onto the ground there, still tied up, but surprisingly enough, he began to undo her chains too. He never did that. She never left the room where he fed her, brought her water or let her sleep on the ground, or brought a bucket for her to use. She did all of that with her hands still chained, even if she could move them a little bit.
What was going on?
Iman rubbed her hands when he took off all the chains. She would have jumped him and tried to overpower him, but she was so weak and he had magic. If she did manage somehow though, she could grab his keys, open the glass display and kill him.
That was a strange thought. Iman had never seriously thought of killing anyone. But this man brought it out in her. And he deserved it. There was no question about it.
"Come," he yanked her by the hand and forced her to rise to her feet. She couldn't disobey with how weak she was. She couldn't fight back with more than words like this. That was all she had.
The man led her away from the room, but the hallways still told her nothing. They all looked empty, the same as that room. Nothing felt significant or recognizable.
He brought her to another room, almost identical to the one she had been in before. But this time there was no glass display. There was a different Thalmor there and a mirror and a bath. The Thalmor was holding something green in his hands. It must have been her dress – the one she had been taken in.
"Bathe and make yourself presentable. Your guest ordered that."
'Ordered'? What was she? Merchandise?
This was ridiculous. What was going on?
"What guest?" she scowled.
"That's none of your concern for now. Do as you're told. For once," the Thalmor snarled.
What else was there to do?
She was eager to find out who came to see her here of all places.
Was it too much to hope that it was one of her friends coming to help her somehow?
…
When Iman was finally 'presentable', back in her dress, jewelry, with her hair and body washed properly, she was led into a different room again.
This one was not empty either.
She had been so hopeful, so eager to see what was happening.
But when she entered, her face fell again at what she saw. Or more precisely, whom she saw.
Her.
"There you are," Mirnye scoffed when she saw her. She was standing there with two Thalmor sentinels, dressed in a fancy gown and adorned with more pearls than Iman had probably seen in her life, yet again. This was really the last person she wished to see here. It could only get worse.
"You are even worse than I thought. This is… pathetic. I would not have my fiancée presented as some maniac trying to spread conspiracy theories. You've really made a poor first impression. You are lucky that I am still willing to marry you."
She was? She really must have wanted one of the 'barbarians' for a wife to secure her father's position on the council. Or maybe it was all for Iman's looks like her mother had suggested. This was still ridiculous though. Iman was here precisely because she didn't want to marry her.
Iman only tried to cross her arms across her chest, but she flinched in pain when she tried. Her arms were so sore from the hanging. She couldn't really move them. She was lucky her legs stopped buzzing and tingling by now.
"Look at you. You can barely move," Mirnye sighed. "Just… listen then. I have a proposition."
What could she possibly propose that Iman would ever agree to?!
"I'll take you away from here. Not to your family, but to me. I will take care of your… behavior before we marry. This will be as if it never happened. And you will never do anything this stupid again. If you refuse, well… I'll have to cancel our engagement. And I would just like to point out that this offer of mine is the only reason your parents hadn't publicly denounced you and disinherited you yet. They wanted to after that scene you made at that stage, but… I convinced them we can still come back from all of this. What do you say?"
This was… unbelievable. To act as if this never happened? Just like that? No repercussions? No more pain? Just… everything as it was supposed to be from the start?
How could Iman ever say no to that? Everyone would leave her here if she said no right now. They wouldn't care anymore to leave her unharmed and untouched when her parents and her fiancé wouldn't ask them not to. She would be in even more pain and a more dire situation.
She had to accept. She had to accept this defeat. She couldn't stay here any longer.
"Alright," she whispered, her voice hoarse and resigned.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" her tormentor scoffed. He was way too used to her defiance by now.
"I said 'alright'," Iman snarled. "I… I accept. I'll go with you. I don't want to be here anymore."
"And here I thought I'd need more time to break her," the Thalmor smirked, but he did seem a little disappointed.
"My betrothed knows she has no other choice. It's me or nothing," Mirnye smiled in victory. Disgusting.
But what was done was done. Iman had chosen. Life over a painful and degrading death. Her next choice would be even more meaningful though, she knew that.
Mirnye offered Iman her elbow and she took it. Walking was still a little hard, but she could manage, even on the heels. She was used to them after all. Mirnye only nodded at the sentinels and they began to lead them through the corridors again, through winding halls until finally, Iman could feel the sweltering sun on her dark skin again.
Sentinel, how I've missed you.
Technically, she had always been there. Just… apparently beneath it. It was a nondescript small house they had emerged from. It was not in the rich districts, nor in the commerce districts. Mirnye waved goodbye at the soldiers as she started to lead Iman through the alleyways, but she made sure to scowl nastily at their surroundings all the time.
But while she did that, Iman could only look around in wonder.
She knew these streets.
She knew them all too well. Usually she would never set foot in them in fear of being robbed, at least at night. That was the only time she wondered Solitude alone after all – at night. But this place was an exception. She never came here alone. Her friend lived around here and the two of them often came to his place straight from the tobacco lounge. For some qishr or pomegranate wine. And to heat a beggar under her friend's window. He played lute there for some drakes every night. Iman was always happy to leave him as much as she could.
These streets filled her with memories. They filled her with a familiar feeling. And they filled her with what she needed. Courage. The final shove to do what she had been planning.
Life over death.
And freedom over another cage.
She did some shoving herself. When they were far enough from the Thalmor hideout, Iman quickly disentangled her arm from Mirnye's grip and she shoved her. Hard. As hard as she could. The woman fell over on her heels, onto the sandy and dusty street.
That was all she needed. Iman may have been hurt and tired, but she knew she could do this. All she needed was to run for now and find a way to get away from the Thalmor. She would find a way. Neither Mirnye nor the Thalmor would ever get her again.
"What?! Wait! Your parents will disinherit you!" Mirnye yelled after her. "The Thalmor will hear about this!"
Let them. Let them all do whatever they want. Iman was in the right here. She was only interested in one thing now and that was her freedom.
She ran and ran, leaving the woman behind. She even took a moment to bend down and take off her heels, just so that she could run faster. She couldn't be too slow and let anyone follow her to her friend.
Satakal, she just hoped that he was home.
She finally made it to his place and she quickly rushed up the stairs of the open building towards his small apartment. Her knocking was erratic, but that would only urge him more. If he was home.
Please be home.
"Iman?"
She heard the voice coming from the open window near the door, then finally it opened and she could rush inside her friend's apartment.
"Close the door," she panted hurriedly. Nobody could see them. She couldn't put him in danger. She just needed to find out what to do now.
"Iman, by the Gods, what happened to you?" he looked at her with palpable concern while she still panted. There was so much to say. So much to explain. But right now, she only managed to let out three words.
"I need help."