Shimmerene. This city was her home away from home while she was growing up; a young mer yearning to break away from the apple orchards and spend more time among others, drawing inspiration from the sailors, mages, and craftsmen plying away at their trades, all in a neverending journey to reach perfection. She hasn't been here in a decade, and it's an odd experience to walk on its pristine streets again, following her favourite routes through the city as an older, different person. It's made even odder by the significant presence of foreigners walking among the locals as well – that which was rare in her home, is now commonplace.
She isn't the only thing that has changed, it seems.
Sielaire clasps her hands behind her back as she walks alone in contemplative silence; though she'd arrived at the city with her siblings and Ayrenn, the group had since dispersed to pursue their own interests. Ayrenn managed to break away from Sielaire by giving her a firm reassurance, and though Sielaire was discomfited as she watched Ayrenn walk off alone, she took some comfort in the Divine Prosecution's presence within the city, and learnt to let go. Which is just as well – it's been a long time since Sielaire's had the luxury of introspection, and it's refreshing to have her thoughts all to herself, instead of having to worry about her partner constantly.
Oh, nonsense. Sielaire is still worrying about Ayrenn – she just has no choice but to wait, until her love decides to return.
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, focusing on the path leading up to the monastery at the top of the hill. Sielaire stands some distance from its tall, polished doors, opting to gaze up at the grand structure instead of walking in for prayers, as she had done so often in the past – a wandering soul searching for direction, seeking comfort in the Divine. But she has since grown beyond that desperation, having found the one purpose worthy of a lifetime's devotion.
As a priest walks out of the monastery to usher devotees in for a sermon, Sielaire smiles faintly and moves towards a nearby flight of stairs, walking down the hill and past a few terraces, where prim upperclass mer are enjoying a spot of tea and gossip. Their fluttery giggles follow Sielaire down to the last flight of steps, where she takes a turn towards the docks in the northern part of the city – a favourite spot of hers to while away a few spare hours.
Sielaire takes a path nearest to the waters, listening to the sea's gentle waves amid the calls from the dockworkers, as they move cargo up and down the ships. She keeps walking towards the farthest end of the docks to get away from the bustle, and strolls down the last empty pier that affords the best view of the city and the Direnni keep to the north. But neither holds Sielaire's attention for long as she rests both hands on her hips, gazing out at the shimmering blue waters. How much time had she spent here, staring at the waters and ships full of sailors, and wished she could follow them and see the world for herself? Would she still have wished the same, if she knew she'd see so much more than she'd hoped for? So much that she wants to forget…
"Well, well. Look who's back."
Sielaire starts and spins on her heel, coming face-to-face with the easy smile of an old mer.
"Liratar," Sielaire greets him. "Good to see you're still…here."
"Here? Alive, you mean?" Liratar laughs, waving the fishing rod in his hand. "Of course I'm here! I've always gotten the best catch in these waters." The fisherman hops onto the crate that is his favourite perch, then busies himself by baiting a hook while Sielaire watches quietly.
Liratar's known fondly around the docks as the old fishing sage who offers help and good advice, but he's also regarded as a rather queer figure in town. He always appears lackadaisical, the way he lounges and naps on his crates all day, but it's an undeniable fact that he's the best fisherman in these parts. He treats everyone well – which is no problem at all, except that he extends the same courtesy to apraxics and hulkynds as well. It hasn't exactly endeared him to the Prosecution and those of 'proper society', though it's obvious that he doesn't 'give a hoot', as he likes to put it.
When he's cast his line into the sea, he sets the rod in its stand and gives Sielaire a once-over. "Look at you," he drawls, shaking his head like a doting grandfather. "Once a troublemaker in the Prosecution's logs, now a war hero of the Aldmeri Dominion. Oh, how far you've come… Unless you'd like to knock a few heads around, for old times' sake?"
Liratar laughs aloud when Sielaire clicks her tongue. "I believe I've outgrown my…impulses."
"Or worked them out, more like. Seen your fair share of action on the frontlines, eh? Even got the scars to prove it." He leans forward to peer at her in jest, but pauses when Sielaire reaches for her mouth in reflex, half-hiding and worrying at the scars. "Now, now. Don't be shy about them. Those scars? Marks of a stout heart, they are. If anything, they mean more than those shiny little medals they pin onto your uniform." He cocks his head. "You've got medals, haven't you?"
Sielaire shrugs. "A few."
"Ah, good. Just the other day I was thinking – you know what Shimmerene needs? A decorated war hero. And now, here you are!"
"You're full of nonsense as always, Liratar. Even your fish can see it," Sielaire huffs.
"Eh, that's what they like about me."
Sielaire laughs under her breath as Liratar checks on his line, then starts baiting another hook for his spare rod. As he does so, another mer joins them at the pier, slipping her hand into Sielaire's.
"I've been looking all over the city for you," Ayrenn says, her umber eyes gazing up at Sielaire. She's wearing her enchanted earring, which turns her eyes dark and hair black – and though they've traveled under guise for a while, Sielaire's heart still skips a beat at Ayrenn's adopted visage. Her wife carries it with such elegance, that it's not uncommon for Sielaire to gaze at her in quiet wonder…much to Ayrenn's amusement and delight.
"Well, who is this?" Liratar asks, looking up from his hook.
"Liratar, this is my partner. Aralinwe." Sielaire uses Ayrenn's moniker from her adventuring days, derived from her middle name, 'Arana'. "Love, this is Liratar. Best fisherman in Shimmerene."
"In Shimmerene?" Liratar parrots indignantly, and Sielaire sighs.
"Best fisherman on Summerset's eastern coast," she corrects herself.
Liratar smiles proudly, and bows to Ayrenn from his perch. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady. You'll forgive me if I don't get down. This old mer's gotten quite comfortable on his crate."
"It's a very nice crate," Ayrenn humours him, making Sielaire roll her eyes.
"I suppose we should leave him to his crate and fishes," Sielaire says. "It's been nice seeing you again, Liratar."
"And you as well, brave little soldier. Oh, wait! Here." Liratar stops them before they start walking off. He digs into his waist pouch, fishing out a golden token that he tosses to Sielaire. "Been ages since I gave you one."
Sielaire chuckles as she looks at the token – which is actually a chocolate coin, wrapped in golden foil. It's a treat he keeps handy for the children who play around the docks – Sielaire and her siblings included.
"You father dropped by often while you were away at war, you know," Liratar adds, tossing a coin to Ayrenn as well. "Says it's like taking a good luck charm for you."
"Ah. Thank you."
Liratar waves a hand nonchalantly, turning back to cast his second line. "Just remember to visit now and again, hero."
When the sun has set, and they've indulged in a hearty dinner courtesy of Ayrenn's royal purse, Sielaire bids her siblings farewell for the moment – Rilenya and Virano will head back to the orchards, while she and Ayrenn go on a short camping trip on the outskirts of Shimmerene.
Taking their horses and light travel packs, they ride down the southern path from the city, before taking the roundabout road back up to the north, on a casual cruise under the moonlight. Neither speak much during the journey, enjoying the simple pleasure of their lover's closeness, occasionally taking the other's hand as their horses clip-clop casually along the paved road.
Eventually, they veer off the path and venture into the woods, searching for a spot to make camp. Sielaire has a specific place in mind, though the years of being away has made her unfamiliar with the woods. It takes her a bit of searching before they emerge onto a clearing near the cliffs, which gives them a good view of Shimmerene's lights in the dark of night. Ayrenn stops a moment to take in the view, commenting on how similar the view is to Alinor, before she helps Sielaire pitch their tent for the night. Not that Sielaire needs the help, but it does make things quicker. And soon enough, they have the tent ready, along with a steady campfire lit with the help of magic.
Sielaire places a cooking rack over the fire, upon which Ayrenn sets down the small pot of chocolate they've acquired from a store in the city. Sielaire stirs the chocolate until it's all melted, then they bring out the biscuits and fruits to dip into the fondue.
"This is the most…luxurious camp food I've had in a long time," Sielaire remarks, tossing a chocolate-covered strawberry into her mouth.
"Me too." Ayrenn laughs through her mouthful of banana. "Then again, we've spent the last few years in a war camp. Anything is luxurious compared to meals made with ration."
"You're the Queen, my dear," Sielaire says. "What you had was luxurious compared to the soldiers."
"Well, yes. But I did share them with one soldier, didn't I?" Ayrenn slides a fingertip playfully under Sielaire's chin, and smiles when her partner snorts in reply.
"Only when you wanted your bed warmed."
Ayrenn gasps in mock hurt. "That is not true, Battlereeve. And you know–" She breathes a laugh when Sielaire brings their lips together, and she steals another peck before Sielaire moves away.
"It wasn't a complaint, Your Majesty."
Ayrenn hums, and feeds her a plain biscuit – thick, crisp, and buttery sweet. She leans against her partner and rests their heads together, Sielaire circling an arm around her waist. Dipping the last half of her biscuit in the chocolate, Sielaire delivers it into Ayrenn's mouth, then turns her gaze towards the sea. So many times had she hiked up here in search of some peace and quiet, and just lay on the grass, staring at the sky until her troubles had fallen away. Many times had she come here just to admire the view, and to…
Sielaire snickers softly, attracting a curious glance from Ayrenn. "I just remembered," she says, a faint flush creeping up her neck as she thinks on it more.
"Just remembered…what?"
"That I…wanted to have a proposal here." Sielaire's voice grows quieter with each word spoken, and her bashfulness is compounded when Ayrenn's eyes light up.
"Really? Well then, allow me to do it right this time."
"No, Ayrenn. Please." Laughter starts bubbling in her throat when Ayrenn shifts around, so she can face Sielaire directly. "Renn, it's not–"
"Sie." Ayrenn takes her hand with a smile, and touches the wedding band on her finger. "Will you be my wife?"
"Renn, we're already married."
"I know," Ayrenn says softly. "But the way I asked – it could've been better. I was desperate to be with you then. To be with you in every way possible. And you deserve so much better than that slipshod proposal. I've thought about it a lot, and…"
Sielaire feels a tender ache in her chest, and she struggles to breathe as Ayrenn moves closer.
"I'd like to ask you, Sielaire – you who have spent five difficult years as my wife – if you will continue to stay by my side?" Ayrenn's smile grows softer at Sielaire's silence, and presses a kiss to her knuckles. "You are the most perfect woman I have ever known, and your love is the one greatest gift I will cherish forever. I know in my heart that you are the only one I shall share my life with, that I will only know happiness when I'm with you. And I wish to give you the same happiness that you've given me. Sielaire, will you grant me the honour of being your wife, now and forever?"
Sielaire's lips twitch as she stares back into Ayrenn's loving gaze, desperately searching for words that elude her, but finds none. So she cups Ayrenn's face in her hands instead, and kisses her deeply; Ayrenn's fingers thread through her hair and pulls her even closer, their kiss turning fierce with each unspoken vow. Sielaire embraces Ayrenn tightly, losing herself utterly in her love's kisses, until their breaths grow deep and needy, and they have to part before truly drowning in each other.
Panting softly as she gazes into those lovely blue eyes, Sielaire smiles, managing a breathless laugh. "That's a yes, Renn," she says. "Yes, you will be my wife, and I will be yours. As we have been, and as we always shall be."
Ayrenn's smile breaks into a blissful grin, and Sielaire falls so deeply in love, all over again.
The dreamlike happiness follows them well into the next day, and they move along at a slower pace than usual, as if they share a wish to simply be close to each other. And so, when they hike farther north and find a roadside inn, they decide to leave the horses at its stables for a fee, before resuming their journey with hands clasped together.
They're behaving like newly-weds, Sielaire muses to herself, one of those who are truly in love with each other. She relishes it, this freedom to bask in their affection. Ayrenn's proposal years before had been quite abrupt – slipshod, as she put it – and their joy was marred by so many concerns and fears that they never could truly appreciate what they had together, not with such an uncertain future. But now, they are free to make a life together, and Sielaire cannot ask for more…
Sielaire is distracted when Ayrenn pries herself away, and jogs up the path without a word. Puzzled, Sielaire follows after her, and slows down when Ayrenn kneels by the side of the road, cooing at the lone baby gryphon loping over the ground. Sielaire frowns, noting how the small gryphon's feathers are ruffled and bloodied, and it gives a warning trill when Ayrenn tries to go close.
"Renn, be careful," Sielaire says, eyeing the gryphon's tiny but sharp talons.
"I'll be alright."
Despite the casual reply, Ayrenn takes the warning to heart and conjures a near-indistinguishable barrier around herself, a faint silver glow over her skin. She scoots over to the gryphon, always pausing when it shrieks at her, before moving closer when it has calmed down. Slowly, she reaches out with a hand, and lets the gryphon take a swipe at her. She holds still, protected by her magic, and waits for the gryphon to finish clawing at her. When it's tired out and slumps onto the ground, Ayrenn places a gentle hand on its head and strokes down its neck once, waiting for the gryphon to react. But it doesn't, and she strokes it again – over and over, until it closes its eyes and trills softly, wings folding up to its body.
Ayrenn searches for wounds on the gryphon, healing each gouge and scratch easily with magic. As she does so, the gryphon seems to regain some energy and opens its eyes again, and it doesn't fight back when Ayrenn picks it up to check the other side of its body. After determining that the gryphon is well, she smiles down at the baby in her arms, stroking its neck, then sets it back on the ground. But it doesn't walk or fly away, and just stands there looking up at Ayrenn.
First she tries shooing it away, then she takes Sielaire by the hand and walks away from the gryphon. But the little thing keeps following after them, and they're forced to rethink the situation.
"We should find its nest," Ayrenn says, after a moment's thought.
"Renn, we're in gryphon territory. Its mother could be…any one of them."
"Yes. But because we're in gryphon territory, there's no telling if another gryphon would attack it." Ayrenn bends down and scoops the baby up in her arms. "We'll return it. Come on, Sie. We have the entire day to do it."
When Sielaire's still uncertain, she adds, "We can't leave this little thing exposed to danger, can we?"
"It's called nature," Sielaire sighs. "But yes, let's return it."
Ayrenn grins and pecks her on the cheek, and so starts their search for the baby gryphon's nest. It's a fruitless endeavour for the first hour, with two clueless Altmer traipsing about in the wilds, careful not to get spotted by territorial gryphons. The baby in Ayrenn's arms seems to be looking around as well, given how its head swivels about as they walk on, but it remains of little help – until it starts trilling out loud.
They halt abruptly and look at the bird in worry, before spotting the huge nest ahead of them, guarded by a large gryphon whose eyes have snapped over at the baby's cry.
"Renn. Put the baby down. Now."
Ayrenn sets the baby on the ground quickly, just as the mother gryphon starts stepping towards them, extending her wings in threat. But she stops in her tracks when the baby flies over to her, and she worries at it with her beak as they exchange a few chirps and trills. Then the mother takes another glance at them, before nudging her young back to the nest.
"Alright, it's back with its mother. Now let's get out of here–"
"I want to stay."
"What?" Sielaire stares at her in disbelief. "Renn, we're in a gryphon nesting ground. We're exposed to danger here."
"We'll be fine," Ayrenn replies with much more calm than Sielaire feels. "Besides, we're quite far away from the other nests. They shouldn't bother us."
"But this one–? Gods, Renn. Spare me," Sielaire begs, which only sets off Ayrenn's pleas as well.
"Oh, Sie. Just for a while? Please? I won't do anything, I promise." Ayrenn pouts, taking Sielaire by the arm. "I've never had a chance to see a gryphon up close."
"Renn," Sielaire groans in exasperation, for she already knows what her decision will be.
They find a secure corner amid a cluster of rocks opposite the gryphon's nest, and combine their spells to form a sturdy magical barrier as a precaution. Then they sit and makes themselves comfortable, watching the baby gryphon gambol around its mother, who keeps glancing over at them warily, but never makes any threatening moves. It's a good sign, and it helps Sielaire relax further, the longer they remain.
"You know, I wanted a pet gryphon when I was young," Ayrenn says.
Sielaire laughs quietly. "Me too. I think almost every child does."
"Yup. And none of them ever got one, I reckon. My father got me an indrik instead." Ayrenn shrugs. "I was disappointed at first, because indriks can't fly. But when I learnt that Lotus could teleport? Ha! I gave my father all the headaches he'd hoped to avoid in the first place."
"That does seem to be a specialty of yours," Sielaire sighs.
Ayrenn smiles. "You're not tired of it?"
"Never, dearest."
They lean against the rocks to get comfortable, Sielaire keeping her arm wound protectively around Ayrenn. But she grows bored from the inactivity, and minutes tick by until she dozes off peacefully with Ayrenn cuddled up against her.
When she wakes an hour later, she blinks blearily against the sunlight and stretches her arms out to the sides, where there's only empty space…with no Ayrenn.
Sielaire's mind snaps awake in an instant, and she searches about their corner frantically. But her panic is brought to a merciful end when she finally spots Ayrenn sitting far ahead of her…right in front of the gryphons.
"Ayrenn!" Sielaire cries out in surprise, but lowers her voice when the mother gryphon's head whips towards her. "Renn! What are you doing!"
"The mother's accepting me," Ayrenn replies in an equally hushed tone.
"She's still a wild gryphon, for Auri-El's sake!" Sielaire hisses back, carrying on the argument in whispered shouts. "Come back here!"
"No, you come here," Ayrenn says stubbornly. "Sie, trust me. She's really quite…nice."
"No. Renn, please come back here before something happens–" Sielaire loses her train of thought when her hand rises of its own volition–, no. Ayrenn is weaving a spell of her own, an azure glow around Sielaire's hand tugging at her insistently. "Renn!"
"Sie, come on. It won't hurt you if you don't threaten it." Ayrenn persists, pulling at Sielaire until her wife crawls reluctantly through the magical barrier.
Dread rises within Sielaire as she inches over – purely to protect Ayrenn in case she gets into trouble. She keeps a wary eye on the mother gryphon, who stares back at her as she kneels beside Ayrenn.
"See? That wasn't so bad. Now, don't look intimidating, and she won't get angry." Ayrenn smiles at Sielaire and reaches for the gryphon, making Sielaire's heartbeat skyrocket as she strokes gently over the mother's vast wings. "Oh, let me show you…"
Sielaire watches as Ayrenn conjures a sizeable ball of light in her hands and tosses it into the air, where it hovers in place. The mother gryphon prods at it lazily with her huge talons, and loses interest soon after. But the baby gryphon leaps up from the ground to catch it, flapping its little wings as it pecks away at the ball, before falling back to the ground.
"They're like our cats at home, except they're much larger...and dangerous," Ayrenn points out, though she pauses upon noticing Sielaire's tense expression. She smiles, then taps Sielaire on the nose. "Uncomfortable?"
Sielaire nods, and Ayrenn finally relents, patting her cheek affectionately.
"We're leaving now, proud one. Take care of yourself," Ayrenn says, turning back to the gryphon. "And keep a closer eye on your child next time, hm?"
The mother tilts her head as the Altmer pair starts backing away from her, and she curls a wing around her baby to prevent it from following them.
They pick up their bags, and Ayrenn turns around to give the gryphons one last wave, before Sielaire leads her away by the hand. They walk in silence for a while, then Ayrenn peers at the slight frown on Sielaire's brows.
"Are you angry?"
Sielaire glances at Ayrenn, then averts her eyes, heaving a sigh. "No."
"You are."
"Look." Sielaire brings them to a stop, so she can look Ayrenn in the eyes. "You promised me you wouldn't do anything, but you did. And getting that close to a wild gryphon could've gotten you hurt, Ayrenn."
"I know. I'm sorry." Ayrenn is sincere, and Sielaire wonders if she knows that she's already forgiven. "I was just curious. But I won't do anything like that again. Promise."
Sielaire regards her quietly, then lets out a slow breath. This is hardly the first promise Ayrenn has made, and she knows it won't be the last. A frustrating quirk of her wife's, to be sure – but it is one that Sielaire loves as well.
Thus, with a kiss on Ayrenn's forehead, she accepts the apology, and all that the future may bring.