The air in Greenshade is quiet, peaceful, marked with an air of triumph by design, underscored by a subtle tone of grief. The last of which is scarcely noticeable, unless you know where to look; and in a camp of Dominion soldiers basking in the lull of a battle won, less than a handful of people are even aware of it. A serene atmosphere pervades the entire camp – in healers' tents where soldiers are recovering, around campfires where comrades share a mug or two, at the war table where preparations are being made not for war, but celebration.
Even in the Queen's tent, pitched closest by the overlook's edge, gazing over the dark waters glinting with the light of the moon. It is dark inside, not a single lit candle hinting at the Queen's wakefulness. But the silence within is broken by panted breath, swallowed moans, sweet nothings whispered into an ear, and the soft clink of a pendant on fine chain as it falls from its perch on a smooth neck, to the woollen bedroll below.
Sielaire is briefly distracted, eyes darting to the pendant's turquoise crystal, before fingers curl tighter in her mussed tresses, a demand that she return to the task at hand. The faintest smile crosses her lips as she returns to the kisses up Ayrenn's jaw, biting firmly to catch her attention, glimpsing clouded eyes before she catches Ayrenn in a deep kiss. Another hum reverberates over Sielaire's lips, as her fingers continue working between Ayrenn's thighs, curling and thrusting, never once letting up even as her lover's head falls back once more, a sigh leaving her lips.
"Sie," Ayrenn whispers, eyes falling shut as she reaches down with a trembling hand, and clutches at her lover's wrist. "Sielaire."
Even in this state, a dull note hides beneath Ayrenn's passion-stricken breath, and a sympathetic ache wells up in Sielaire's chest. At the tightening of Ayrenn's fingers on her wrist, Sielaire moves her hand harder, faster, closing her teeth on her lover's flesh, determined to be the sole object in Ayrenn's mind – as she wants, and as Ayrenn needs.
Carefully balancing on her knees, Sielaire reaches up with her free hand, entwining their fingers together. Ayrenn's eyes crack open to look at her, and Sielaire indulges in the desire shining through the darkness of night, flaring as she hits and strokes the sweet spot that makes Ayrenn tremble and writhe. She moves her gaze down to parted lips, and meets them again – rougher, diving in to claim that which is hers, tasting sweet surrender on her tongue.
She doesn't stop, trapping Ayrenn in one kiss after another, leaving her just enough space to breathe in between, as she drives her lover ever closer to oblivion. Ayrenn clutches at her, tighter and desperate, thighs clamping around Sielaire's hand, only to be driven apart by her lover's legs. Sielaire meets each buck of the hip into her palm, and drives her fingers relentlessly into slick, velvety warmth, pushing past the stiffness settling into her wrist, focusing on the lewd moans stifled by her mouth.
Her own pants start to mingle with Ayrenn's, beads of sweat trailing down to where skin meets skin, and she only dares to part from Ayrenn's lips to nip at her neck, before moving swiftly up again to take her in a kiss, when a pitched mewl reaches her ears. Ayrenn's hand grips into her hair, fingers digging into Sielaire's back as her body locks up, crying a note of ecstasy into Sielaire's mouth.
Sielaire rides the crest with her, prolonging her pleasure before slowing down, fingers turning gentle and soothing as Ayrenn's trembles and twitches fade. Parting from Ayrenn's lips – which she quickly returns to with a soft peck – Sielaire gazes down at Ayrenn, who has relaxed, head turned aside with her eyes closed. Slipping out of her lover, Sielaire settles snugly between Ayrenn's legs, occupying herself with her lover's body, planting kisses all over her slick skin. She looks up when Ayrenn moves again, and feels a hand cup her cheek gently, coming alight with an azure glow which allows their eyes to meet proper.
Sielaire smiles, and though Ayrenn doesn't return it, her heart still softens at the mellow expression on her lover's face, tousled blonde hair clinging to her jaw which makes the indomitable Queen look ever so mortal.
"You're beautiful," Sielaire murmurs, unbidden, and kisses the thumb grazing over her lips.
Ayrenn stays silent, though her hand caresses Sielaire's cheek and arm, as she is showered with soft kisses. She remains pliant under Sielaire's ministration, before asserting pressure on Sielaire's head, guiding her back up. Sielaire gives her a kiss, then allows herself to be guided down to the bedroll, gladly opening her arms for Ayrenn to nestle against her. Head burrowing into Sielaire's neck, Ayrenn rests an arm around Sielaire, the two lying together in each other's arms.
Still, she remains quiet, and Sielaire starts to worry as she combs her fingertips through blonde tresses. Ayrenn hasn't spoken much since they've left Hectahame, and made camp in a safe area while waiting for supplies and reinforcements to arrive from Marbruk. First Sielaire had thought she was angry – which she was, having been denied the right to end the lich herself – but then Sielaire noticed the Queen drifting away from her own people, letting a subtle divide grow that she has worked so hard to overcome, to reach out to others. It is not dissimilar to her pall in Grahtwood, after the incident at the Orrery, and it doesn't take much for Sielaire to figure out what is bothering her.
The trouble is, Ayrenn seems disinclined to open up this time. Gentle prodding is always turned away, concern deflected and countered with an order that Sielaire is honour-bound to fulfil – troops to coordinate, movements to plan. All duties of a battlereeve chosen for the Queen's guard, but Sielaire knows all too well they are excuses to keep her away. It makes Sielaire ache, the clear intent of her lover, and her inability to fight against it; but she doesn't let it dissuade her, working through the cracks in Ayrenn's wall, sneaking a caress or two in private, holding her hand for a few stolen moments before the Queen emerges once more.
How the tables have turned, and how unused Sielaire is; it has always been Ayrenn's part, to flash a smile and steal fond touches, keeping that affectionate warmth alive in Sielaire's chest through the day, and having her gravitate back to the Queen for company, night after night. And it seems to be working, given how Ayrenn had pounced on her that night, though Sielaire's well aware it is for the purpose of distraction.
Rubbing her knuckles on the small of Ayrenn's back, Sielaire angles her head down to place a kiss on top of Ayrenn's hair. Her lover shifts at the movement, but does nothing to part from their embrace.
Sielaire ponders, listening to the distant sounds of steel and leather rustling over grass, and knows she doesn't have much time left to stay. "Renn."
"Mm."
"Are you alright?" Such a simple question, but it hangs heavy on her heart, which sinks a little at the silence that follows.
"No," Ayrenn replies.
"You know I'm here for you."
Fingertips trail up Sielaire's back, digging in briefly, before letting go. Regret burgeons in Sielaire when Ayrenn pulls away and lies on her back. An apology hangs on Sielaire's tongue, borne of a desire to have Ayrenn in her arms once more. Sielaire reaches over to stroke her cheek, and Ayrenn grasps her wrist gently, thumb circling over her skin.
"I know, Sie," Ayrenn whispers, pressing a kiss to her fingers. "But…not now, alright?"
Sielaire nods, then rises and pecks her lover's forehead. "I have to go."
Ayrenn's fingers release her without argument, and while Sielaire reaches for her uniform lying on the ground, slipping into them with practiced ease, Ayrenn sits up in her bedroll. She lights a small candle by them, providing enough illumination to see what's happening within the tent, but not too much to reveal their movements to any prying eyes from the outside. Ayrenn reaches out with her hands, and Sielaire shuffles closer to her, Ayrenn helping to buckle the pieces of armour to her body.
When they're done, Sielaire smiles at her lover, noting the shadows beneath Ayrenn's eyes, hanging darker under the weak glow of the candle. She cups Ayrenn's cheek, and leans in to give her a soft kiss.
"I'll see you in the morning, beloved."
Ayrenn's eyes meet hers, softer now. A faint smile curves Ayrenn's lips for the first time that night, and she nods.
Ayrenn doesn't change much despite Sielaire's frequent reassurances, but the battlereeve takes it in stride when they start the journey up to Velyn Harbour in Malabal Tor. It is odd to watch Ayrenn swap masks so often in their travels. The Queen leads and plans for the Silvenar and The Green Lady's wedding with Indaenir, bearing a sincere joy for the Bosmer, who seems grateful for her help and reciprocates her cheer in kind.
She is ever strong, ever bright, every bit the steadfast Queen her people have come to know and respect. Her smiles and humour return day by day, and though it holds together a hopeful image before the Dominion, it only emphasises the shadows which fall over her in the privacy of her tent, exhaustion culminating in a strain visible on her youthful features. Sielaire misses dearly the lively Queen who never seems to slow down, but acknowledges that Ayrenn may be tiring after expending so much energy over such a long period of time. It has left her vulnerable, magnifying the weight of setbacks on her shoulders, and though Sielaire is confident Ayrenn will pick herself up in time, she still worries and earns exasperated, yet fond glances in her direction.
Her protectiveness heightens when they are within a day's travel to Velyn Harbour, and receive word of trouble that has wrought the town. As the Harbour is where The Green Lady awaits them, Ayrenn is stricken by urgency and orders her people to march with little rest, unwilling to allow any harm fall upon the Lady. Upon reaching the town, though, they find that they've just missed the action, and the invaders were driven out just two days before. The Green Lady and the renowned Queen's Eye are nowhere to be found, having gone on to investigate the source of Velyn Harbour's troubles, but Ayrenn seems relieved that The Green Lady is alive and well.
Still, she chooses to err on the side of caution, and dispatches Sielaire to the Wood Orc camp where The Green Lady has gone. Sielaire accepts the order stoically, despite feeling the strain of travel, and leaves the Queen with a salute and a lingering gaze.
The camp is only a short horse-ride away from town, and Sielaire chooses to march straight to their destination, after consulting and agreeing with her lieutenants that it'll be wise to finish this quickly. A short mission will put less stress on her tired soldiers, and Sielaire is quite relieved when they find The Green Lady sneaking out of the Wood Orc camp, with the Eye by her side. Both look battered, and Sielaire escorts them farther from the camp, before setting up one of their own so they are afforded some rest for a night.
They reach Velyn Harbour the next morning, where they pay a visit to the Queen, before The Green Lady and the Eye take their leave, giving Ayrenn an assurance that they shall put an end to the trouble brewing in Malabal Tor. Sielaire watches Ayrenn long enough to note her quiet sigh, before moving onto her own duties as well. Velyn Harbour has suffered much damage from the invasion, and still needs aid to recover. Sielaire does what she knows best – shoring up defences at the town's walls and docks, helping to train a militia made of local volunteers. But before she can settle in, Ayrenn intervenes with another order – which will send Sielaire all the way across Malabal Tor.
She is half-tempted to argue against the command, but stays her tongue when Ayrenn walks close and clasps her arms, fixing her with a steady gaze. Light from the crackling fire dances across her face, which softens as she squeezes Sielaire gently.
"I'm not sending you away on purpose – I promise," Ayrenn says, and it pains Sielaire that she needs to clarify. "You are the fastest among us, one of the strongest. And I trust you." She pauses, eyes flickering away briefly. "I know I have been taxing you a lot lately. And I'm sorry. But–"
"No." Sielaire rests two fingers on her lips. "Don't apologise."
Ayrenn presses her lips together, then lowers her gaze in defeat. She backs away from Sielaire, turning to the chest containing her personal effects, and picks from it a polished fang hung from a braided leather band.
"I saw this in a peddler's store last night. He said it's a charm that will protect you in this part of the Valenwood."
"Only this part?" Sielaire says incredulously, and Ayrenn laughs under her breath.
"Works on superstition, I suspect. But…I don't know. I thought of you." Ayrenn shrugs, then looks up when Sielaire cups her chin and kisses her.
"Thank you." Sielaire smiles, dropping the charm into a belt pocket.
Ayrenn's lips curve as well, and she circles both arms around Sielaire's waist, pressing up to her. "Will you stay tonight? I'd like to be with you before you leave."
The low timbre in her voice is unmistakable, and Sielaire's heart skips a beat as she gives her answer in a kiss, drawn in further when Ayrenn's lips yield under hers. She relishes the softness, the openness with which Ayrenn receives her, and her head is light when she meets blue eyes laid bare.
"I'm yours," Sielaire whispers.
Sielaire's task: to secure the roads and settlements of Malabal Tor with all haste, so the Dominion is able to fly to The Green Lady's aid when she calls for it. A simple task easily completed with due diligence, and Sielaire forges ahead with her soldiers, setting up garrisons at less protected villages, scheduling regular patrols to secure the roads leading to and from settlements. Taking a leaf from Ayrenn's book, Sielaire tries to build better relations between the local Bosmer and her soldiers, tending to the concerns of each village to earn their confidence, and quell any fears of occupation.
Truthfully, it makes her job that little bit harder, but Sielaire starts to understand why Ayrenn channels so much energy into her people. To earn their trust is a reward in itself, but to have their respect as well is quite fulfilling indeed. For the first time, Sielaire feels the threads of the Dominion weaving together, providing subtle strength that is surely the source of hope from which Ayrenn draws and projects. Although, she still falls short of sharing the exact vision which the Queen purports, her own doubts and concerns of practicality marring the dream.
It is a negligible thing, to be sure. She is more than content to leave the workings of a visionary to Ayrenn, but she still finds herself seeking reassurance – for herself, and the Queen – and reaches out for help.
They've reached a grove named Valeguard, where Bosmer spinners reside. It is said that some spinners have knowledge of the future, and though their knowledge is only of the Bosmer people, Sielaire is set on gaining some insight. The Spinner she consults cocks his head at her question – to know the future of Valenwood and the Bosmer, and if they will flourish, how will they do so?
Sielaire nods in understanding when the spinner says nothing is truly set in stone, and she waits while the Bosmer goes into a peaceful trance, working magic which winds around him in a benign aura. Her heart beats quicker in silence, half-wishing she hadn't asked, remembering that ignorance is sometimes bliss. But she is soon soothed by the Bosmer's words, spoken with a dream-like tone.
"There will be dark times ahead, filled with much death and sacrifice. But the Bosmer shall flourish after, standing with our most steadfast allies."
The spinner doesn't elaborate after that, but judging by the beatific smile on his face, Sielaire needn't worry about the specifics. Thus, she sets her burdens down for a moment, allowing herself and her soldiers to rest in the peaceful grove. But trouble inevitably finds its way to them – this one through a runner dispatched to deliver a message to Sielaire. It is a terse command written on a note by the Queen: Battlereeve Sielaire will travel to the city of Silvenar post-haste, and aid in the removal of a threat to Valenwood's peace.
Sielaire jumps to her feet and barks an order, which has her soldiers scrambling to their feet, brushing off the lackadaisical mood that has fallen over them. On their horses, they thunder through the forest with no attempt at stealth; Sielaire's gut tells her that she is needed at Silvenar for an all-out battle, and her instincts are on point.
They reach the city to find several houses ablaze, threatening to spread across the city if left unchecked. Dominion soldiers are scattered across the streets, engaged in fierce battle against Bosmer dressed in full bone armour, fighting with a near-feral intensity. Sielaire and her Wings rush into the fray, their sudden appearance taking their foes aback, long enough to send them into disarray and break their lines. She pushes their foes into retreat, inch by inch, and frees up more Dominion soldiers, sending them to deal with the fires before the entirety of Silvenar is razed to the ground.
Amid the chaos of battle, Sielaire spots a figure clad in blue and gold, sword flashing with the light of flames as it dances with agile grace, blade slick with blood. Sielaire makes straight for the Queen, whose fiery gaze turns to her, and lights up in recognition. They fall into a familiar dance, fighting in harmony as Sielaire escorts the Queen to the Great Tree, where she is determined to follow the Eye and face the mastermind responsible for this chaos.
Her intent is only made known to Sielaire at the very last second, and Ayrenn finds her arm locked in an iron grip by the battlereeve, who refuses to let her go. They argue, and though Sielaire is forced to release the Queen, Ayrenn stays at the base of the Great Tree with Sielaire, when she finds her way up barred by a magical barrier. Only when Indaenir arrives and dispels the barrier, is Ayrenn granted access. The Queen turns to Sielaire and gives her a curt command to stay, before climbing up the Great Tree with the Silvenar.
Sielaire clenches her jaw, and turns her frustration towards the stragglers still putting up a fight in the city. She orders her soldiers to spread out, and their time is spent clearing the city of invaders, until the last of them have fled. Only when Ayrenn returns to give the all-clear, does she gather her soldiers. But the Queen's reappearance doesn't give her comfort – they've received word of more trouble brewing in Reaper's March, on the border between Valenwood and Elsweyr.
Sielaire's fear that Ayrenn will insist on heading to Reaper's March is realised, when she seeks the Queen out in her private quarters. Ayrenn wants to ensure the safety of the Mane – the leader of the Khajiit – and Sielaire ripostes, insisting she doesn't need to risk her own life for this.
"You have agents to investigate the matter in your stead. There is no need for you to handle it personally. And," Sielaire adds when Ayrenn starts to argue. "We've already traveled much farther than planned–"
"Because we need to, Sielaire," Ayrenn retorts. "I need to. I can scarcely stand aside while our allies face dangers that threaten their stability. Our stability."
"It still doesn't change the fact that we've been dealing with these threats by the edge of our ears. We've come much too far, and we are operating without a plan!" Sielaire counters. "The dangers we've seen have only grown worse the farther we go. I cannot stand to watch you get hurt just because–"
Sielaire stops suddenly, realising what has just fallen from her lips – and judging from the look on Ayrenn's face, it seems her partner has caught on as well. She takes a step back to calm down, chiding herself for allowing this to turn personal, and averts her eyes.
"Sie." Ayrenn's voice has softened as she moves closer. "I understand how you feel. But as I said – I cannot stand by and watch while another threat looms on the horizon. I need to be there, for my people."
Guilt stabs at Sielaire's heart, but she steels herself. "And I am yours to command."
"No, Sie." Ayrenn slips her fingers between Sielaire's, which freeze in a second of indecision, before curling around Ayrenn's. "Please. You are not just…" Her voice trails off, then returns, stronger. "I love you, Sie. And I don't want to push you any further than you're willing to go."
"Ayrenn," Sielaire cuts in, before she can speak any further. "I will follow you, wherever you choose to go. I do not say this out of mere duty. You are my heart, and I cannot rest unless I know that you are safe – that I can keep you safe."
Ayrenn stares at her, then raises a hand to touch her cheek. "I know. I'm–" She takes a breath and sighs, her gaze sweet and aching. "Thank you."
The night after, Sielaire finds Ayrenn in her quarters in the Great Tree, looking rather tired. She is quieter, but gives a soft smile and takes Sielaire's hand, asking her to 'trust me'. Ayrenn's smile grows brighter at Sielaire's nod, and she casts an invisibility spell over them, leading Sielaire through the network of bridges between the towering trees of Silvenar. Sielaire has to bite down a protest when Ayrenn leads her out of the city, walking off the bridge to the middle of a cliff, and together they set on a short hike up to the top. Ayrenn seems to search around the area, winding about in a methodical path, until they've arrived at a copse lit by the glow of torchbugs flying lazily through the air.
Ayrenn smiles back at her, tugging at her hand, and they settle into a comfortable nook between the great roots of a tree, overlooking the multi-coloured lights of the city.
"I spotted this place from my window last night," Ayrenn explains, as Sielaire slips an arm around her waist. "Thought it'd be a nice place to…get away for a while."
Sielaire hums. "It is quite beautiful."
"Glad you like it." Ayrenn laughs under her breath, nestling her head into Sielaire's neck. "I just want to be with you for a while."
Me too. Sielaire closes her eyes, resting a cheek atop blonde tresses. To be stolen away by her lover, to have Ayrenn in her arms, is the best luxury Sielaire can think to have for now. She relaxes, relishing in Ayrenn's closeness, idly stroking the bare skin of her lover's arm. Her mind drifts into a peaceful doze, then wakes when she hears Ayrenn's voice.
"Sie?"
"Hm?"
A long pause. "Are you angry?"
Sielaire sits still, eyes opening as she ponders the reason for this question. "No."
Ayrenn's head shifts on her shoulder. "But you have plenty of reason to be."
As Sielaire frowns, Ayrenn sits up and turns to face her. "Why?"
Ayrenn's gaze drops, before lifting to meet Sielaire's with a wan smile. "I've gone against your wishes time and again, despite the fact that you want the best for me. Doesn't that frustrate you?"
"Yes, it does."
"And?"
"And…what are you expecting from me?" Sielaire asks slowly, and notices the brief frown that scrunches Ayrenn's brows.
"You were unhappy with me yesterday."
"I–, yes. I was." Sielaire opts not to lie, though she regrets the decision when Ayrenn smiles stiffly.
"And you're still here."
"Where else would I be?"
Ayrenn opens her mouth, on the verge of speaking, but heaves a sigh instead. "You haven't thought about it, then? To wash your hands of me? To be free of this headache?"
Though Ayrenn wears a smile, Sielaire sits up, worry biting deep. "Renn, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry. I've put you through all this, and all I can say is that I regret the necessity. I've put this burden onto your shoulders, which I cannot take away any time soon."
"It is not a burden."
"It is. I don't know if this is what you wanted when you fell in with me. But you could've…had it easier."
"Ayrenn," Sielaire intones, clasping her hand. "Don't."
Ayrenn lets out a breath. "I'm sorry. You could've had better if I chose to let you go–"
"Renn." Sielaire cups her chin, lifting her gaze. "Listen to me. I chose to be with you. And I accept all that comes with it. You frustrate me, Your Majesty, but it doesn't make me love you any less." She smiles when Ayrenn snorts, breaking into a weak laugh. "If anything, I find myself loving you even more."
She cradles Ayrenn's face in both hands. "So please – don't think of letting me go. I cannot bear the thought of living without you."
Ayrenn smiles, then presses a soft kiss to Sielaire's lips. "Neither can I," she murmurs, taking Sielaire's hand and clutching it to her heart. "And I will let nothing tear you away from me – I swear."
A/N: Hey peeps, just a lil note. I'm thinking of easing up on Devotion updates...sometime. I feel like I've written most of what I want for these two, barring a few more ideas and AUs. I still love this fic and will write more, but depending on how it goes, the updates might get shorter, or infrequent. We'll see. But there'll be more to come, that I promise. So no worries ;)
tldr; updates might get shorter or irregular. And thanks so much for following this fic so far 3