I took a hesitant step into the shrine proper. "Umm. sorry to interrupt. Maybe I could, uh, come back later?" I gestured back towards the way I had come.

"Not to worry," Shal'ir said languidly. "We're finished here." He lavished a kiss upon his partner, who returned it eagerly.

I didn't know what to say. Knowing something was one thing. Seeing it played out before me was another. That they were both male didn't bother me. I had a friend back in Ald'ruhn who preferred men over women in his bed, and it made no difference to me. I couldn't stop staring at the entwined Dremora, though.

"Right," I said when I'd finally found my voice. "Well. This certainly explains how you've been able to avoid Pull Sickness all these centuries." I fidgeted with my hair, unable to pull my eyes away from them.

"Indeed," Shal'ir replied. His partner only smirked at me. They shared another kiss before they leisurely seperated. Shali'r turned onto his back, indulging in a luxurious stretch and giving me quite an eyeful.

Both Dremora had elaborate, glowing tattoos over most of their bodies. Shal'ir's were mostly serpentine, while his companion's were geometric and angular. They had Daedric characters tattooed on their bodies as well, and in Shal'ir's case, the tattoos were in a place that I knew had to have hurt like mad when he got them.

i They don't grow them like that where I'm from, /i I thought. Color heated my cheeks and I hastily turned away. Shal'ir's companion took note of this and laughed.

"Looking for something in particular, mortal? Is there something we can do for you?" Shal'ir chuckled at the lesser Dremora's sarcasm.

I swallowed hard. Forcing myself not to think of what his mocking implied I said, "I, well, actually, I just came to see how Shal'ir was doing for myself," I said, forcing myself to look at them again. The Caitiff was still very amused by my discomfort, but Shal'ir seemed to be lost in thought. "It would seem that I have my answer," I said. "I also came to tell you some of what my grandfather had said to me."

"Come closer, and speak. We certainly won't bite you," Shal'ir said, his red eyes glinting slightly. He was teasing me again. Apparently, sex had put him in a very good mood. Pushing aside my unsettled thoughts, I sat down.

Shal'ir listened closely while I related what my grandfather had told me. "That's why I'm not as shocked as I might be, catching you, err, busy. He explained to me about the Pull and what can happen."

Shal'ir nodded. He reached for his clothes and I felt something that might have been disappointment as he began to dress. His companion did likewise. Looking at the two Dremora, I felt something I didn't quite understand. The local Dunmer lads had never made me stammer or tongue-tied, and I was sure that my face was purple.

"Continue," he prompted, a trace of his usual sharpness in his voice.

I cleared my throat. "Well. We discussed the possibility of summoning a more powerful Dremora to defeat you in battle. He said that from my description, he had guessed you to be a Markynaz."

Shal'ir nodded. "Again, your grandfather amazes me. He is correct. Only the Valkynaz are more powerful, little mortal. They never appear in the Mundus, and cannot be summoned. A clever idea, but not a viable one." He glanced towards the Caitiff. "Excuse me a moment."

Sensing that this was a private moment, I turned my back to them. I heard Shal'ir speaking in a low voice in a language I didn't know, and the Caitiff responding in the same tongue. They spoke a moment more, and then the Caitiff returned to Oblivion.

"There was no need for privacy," Shal'ir told me, grimacing in the way that I had come to know was a smile. "I was but sending him home and thanking him for his…assistance. Tell me, Alaunel Mithryr: are you yet a virgin?"

I couldn't have been more flabbergasted than if he'd just professed undying love for me. "What? I, uh, that's a terribly personal question!" I squawked, forgetting to whom I was speaking in my shock.

The Markynaz folded his arms over his massive chest. "You caught me in a terribly personal moment," he stated. "I'd say we're quite even." His look told me that he expected an answer.

"I—yes. I am. And it's not because I'm some Dunmer prude with her nose in the air. I just haven't me the one I'm attracted to yet in that way." I stared defiantly back, daring him to say something sarcastic.

"I see. I must ask you something, else, now. Something that has nagged at my mind since first we met."

"What, you mean that wasn't it?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Shal'ir, still sated and relaxed from his mating with the Caitiff, only laughed. "Ahh, no. what I mean to ask you is this: why are you so interested in helping me? What good do you possibly get from it? Why do you not fear me, as most sensible mortals would?"

"Well." I took a deep breath. "Because it isn't right that you're trapped here. It's no better than being in a zoo. Why do I need to get something from it? And I never said I wasn't afraid. Courage isn't the absence of fear. It's doing what's right even when you know you could get your hand bitten off. Why are you asking me all this?"

Shal'ir turned away. "Because it is mortal nature to use us for their own gain and means to their ends. I cannot help but wonder: does this mortal girl seek to free because it is right, as she says? Or does she entertain the idea of having a grateful Dremora for an ally?"

"I—" I ground my foot into the dust on the floor. House Redoran stood for honor above all. I, as did many of my House kin, disliked having our honor called into question. "Well, this mortal does not use others," I answered as calmly as possible. "It isn't right, nor is it honorable. You saved my life. I seek to repay a favor that you did me."

"Do not forget: I am under compulsion to do so," Shal'ir grated. "Speak truly! I will know if you are lying, and my Kyn and I hate lies and deception of any kind." He moved to stand before me. Once again I felt overwhelmed by the difference in our sizes: he had to be close to seven feet tall.

I felt something else, as well. I pushed it firmly away, saying "All right. But still. As I said, it just isn't right! What did you do to that old man? Nothing. Perhaps he took a perverse delight in doing what you describe: bending another being to his will. Maybe he has a grudge against Dremora. Who the hell knows?" I'd raised my voice, but I didn't care. "All I know is that there is one of the most honorable beings I've ever met trapped in this world and he can't go home, and that's…just….wrong."

If he had issue with me shouting and glaring at him, he didn't say as much. Instead he calmly said, "You stand there and tell me that you do not use others, Alaunel. Yet did you not summon Karator for that purpose? To serve as your messenger?"

"I—well, I didn't know when I'd see you again. I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten my promise. But yes, I summoned him to deliver the message to you. I wasn't thinking in those terms, Shal'ir. Besides, you weren't too concerned about using him yourself, I noticed."

The Dremora snarled low in his throat. "Do not make comparison about that which you do not understand, mortal. And in all of this, you have not yet answered my question: why do you help me? What do you hope to gain from it?" His voice took on a sinister note. "Perhaps you would like to have me around so that I might make use of you as well? I saw how you looked at us, mortal. Is that what you want?'

I pushed aside memories of what I had seen. "No, that's not it!"

"Then why? Tell me now, or never return here again!" His eyes flashed scarlet as his hand dropped to his sword.

Furious myself, I snarled up into his face. "Because that's what friends do: they help each other!"

Shal'ir looked stunned. "You…consider me a friend?"

"Yeah," I said. My voice sounded oddly choked and distant. "I do. Gods forbid that a mere mortal would claim friendship with a Dremora. Right now, I don't know what I feel. I'll be back. Eventually." I turned and stalked out of the shrine before he could stop me, or before he could see that I was crying.