Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. The spring semester of college caught me in a whirl and I had completely forgotten to post up chapters.

Chapter 12: Tears of the Womb

Siena crouched in the nook of the rocks, watching the plaza where the Gatekeeper stood with nervous shuddering. It was so close, so unbearably close; if it noticed her, it would charge, and in her spot of hiding she would be powerless against its rotten muscular force.

But she had to hide here, and wait until midnight. So far the atrocity had yet to notice her, or maybe it had but did not care, as she had yet to set foot upon the polished white stones of the Gate. Either way, she could not risk leaving this spot to search for Jayred's body; she wasn't even sure she wanted the confirmation of his death. This close to that horrid thing, she needed some form of hope, even if it was the slim hope Jayred was still alive. The only thing she had done was grab the bow she had dropped on the way to her hiding place.

Time passed without Siena's immediate awareness, and soon she heard the step of feet upon stone. Tensing, she pressed herself even closer to the rock, trying to become one with it. In the darkness, she made out a form small above, and large below, moving swiftly towards the Gatekeeper. Golden hems caught the light of the moon, and further revealed the dark form.

"Well, my child-" The voice was undoubtedly Relmyna's. "-how are you this evening?" The Gatekeeper lumbered towards her, and Siena watched as it knelt on one knee to be closer to Relmyna, and gave a garbled groan.

"I am so proud of you, my child." Relmyna's voice had dropped, and Siena found herself unconsciously leaning forward to hear better. "You crush our Lord's enemies to dust." She sounded proud indeed, and the Gatekeeper made a noise Siena had never heard from it before; like a happy whine. She blinked in surprise, mouth dropping.

"You are strong like Him." Relmyna replied, raising a hand up to caress the sandpaper flesh of the undead being, cupping the massive cheek in her hand. "I made you for Him." She spoke even softer, and Siena narrowed her eyes. The Gatekeeper titled its head to one side quizzically. Maybe it too had detected the somberness of her tone. "But despite that… still He refuses me. Why? Why?" She withdrew her hand, plucking at something near her bodice. Siena heard a sniffle.

Relmyna was actually crying. Siena never thought she would actually be witness to such a moment, when that vile witch of a woman actually cried, revealing femininity beneath her disgusting hide. But here it was; and she had to get those tears.

She was tempted to dash out and take the handkerchief now, and run. But the Gatekeeper stopped her. Not with a physical confrontation, but with its action towards Relmyna. Its hand actually reached for the necromancer, and it emitted a low whine. Despite the gruesome countenance of the thing, she couldn't stop herself from thinking of a small child, reaching out to a crying mother and seeking to comfort her.

Relmyna broke this image when she stepped back, dropping the handkerchief on the white stone in her haste to get away. "No! Remember what happened last time, when you touched my tears? Keep away!" The Gatekeeper emitted a pained whine as Relmyna turned and ran, dress fluttering behind her in the night.

Siena was paralyzed with amazed confusion. Had she just witnessed an expression of emotion… of love… from that abomination? Was it even possible for the undead to have emotion? There was no doubt something emotional had occurred, but was the Gatekeeper's reaction truly emotional?

A soft moan made her jolt, and she looked at the Gatekeeper as it sat down on the stone floor, staring without eyes at the stairs from which its 'mother' had come. Siena balked, a cold tingle washing over her. It was emotional. And such a discovery was disgustingly horrifying. She'd actually instilled true soul into that hunk of flesh. It wasn't just an abomination of the body; it was an abomination of soul.

How long she waited, Siena forgot, but the Gatekeeper finally rose and turned its back to the stairs, looking at the large bust of a man between the two gates. It was now or never, and Siena had no intention of sitting there a moment longer.

The agile Dunmer thief dashed to the edge of the white stone plaza, reaching out her hand and snatching up the handkerchief before throwing herself to the side, to avoid landing on the plaza. When she stopped skidding, she got up and started running, not bothering to look back and see if the Gatekeeper followed.

When Siena arrived back in town she moved straight to Jayred's hut, having no trouble getting there as no one but Relmyna would be up. The image of the necromancer sniffling in a heap on her desecrated bed made Siena smirk, and she entered the hut without even flinching at the boney décor.

She set the handkerchief down on the table, and moved through the hut with a purposeful vigor, looking through the barrels for something. She apparently failed to find it, as she ended up staring at the chest by the door instead, before pulling Jayred's lockpick out of her boot and kneeling before it.

When the lock clicked and she lifted the lid, she smiled sinisterly. She had found her quarry, and lifted the remains of the Gatekeeper femur from the chest, setting it on the floor near the table. The best way to kill something is with the bones of its own. Jayred's words echoed in her mind, and she sat on the bench, looking at the femur for a moment. Slowly, her iron dagger –the one Belmyne had tried to kill her with- was removed from the sheath, and she got up, sitting on the floor next to the bone.

She had the arrows, she had the tears. But there was one thing in her arsenal missing; one weapon against the Gatekeeper she didn't have. She needed the best weapons possible if she were to fight that thing alone. And as Jayred said, the best weapon was a bone. Siena closed her eyes, pushed her glasses up her nose, and exhaled slowly.

I'm doing this for them… Belmyne, Jayred, Nanette… All of them. I can't afford to take chances. I have to do this. She brought the dagger to the surface of the bone, angling the edge.

For them.