Trigger warning for sexual violence
Chapter 3
Fredas, 16th of Hearth Fire, 3E 432
Mari stood in the kitchen of her little cottage, which was huddled against the steep mountainside of the Jeral Mountains and stared out of the window. Outside the world was shrouded in snow and hidden behind the grey curtain of the constant snowy showers. She sighed deeply, pulling her scarf tighter around her shoulders. It was Fredas, and she should be on her way towards Bruma. There was so much to do. With winter so close she had to restock her supplies and she had to visit all her patients to make sure they would get better before the temperatures dropped even more and the snow made her journey impossible. But here she stood, not willing to leave the safety of her cottage. Here, no one could hurt her, no one knew that she lived this far out in the wild mountainside. The city she had grown to think of very fondly, had turned on her with an unknown vengeance. It had sent her that annoying young Nord Edin and little Mari was by far not in the mood to cross his path again. She shook her head and laughed into the silence of her home. Edin was her least problem, to be honest. He was annoying sure, but so far he had never laid a hand on her. Not like Uvani had and Mari was terrified of meeting that mer again. Afraid of what he might do to her if they crossed paths again. It was by pure luck, she had escaped a more severe injury, than she already had suffered. For days now she was plagued by nightmares. Nightmares of angry red eyes. Dreams of greyish-blue hands, that closed around her throat and choked her to death. And she dreamed of fire. Angry blue flames consumed her alive until nothing more than charred and broken bones remained. She shivered at that thought while touching her cheek lightly. It was still red and very sensitive to touch, though her skin had healed up nicely so far. Her burn would heal without leaving a mark. Again a shudder ran down her spine as she finally turned away from the window.
Those eyes... He was intent on killing me...And I fear it was not his first murder.
She thought, not for the first time in the last couple of days and exchanged her scarf with her cloak. She had to go, there was no way around it. An hour later, she arrived at Bruma and made her way straight up to the Mages Guild. As much as she needed food, she would have to restock her various potions and some alchemical supplies, that were hard to come by. She had never been a good alchemist though, she was a natural healer, tapping into Nirn's magic. By far no real mage, but her given powers were enough to heal the sick or help during childbirth. She entered the Mages Guild's great hall and took a good look around. It was eerily silent in the great hall. The front desk was empty, and Selena was nowhere in sight. But in front of the bookshelf to her left stood a Dunmer mage she hadn't seen here before. Tall and lean he was clad in a simple black, short-sleeved tunic that revealed tattooed arms. Both sides of his head were cleanly shaven leaving only a strip of short raven-black hair that was pulled up in a tight pony tale. Mari raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. He carried himself like those Telvanni wizards, she had read so much about and wondered if he came from Vvardenfell. The mer half turned, sensing the presence of the little Breton behind him. A blood-red eye was narrowed on the woman, the other one was milky white and blind. In a fluid motion, he put the book back on the shelf and turned fully to face the little Breton woman. A deep frown darkened his features only to be accentuated by the long scar reaching from his forehead over his right eye across his cheek and down to the jawline. The other side of his face was adorned by red racial tattoos forming two half-circles. For a moment Mari's heart nearly skipped a beat, as she stood frozen to the spot while his eyes seemed to stare into her soul. But the moment passed and the constant frown vanished to be replaced by a smile.
"Mari, juli taljed ohuhl! Ku'ilm ot juli b'vek!" (Mari, good to see you! What a pleasant surprise.)
He rasped in his native tongue. Mari's whole face lit up, as she hurried over to her old friend and hugged him tightly.
"Sorilkad! It's so good to see you!"
For a moment, they remained in their embrace, before the Dunmer mage freed himself from her hug and held her an arm's length away. His eyes narrowed on her face.
"By Mephala! What happened to your face?"
The woman grimaced and covered her cheek with her hand as if to hide her humiliating injury.
"That's a long story..."
She said vaguely. Sorilkad raised an eyebrow before circling one arm around her shoulder and gently guiding her to a secluded back room. After closing the door and windows he turned towards the woman and said calmly.
"I'm listening."
Again she grimaced, but seeing that he would not let her off the hook so easily, she finally started:
"Last week, I ran into a Dunmer mage."
She shot Sorilkad a wry smile before shaking her head.
"A Dunmer mage with some serious anger issues."
Sorilkad's eyebrows wandered up on his forehead in disbelief.
"I can see that."
She shrugged helplessly.
"I don't even know why he was so angry to begin with. I just sat at his table and tried to talk to him. And then..."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"It escalated."
The Morrowind native nodded thoughtfully, carefully reaching for her cheek. A green glow engulfed his fingertips, as he conjured up a healing spell. Unconsciously Mari leant into the soft touch of his warm hand, she could feel the light prickling sensation of Magicka on her skin and closed her eyes in relief. His magic was so different from the other mages here at the guild. It seemed to be wild and untamed, like the land he came from. And yet her relief was instant. Moments later the Dunmer retracted his hand from her cheek and put his index finger under her jaw, lifting her gaze. His own stern eyes studied her face for a moment.
"Better, isn't it?"
He finally said, seemingly satisfied by the outcome of his spell. She smiled thankfully and nodded in reply. His eyes still fixed hers and in his dark gravelly voice, he asked.
"He didn't wear burgundy clothes by any chance now did he?"
Mari nodded with surprise.
"I've heard of him. Travelling merchant as far as I know. Though I presume that this is just a ruse and he is hiding something ... darker."
He paused, gently putting his hand under her chin.
"Shall I deal with him? I can make him...disappear."
For a moment, Mari just stared at the older mage, then her eyes widened as realisation dawned upon her what Sorilkad proposed.
"No...NO. It'll be fine. I just ignore him."
The tall Dunmer hesitated a moment, playing with the delicate golden ring through his lower lip before he nodded.
"Very well. But if he hurts you ever again, find me. I'll be happy to give him a taste of his own medicine."
Mari nodded thankfully, she knew that he had a little home somewhere along the shores of the Silverfish River. He had not said where exactly or what kind of home, but from what she had gathered, it had to be some sort of abandoned fort or chapel. Something she was sure to find if need be. She took a deep breath before a bright smile lit her features up. She reached up to tangle her hand in his raven hair.
"So … What happened to you? You had such beautiful long hair."
Sorilkad grimaced and with a sigh he answered.
"It's a long story, but to cut it short. Sacrifices had to be made."
They shared a laugh, as Mari remembered back to the day they had met. He had been stabbed in the chest and slashed across the face, so deeply the bones had been showing. He had never told her what exactly had happened, though he was brought to the Guild Hall by a grim-looking member of the Fighter's Guild, so she guessed a contract had gone wrong. By the time she was called, he had been feverish and unconscious from blood loss and barely clung to life, she had to put all her skills into healing him. It was the beginning of their friendship.
The sun stood low on the horizon when Mari came out of her last patient's home. It had cooled down a lot and her breath stood in white puffs of mist in front of her face and yet she liked the cool breeze that swept the snow into her face. The bite of winter made her feel alive when else she felt dead inside. She smiled happily. This day had turned out better than she had expected. And she really could call herself lucky to have such a friend like the Vvardenfell native Sorilkad Malur. Behind his often aloof and gruff demeanour, the Dunmer was kind and loyal to those he considered a friend. And she liked their conversations.
Too bad, that he is so seldom here in Bruma.
She thought, but as a Conjurer of the Guild, he was a very busy man. Especially since he made a point of never staying too long in one location. Still smiling she made for the Tap and Tack, but her smile soon faded, as she spotted a familiar face in the streets. One, she was not very fond of meeting.
"Oh no..."
She muttered and quickly turned around to hurry down the street behind the great Chaple of Arkay. Luckily for her, Edin did not spot her and remained where he stood. Like a good dog, he stood beside the great statue on the town's plaza, looking around. Slowly she walked by the row of small houses. Wooden one-story cottage-style buildings, that sat huddled against the city wall as if searching for protection against wind and weather. Briefly, her step faltered, as she passed by the Khajiit's house, who had helped her so unexpectedly a week prior. She still hadn't thanked the elusive man yet but decided that she would do so, as soon as she got the opportunity.
The opportunity arose only a couple of heartbeats later as she spotted the feline walking up to his house. His ears flicked forwards as he spotted her. Mari smiled as she said.
"I should have come to you earlier. Thank you so much for your help. You were so brave."
His tale swished back and forth as he regarded her with a toothy grin.
"This one doesn't need to be brave to chase off rats. Besides, this one likes his house not burned."
He paused a moment, looking back over his shoulder into the direction of the tavern. When his gaze returned to her, it was as cold as Bruma and the smile was gone. A cold shiver ran down Mari's back
"Word of advice, little kitten. This Dunmer is a dangerous man. If the little kitten wants to die in bed old and happy, the kitten should stay away from unhappy Dunmer."
Mari blinked at the Khajit in shocked surprise, as his words sank in. It only deepened her suspicions, that said Dunmer already had killed before. For a brief moment she saw his eyes again, the could murderous gleam in them. She visibly shook herself, thanked the Khajiit and hurried away. Behind her, J'Ghasta grinned widely.
"Run, pretty little kitten. It'll sadden this J'Ghasta when the unhappy Dunmer closes those pretty eyes forever."
He purred under his breath, before entering his home.
Mari calmed down as she finally reached Olav's Tap and Tack. If everything went according to her plan, she could have a small meal there and leave ere the night was old. With a little luck, she would be out of there, without having to meet Uvani. Alval Uvani took a deep breath and reached for the tavern's door handle. Night had already fallen and he had tarried a little on the way up here. But he could not pass up the opportunity to sink his dagger into a bandit's back. The man had never seen him coming. He smirked, remembering the shocked expression on the dying man's face, but practice does make perfect. He was startled out of his thoughts, as the door opened on its own, and he quickly retracted his hand. His scowl only deepened as he recognised the woman, exiting the tavern. She stopped dead on the threshold, staring up at him. Alval straightened a bit. Her gaze was not as frightful as he had hoped it to be but as cold as the night itself. Their gazes only met for a couple of heartbeats, then she pushed passed the mer as if he was just a mere stranger standing in her way. One of Uvani's eyebrows wandered up on his forehead in surprise. For once, there was not a mark left on her face, where he was sure that it would take weeks to heal. Her cheek had blistered after all. It annoyed him, he thought he had taught her a more permanent lesson. But what really caught his attention was the way she was behaving. It made his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. She treated him like he was only a lowly beggar, sparing him not so much than a short aloof glance. He could feel that anger already boiled up in him. The excitement of his previous kill was gone. But she was gone, out of town already, and he did not feel like pursuing her. He already knew her name and profession, he would find out where she lived in time too. And then the fun would start. With these thoughts, he finally entered the tavern to have his meal and a good night's rest. Rest, he did not get, because his thoughts kept returning to the Breton woman. To her blue eyes, that had stared so fearfully into his own and now there was nothing in them, just the coldness of the Void.
So the week went on and by the next time he arrived at the tavern, she did not even do so much as glance at him, even though they met in the tavern. No, she ignored him completely, which fuelled his anger. Fuelled his desire to give her a lasting impression. And while she was able to ignore him so easily, her eyes and face haunted his dreams and deprived him of sleep. Sleep he so desperately needed and he just could not run from those accursed eyes.
This went on for one more week and the month of Frost Fall was about to come. Again, the Dunmeri Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood tossed and turned on his rented bedstead in the Tap and Tack. With a deep growl, he sat up and rubbed his palms over his weary eyes. Again, the short glimpse he had gotten of the little Breton woman left him deprived of sleep. It angered him greatly, that she had this kind of power over him and unnerved him likewise. Maybe it was because she reminded him of days long past when he was still a very young and a much happier elf. Or maybe it was because of her big blue eyes, that seemed to look right into his black soul. Or maybe it was because she had tried to talk to him, even though he was rude, scared and hurt her. She had shown some interest in him and dared to stand up to him. That had impressed him. And deep down he had very much enjoyed interacting with her, even if it was in a very crude way.
But now her behaviour had changed. And where he had thought she would fear him, she treated him like he wasn't even there and because of this, his anger rose by the minute. And of course, he was angry because he found his thoughts returning to that infernal woman again and again.
This has to stop!
With another deep guttural growl, he swung his legs out of the bed and dressed, before he snuck out of the tavern. For a while, he wandered around the city of Bruma like a leaf in the wind, not knowing what he was looking for. That changed, as he saw a woman leave the Mages Guild. She was an Imperial, with brown hair and blue eyes. Out of instinct he melted into the shadow of the nearest house and watched the woman pass him by. She was much taller and heavier build than the Breton witch that plagued him so much but had some similar features as well. A smirk crept on his face, as he had a clear image in mind of what he would like to do. A method to stop his thoughts from returning to her constantly.
Close enough...
He thought darkly, while he began to stalk her, a shadow amongst shadows. She walked up to a small house on the backside of the chapel and began fumbling for her key. Alval stopped a moment, looking back down the road. The cottage of fellow speaker J'Ghasta was only a couple of houses down the narrow street. Should he go through with his plan? He was sure that the Khajiit would not like him hunting in his city.
Curses! We can discuss that at our next meeting.
He thought and with growing excitement he watched her put the key into the lock. A last glance up and down the road. No guards were around. The Imperial woman opened her door and crossed the threshold into the warmth of her home. As she was about to close the door, however, she saw a shadow rush at her. With a surprised little shriek, she hastily tried to shut the door but only moments later it was pushed open so forcefully, that the door hit her in the face. Dazed she fell backwards landing heavily on her backside. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind, but before she could recover her door fell shut and the shadow was upon her, pinning her down. Wide-eyed she stared up into the angry red eyes of a Dunmer with fiery hair. A shadow of recognition crossed her face. She had seen him before and had heard of his reputation. The back of his hand connected with her face so hard, it broke her nose. Tears shot into her eyes. She knew she should summon her Magicka and try to defend herself, but she just couldn't focus. She was frozen stiff in terror.
"You think you can bewitch me you bitch?"
He hissed, punching her face with his fist so hard, it knocked her front teeth out and tore the flesh on his knuckles open. But he didn't care. He drew his arm back again, this time shattering her facial bones even further and leaving the woman dazed but not dead.
"I'll teach you to leave me alone!"
He ripped her dress open in the front, revealing full round breasts. The Imperial woman's eyes snapped open, as she heard the ripping of her skirt. Felt the chill of the air on her exposed skin. Felt his hands claw the sensitive flesh of her breast. She tried to struggle, getting aware of what he was about to do. But with the injuries already sustained, she could do no more than flail helplessly, while he had no trouble pinning her hands down over her head.
"Don't play hard to get. Teasing me like this! That's not nice."
He whispered into her ear while unbuckling his belt with his free hand.
"Noooo please nooo. I'm sorry."
She whimpered, trying to move her lower body away from him. He pulled his pants down only far enough to grant his erection some freedom. Without hesitation, he shoved himself inside her, deaf to her agonised scream. Her blood soon made it easier for him to move in and out with relentless force, biting her breasts in the process. He came violently, but his rage had not yet faded away. Healing the woman enough for her to be conscious, he took her again, and then a third time, before he began to lose interest in her.
Two and a half hours later, Uvani left the house like a shadow and walked calmly back to Olav's tavern. There he collapsed on his bed, spend and tired yet very happy. Finally, every thought about the little Breton woman had vanished from his mind. Vanished just as the light in the Imperial's blue eyes had as he crushed her head down on the hardwood floor again and again until it cracked open like a ripe melon. He fell asleep with an unusual smile on his face and left the next day his step was light and his thoughts focused on some contracts, he had to give to his assassins. Hours later at high noon, a woman ran down the street screaming for the guards. She had been worried about her guildmate and went to her home only to find the door unlocked and her friend's body burned beyond recognition. And while the city guard investigated, a Khajiit stood in the shadow of his own home, ears flat against his head. And though he only seemed to be a curious watcher he listened in on the guard's conversation very carefully. And what he heard, was not to his liking. He growled deep in his throat. There was only one man he could think of, who would kill in that fashion. His tail swished angrily from side to side.
This J'Ghasta will have a word with a certain Dunmer...
He thought, baring his fangs and entered his house.
