Hiding
I hadn't been stuck with a more awkward, suspicious, tense, and anti-social group since summer camp as a teenager. Nobody looked at one another, nobody talked to one another, nobody so much as burped or farted in case they might get noticed. Heaven forbid we should introduce ourselves, either. Mauronk gave me a wide berth and barely looked at me, and I could really have used his support after what we went through. What he confessed.
We trudged through a blizzard for a few hours before a suitable shelter presented itself. Dar'Zher spotted a cave we might all be able to fit in, then he affected simpering courtesy, deferring to the armed warriors to 'ensure our safety.' I had this immediate image of Sala in my head, saying, 'Asps. Very dangerous. You go first.' The Imperial gave him a disgusted look as he went inside, followed by Mauronk and the Dunmer.
While the rest of us civilians waited, stomping our feet and jumping in place to warm ourselves, the Argonian kept looking at me... in some way. Honestly, her reptilian face was almost impossible to read. I arched my eyebrows invitingly, to kind of urge her to say something, but she didn't seem to understand. Figures; I'm sure my human face was just as indecipherable. Sidling up to her, I asked if she was all right.
"I am well enough," she shrugged. "It is you I worry for."
Sighing, I told her in a low voice, "I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry about me."
"He was not drugged," she hissed back, her narrow tongue flicking the air. "All know he wasn't."
"It's not...," I began defensively, but I was interrupted by the return of our brute squad.
"Come inside," Mauronk beckoned from the mouth of the cave. "Nord, do you know how to dress a bear?"
Not gonna lie, the first thing to pop into my mind was a giant grizzly wearing my slut dress.
"Of course," the Nord replied, obviously not blessed with the kind of mind I had. He led the rest of us inside, and now we knew what the Orsimer was talking about.
The cave hadn't been unoccupied. There was a great big bear inside, probably having a nice winter nap until the intruders waltzed in. Now it was dead, thankfully not hacked to pieces as a result of a violent fight. I supposed we had the Dunmer to thank for that; she was assembling a campfire with some of her reserve magicka. The men gathered around the hairy corpse and commenced the thoroughly disgusting task of skinning.
Okay, the non-wimpy men, anyway. Dar'Zher bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes, then retreated to a far corner with his pack. I couldn't swear to it, but it looked to me like he pulled a tiny little flask out and downed it quickly.
Great. A skooma addict. Just what we needed.
The cave wasn't deep, at least. With light from the campfire and some spell the Dunmer cast, we were able to properly investigate the confines and learned it was just a shallow den. Those of us not up to our shoulders in bear guts (or flipping out on skooma) laid out bedrolls and huddled around the fire. Just us girls, in other words. The Redguard hadn't stopped hugging herself, and now she was staring into the flames without blinking. Not to be outdone in reticence, the Argonian idly stirred and poked the edges of the fire with a stick. I couldn't help it; these ladies needed to talk it out, and if someone didn't break the ice, they'd implode under the weight of their trauma.
"Um... I was wondering something," I ventured, trying for casual. I think I rolled a critical failure, because three pairs of eyes turned toward me with nothing like, 'Yes? Please, go on' in their expressions. Only the Dunmer brushed off her robe and seemed willing to talk.
"What were you wondering?"
"Just... how long were you all... in there?" I asked awkwardly. "Before we showed up?"
If possible, the Redguard retreated even further into herself, hunching her shoulders and cringing from the question. The Argonian bowed her head and said nothing.
"It is difficult to say," the Dunmer gamely replied. "A month, perhaps? The passage of time was not easy to discern. I recall when each of the others arrived, though... vaguely." Frowning, she added, "There was but one goal on my mind. Any distraction from achieving it..." She shook her head. "I barely made note of anything beyond the Imperial."
"So you didn't know each other before...?" I prompted, focusing on the apparently more forthcoming mage. She smiled, but it wasn't an amused or even remotely happy smile.
"That is... rather debatable," she murmured. "How well does one truly know the man with whom one shares a bed for one night?" I blinked with surprise, but couldn't muster a reply. Her lips twitched in another ironic non-smile. "He struck my fancy, so I bedded him."
"Oh," I managed, and I think I even blushed. The Argonian was now looking at the Dunmer.
"Do you know his name?" she asked, then added quickly, "I am not asking it. None need disclose who we are. It is preferred that we do not, yes?"
"Indeed," the Dunmer agreed. "No, I did not care to know his name then, less so now. A similar storm to this one drove us from the road to the inn, and strong drink brought him to my bed. We... warmed one another most of the night, expecting to part ways in the morning. Tacitly agreeing not to speak of our tryst to anyone afterwards."
"Then what?" I urged when she paused. She almost looked like she was remembering that night fondly. I suppose by comparison, a mutually agreed upon screw in a hotel might seem like a really awesome time, given what happened after.
"Well," she sighed, "simply put, the innkeeper, that wretched woman, knew of our liaison, and asked if we had been lovers long. Of course, we denied it. Denied what had passed between us, denied any association before that night, denied pursuing continued relations. She seemed nervous, and pried further. We resisted, and she became frustrated and angry. She left us then, only to return with the ale we had requested. The Imperial succumbed first."
"Oh my god, what?" I breathed, practically on tenterhooks. Her expression became grim.
"I should have been on my guard," the Dunmer continued. "Her questions... They were quite personal, and invasive. The Imperial passed out at the table, and I soon followed. When I woke, I was in that room, my clothing and gear taken, lying upon a bed next to the Imperial in a similar state. It seemed his dose was greater than mine, or I was more resistant. Regardless, we hastened to the door and tried to get out, to no avail. It seemed that we were trapped."
"When did the drugs take affect?" I asked. "Not that I'm looking for the smut in your story, but... they hit me with it right out of the gate."
"They did not use potions at first," she explained. "The innkeeper came to us after we had fretted for a few hours, and told us we should enjoy ourselves. Barely clothed, yet clearly armed, men brought platters of food. She brought... devices. Restraints. Various... objects meant to... inspire us, I suppose. She told us that we found pleasure in one another's arms last night; we were free to indulge ourselves to our heart's content, without fear of discovery or contemptuous glance. She even demonstrated the use of the rose for us, as if watching her receive the attentions of two men at once would so arouse us we would seek to join them." The Dunmer blanched as though she were nauseous. That's kind of how I felt, too.
"You're saying they figured you'd... just...," I began, and she grimaced.
"They assumed we restrained ourselves for fear of being looked upon with disdain," she said sourly. "No such thought entered our minds, for we had no intention of repeating what amounted to a single night's drunken debauchery. When I bed a man, I do so on my terms. I do not 'hold back,' fearing the opinions of others."
"Good for you," I said approvingly. She may be a cold woman, but I had to give her props for being an independent one. Under other circumstances, she was probably a lot more approachable.
"We resisted their coaxing for two days," the Dunmer went on. Now that she'd started, it seemed she wanted to get the whole story out. I have to confess, I was curious as hell. I never knew Sanguine to be the 'drug'em and rape'em' kind, but then I didn't have that tight a grasp on Daedric Princes and their cute little foibles. For all I knew, he sometimes branched out into other Princes' territories just for a change of pace. Being immortal probably gets boring after awhile. "I gathered, eventually, that they began experimenting on us, still attempting to drive us into some manner of embrace, even a clumsy one. Most of their amateurish attempts resulted in us becoming deathly ill. One concoction they slipped in with our ale was so vile we lay in puddles of sick, too weak to move."
"Aphrodisiacs," I muttered, and she paused to look at me. "That's what they were trying to brew up, wasn't it?"
"I do not know that word."
"It's a chemical that... well, allegedly makes you want sex," I explained lamely. "Most of the things where I come from that are called aphrodisiacs turn out to be fakes."
"As you learned yourself, they discovered a potent... aphrodisiac, one that overtakes the imbiber's will, yet leaves them aware. Horribly aware, yet unable to deny its affects. We coupled madly, then passed out from sheer exhaustion, only to resume once we'd woken again."
A little gasping whimper caught my attention, and I finally noticed the Redguard. She was holding her stomach with her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes closed. Tears stained her cheeks. I didn't even think about it; I reached out and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," I told her softly.
"I invited it," she whispered, her voice muffled behind her hand. "I was... curious."
The Dunmer and I exchanged a baffled look. "I'm sorry," I said uncertainly. "You invited what?"
"How can I face...," she breathed, covering her face with both hands. "The innkeeper... I did not know... I... I met her at a... a roadside shrine... to... to Sanguine."
I think my eyebrows shot over my head. I tried to keep my startled cry of disbelief casual. Another epic fail. "Really?" She winced, and the Dunmer gave me an exasperated look.
"If it will ease your sorrow, you may tell us," she told the Redguard gently. "We will not think less of you."
"I... I was curious," the Redguard repeated, her voice so low we could barely hear it. I wasn't the only one leaning closer. She swallowed with difficulty, and kept her gaze on the flames. "I had... certain... vile... fantasies. I dared not... indulge or... even speak of them. I could not tell my husband of them; he would murder me." Her eyes darted to each of us. She looked terrified, humiliated, appalled... "Yet I... sometimes... looked on... with too much interest, to his mind."
"Khajiit?" I probed uncertainly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip, and nodded.
"A pe-peddler hawked his wares in a nearby village," she whispered. "I found him... interesting. My husband... did not like how I treated with him. He... he spoke firmly to me on the matter." She touched her cheek in what looked like an unconscious gesture. The Dunmer and I exchanged a meaningful glance. "I left for a short while, most upset. Perhaps I lost my way..."
Her voice trailed off, and I wondered what she was leaving out. I would bet my granny's girdle she got slapped around and yelled at for looking at the Khajiit, but it seemed rude to ask.
"I remember when you were brought in," the Dunmer said quietly. "You were not under their sway yet, were you?"
"No," she replied. "But he was."
"That explains... Oh dear." The Dunmer moved quickly to the Redguard's side and put an arm around her shoulder. The Redguard burst into tears and leaned on the mage. I confess, I was a bit confused.
"Call me stupid, but...," I prompted, and the Dunmer sighed.
"I heard her crying for help, but could do nothing, so bent was I upon my own diversions," she said grimly. "Undoubtedly, defiance led you to that place, true?" The Redguard nodded, but couldn't speak. "But when faced with the realization of your darkest fantasies, you changed your mind. Unfortunately, it was too late." Again, the Redguard nodded.
I couldn't help it; I turned a baleful eye on Dar'Zher, who had passed out in the corner. Holy crap, he really did rape her. I felt like being sick all over. And then to drug the woman so she couldn't help but demand that her rapist do it again and again...
"Why?" I begged of no one in particular. "How in the hell can anyone... I just don't get it. I really don't get it. Is a temple that important?"
"To that woman, it was," the Dunmer replied.
"But surely," I protested, "if they wanted it that badly, they could've used their own members. I didn't make a list of the different races involved, but I seem to recall a mer or two in the tangle of bodies here and there. I'm sure they could find other Sanguinites to..."
"To bear mixed breed young?" she finished, arching her brow. "Now why on earth would they want something like that? Their purpose, their goal, their desire is to indulge in the forbidden. There is nothing remotely scandalous about having children, nor is it a simple matter to discard your own offspring. Forced upon another, an abomination has no connection to them. They may slay it without guilt."
"Oh crap," I groaned. "They were making us fuck... to have kids... they were going to kill."
"I do not know if that was their goal," the Dunmer warned. "I rarely overheard their conversations. Most of the time, I was... preoccupied. And they seldom spoke in that room." Sighing, she shook her head. "I do not think the innkeeper knew at what point she ceased to promote Sanguine's designs, and began to follow Molag Bal. Nor did she likely meet her end realizing she'd been seduced by Him."
"How is that possible?" I asked skeptically. "Don't you know which Prince you're following? I thought that was obvious."
The Dunmer arched her brow and gave me the universal, 'I'm so sorry you're that dumb, you poor idiot child' look. "The ways of the Daedra can be subtle, if there is something to be gained. In this case, I believe it was simple amusement. I would not be surprised if Sanguine had a hand in it somehow, if only to grant permission for the use of His follower. For those of us who study the Daedra and their spheres, such manipulation is easier to detect. But if all one knows is a single Prince, one may not realize when one strays into the realm of another."
"How?" I prompted, still not getting it. She gave me the annoyed teacher harumph.
"We are simply mortal," she explained only halfway patiently. "We cannot know the workings of an immortal's mind. Not of Daedra, or Aedra. If the immortal does not speak to us directly, we can only guess at what it wants. Their fickle nature cannot be predicted or discerned, so some guess wrongly. I believe this woman innkeeper assumed that Sanguine would be pleased by the temple, and would not care how it was brought about. I also suspect she is now finding out that her manner of securing such a place for the indulgence of Sanguine's followers did not meet with the Prince's approval." A dry smirk tipped one side of her mouth. "Perhaps another has gathered her soul to Himself, and... rewards her efforts."
Honestly, the thought of that woman being 'rewarded' by Molag Bal was rather maliciously satisfying. It didn't much help the Redguard, though. Her tears were spent, but she was still upset.
"You are... an alchemist, aren't you?" she asked the Dunmer, who nodded. "Can you... is there something... I want to forget. As if none of it ever happened."
"Only time may do that," the Dunmer replied kindly. "Understand this, and perhaps it will grant you peace: neither of you wanted what was done. Not you, not Dar'Zher. He was not in his right mind, which it seems was likely already addled by skooma." She cast a withering look toward the sprawled cat's form in the shadows. "He was drugged, and was not aware of your resistance. Do you understand that much at least?"
"I... I suppose I do," the Redguard acknowledged hesitantly. "Then... I am... it must have been... me who was at fault..."
All three of us firmly said, 'no,' startling the woman. The Argonian reached out and took her hand.
"You had no say, once you were in the woman's clutches, just as I had no say." Her strange vertical eyelids flicked closed and opened again. "I sought shelter from the storm, just as the Nord did. Because we arrived at the same time, and were appropriately of opposite gender, we were taken. Both given the potions, both unleashed upon one another. There was no discussion, no offer given. We did not know why we were there, what purpose our coupling served, or who all of you were. We only knew that we craved one another, and had no power to resist."
"Exactly so," the Dunmer agreed. "Once they'd 'perfected' their potion, there was no longer any need for other enticements." She chuckled humorlessly. "I suspect they did not realize that the tincture they used did not unlock hidden desires within us, but rather invented those we did not previously possess." Nodding to the Redguard, she explained, "You may have held a fantasty to your breast, but that is all it was. It is completely understandable that you retreated from it when fulfillment was near enough to touch. Some fantasies are better left unrealized, as you learned to your regret."
Then she turned to me, and I found myself caught in the headlights.
"How came you and the Orsimer to the inn?" she prompted with mild interest, clearly in the spirit of sharing we'd cultivated. "I confess, his interest in you is bothersome."
"I... what?" Frowning, I gave her a probing look. "What are you talking about?"
"His eyes follow you about, as though his desires remain unfulfilled."
"Are you sure?" I asked challengingly. "His eyes are solid red. I can't even tell exactly what he's looking at." The Dunmer woman gave me another impatient look, widening her own solid red eyes. I swear, if she was from my world, she'd punctuate her expression with a resounding duh. "Oh. Right."
"I have seen it as well," the Argonian chimed in. "He has marked you, as is the way of his people. They claim their women with biting."
"Okay, first of all, we knew each other before... the inn thing," I interjected lamely. "We were travel companions."
The Dunmer's brow furrowed with sympathy. "Then you are doubly betrayed. One you trusted, taking advantage of your vulnerable condition." She shook her head and pursed her lips with disapproval. "If you require our assistance to keep him at bay..."
"No, you don't understand," I broke in. "This mark here? He gave me that before we ever got to the inn. We were... are lovers. And he didn't take advantage of me. He refused, because I was on drugs." Their stunned looks kind of embarrassed me a little. "We didn't want to say anything because of what you all went through. And especially with you all thinking he... raped me. He didn't. Not once. Mauronk isn't that kind of man."
"Mauronk?" the Dunmer said, looking startled. "His name is Mauronk?"
Wrong-footed, I slowly replied, "Yeeessss... Do you know him?"
"Not personally, but by name and reputation, yes," she nodded. If possible, her concerned expression got a thousand times more concerned. "I have served a jarl or two in my time here in Skyrim. Your Orsimer is a well-known sellsword. Quite a deadly one."
"Um... Yeah, I knew he was. Used to be. He doesn't do that anymore."
"Perhaps not," the Dunmer conceded. "There was the little matter in the Reach not long ago. I suppose after that..."
"Wait, what happened in the Reach?"
She shook her head and gave me a pitying look. "Foolish child, do you not know anything about your travel companion, your lover?" Tsking like an exasperated old lady, she huffed, "He led the hired men who cleared a nest of Forsworn from land claimed by the jarl. Men, women, and children, put to the sword. His sword."