Fate's Games
It Was Once Me
"Look on the bright side. If Whiterun is invaded, there's a good chance Nazeem will be killed," Danica assured.
Assured. Ahlam almost laughed at the word, at the phrase her friend had just spoken. It was ironic, coming from a priestess. In fact she did laugh, then muttered something that sounded like an agreement; but she didn't know; she wasn't particularly listening to herself anymore. The Dragonborn was listening. As Danica left, Ahlam asked him, "Looking for my husband, Nazeem? Check the Jarl's backside. That's usually where he stuffs himself."
It sounded strange from her mouth, especially after the lament she had just showered upon Danica. What had happened to him, to them? It hadn't always been this way, it hadn't. There was a time when she loved him with every fibre of her being. There had been a time when he couldn't even focus when she appeared and swept by him, smiling timidly in his direction. He had once followed her like a puppy, never daring to let her out of his sight.
She missed that. She missed the young man who had been so devoted to her, whose love had surrounded her in such a protective embrace that she had never wanted to let him go. He had always been arrogant, always been vain, always been disdainful, but he had loved her. Her, a woman of a lesser class then even him. He had loved her so, so much. She remembered when he used to sneak up to the roof of her house and wait there for her. When she joined him he had greeted her with a desperate kiss. There was no fail; and it was desperate, longing, and she felt such love radiating from him that she could have melted.
What had happened to him? Power… Power and riches… And in time his love for both had surpassed the adoration he had for her. There was no love in his touch anymore, in his kisses. It was routine for him, his mind preoccupied elsewhere, his mind everywhere but on the woman he had once vowed he would always love; the woman he had once vowed he would give all the power and riches in the world up for; the woman he would die for. There is a good chance Nazeem will be killed. But she didn't want that… she didn't want that… She wanted him back.
ES
He scoffed at a lesser who had dared provoke him, who had dared step in his way. Peasants, worthless, the lot of them. Not worth the ground they walked upon. Fools, each one. He was chewing out a worker in a shop now; the way the meat looked didn't suit him. How dare it not suit him? It had no right not to suit him. One more mess like this, the worker would be gone. Then she entered. He hardly spared her a look, enough to realize she was there.
He went back to his work, but still he felt her eyes on him. Finally annoyed he looked up, slightly put out, and demanded, "Well, what do you want Ahlam?" She was silent a long moment. "Speak up woman, I don't have all day!" he snapped sharply. He paused, though, and stiffened. There were tears in her eyes. Tears? Since when did she cry? He didn't believe he'd ever seen such a sight before. Pathetic. "Oh no, what now? Answer my question!" he ordered.
"To look," she suddenly replied. He blinked blankly.
"To look?" he incredulously repeated. "To look at what?"
"To look at you," she answered.
He stared blankly at her, quill still in hand. After a long moment he put it down and rose, asking, "Ahlam, are you feeling ill?"
"You used to look," she remarked.
"What?" he asked.
"You used to look at me; just look. Nothing else. You watched me from your family's shack," she remarked, voice cracking slightly.
ES
He felt his eyes soften. Soften? They'd been hardened? Since when? For how long? Why hadn't he noticed? "Aren't you afraid?" she suddenly questioned.
"Afraid? Of what? Nothing can touch me," he replied arrogantly, pride injured.
"No? They will come, Nazeem, they will come. What will your money and riches do for you then?" she asked.
"Who?" he asked.
"Who else?" she questioned, and he caught on.
After a long moment he asked, "Why does it concern you?" When did she start to care again?
"Because I… I don't… Never mind," she replied. Without a word more she wiped away her tears and walked up the stairs, him watching after her in confusion.
ES
She wept silently, holding the pillow close. It used to be him. It used to be into his chest that she would weep and tell everything to. Now nothing. She heard footsteps. She knew who it was. He paused in the doorway and watched, just watched. Oh gods, how he had once watched. Now she sensed nothing, no longing gaze, no love; confusion, maybe, nothing else. Confusion. After a long moment he crossed the room and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard as she wept. He made no move to comfort her, just sat and listened to her muffled sobs.
He looked out the window. The night was starry, the moon was full, bright, beautiful. Beauty… It's beauty paled in comparison. To who? His eyes widened as the answer came to him. Her. It paled compared to her… How had he forgotten? He looked over at Ahlam. "It used to be me you held, but it was so rare…" he suddenly remarked. He heard her sobs slow. "All I had to do was be near to you. Rarely did you hold me. You only wanted me near… But I wanted so much more… I wanted to… to hold you close and never let you go. I wanted to make it so the world would never hurt you again and all your sadness would… would end." His voice had cracked. Her lips slowly parted. She'd forgotten about that. Perhaps Nazeem wasn't the only one time had changed… "It was once me… I haven't forgotten."
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"If I knew…" he began. He looked gently over at her then lay next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Oh Ahlam, what that I could give you the world… Perhaps trying to do just that was what destroyed us." He buried his face in her hair, feeling a foreign stinging in his eyes. "If I knew, I would do all in my power to stop it. I would erase time if it meant you were happy."
"Since when?" she asked. She tried to sound angry, reproachful, it didn't work.
"I'm hurting you," he said, and in his tone was realization. Had he been so blind? Had he truly been so blind? She screamed in misery and burst into heart wrenching sobs. He could only listen to her and let his own tears fall. Tears, pathetic, but so was he… He cursed himself roughly then sat up, pulling her with him. Before she could ask he was bringing her out of the room, bringing her up higher, bringing her to the roof…The roof… Like so long ago.
ES
He sat her down and pulled her tightly into his body and suddenly began to sob, joining her in her mourning and rocking her back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he repeated. Over and over and over, and she could only listen in awed disbelief. "Oh divines, forgive me," he moaned. "Oh Ahlam, forgive me. Oh immortals, someday, somehow, I will make everything all right again, and this life, this man, this stranger, I have become to you, will be no more. If I must die to ensure your freedom, your happiness, I will do so in a heartbeat; there will be no thinking it over," he vowed to her; and she knew and felt the love he had once had for her flowing into her body again, the desperation, the longing, the desire and devotion. Oh gods! He still loved her, and that realization almost made her believe that the world would never harm her again.
"I don't want them to kill you," she suddenly said.
"If I must die, I must die," he replied.
"No!" she denied, shaking her head.
"You will be free of this stranger, free to love again, free to be what you wanted to be so long ago," he said.
"I love you! I love you, and I will not love again. If I must die at your side, so be it. I will not lose you," she sobbed, and all at once he had taken her lips, sealed them with a kiss so filled with love that nothing else mattered. He would make it all right again. Perhaps not now, but someday he would make everything right again.