Fate's Games
In My Time Of Need
He greets her, "We meet at last, my dear lady." The Dragonborn watches silently, no move to kill him for her sake, no move to do anything.
"What's going on here?" she demands of the bounty hunter.
"Come now, you didn't think you could go on manipulating people forever," he answers. Before she can scream he paralyzes her. She can hear his exchange with the Dragonborn. She curses the hero a million times over. If this Dragonborn killed Kematu now, there would still be no forgiveness. She would fight him until her dying breath.
He doesn't… He still doesn't… The Dragonborn leaves with no small amount of gold, spares her a guilty glance. Not guilty enough. They'll take her back to Hammerfell. She dreads to know what her fate there will be. As Kematu comes and gazes down upon her, a look of amusement in his eyes, she wishes she could spit at him, she wishes she could burst into tears and beg him on hands and knees to release her, that anything he was promised she would double. That she would do anything for him, anything… And there is no limit to that; even if it means… She does not dare think on such an outcome
ES
Traitor or not, it doesn't matter to him. He was tasked with a job, he would carry it through. He always had, he always would. There had been bribes given him before, gold beyond anything he could imagine, but he had his pride, his honor. In the long run it benefited him more each time he remained loyal.
They rode through Eleswyer, land of Khajiit; if only for an adventure. After all, there was no rush. She sat silently, hands bound tightly behind her as she gazed miserably up at the sky, over the land that could be her freedom. He'd always found it amusing, how the criminals he apprehended only showed their true feelings after being caught. Sadness, guilt, anger, triumph, he'd seen every reaction. All but this one she was displaying. Acceptance… Never had he seen acceptance before. It made him frown. What was the fun in that?
He let his men taunt her mercilessly, hoping to see a reaction, any reaction. Nothing. Catatonic. It was grinding on his nerves; it didn't sit well with him. No matter what happened, she never moved, never reacted. He had tried himself. Desperate to see any form of emotion he had tried to break her himself. Fear… Fear was what he wanted to see most. If only to see a hint of fear so his nerves would stop grating on him. He had tried to frighten her, stroked her hip or leg, whispered threats, whispered all the things that they could do to her, told her she was helpless, at their mercy, that she could do nothing it they decided to have a little 'fun' with her. They were all empty threats, but she didn't know that. Yet there was no fear…
There was a flash of anger at first, for Saadia had spotted his starting threats as lies. She had laughed once, so scornfully it hurt his pride, and he'd pulled back. But as they became more dangerous, as he adjusted his tone into the most sinister and lustful he could manage, there was a change. Not fear, never fear. There were tears; the first sign of tears he had seen from her. He had kissed her lips, then her neck, and there had been tears; and he had nearly given a victory cry except… Except she didn't move. She never reacted beyond the silent tears falling from her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. He'd backed off before he had realized he could have driven her further, possibly even to fear; but he'd backed off.
ES
Night after night she listened to his threats, his words, felt him stroke her. If she had been cut loose, he would have lost a hand multiple times over. It was at night that he delivered these threats. It had started in the daylight, but when she never gave him what he wanted, he stepped it up. Now night, the darkest parts of the night, stars shining above. Kisses now, and growls, and nips, yet he never acted on anything. It didn't stop her tears from coming. This battle he was claiming, but she would not give him what he wanted. He wanted her fear. He wouldn't see it. He would never see it. If he made good on his threats, he still would not see it. He would see fury, hatred, misery, and anguish, but she would not give him fear. She would die first. But she was getting a reaction from him.
Frustration, anger, annoyance, all these he displayed, all these she relished because he did not even know he was showing her all she needed to see to remain unafraid. Oh she was getting a reaction from him… And neither of them saw until too late what was happening to them…
ES
His kisses… they became gentle, tender. No longer taunting, no longer bitter or frustrated, but gentle, softer. The light caresses became different somehow, no longer staged, no longer faked. And each time she shivered and drew in her breath. Each time their eyes met under the starry skies there would be silence, and his hand would not come away from caressing her face, brushing strands of her hair from her eyes.
They never noticed when she began to fall asleep in his embrace, to his touch and whispered threats that were no longer threats, not anywhere close. They never noticed the change, not even when he began to lie next to her and draw her near, both falling asleep beside each other. He never noticed when he cut her bonds, she never noticed she was freed so that with a single strike she could kill him.
They noticed when Hammerfell drew closer with each passing day, when they could see landmarks of their land in the distance. Oh how they noticed. She noticed when his embrace became meek, afraid, uncertain. He noticed when she began to tremble and silently weep into his chest, finally begging, finally giving him what he had longed to see for so long. He didn't care. The satisfaction was gone and only pain and guilt remained. And she noticed the warm tear touch her face; the tear that wasn't hers as she pretended to be sleeping in his arms. She noticed the loving nuzzle, the soft kiss he placed on the corner of her mouth.
They noticed when he took her hands and cut her bonds in front of the other warriors' shocked eyes. She noticed and trembled when, wordlessly, he took her lips and kissed her in front of all his men and whispered to her, "You're free. Go." She noticed when she burst into sobs and clung in terror to him. Her begging to be released had changed to begging him to take her, for they both knew that if he returned empty handed, whatever punishment that had been reserved for her would go to him. Death, imprisonment, torture, it would all fall onto him; and his refusal to do so pained her more so than anything she had ever felt before. She would never see him again. She knew that if she left, she would never see him again; but he placed an amulet into her hand, Mara… A proposal that would never be, and she gazed miserably up at him.
"Please…" she heard herself pleading.
"I promise you, I will find you again; I will find you, and when I do you will be mine, and I will never set you free again," he vowed to her. She kissed him passionately then pulled away slowly, took the horse he gave to her, and rode into the horizon. His eyes never left her fading figure again, nor the direction in which she'd finally disappeared.
A/N: Quest References-In My Time of Need