Fate's Games
(A/N: Second up today. Honestly I felt sorry for Christer, but this was too tempting of a oneshot to write.)
Mistwatch
He had been born to bandits, and as such his whole life was spent amongst them. He lived their ways and knew nothing else. Nothing else, that is, until her. It was when he was part of the camp at Mistwatch. They had taken the woman by surprise and dragged her away screaming for help and ordering them to let her go. She had threatened them in the most horrendous of ways, but they all knew she could never act on her threats. She was their prisoner now. She was their prisoner, and he was the one assigned to guard her.
The first two nights she had spent cursing him to an early grave and spitting at him whenever he neared with food. It was an annoyance, no more and no less. Surprisingly enough he was a patient man, so her little fits hardly affected him. The third night she had wept. He had ignored as he always did, but stayed near in case she tried to take her own life. They wanted their prisoners alive. There was always someone willing to pay handsomely for the life of a loved one. The fourth night, when she finally began to resign herself to captivity, they had managed to engage in some generalized small talk. This served the purpose of soothing the captive, lulling them into a false sense of security. Ultimately it was a ploy to find out if the prisoner was worth keeping alive. If they weren't, they were killed. If they were, they were ransomed. She had given nothing to him, though, not even a name. The fifth night, he determined to try his hand again. This time the results weren't something he was ready for.
ES
"You've calmed some, since you were first brought here. That's good. Save your energy for when you really need it. What is your name? I never caught it last night," he remarked quite suddenly. He was the first to initiate small talk, you see. Normally it was the prisoners. They always had something to say. This woman, though, had been silent for the most part. At least so far she had.
She looked up at him, eyes narrowed and glittering resentfully. After a long moment she determined she might as well answer and get it over with. It appeared she would be here for some time. "Fjola," she replied.
"Where are you from?" he questioned.
"First give me your name," she replied.
He was silent a moment, thinking this out. Very well, he didn't see the harm in it. "Rhorlak," he said. "Now, where are you from?"
"Tamriel," she answered vaguely and defiantly.
Well, that was uninformative, he wryly thought. She was a feisty one. "I'm sure your husband is missing you greatly," he remarked.
She stiffened and he saw immediately that he had struck a nerve. After a long silence she finally replied, "I suppose he is."
"Marital trouble?" he asked innocently.
She scoffed. "Playing the innocent act, are we? Fine, I'll play along. My husband loves me with all his heart, he always has… I can't say the same… I ran away from him… I suppose… I suppose I had planned to for some time… I cared for my husband, make no mistake… But over time… over time he changed. I changed… There's no love left in my heart for him. I will always care about him, but love… love is gone, and I won't be tied to a man I can't stand…" she said. For a moment she was silent and he thought that perhaps she was done. Suddenly, though, she asked, "Do you know what it's like? Sharing a bed with one you no longer love? Feeling their hands upon you and their lips caressing your skin…? Can you begin to imagine how it feels to have them inside of you and touching your body when love dies?" she asked.
He was quiet, thinking these questions over. Finally he replied, gaze ever so slightly sympathetic, "I can't."
"At least you're honest about it. I'll tell you. It feels as if you are nothing more than a concubine or a harlot. It feels like you are being violated yet at the same time it doesn't…" she quietly said.
"Hmm," he murmured. "You felt trapped, a caged bird longing with its all to fly freely through the skies."
She slowly looked up at him, tears burning in her eyes. "Yes… I wanted to be free… that is the word," she soon verified. "Tell me, Bandit, have you been trapped before? Do you know what it is to be locked up?"
"I do," he confirmed. "Be grateful you could at least run." She started. He rose, shaking his head. He wouldn't go into more detail. Instead he walked away from her. She moved to the bars of her cell and took hold of them, watching curiously after the man who guarded her.
ES
Their conversations became more and more detailed as the days crept by, and more and more intimate. Soon she could hardly wait to wake up so that she could speak to him again. He, she knew, felt the same. As the days went by, though, she also became more and more despairing… Then one day he woke up to the sound of sobbing. He blinked confusedly before realizing who it was crying. Quickly he looked into the cell. Her body was shaking with her quiet sobs.
"Fjola, what's wrong?" he asked gently.
She opened her eyes, gazing at him. "I want to be free," she answered weakly.
He felt his heart plummet into his stomach on hearing her words. "Why do you want to leave? Do we not treat you well?" he asked after a moment.
"You treat me so very well," she answered.
"Do you tire of my company?" he questioned, tone more hurt than he would have liked it to be.
"No, no, never," she whispered, eyes widening as if the very thought shocked her. "You are the only thing making this imprisonment bearable." Her eyes became sad again, though, and she continued, "But what is life in a cage, and how much longer will your Chief keep me alive when he is receiving nothing from the effort?" Rhorlak shifted uncomfortably. That was a question he had been purposely trying to avoid answering for some time now. He didn't know… He didn't know… Without a word he rose and began to leave.
ES
"Are you out of your mind?" one of his fellow bandits asked.
"The woman has gotten to you, Rhorlak. Perhaps it's time we switched up the guard," another said.
"It's no wonder she was able to trick him into asking us to let her out. The woman is really very pretty," a third stated.
"Look, I'll take full responsibility for her. I'll watch her every move if I must, but please, give her a chance. Perhaps she would make a good addition to the camp," Rhorlak pled to them.
All eyes went to the Bandit Chief as they waited for the old man's verdict. Finally the man leaned forward and said, "You're letting your heart rule you, Rhorlak. Don't be fooled by a pretty face."
"I'm not!" Rhorlak insisted, though he was beginning to doubt it himself. "Please, just try."
The chief was silent a long moment. After a time he replied, "I'll tell you what. You can let her out, but if she flees or causes trouble your life is forfeit. Ask yourself, are you willing to risk it all for some prisoner?"
ES
His answer was yes, apparently, as he stood now before her cell, pulling open the door. "You may leave this cage, but you are still our prisoner, remember that. If you try and flee, we deal with you accordingly. If you cause trouble, we deal with you accordingly," Rhorlak warned. Before he could react she'd thrown herself into his arms, holding him tightly. He blinked blankly and blushed deep. After a moment he awkwardly put his arms around her.
"Thank you," she breathed.
"I am gambling my life by letting you out. Know that," he said, not that she would care if she had only been playing him.
She started, looking up at him. "What?" she asked in a whisper, eyes becoming worried. When, she wondered, had she begun to care so much about what happened to the guard of her prison cell? He shrugged, not bothering to repeat himself, and walked away. She watched after him in disbelief.
Another bandit who had been standing nearby chuckled and tossed her a set of fur armor. "Put it on," she ordered the prisoner.
"What did he mean by saying he was gambling his life?" Fjola demanded of the other woman.
"Simple, you run he dies, you cause trouble he dies," the woman replied. With that she walked away as well, leaving their captive to dress in privacy.
ES
She fit in immediately. Within days she had gained the trust of every bandit there. Within weeks she was practically one of them, laughing and eating and drinking with her fellows in this fortress of Mistwatch. Within two months she was one of them, robbing trading caravans and kidnapping passing travellers.
Months turned to years, three to be precise. She laughed merrily as she watched Rhorlak attempting to ride a stallion that they'd just stolen from a passing traveller. He was hooting and hollering excitedly. Finally the horse threw him to the ground and bolted, racing away to try and find its master. He sat up, laughing. She hurried to his side and took his hands, helping him to his feet. "Shall we go after it?" she asked, giggling.
"Leave it be. We have enough spoils to make the chief ecstatic," he replied. She laughed and hugged him tightly, grinning. He held her back. He liked the way her body felt in his arms, so soft and warm.
"I never thought I could live a life among bandits. I never thought I would feel free again. Thank you," she whispered to him. How many times had she thanked him, she wondered? It seemed every day since his letting her out of the cells so long ago.
"I did nothing, milady; nothing but convince them to let you out of your cage," he answered.
"You did everything," she said, absently tracing pictures on his chest as she stopped meeting his eyes, blushing faintly instead. "You freed me from my husband."
"Now how did I do that?" he asked, smirking in amusement.
She looked up at him a long moment, ponderously reading his face. Finally she answered, "You helped me to let go, to forget… You reminded me what it was to love…"
Confused with this statement at first, his eyes slowly began to light up in realization. His lips parted as he felt a flush burning his cheeks. "Fjola, are you saying…" he began. He had hoped to hear those words for some time now. He had hoped desperately, in fact.
She grinned softly and stood on tiptoes. Gently she pressed her lips to his. After a moment she pulled away and said, "I am saying that I love you."
"Do you know for how long I've wanted to hear those words?" he asked, laughing in glee. He didn't bother to wait for an answer. He caught her in his arms and pulled her close, sealing her lips with a second kiss. "I love you!" he exclaimed.
ES
It was only a month later that the old chief died, leaving Fjola—who had become a daughter figure to him—to take over Mistwatch. You would expect resentment, but there was none. She had become a highly skilled bandit. Rhorlak felt only pride for her. He kissed her lovingly that night, when they were alone outside. "Finally, I have you to myself," he whispered.
She giggled and was about to answer when they heard a whinny and paused. The two looked guardedly over. On seeing who approached they relaxed. Riding up to Mistwatch was a bandit from a different camp. "Milady, an order from the Bandit King," the bandit said, handing the note down to Fjola.
"The King?" she asked, shocked. If he saw it fit to send a messenger at this time of night, it must be important. The bandit who had brought the message waited as she read. "What?" she asked, obviously distressed.
"What is it?" Rhorlak asked, coming up beside her and reading the note as well. He stiffened. It was about him. "What have I done?" he asked, now worried and more than a little frightened at this point.
"According to this you have impressed him. In fact, he wants you to move to Pinewatch, under the command of Rigel Strong-Arm, and aid her there. She has the power but she lacks the ingenuity to set up a racket that will go completely unnoticed by soldiers and travellers alike. She sent a request to the king to send her a man or woman with the creativity to help her," Fjola replied.
"I have a reputation?" Rhorlak asked, more than a little surprised.
"A good one," she quietly said.
"I'm to take him to Pinewatch tonight," the bandit on the horse said.
"Tonight?!" Fjola exclaimed, eyes wide as she looked up at the man on the horse. He nodded.
Rhorlak looked down at her and saw her sadness. He cringed and gently turned her to face him, tilting her chin. "It will be all right. We'll see each other again," he promised.
"I don't want you to go," she said, bowing her head low.
He kissed her softly. "I'll come back," he promised. With that he went to a horse and swung up onto its back. He blew one last kiss back at her and then rode off with the messenger who had come for him. She watched woefully after them, forcing a soft and sad smile.
ES
It had been good, at first, the change from Mistwatch to Pinewatch. It had been an excellent fit, in fact. Until, that is, it wasn't. He disliked Rigel. Most of them did. He, however, had always been the one who had been most likely to act on it. A pity Roras had never seen that in him. Perhaps things would have ended differently for them both. Roras was another bandit under Rigel's rule, you see, but treachery was far from Roras's mind. It was her gold he was after, and then it was Rigel herself. Rhorlak, on the other hand; well, treachery appealed to him when it came to her. After all, he had nothing in the way of friends tying him here.
Not to say Rigel wasn't a good Chief—this note she'd left him complimenting him on a job well done and offering him a case of wine proved as much—it was just… His loyalty wasn't here… and after Roras… Well, long story short, with the only friend he had in this place gone, he wanted out. Naturally, then, when the Dragonborn came, offering the opportunity to break free, he had taken it without hesitation, accepting the man's bribe and betraying the whole operation to the hero. That was his greatest mistake, because you see, the Dragonborn had left Rigel alive.
ES
He knew Rigel was after him. It hadn't taken long to determine as much. He galloped towards Mistwatch at a breakneck speed. He rode up to the fort and leapt from his horse. "Rhorlak!" Fjola exclaimed in alarm, hurrying to greet him. Her watchmen had come to her telling her of the man's desperate arrival. As badly as she wanted this reunion to be a happy and romantic one, it appeared that wouldn't be so. "What are you doing here? What's happened?" she demanded.
"I betrayed Rigel," he answered without batting an eyelash.
"You what?!" she exclaimed in shock, eyes widening. He had betrayed Rigel, of all people? "Have you lost your mind?"
"Apparently," he answered dryly.
"You must run," she said, pale. "You won't be safe here. She knows about us, darling, she knows!"
He cursed loudly, holding his head and pacing. "Then I break for the border," he finally said, going through all his options and settling on getting out of Skyrim.
"Go softly and quickly, my love," she said.
"Wait… Then I will never see you again!" he exclaimed in alarm, realizing this and turning to her desperately. He would sooner die than leave her.
"I will find you," she promised, tears shining in her eyes. "I will find you," she repeated.
"No! I will die here if I must, but I won't leave you, I can't!" he exclaimed, cupping her face gently.
"And I will die before I see her take you from me," she answered, tears burning in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, sobbing and pulling her close. He hadn't meant for this to happen, none of it. One mistake and he would pay a price steeper than any other he had ever paid before. "I shouldn't have done it; I shouldn't have turned on her."
"It's too late. Please, run from this place," she pled calmly, but her voice broke on her tears.
"Will I see you again?" he asked, because despite her promises that they would, he needed to hear it again.
All at once she took his lips, kissing him passionately. After a moment she drew away and whispered, nuzzling his nose with hers, "You'll see me again."
"I love you," he whispered. She nodded sadly, forcing a smile. He swung up onto his horse and galloped away. She watched miserably after him then looked in the direction of Pinewatch. Rigel would not have her lover. She wouldn't let her.
"Come after him, I dare you," Fjola whispered softly, caressing her blade challengingly.