The mortar and pestle in Torina's hands took several minutes to warm up to her body temperature. Everything in the Inner Sanctum still showed the results of decades, centuries, of Vyrthur's dark magical influence. Though beautiful, the ice around them fely ominous and threatening. It's cold soaked through everything. Torina had to keep sparking the fire in the alembic to keep the potion brewing temperature steady.
All that was left was to wait as the ingredients boiled down into a useable concoction. Her stores were near depleted after the fight with the former Arch-Curate.
"If you require more ingredients, I can assist with their collection."
Gelebor's clothes were soft and white, decorated as intricately as his armor, and much quieter. It explained how he could easily sneak up on the mer as she worked at the alembic. She thought the change in clothes suited him quite well, accenting the strength and agility the full set of ancient armor hid most of the time.
"Good afternoon, Gelebor," she said, using a small bit of her magicka to reheat the potion again. "Though I appreciate it, I still have an overfull satchel that I should use before collecting more and plenty to use for what I need. How are you feeling now that you're above ground?"
Taking the other wooden chair in the small alcove room, Gelebor relaxed into it, crossing his legs. He watched Torina work with an openly curious gaze and the friendly scrutiny made the skin on her sharp cheekbones warm slightly. She was being so careful not to let him see the way his unwavering gaze affected her that she almost didn't hear the answer to her question.
"It's strange to be back above the surface. I missed the passing of time very easily where I couldn't see the sun."
"Makes sense," Torina said. "And the sunrises and sets here in the Vale are among the most beautiful I've seen in all of Skyrim. I'm sorry you missed so many of them."
Gelebor hummed in agreement and approval. "Yes. Though the valley has changed dramatically since I last was here, it's beauty is only changed, not diminished."
A companionable silence fell between the mer. Gelebor offered to assist Torina as she kept working on potions for healing, stamina, and a few poisons when she'd run dry of beneficial concoction combinations. She openly, and gladly, watched the way his hands worked as he moved around her to replenish most of her healing potions in sturdy glass vials.
Neither made mention of the elephant in the room, that Torina and Serana would be leaving soon towards a fight to the death. Not only that, but there was a strong likelihood that if they could not use the chantry to return to Darkfall Cave that more Falmer blood would be spilled. Killing never pleased them, but the Falmer would leave them with almost no choice. The idea of slaying more of the changed snow elves made her sick to her stomach.
"Is something troubling you, Dragonborn?" Gelebor's voice echoed slightly on the icy walls around them. "You were so focused when you first entered my sanctuary those days ago, and now a shadow fills your brow."
"Dragonborn? What are you on about, Paladin?" Torina kept her eyes on her work as she replied, feigning ignorance.
"I am much older, and far more observant, than you think. I know the tales of Dragonborns are more than legends, and this age was due for another champion to walk the land of Skyrim."
"I still don't know how you assume such-"
"The dragon skeletons on the lake's surface below," Gelebor said, interrupting Torina's soft protest. "Those would not stay dormant for any average man or mer. I have seen the way a dragon can recall itself to the plane of Mundus. To call the soul of the dragons into your own body, to devour them, and survive requires much more."
Torina pushed back some of her hair behind her ear, the braids falling out with minds of their own. She'd long stopped caring what people thought of her status as Dragonborn, so the churning in her gut was a surprise. Receiving any amount of scrutiny from this snow elf, likely the last of his kind, felt different.
Few she met could claim to live as long as Gelebor had, and even fewer of those weren't hostile towards Torina. Harkon would likely know of previous Dragonborns, of course, but she'd rather not try to keep him alive long enough to share a pleasant chat on the history of her soul.
"Did you know any before me?" she asked quietly.
Gelebor shook his head. His hands gently placed the perfectly shredded frost mirriam in front of her so she could continue.
"I have never known one like you, man or mer," he said. His voice was quiet enough that it did not reverberate off the walls. The tone made Torina's breath hitch in her throat and made it hard to swallow.
Gelebor seemed to realize how close he stood to Torina. Taking a step back, he continued to explain. "No. Before my time, the title of Dragonborn - of Dovakhiin - was scorned and feared. Too many claimed to be what they were not in an age where a Dragonborn could have made all the difference to Tamriel. To my people. Though the gods and daedric princes work in their own time."
"The destruction and betrayal of your people was a waste," Torina spat, crushing a bit of mushroom too hard, forcing her to start over with another piece of the fungus. "To believe in the eradication or subjugation of an entire race is barbaric."
Gelebor stepped back a bit from the alchemy table to take in the way Torina's hands shook and her neck colored with her anger. "Given your Dunmer lineage, I did not expect such from you."
Her face whipped towards him so fast that the braids in her hair fanned out away from her head. After fighting the odd feelings Gelebor was making her feel - something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in more than a decade - her emotional state was more fragile than she would admit. She reacted strongly and poorly to his comment. The tiny piercings in her ears shone in the half light through the ice but her bared teeth shone brighter as she bared them in a snarl at the snow elf.
"You assume too much," she said with a hiss through her teeth. "As you are not the sum of what your people have become, I am not an example of what mistakes my race has made in the past. You may have lived much longer than I could ever hope to achieve, Gelebor, but that does not make you automatically wiser for your years. You have spent too long secluded from the rest of the world in your own fear."
Toina forced herself to catch her breath after her unplanned outburst. Without apology she finished the last of her potion making and started to clean and pack her supplies, brightly colored liquids cooling in their little bottles in a row on the alchemy table.
"I...Torina, I spoke out of turn..."
"It would be best if you did not speak to me again this evening," she bit back without waiting for what else he had to say. "I am still not myself. Thank you for your help with the potions. I will see you at sunrise."
And without looking behind her, Torina fled from the alcove with a satchel full of potions and a well of patience suddenly run dry.
Serana was meditating when Torina returned to their shared room. Depositing her work as gently as she could in her agitated state, both to not waste her ingredients and time or to disturb her companion, she turned and left the room within moments of arriving.
The accessible areas of the Inner Sanctum were sparse, so she was not sure which direction she should go in order to safely hide away from Gelebor until she felt she should return to her room. Torina settled on picking up the ewer she'd carried through the entire valley and going to a closed off room off the entry chamber. She didn't remember until the door started to slide open that she had had to kill the frost giant within. The frigid temperature kept the body from starting decomposition, unlike some of the carcasses she'd come across in the hot springs of the Rift. Small mercies.
She grabbed the ewer from the pedestal and drew it in with her to avoid the grinding stone door from trapping her hand. So long as she held it, she was safely hidden in this room with the only key out or in. Hiding herself in a corner of the room where she would not need to look at the frost giant, she drew her clothes more tightly around herself, and wept.
A quick thank you to those reading this! I'm attempting to stick as close to ES lore as possible, but will be taking liberties where I need to. They should make sense in terms of the plot as they happen.
And if you're not familiar with what I'm referencing with Dunmer and slavery, please take a look at some of the lore videos available on YouTube discussing the Dunmer's enslavement of Argonians.