"Do not enter my realm and expect to leave unscathed." - Man O' War


In the central spire's control hub, Variks was hunched over alongside the Warden Servitor, all four of his arms elbows-deep in its central core. Consumed by none of its radiant glow, the machine hung dark and lifeless as the scribe fiddled about its inner workings. With a growl, Variks tugged a tangle of wires loose and narrowed his eyes at the frayed mess in his hand. Tossing it over his shoulder, he shot a glance in Meren's direction before he delved right back into the Servitor's core.

A few steps away, Meren sat perched on the room's only console, one leg crossed over the other. Beside her a small tool chest sat open, half its contents strewn across the length of the console. She watched Variks' efforts for a few seconds before she began to rummage through the clutter around her, doing her best to bring some semblance of order to the growing mountain of tools.

She didn't manage to make much headway before Variks wordlessly extended one of his mechanical arms in her direction, his fingers beckoning in an unspoken request. Scrabbling through the chest at her side, Meren pulled out a narrow, pointed tool and dropped it into his hand.

"No," Variks hissed, "the other one."

Trying not to roll her eyes, she reached back into the mess of tools and retrieved a nearly-identical implement. If she was honest, she didn't even know what half the tools were called, let alone what they did. "I'm not a mind reader, you know," she said as she swapped it out for the one in his palm.

Variks merely hummed in reply, turning the pick over in his hand before delving right back into the Servitor.

Shaking her head, Meren tossed the tool down onto the console with the rest of the clutter, giving up any hope of maintaining a tidy workspace. Her eyes shifted back to Variks' work, a smirk twisting her lips as another agitated growl escaped the Eliksni.

So grumpy, she thought, not daring to make the comment aloud.

But Meren could hardly blame him for his irritability. Not after what had happened yesterday.

This whole mess had begun roughly twenty-one hours earlier when the Warden Servitor had started to malfunction, leading to the initiation of a series of glitched subroutines in the arenas. It wasn't long before news of the fiasco had reached the ears of the Guardians, and they had flocked to the Prison en masse, eager for a new set of challenges. Things had only gone downhill from there as the Servitor's programming had continued to deteriorate. The challenges set forth had become progressively more ludicrous. And, unwilling to intervene, Meren and Variks had found themselves glued to the control room's viewport, the scribe chuckling in morbid delight as the arena before them had gradually descended into chaos.

Even Meren had to agree that it had been funny at first, watching the Guardians' futile attempts to dismantle an endless onslaught of mines. But it had quickly become evident that the resulting structural damage from the blasts was too high a price to pay for such amusement. It hadn't taken long for Variks to shut everything down then, bringing the hilarity to an abrupt end as he banished the Guardians from the Prison for the rest of the cycle and called in the local detachment of Corsairs to clean up the mess.

Sorting out the logistics of the aftermath had put Variks in a dour mood. Ensuring that the area repairs were structurally sound was a hassle. And repairing the malfunctioning Servitor was just one more time-consuming chore that had to be completed before operations could resume. It was all just more work for the already overworked scribe.

So Meren had done what she could to lift his spirits, tagging along and helping where she was able. Her efforts had managed to improve his mood slightly since yesterday. But not by much. There was still a ways to go until Variks was back to his usual self, but one way or another, he was going to cheer up. She would see to that.

Meren was pulled from her thoughts as one of Variks' lower hands reached out to her, open and waiting.

"What now?"

"Wrench," he growled.

Meren put her palms out, exasperated. "There are fifteen different wrenches over here. You're going to have to be more specific."

"The one I used earlier."

Her fingers closed around one of the tools. "That doesn't narrow it down very much."

Letting out a theatrical sigh, Variks turned away from the Servitor and took three steps over to Meren to look for the wrench himself. He dug through the mess beside her for a few seconds with little success. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, realization seemed to dawn and his eyes snapped to Meren.

"Is this it?" she teased, finally revealing the sought-after tool in her hand.

Variks exhaled slowly as Meren waggled the wrench in his face, his lower hands coming to rest atop the console on either side of her hips. "You must think yourself very funny," he purred, leaning in until his mask was inches from her face.

Unintimidated, Meren grinned. "Am I not?"

"No."

"That's a lie, and you know it," she chided, frustrated that she hadn't managed to get so much as a chuckle out of him.

One of Variks' mechanical hands closed around hers, pulling the tool from her grasp before he turned back to the Servitor, grumbling something in Eliksni - or maybe it was English - that Meren didn't quite catch.

Determined to turn his mood around, Meren went on, "You know, none of this mess would have happened if it was my consciousness implanted in the Servitor." She wasn't the one with a penchant for mines, after all.

"No," Variks retorted. "I am certain the mess would be far worse."

Meren wrinkled her nose. "How do you figure?"

"Knowing you and your gentle heart, the Servitor would likely turn the entire population loose. Out of sympathy."

"That does sound worse…" she mused before channeling her inner-Cayde, "But there's only one way to be sure."

"Merenn," he groaned.

"Let's set everything free and find out."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Variks was taking her suggestion entirely too literally. "How do you suppose that would end for us?"

"Oh, quite poorly, I imagine... especially with all the Hive running loose," she said, doing her best to keep a straight face. "I doubt we'd make it out of here alive."

Variks stared, scrutinizing her with narrowed eyes. It took a moment for the macabre joke to sink in, but when it did, the irritation finally melted from his face and he let out a long, chittering laugh.

"And you said I wasn't funny…"

After letting out a soft chuff, Variks replied, "Perhaps a little."

With a smile on her face, she watched him turn back to the Servitor to continue his work without so much as a growl or grumble.

Mission accomplished.

Though the joke seemed to have improved his mood, Meren didn't want to test its tenacity with a barrage of idle comments or irritating questions. At least not yet. So she kept her mouth shut, watching him pry away at the Servitor's core in silence, losing herself in thought.

It had been a week since Variks had recruited her as his research assistant. Cohort? Partner? It didn't matter. That was beside the point. Apart from the debacle with the Servitor, the past seven days spent in the scribe's company had been exceptionally pleasant. They had spent a good deal of time together digging through the Reef's archives in search of any pre-existing literature on Psions and conglomerating their findings within the Prison's databanks. Meren had loved every second of the research, pouring over one data file after another, taking fastidious notes with Variks at her side. And not once had he suggested something unpleasant like sending Kotoc back into the arena for more data.

But their time together hadn't been spent entirely on research or chores. Every evening, after the day's work had been finished, like clockwork they had retreated to the control room or the security suite in the lower levels where they had been content to sit in each other's presence and just talk. And talk they had, about anything and everything: the City, the Reef, Riis. Eliksni and humans. Rituals and rites. Staying awake until all hours of the night (or day?), listening to the other prattle on until they were too exhausted to carry on. Yet no matter how late it had gotten, no matter how tired, Variks had been ever courteous, escorting her back to her room without protest. Without so much as another mention of her staying with him in the Prison.

The thought of their nightly walks back to her room brought a smile to Meren's face. He had always - well, almost always - been attentive and polite to her. But over the past few days, it had gotten to a point where he had become downright charming. Why? she allowed herself to wonder. Was he trying to impress her? Her eyes roved over and down his robes for a fleeting second. If that's the case, well-

"Meren."

Snapping out of her thoughts at the sound of her name, Meren lifted her head to find the scribe gazing intently at her.

"It is not like you to be so quiet," he said. "Does something trouble you?"

"Oh, uh. No. I was just...thinking."

"What about?" He tilted his head.

For a second Meren found her mind paralyzed. Unable to answer. What was she supposed to say? If she told him the truth - admitted that she has been thinking about him, he was going to be unbearably smug. Completely insufferable. He would never let her hear the end of it, she was sure.

Knowing she had hesitated too long already, she quickly spouted out, "Eliksni."

The word was barely out of Meren's mouth before Variks' outer eyes had narrowed to slits. "Such a vague response. Perhaps you could elaborate."

"Just some of the old rituals you told me about last week. The, uh...Rites of Passage of the Great Machine and Archon's Forge."

"Ahhh," he purred without so much as attempting to conceal the amusement in his voice. Meren could tell that he hardly believed her. "You have more questions, yes?"

"Always."

"Then ask. Perhaps I have answers."

"Oh, I'm sure you do, but we can talk about it later." Realizing that didn't sound like her at all, she was quick to add, "I don't want to...distract you from your work."

"Very courteous," he replied, eyes glittering. "But, rest assured, I am capable of both work and talk at once." He gestured dismissively, wrench in hand.

Meren's lips slowly turned upward. He hadn't so much as touched the Servitor since he had started talking. "Doesn't look like it."

The smugness on Variks' face withered and died right then and there.

"Now, back to work," Meren chirped before he had a chance to clap back with a witty retort of his own, "I'm sure the Guardians are getting antsy."

Variks obeyed, turning to focus his attention back to the Servitor, but not before throwing one last good-natured glare at her over his shoulder.

It took Variks another hour to extricate the remainder of the frayed wiring from the Servitor's complex innards. But after that, he made short work of the rest of the repairs, haphazardly splicing the connections back together before sealing off the central core's access panel. His hasty modifications hardly looked sound to Meren's eyes, yet neither did so much of Eliksni tech. So she withheld comment as she watched Variks proceed to stroke a hand over what was left of the Servitor's shell in an attempt to coax it back online.

When nothing happened, Meren raised her eyebrows and looked expectantly to Variks. Seemingly unbothered, he merely shrugged in reply before slamming one of his mechanical fists upside the core's housing. Meren's eyes went wide for a moment. But after a few well-placed blows from Variks' mechanical fist, the Servitor shuddered back to life, its eerie radiance spreading from the sensor outward until the entire machine was wreathed in its typical shimmering glow.

Shooting him a side-eyed glance, Meren asked, "Did you learn that from an Archon, too?"

"No," he purred, obviously pleased with himself. "That I learned from a Splicer."

"Of course you did…"

With that Variks pulled the neural sync from his robes and handed it over to Meren. Needing no instruction, she twisted the device to initiate the pairing sequence. As the Servitor blinked away, reconfiguring itself, Variks came over to the console and grabbed the datapad from where it sat beside Meren and her mess of tools. Leaning over, she peered at the Servitor's readouts on the screen for a long moment until Variks killed the display with a grunt, apparently satisfied with whatever he had seen there.

"So, what's next?" Meren piped up as she concluded the pairing sequence and handed the device back to Variks.

"Need to assess arena repairs. Ensure everything is in order."

"And then-?"

"The Prison can return to normal operation."

"I meant after that."

Variks glanced over and met her eyes. "Up to you."

With the day's fate in her hands, Meren couldn't help but grin. "So many options," she said flippantly, beginning to pile the scattered tools back into the chest. "Research. Judgement. Testing the security systems for the hundredth time…"

Variks made a soft humming sound though he didn't bother to interject as he shooed the Servitor from the control hub.

"...but maybe we could take the rest of the day off, for once," she suggested. "Have tea. Talk. Relax."

An odd look crossed Variks' face for a second before he inclined his head and extended his hand to her. "Then relax we shall," he purred as Meren accepted his offer, allowing him to help her down from her perch atop the console.


Leaving the control hub behind, they continued on down to the arena, taking the long way around. Variks seemed to be in no rush and so Meren wasn't either. At least not until an aptly-timed comm call from Petra confirmed that the Guardians were , in fact, starting to get antsy, and she was in over her head trying to keep them all constrained to the Vestian Outpost. Variks and Meren hastened their pace then, desperate to get operations back online before Petra lost control and the Guardians got loose in the Reef.

When they reached the arena, Variks hastily entered the access code and the halfmoon-shaped door slid open to reveal a catastrophe. Charred patches of soil and moss marred the earthen ground. Fragments of mine shrapnel lay strewn about the pitch. A patchwork of fresh welds covered the containment walls in jagged lines of seared metal.

The arena had never been what Meren would have considered tidy, but its current state was magnitudes worse than when she had seen it before. A complete disaster. The Prison couldn't possibly resume operations in this state.

Standing frozen in the doorway, Meren looked to Variks with concern. He was going to be livid. Irate.

To her astonishment, however, Variks leaned his head over and, in stark contrast to her own silent assessment, purred, "Looks nice, yes?"

"No!" She stared at him, aghast.

Unbothered by her disagreement, Variks just chuckled and put a hand against her back. As he escorted her out onto the pitch, Meren pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. So badly did she want to believe he had spoken out of sarcasm, but she knew better. No matter how noble their upbringing, Eliksni weren't exactly known for their tidiness - at least not by human standards. In all likelihood, Variks probably did think it looked 'nice'.

Navigating the literal minefield of debris, they picked their way across the pitch to the chamber's far side before setting off in a slow circle around the room's perimeter. Hugging the outer containment wall, Variks stopped to scrutinize every last patch and weld, concerned more with the wall's structural integrity than how unsightly the repairs looked.

He's very thorough, Meren noted as she traipsed along beside him, but not without good reason . It would be no good to have some Vex or Hive monstrosity escaping the arena only to wreak havoc within one of the cellblocks. Though there were security measures in place should such a containment breach happen, the Prison had seen more than enough excitement for one week and another mishap would only serve to make the Prison's Warden look careless. Or worse - incompetent. And Variks, she knew, was neither.

So only when Variks was satisfied that the repairs were sufficient did they exit the earthbound arena and move on to the next where they repeated the same process all over again. Variks had Meren check the welding this time, covering every last inch of the containment wall. Though she really had no idea if the Awoken had done a good job or not, she deemed the work sufficient. Variks agreed. And they continued on to their last stop.

The final arena housed an approximation of the dusty, red wasteland that was Mars. Having never visited this part of the Prison before, Meren spent more time gawking at the strange scaffolding and alien debris than working, leaving Variks to wander on ahead, intent only on completing his inspection. When Meren finally caught up with him, Variks was nearly back at the entrance, having come full circle in her absence.

After apologizing for her dawdling, she helped him with the rest of his survey, pausing only once when she noticed a series of welds that stood apart from the others - haphazard and jagged. She briefly considered them an anomaly - a product of faulty tools. But upon taking a closer look, she noticed something distinctly alien about the craftsmanship and the longer she looked the more she began to suspect that it was more than just Awoken who had been tasked with the arena's repairs.

When she turned to ask Variks about it, she found he was already halfway out the door, and she scurried to catch up with him. By the time she reached his side, the welding was forgotten, and Variks was already sending an encrypted comm burst to the Servitor, instructing it to bring everything back online. It was only a moment before the Servitor's voice - Variks' voice - began to crackle over the Prison's broadcast system, inviting the Guardians back to test their fate once again in the Prison of Elders.

With that, Variks tucked his comm back into his robes, rubbed his lower hands together, and purred, "Now we can relax."

From there they headed down the narrow corridor until they reached a lift at the end. Variks had Meren enter the access code, 7Æ13-B, the door slid open, and they stepped inside.

No sooner had the hatch shuddered closed and the lift ground to life, than Meren glanced over to find Variks staring at her, outer eyes narrowed in barely-concealed mirth.

Meren squinted her eyes right back at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I am ready to answer your questions."

Giving him a quizzical look, Meren asked, "About what?"

"Archon's Forge or...whatever was on your mind earlier ."

Oh no. Not this again.

Meren had hoped, with all the distractions, he would have forgotten her earlier foible. But evidently he hadn't. And he didn't seem intent on letting it go, either.

"Oh...yeah," she played along, trying to buy herself time to think. After racking her brain for a second, desperately trying to come up with something she hadn't already asked, a question popped into her head - but not one about Archon's Forge or some ancient Eliksni ritual. Something else entirely - or someone - had been nagging at her for a while. "There was something I wanted to ask…"

So partially out of genuine curiosity - partially in an effort to curtail his inevitable teasing - she looked Variks square in the eye and asked, "How's Skolas?"

Practically recoiling at the mention of the Wolf Kell's name, Variks made an agitated sound. "That is your question?"

"Why not?" She couldn't hide the smirk that crossed her lips. "I was thinking earlier how you haven't so much as mentioned him since the Awoken locked him away, and it got me curious."

Variks rolled his eyes toward the lift's ceiling, letting out a long groan.

"Oh, stop it," she chided. "You're the one who offered to answer my questions."

His groan turned to a sigh and then he finally relented, "What, exactly, do you wish to know, Meren?"

"A couple of things, actually. But first, I want to know why you haven't taken me to see him."

Variks stared at her like she had lost her mind. "Why would I?"

"You've shown me just about every other terrible thing in here," she reasoned, "I just thought-"

"I would much rather take you to Block D and let you examine the Hive."

"I would hate that…"

"And you would hate Skolas," he snapped. "I am doing you a favor, Meren. Keeping you from him."

"Some favor," she mumbled.

Variks snorted. "Were I to take you to him, what would you do? Hmm? What would you say?"

She hadn't exactly given any thought to what she would say if she ever found herself face-to-face with the Wolf Kell, and was forced to admit, "I... don't know."

"Precisely my point. You would have nothing to say to him. Nor he to you," Variks countered. "Your presence would only serve to make him angrier than he already is. And we would not want that, would we?"

"No."

"Goood," he purred. "Now. What is your next question?"

Meren took a moment to think it over as the lift ground to a halt and the door slid open. "I guess I want to know what you plan to do with him."

"Ahhh." His eyes glittered and Meren was certain he was grinning beneath his mask. "You wish to know of Skolas' judgement, yess?"

Nodding, Meren stepped out of the lift alongside Variks and into the corridor of the Prison's lowest levels.

"Are you certain? Thought you found judgement… unpleasant?"

"Just tell me."

Variks made an irritating humming noise as he pretended to ponder over her request for a long second.

"Variks."

The grin never left his eyes. "What if I told you I plan to cut off all his arms? Take the last of his dignity, as he did to me."

"You wouldn't," she said, deadpan.

"You think not?"

"No." She knew Variks wasn't cruel like Skolas - he wasn't ruthless. And as much as he might like to cut off Skolas' arms, he wouldn't stoop to that level of petty revenge. "You're better than that. Now, what's really going to happen to him?"

Variks offered a grumbling growl in reply. When after a moment he spoke, his voice managed to sound somehow disappointed. "Skolas will face judgement the same as others," he explained. "But he will not be given the honor of dying by Eliksni hands."

Meren furrowed her brow, speaking before realization could dawn. "Then, who-?"

"Guardians, Meren."

"Ah." All things considered, it seemed a fitting end for Skolas to meet his demise in the arena fighting for his life against the very Guardians who had hunted him halfway across the system and brought his reign of terror to an end.

Purring too sweetly, Variks asked, "Any more questions?"

"Last one, I promise." The look Variks gave her in return said that he hardly believed her, but she went on, regardless, "It's not about Skolas, exactly, but the warning he gave to the Queen...about a Light-Snuffer, a Dark-Binder…"

Beside her, Variks' claws tightened around his staff and he faltered, momentarily falling out of step with her.

His little lapse only served to confirm what she had come to suspect after spending so much time with him: that despite what the Queen had said, he knew full well what Skolas' words meant. So, confident that he would have a truthful answer for her, she plowed on ahead. "What did he mean? Who was he talking about?"

Glancing at her, Variks opened his mouth beneath his mask like he was about to answer, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a soft huff of breath.

Never had she seen him at a loss for words, and his sudden silence twisted her stomach into a sickening knot. "Variks?"

Too quickly he straightened up and chirped, "Said you wanted to relax, yess? Perhaps we could discuss this another time…"

"No." She shook her head. "I want to discuss it now. "

Letting out a long, hissing exhale, Variks squeezed his eyes shut and slowed to a stop. After too long a pause, his eyes opened again and he spoke, his voice artificially calm. "The one of whom Skolas spoke, Eliksni call Bane of Chelchis."

Chelchis, Kell of Stone, Meren's insides iced over as words Variks had once said in passing echoed through her head, Stood before the Maw to defend Riis until his dying breath. Not wanting to rehash the whole story about the Whirlwind, Variks had said little more. But even without further elaboration, Meren had understood what he meant - what fate had befallen Chelchis.

Looking to Variks, her eyes widened with realization as the pieces fell into place. "Are you telling me he was talking about the Hive god from your Whirlwind story?"

Variks' shoulders slumped slightly. "Correct."

Further clarification about the situation seemed unnecessary, yet she asked, "And he's coming here? To Sol?"

"That is the implication."

Meren's mind reeled for a moment, trying to make sense of the ramifications, before it went uselessly blank. "What's going to happen?" She met his eyes, desperate for answers. "Should I be worried?"

"No," Variks said too quickly, and again, "No. The Queen has a plan. Has taken precautions. You will be quite safe here in the Reef."

The Reef hadn't even begun to recover from the Wolf Rebellion. How were they supposed to be prepared for another onslaught? But she found she hardly cared - she had bigger concerns. "It's not me or the Reef I'm worried about." What about Earth? The Traveler was dead or dormant, for all anyone knew. And the Vanguard knew next to naught about the Hive - the Great Disaster bore testament to that. "If they reach Earth, the City will-"

"Marakel has consulted with your Vanguard. Shared her plan. Shared Hive secrets…"

"For all the good that will do," she snapped in sudden frustration. Fear.

"Merenn" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. "The situation is...under control. I assure you there is no need to fear."

"You expect me not to be afraid? After what you told me happened to Riis?"

Variks went rigid against her and his voice grew low. "That was different. We had no warning. No time to prepare. No hope of defending ourselves…" Meren felt the growl that rumbled through his chest. "But the tragedy that befell Riis will not happen again. This time your Earth - the Reef - will be ready."

"How can you possibly-"

His claw was at her chin then, tilting her head up to look at him. "I need you to listen to me, Meren. To trust me."

Wide-eyed she stared at him.

"Now, I will say it again." His eyes locked with hers. "Your Earth will not suffer the same fate as Riis. This I promise you."

As his claw fell away from her chin, Meren offered him a little nod. Yet she couldn't stop herself from asking, "How long do we have until-"

"Hussh." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "No more."

Meren obediently shut her mouth then, doing her best to dismiss the host of questions from her mind.

"Come." He put a hand alongside her back, guiding her forward once again. "Let us take our mind off these unpleasant matters."


Down in the lower level's security suite, Meren stared listlessly at the live security footage that played across the array of monitors. Judging by the bustle of activity that was being broadcast from the arenas, the Warden Servitor had wasted no time in resuming operations. On one of the screens, a pair of Guardians fought what appeared to be a losing battle against a ravening horde of Hive monsters. On another, a trio of heavily-armed Titans squared up against what must have been the largest Vex Minotaur this side of Venus.

Leaning back in her chair, she watched only a moment longer before the uneasy fear over what Variks had said gnawed at her gut once again, leaving her unable to focus. Her eyes fell away from the display as her stomach twisted into a knot, the implications of a legion of Hive coming to the Sol system racing through her mind. Rubbing a hand over her face, she tried to banish the thoughts - to trust Variks. But no matter how hard she tried, irrational fear won out over reason, and she gave into the all-consuming dread once more.

It wasn't long before a hiss from the door signaled Variks' return. Pulled from her thoughts - her fears momentarily forgotten, she swiveled in her seat to face him, fully expecting to be met with the sight of him bearing tea. To her surprise however, in addition to the familiar ochre mug clutched between his lower claws, a steaming plate of...something sat carefully balanced on one of his mechanical hands.

Standing motionless in the doorway, Variks met Meren's gaze for a second, his expression unreadable, before he finally stepped into the room and set the platter down on the nearby table. "Come," he offered, placing the tea alongside the mysterious plate. "Eat."

Unable to keep the smile from her face at the gravity of being offered food by an Eliksni, she quickly rose from her seat and went to join him beside the little table. "What's all this?"

"Food," he purred as he pulled the chair out for her and extended his hand, palm up, in an invitation to sit.

Obviously.

Accepting the seat that was offered to her, she glanced down at the plate full of pale, doughy lumps for a second before her eyes wandered back to Variks. "What kind of food?"

"Human food," he replied as unhelpfully as he could.

Meren cocked a brow at him. While the smell that wafted from the contents of the plate reminded her vaguely of bread, it didn't look like any 'human food' she had ever seen.

"Do not know what Awoken call it," he continued, "but the Queen is fond of it. And Petra."

Well, if it's good enough for the Queen...

In an effort to be polite, Meren plucked one of the lumps from the plate, scrutinizing it for a heartbeat before taking a tentative nibble. Fully aware that Variks' eyes were on her, she chewed it over slowly. As far as she could tell it actually was bread, springy and airy and slightly sweet on her tongue. Allowing herself another bite, she found the center of the dough filled with what must have been a savory mixture of meat and vegetables. Not bad by any stretch of the imagination.

Laying a hand on her upper arm, Variks cocked his head, waiting for her assessment.

"It's good," she said truthfully. Not one to forget her manners, she was quick to add, "Thank you."

Seemingly satisfied with that, Variks let his claws drag along her arm as his hand fell away. He stood at her side for a moment longer as she reached for seconds, then promptly crossed the room to survey the array of monitors, leaving her alone at the table.

Glancing after him, Meren found herself a little disappointed that he didn't seem to intend on joining her, but she didn't say a word. In Eliksni culture, she knew, sharing a meal with another was a highly symbolic - and intimate - gesture, reserved only for those with whom they shared a close bond or a deep trust. If sitting down to eat with her was a little too familiar for Variks' tastes, that was his call to make. Not hers.

With a little sigh, she set to work on the second pastry, getting partway through before her mind began to drift back to Skolas' warning. With her appetite suddenly lost, she set the half-eaten morsel down and reached for the tea, hoping the ether would drown out the unpleasant thoughts.

The mug was nearly empty by the time Variks slunk back to the table a few minutes later. Coming to stand beside her, his eyes trailed from the plate and then to Meren. "Why do you not eat?"

"Not that hungry, I guess…"

"You have not eaten all day," he said gently, nudging the platter in her direction.

His efforts went ignored as she downed the last bit of her tea.

Narrowing his eyes, Variks scrutinized the now-empty mug. After a pause, a defeated sigh escaped him and he looked to Meren. "My words still trouble you, yess?"

"Of course they do," she said, the words coming out a little more aggressively than she had intended.

"Meren." Variks' lower hands clenched and unclenched. "I did not mean to-"

"It's not your fault. I'm the one who just had to know," she said, rolling her eyes at herself.

A slow blink crossed all of his eyes and his voice softened. "What more can I do to ease your mind?"

"Bring me another glass of tea."

"No." He slowly shook his head. "Losing yourself to ether will solve nothing."

Meren rubbed a hand over her face. He was right, of course. She should have known better than to even have suggested such a thing.

Variks continued, "But perhaps it would put your fears to rest if I shared with you what I know. What the Queen knows."

"About the Hive?"

"Yess."

A part of her was revulsed by the prospect, another part intrigued. Yet she said, "I don't know how that's supposed to help…"

Without so much as a second of hesitation, Variks' looked her in the eye, replying, "A wise human once said 'know your enemy...know yourself, and you need not'-"

"-fear the result of a hundred battles," she finished with a sigh. Leave it to Variks to use the words of a human philosopher against her. "I know."

"Ahh," Variks cocked his head, a glint in his eyes. "Then you understand."

"Yeah." She begrudgingly offered him a half smile. Maybe there was some wisdom in 'knowing your enemy'. Maybe dissolving some of the mystery surrounding the Hive would put some of her fears to rest. "Where did you hear that anyway?"

"Spider is not the only one known to indulge in human literature."

The smile on Meren's face only managed to grow wider. "You never cease to surprise me."

Variks spread all of his hands and inclined his head in a sarcastic bow. "Now. Do you wish to learn about the Hive?"

Meren allowed herself one, last internal groan before giving in. "Fine," she said, leaning back in her chair, ready for him to enlighten her.

To her surprise, instead of starting off on some dismal anecdote about the Hive, Variks turned on his heel and made for the door. "Wait here."

Where's he going now? Meren wondered as she stared after him. He almost certainly wasn't going to fetch her more tea. And if not tea, then what could he possibly have run off to get? A host of possibilities - none of them pleasant - sprung to mind as she sat there, waiting for his return. And the longer she thought about it, the more she began to get the feeling that she had inadvertently signed up for some sort of macabre show-and-tell in lieu of one of his usual stories.

When Variks finally returned after a long few minutes, it thankfully wasn't with a jar of glowing, green eyeballs, but what appeared to be a pair of raggedly-bound books. Coming to stand alongside her, he dropped the rugged tomes down onto the table before her, their tattered, dark leather binding neither Eliksni handiwork, nor human.

Having expected the journals to be of Awoken-make, Meren paused to consider the craftsmanship before reaching out to pull back the cover of one of the books. The first page was discolored and torn, blank save for the splotches of crimson ink that dotted the paper. With the slightest hint of trepidation, Meren turned to the next page, eyes widening as she found it covered in line after line of hand-scrawled Hive runes.

Even without being able to read a word of the language, Meren had a pretty good idea of what she was looking at. The Hive weren't exactly known for being prolific literatists and in all her years at the Academy she had only ever heard of the existence of one written work: a sprawling compendium charmingly titled the Books of Sorrow . Despite its notoriety, the contents of the fabled work - the alleged darkest secrets of the Hive - remained elusive, due in part to the fact that the only copy known to humanity was currently in the hands of a fanatical Praxic Warlock. Completely inaccessible to anyone. Or so she had heard.

Professor Darby, the Academy's resident Hive historian, had tried for years to procure the fabled work, going so far as to hire the Vanguard to assist with tracking the books down. Unfortunately, even her best efforts had proven fruitless, and with no trace of the books in sight, her failures had only served to become the butt of a running joke at Academy dinners and consortiums. And now the joking had gone on for so long, it had gotten to a point where most of the Academy's faculty had come to doubt that the Books of Sorrow would ever be found - if they even existed at all.

Yet, as impossible as it seemed, it was the legendary tomes themselves that sat on the table before her. She was certain.

So Meren looked to Variks, the disbelief plain in her eyes, and hissed, "Where did you get these?"

"A...trade with a mutual friend," he replied, a grin in his voice.

She didn't even need to ask for him to clarify. Leave it to the Spider to somehow get his claws on the darkest secrets of the Hive. "And where did he get them?"

"I did not ask. Questioning the particulars of his dealings would be...most unwise." A claw extended in her direction. "Best to remember that."

Meren glanced back at the open page. As much as she wanted to believe in a world where Variks and the Spider were part of an alien book club, exchanging books solely out of their love for literature, she knew better. "I thought you said making deals with the Spider was foolish."

"For one unskilled in the art of negotiation, yes. For one more adept...Spider's services may prove themselves useful. On occasion."

Meren didn't even need to ask which category she fell into. The former, certainly. Yet, as unskilled as she so obviously was, she had to know, "And what did a skilled negotiator such as yourself have to offer in exchange for the Books of Sorrow?"

"I did not know you were so well-acquainted with Hive literature."

"Variks," she purred before her voice grew stern. She wasn't about to let him weasel himself out of this one. "Answer the question."

"Why do you want so badly to know?"

"You're partially responsible for the mess I'm in with the Spider," she said dismissively. "So any insight you have might be nice...for future reference."

For a second, judging by the pointed look Variks gave her in return, Meren feared she had gone too far. But he merely hummed in reply and then yielded. "A secret, Meren. That is what was offered in exchange for the Hive's books."

Her eyes lit up, instantly curious, and she leaned in his direction. "What...kind of secret?"

"Would not be a secret any longer if I told you, yess?"

Meren flopped back in her chair with a huff. Though she momentarily considered how she might convince him, she seriously doubted that putting on her best pout was going to change his mind. Not this time.

Ignoring her dramatics, Variks took a seat beside her. "Perhaps you could ask Spider yourself," he continued. "Though...I doubt he would stop laughing long enough to let you finish your question."

Point taken, Meren let it drop as Variks pulled the book in his direction until it lay open on the table between them. Finally letting her curiosity about the book's contents get the better of her, she looked attentively to Variks.

Placing his claw beside one of the runes on the page, he asked, "Can you read Hive?"

"No," she admitted. "Can you?"

"Of course."

She shouldn't have been surprised. Otherwise why would he have gone to the trouble of trading away one of his precious secrets for a book he couldn't even decipher? "Well, I guess you're going to be the one reading, then."

"Or I could teach you," he offered.

"Do you really think I'm going to be able to learn enough Hive in a couple of hours to read this? " She gestured to the open book.

"Perhaps."

"Not likely," she countered.

"Very well…" Variks chuckled and inched his seat a little closer to hers, until their knees were practically touching under the table. "Once upon a time…" he began in all seriousness, dragging his claw along the line of runes on the page.

A huff of laughter burst from Meren's mouth as she swatted his hand away from the page. "That's not what it says!"

"How can you be certain?" he said, doing his best to look offended. "Thought you could not read Hive."

"Only human stories start like that." She couldn't keep the stupid grin off her face.

"Only?"

Meren's mouth fell open slightly, the seed of doubt beginning to take root in her mind.

Then Variks' claw moved back to the beginning of the line and he started over, reading, "Let us speak of the terrible beauty of becoming ourselves… "

That can't be right, either, she thought. There was no way the Hive had written something so eloquent. So...poetic. Yet as Variks continued there was no hint of jesting in his voice or mirth in his eyes. Those really were the words written out on the page.

"...In the beginning we rode hollow moons from star to star. Auryx said, become as numerous and fertile as seeds in rich flesh, and thus we did become numerous…"

And so Meren listened with rapt attention as Variks went on, page after page. Verse after verse. Finding every last word of the Books of Sorrow riveting and horrifying and fascinating all at once.

Time melted away as Variks dramatically - and much to his morbid delight - retold the conquests of Auryx and his brood, unraveled the secrets of the Ascendant plane, and spun the tales of ravenous Worms. Though she didn't share his enthusiasm on the subject matter, Meren had to admit that listening to the Hive's ludicrous stories was beginning to make her feel somewhat better.

By the time he was halfway through the first book, Meren had begun to sink lower in her chair, shoulders slumping. Two-thirds in, Meren's elbows were propped up on the table, head in her hands. Three-quarters and Meren's chin was resting atop her crossed arms.

"This is us, and our purpose is liberation…"

Blaming the tea, Meren felt her eyelids beginning to droop. Not wanting to be rude, she willed her eyes back open, trying so hard to focus on Variks' words.

"...our great task is the worship and admiration of freedom, our great hunger…"

But it was no use. Her eyes narrowed again, Variks' voice growing softer and softer in the background.

"...to pursue and eat that which is not free, and to liberate it with devouring…."

She was just going to let her eyes rest for a moment. That was all...

"This is us, we the Hive."

...


Meren's eyes snapped open to the hiss of a distant compressor cycling on and then off again, her face plastered against a cold, metal table. The room around her warm and dark, illuminated only by the glow of a dozen monitors in the far corner. This wasn't her room, she immediately realized. Where was she? Through the fog of sleep, she lifted her head, eyes panning the space as she tried to make sense of it all.

Slowly the pieces came together - the tea, the Hive books, Variks' reading. She had fallen asleep. Obviously. And she was still down in the Prison's security suite.

But where was-?

Shaking her head to clear the last of the groggy haze, Meren caught sight of the Eliksni slumped over the table beside her, fast asleep. His head rested atop all four of his crossed arms, the once-full plate empty beside him. A smile crossed her lips as her eyes shifted from the plate to watch the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, the occasional twitch of his claws. He looked so peaceful resting there, that Meren found herself unable to tear her eyes off him, much less wake him.

Eager to get back to her own bed for some proper rest, she watched him for just a moment longer before putting her palms on the table, making to get up as quietly as she could. But she froze before she could rise from her seat, stopped by the thought of leaving him to sleep down here. He deserved better - far better - than spending the night hunched over a table in some forgotten corner of the Prison.

Compelled by her own empathy - or maybe that persistent, nagging fondness - Meren reached out to wake him, setting her hand gently on his shoulder. The fur about his neck was soft, and so too was the flesh she could feel beneath the layers of his robes. With a smile, she reminded herself that Eliksni weren't all teeth and claws and carapace as she drew her hand along his shoulder in a gentle - if not curious - caress.

Stirring beneath her touch, Variks made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a purr before rearranging his arms beneath his chin. He stilled, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders resumed, completely undeterred by Meren's touch.

When he refused to wake after another gentle brush of her fingers, Meren squeezed his shoulder. "Variks?"

At the sound of his name, a single one of his bleary eyes snapped open, tired and unfocused. It quickly located Meren, and his other three eyes followed in short order, opening one at a time, blinking back sleep as he lifted his head

"You...fell asleep," she said, meeting Variks' tired stare, finding herself at a loss for anything else.

"...As did you." His half-closed eyes drifted to the open book on the table and after a pause, he continued, "Feel any better?"

"Actually," A smile crossed her lips. "yes...Thanks to you."

"Mmm," he grunted, apparently too groggy for a more eloquent response.

"You've been so kind to me, Variks," she went on, more awake than he was, "I don't know what I've done to deserve any of this."

"You..are my friend, Meren," he said haltingly. Tired. "I-"

Meren stared expectantly at him, waiting for him to finish the thought, but Variks just shook his head and closed his eyes, saying no more.

As much as she wanted to pester him - drag out the rest of what he had meant to say, she could see he was obviously exhausted, and decided to leave it be. She could pry later. "I should go," she said when Variks' silence persisted, "and let you get some rest."

His eyes opened then. "Of course, of course" he said, his voice gradually regaining its usual timbre. "But before you do, perhaps...you would allow me to bid you a proper goodnight. The Eliksni way."

She narrowed his eyes at his sudden capacity for coherent speech. "And how's that?"

"Would have to show you."

Gazing at him, incredulous, she offered him the faintest nod. Though she had accepted, Variks sat frozen for a second, his eyes locked with hers.

Beginning to think he wasn't going to do anything at all, Meren opened her mouth to press him,

Go on, then, she meant to say, but the words were stolen from her lips as Variks leaned over, eyes half closed, and nuzzled his face so tenderly against the side of hers. All at once, the air was pulled from her lungs, leaving her breathless. Her heart skipped a beat, and before the logical part of her brain could have a say in the matter, Meren leaned into him, pressing her cheek against his, meeting his affection and returning it with a little of her own.

Her efforts were rewarded with a soft purr from the scribe that left her powerless to pull away. Variks, in turn, nosed at her a little more intently, and Meren found herself unable to keep the smile from her face. In that moment, the Eliksni 'goodnight' between the two of them seemed so sweet. So innocent.

Until it wasn't.

Only encouraged by his answered affections, Variks suddenly wrapped one of his arms around her, claws curling about her waist, and dragged her from her chair. Meren let out a little gasp as he drew her to himself, depositing her sideways across his lap.

Meren's eyes went wide. What was he doing? What was she doing? This was definitely not how Eliksni said goodnight. Or maybe it was. Drawing a quavering breath, she repeated the mantra she had told herself over and over again, Eliksni have no interest in humans.

Meren's inner tumult fell silent, her mind going blank, as all four of his arms wrapped lazily around her. She met his gaze then, the air leaving her lungs once again, utterly bewitched by those glowing eyes.

Another rumbling purr came from the scribe. And before she knew what she was doing, her hand reflexively found his face, her fingers brushing the side of his exposed jaw before running down the side of his neck. Variks let out a little whine, melting her heart, as her fingers' exploration continued until they finally came to rest at the nape of his neck.

Variks leaned in then and, careful so as not to take her head off with one of his helmet's horns, buried his face in her shoulder. Her stomach fluttered when his arms pulled her tighter, his claws dragging themselves languidly down her back, her side. She returned the favor, her hands moving to run over the fabric that covered his chest.

Stop, her last two functioning brain cells pleaded, don't. Meren squeezed her eyes shut. She shouldn't entertain his advances any further. Couldn't. Down that path lay nothing but trouble-

Her fingers curled to clench his robes, her will utterly torn. A part of her too curious to pull away, yet a part too rational to carry on.

Then as unexpected as everything else he was doing, Variks drew his face up towards her ear and purred, "Allow me to escort you back to your room."

Say yes. This was her way out. Her escape. She could go back to her room and pretend that none of it had ever happened.

Meren pulled back slightly to meet his luminous gaze, considering her options, for just a second. Variks stared right back with half-lidded eyes, a purr rumbling in his chest as she entwined her arms around his neck.

She leaned back in then, nuzzling her cheek against his once more, and whispered,

"Not yet."


AN: All my thanks go to Keltoi for diligently editing the longest chapter yet!