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Muiri embraced her wife, drawing the Dunmer down to her height. The two ran their hands along each other slowly, committing each detail to memory. Laria took her wife's face in her hands, her dull eyes doing their utmost to record her features. Laria kissed Muiri slowly, as gently as she could, as her broken mouth and scarred hands were used to being tools for death, not love.
"I love you." She said. Laria's eyes widened. "What?"
"No, no, you cannot. I am not something to love."
"What do you mean?" A pit in Muiri's stomach opened up, and her eyes widened, fearful of what Laria might say.
"I am an agent of destruction. I have been wounded beyond repair, you know you were afraid of my face when we first met. I have taken men's lives, darling, I collect heads--how can you love something like me?" Muiri gently ran her hands along Laria's torn, burnt, scarred cheeks. Her heart slowed back to normal, as she listened to Laria's hate-filled words. The nearly-silent woman, to her knowledge, only spoke like this to her.
"I love something like you because when you first appeared, I thought nothing could be good. And then you helped me. You did your duty, and then you returned to me. You stayed with me. And you have been nothing but loyal to me. You love me, and you love our daughters. And they love you."
"I never knew what 'love' was. I manipulated and persuaded people into believing they loved me. But with you, I feel something. My heart is alive and beating when you're near. I would tear my way through a hundred bandits if it meant you would be safe. I would traverse Oblivion to bring you back. And so if that isn't love, then I don't know what is." Laria murmured, stroking Muiri's hair. She smiled once more, staring up at her love with youthful, hopeful eyes.
"I guess I could say that I was the one to melt Laria Shadow-Born's ice-cold heart?" She teased. Laria laughed softly, smiling like she only did when she was home.
"Dear Muiri, the little Breton girl who stole my stone-cold heart. Treat it well, my love, I only have one." Muiri nodded, pulling Laria close for another deep kiss. As they parted, the young woman beamed, her entire face lighting up. Laria proudly decided that there was nothing more beautiful than her wife when she was happy. Perhaps it was equal to when their daughters were, but for the moment Muiri was more radiant than a god.