Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"What you need is a mirror, not a painting. It will capture the horror I see before me far better than I ever could."

Chloe holds her breath. For a moment, the room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. She can’t help but be impressed with how eloquently Alphinaud shuts down Lord Vauthry's demand. It shouldn't surprise her. If anyone can talk circles around even the most influential people, it's him. But still, with how tense everything around them is and after witnessing the shocking way the leader of Eulmore treats his people, Chloe can barely think straight. Her first instinct had been to draw her weapon and jump into the fray. Which says a lot, given that she is usually the one to try and avoid all physical confrontations. She is glad that Alphinaud had held her back. Happy and a tad distressed that he had to. 

She doesn't like this place at all. The small farms and remnants of villages out in Kholusia had been heart-wrenching already, but at least the people there had been relatable. Eulmore though, is undoubtedly something else. Chloe has rarely felt more alienated by a place than she does here, surrounded by people whose dresses were as elaborate as their eyes were empty. And none of them had said a single word of protest. None of them had spoken up when their revered leader had straight-up ordered a poor man to mutilate himself. 

She feels a little sick at the mere thought. She looks around restlessly, finding Alphinaud's gaze, and to her relief, he seems as eager to leave this place behind as she is. He helps the injured man, holding him up with a firm grip around his arm as he nods at her once before they leave the chamber that can only be described as an overdone throne room. She walks closely behind Alphinaud, looking back over her shoulder to make sure no one follows them with ill intentions. To her utter relief, everyone seems way too preoccupied to try and stop them. On their way down, Chloe notices that they are missing something.

"I'll catch up with you at the gate," she calls out to the other two and turns on her heels before Alphinaud has time to protest. With quick steps, Chloes makes her way back up to the main floor, the one surrounding the lavishly decorated aetheryte. She spots what she's looking for right away. There, next to a now empty table, are his painting utensils.

She knows they are most likely replaceable, but she also knows Alphinaud would think twice to do so. Ever since he had been thoroughly reprimanded by Tataru for spending way too much money on a sword, he had taken to being much more frugal with money. Especially when it came to his personal effects. Quickly, she gathers his brushes and wraps them up in their leather case. Now all that's left is catching up with the others again, but when Chloe turns around she bumps into someone, nearly losing her footing.

"Careful," a low voice mumbles as a strong hand clasps around her upper arm to steady her and keep her from falling.

Chloe mumbles an embarrassed apology under her breath as she looks up, finding a tall stranger looking down at her with an amused look on his face.

"Ah," he says as he lets his eyes wander over her. "Getting ready to run, I assume?"

She swallows as she realizes that this man has most likely witnessed their stand-off with Vauthry.

"You saw that?"

The stranger nods curtly, and for a moment, she is distracted by the tingling sensation his hold on her arm sends through her. She is suddenly overly aware of just how close she stands to him, how much she has to crane her neck to see his face, and how surprisingly interesting said face looks. She isn't usually prone to staring at people, but there is something about his eyes that has her captured. They are light, shimmering golden, and even though he has a friendly look on his face, those eyes seem strangely piercing. Shaking herself out of her stupor, Chloe takes a deep breath and clears her throat. 

"I'm not running, but I'm certainly getting ready to leave."

She has little success in trying to keep the apparent disdain she has for this place out of her voice, but before she can wonder just how wise it is to talk like this in front of a stranger, the man nods gravely.

"A wise choice."

He lets go of her arm, and at his simple answer, Chloe finds herself staring once more. He towers over her. At first glance, he looks like he fits right into Eulmore's upper class. He is elegantly dressed in a full-length black coat adorned with fur trimmings and what looks like military decorations. But only at first glance, then it becomes evident that the way he's dressed doesn't match anything else she has seen in the city. Something feels off, though she can't quite put her finger on it. Not for several moments where she just blatantly looks him over until she realizes what it is that stands out to her - he is Garlean. With the First being a reflection of the Source, it would stand to reason that every race of people she knows from her home could be around, but while there had been an ample diversity of people in the Crystarium and all over Kholusia, she hadn't seen a single Garlean before. 

"You don't look like anyone else around here," Chloe says without thinking, furrowing her brows in thought.

"Why, thank you, I do try," he replies with an amused smile.

"No, I mean…" 

There is something else. Something she feels she should know. She could swear she had seen him before, but she can't pinpoint where. A person as distinctive looking as this man is not someone she would have forgotten. 

"You look familiar," Chloe finally adds with a shake of her head.

"Do I now?"

There is a sudden look of blatant interest in his eyes before his smile widens, and he leans a little closer.

"I can assure you, my dear, we certainly haven't met before."

Chloe knows he speaks the truth, despite the weird feeling she has.

"You're not from here, though, right?" she asks curiously, and at her question, he throws his head back and lets out a laugh.

"Absolutely not, thankfully," he says with a slight wink before he finds his composure again and adds much calmer, "I am just here to… observe."

Observe? Just why in the world someone would want to observe this strange place, Chloe can't understand.

"Who, Lord Vauthry?"

He inclines his head at her question.

"Among other things."

At the far end of the plaza, Chloe can see some people coming down the stairs. The same people that had been up in the throne room, watching quietly as their confrontation with their leader had taken place.

"Those people," she murmurs absentmindedly. "Why do they listen to him?"

The man next to her turns to follow her look.

"He offers them safety," he suggests simply, and Chloe can't help but let out a scoff.

"By making them turn on each other? By forcing them to sacrifice themselves?" she wonders out loud. None of what is happening in this city makes any sense to her. If she has learned one thing over her years with the Scions, it is that what is happening here is not the way to go when wanting to save as many lives as possible. "Don't they know that if they stick together and help each other, it would be so much more helpful?"

"It would, wouldn't it?" the man next to her muses. "If they were just a little bit more selfless..."

He is right, of course, but she knows it's not that simple. She has seen it too often before. For a moment, Chloe thinks back to a small village in Yanxia, where everyone she talked to had insisted on loyally serving the Empire if only for one simple and terribly obvious reason.

"They are afraid," she says quietly, and the man next to her raises his eyebrows.

"That's hardly an excuse, wouldn't you say?"

"No, not an excuse," she agrees, still looking over the plaza where everyone seems to go about their business as usual, with no sign of anything horrific having happened mere minutes ago. "An explanation, perhaps," she adds with a shrug before she looks at the set of brushes in her hand. "I have to go."

"Run along then, my dear."

She can't quite tell if he cares or if he is just being polite, but in the end, it doesn't matter. If he is here observing, not part of the inner workings of this city, it is probably as dangerous for him to be here than it is for her. With a reassuring smile, she places a hand on his arm and squeezes lightly.

"Take care," she murmurs quietly. "These people may not be outright hostile, but you can never know."

For a second, he looks at her like she is completely mad, eyes full of disbelief, and Chloe fears that her well-meant concern may have somehow offended him, but then something in his eyes mellows.

"Is that concern I see, for a complete stranger?" he says with a hint of disbelief that somehow gets under her skin.

She gives the man an apologetic look.

"I meant no offense," she says quietly, taking her hand back and looking around to make sure no one overhears her. "But something about this place is not right. It gives me a bad feeling." 

"Are you sure it's this place that makes you be on your guard, my dear?" he asks with a curious look.

Chloe pauses, trying to discern what he means by that, but she comes up empty.

"I don't know what else you might mean, but I really have to go," she says with a furrowed brow. "Just... be careful!"

"Oh, I will, rest-assured," the stranger replies with an unreadable look before he inclines his head and gives her a gallant bow.

With a smile, she turns to leave. That's when she hears his voice again. 

"And don't you worry, my dear, we will surely meet again."

"We will?" 

The complete assurance in his voice gives her pause, and she turns back around, only to find the space behind her empty. She looks around, trying to catch a glimpse of the man, but she can't find any trace of him, no matter the direction. With a confused frown, Chloe clutches the wrapped-up brushes tightly to her chest and finally makes her way down the stairs, hurrying to catch up with Alphinaud. She is definitely ready to leave Kholusia behind.

She keeps thinking about the strange encounter. Back in the Crystarium, there is not much to do that occupies her mind. Alphinaud gives his report to the Exarch, and Chloe finds herself on her own with nothing to do until she is set to leave to go look for Alisaie. If it were up to her, she would have left right away, but airship travel is limited, and the next one on route to where she has to go will return to the Crystarium tomorrow before being refueled and checked over. It will only be ready to take her along the day after.

That makes for almost two whole days with nothing on her plate. The Exarch refuses to assign any sort of labor to her, citing that she is a guest and should save her strength, but Chloe doesn't know how to be idle. Luckily, the keeper of the Crystarium gardens has much fewer qualms about turning down a voluntary pair of helping hands. It's soothing and grounding to care for patches of fresh produce and beds of flowers alike. It reminds Chloe of home. With how bright it is, it could almost feel like a hot summer's day around the Summerford Farms she grew up in, but unlike the sun bathing the fields of grain in her warmth at home, the light of this place feels decidedly different. It seems to almost bleach and wash out the land if how Lakeland and Kholusia look is any indication. Yet, at the same time, the air is surprisingly chilly. The eternal light of the first doesn't warm the earth at all. 

As Chloe tends to a field of tomatoes, binding the plants to supportive pieces of wood to keep them upright, her thoughts go back to the stranger in Eulmore. She can't shake the feeling that there had been something odd about him. She nearly drops her garden scissors when just as she lets her mind wander, she suddenly hears his voice.

"A stalwart hero, rummaging around in the dirt, how… peculiar." 

This time, there is no one there to steady or catch her as Chloe whirls around, losing her footing on the soft dirt of the vegetable patch. A moment later, she hits the ground with a low grunt, barely managing to avoid crashing into and ruining the plants. When she looks up, he is right there, standing only a few feet away. He takes a step closer as he looks at her with raised brows.

"And not at all on her guard," he adds quietly. "It's almost a tad disappointing."

The first thing Chloe notices is how out of place he looks in the Crystarium gardens with his elegant and spotless clothes. The second thing is that he had been standing behind her, in a place he could only have reached by walking right past her. She frowns. Had she been that lost in thought?

"How did you-" she starts to ask when something else he had said finally registers. "Wait, you know who I am?"

The Exarch had been adamant about keeping her identity a secret, of making sure she is known as just another friend from back home.

"The great Warrior of Light," the man says with a hint of dramatic flair before he sets his eyes on the blazingly bright sky and shakes his head. "Though I must admit, I cannot blame you for keeping that title under wraps around here."

Nothing about this encounter makes sense, and her suspicion grows. Something isn't right.

"How do you know this," Chloe asks slowly. "And what are you doing here?"

"Well, since we already met, if only by accident, I thought it prudent to properly introduce myself."

He gives her a smile, but still, he doesn't look entirely friendly. It's something in his eyes, Chloe thinks. They have the same piercing look she noticed before in Eulmore, and something about it is unsettling. It sends a cold shiver down her back as he suddenly takes an elaborate bow before the air in front of him shimmers with magic. But not just any magic - a terribly familiar-looking red hue.

"As for my true identity, I am Emet-Selch, Ascian."

A bout of pure panic runs through her at his last word, her mind racing as she thinks back to their previous meeting and how nothing he had said or done had even given her a hint. She swallows heavily, trying to calm herself enough to think clearly.

"Uhm," is all that leaves Chloe's mouth in her confusion as she stares at the brightly glowing glyph in front of his face. Dimly, she remembers having heard that name before. He is supposed to be one of the more powerful ones. Like Lahabrea had been. Like Elidibus. She had dealt with both of them before, albeit in a very different way, and for a brief second she is torn about what to do, how to react. Lahabrea had repeatedly tried to kill her, while Elidibus had just wanted to talk. All Chloe knows is that if she scrambles to make a make-shift weapon out of her garden scissors now, it might be an action she cannot take back. Not to mention that it may well be completely useless against someone like him.

She puts the strings she has still clutched in her fist down, wiping off her earth-stained hands on her apron as she slowly gets to her feet. With a somewhat dry throat, she takes a step forward and holds out her hand.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," she says, and her slightly shaky voice makes it almost sound like a question. She frowns and shakes her head, clearing her throat once before she adds, "I'm Chloe."

Emet-Selch looks at her like he is trying to figure her out. To solve her, like a puzzle. Or a problem, Chloe thinks, about to take her hand back when he suddenly takes it in a firm grasp. But instead of shaking it in the greeting she had intended, the red-glowing glyph disappears, and he raises her hand up for a formal hand kiss. It's perfectly polite, his lips are not even grazing her skin, but something about it is strangely personal.

"Oh, you're a polite one," Emet-Selch says with a delighted look on his face. "How unexpectedly refreshing."

A strange sort of tension lies in the air. She can't help but fidget under it, biting her lips before she dares to ask a question.

"What is an Ascian doing here?"

His lips curl into a smile.

"Haven't I already told you in Eulmore, my dear?" he replies smoothly before he inclines his head. "I am here to observe."

"Vauthry isn't here," Chloe says the first thing that's on her mind, and Emet-Selch lets out an amused laugh.

She is acutely aware that he still holds her hand as he leans a little toward her with a somewhat devious look.

"I never said he was the one that I'm watching."

His proximity throws her off, and she frowns as she tries to remember what exactly he had said in Eulmore. 

'Among other things.'

"What else are you observing then?" she asks, curiosity winning out, pushing her anxiousness over the whole situation aside for a moment.

What she isn't prepared for is how his eyes rake over her, and his smile turns wide. 

"I'd say something much more rewarding to watch." 

Chloe stares at him, for a moment thoroughly unable to react. Surely he couldn't mean… But his demeanor leaves no doubt that he is talking about her, and she finds herself spluttering, pulling her hand out of his grasp, and taking a step back.

"Will you look at that," he says with an amused laugh before he looks from her to the garden patch. "You almost match the plants."

Not only does he throw her off, no, but he also has the audacity to blatantly call out her embarrassment. Chloe can feel the heat on her cheeks and has no doubt that she looks a lot more like the tomato plants she's tending to than she would like.

"You can't just," she starts in a weak voice, but before she can finish her sentence, he smoothly interrupts her.

"I told you we'd meet again, didn't I?" he says, still sounding amused. "And I look forward to seeing what you will do next, hero ."

Once again, Chloe knows she is thoroughly out of her depth. From the corner of her eye, she can make out that there aren't any people close to them. No one who could intervene. Almost instantly, she scolds herself for the mere thought. She's the one people keep looking to if they need intervention with an Ascian, after all. Even if she has absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. Or what he expects to see from her.

"What I will do next…" 

She mutters to words more to herself, but Emet-Selch's eyes light up nonetheless.

"Precisely, my dear," he says with a pleased smile. "For instance, will you run to your friends any moment now, telling them how you got ambushed by an Ascian, or will you stay a while, hm? Maybe have a little chat?"

She can't deny that her first thought had indeed been about how fast she could get out of this situation and confide in Alphinaud. It's a force of habit by now, and Chloe swallows as she tries to remember when the last time had been that she had faced a situation on her own. She flinches a little the moment she realizes she knows precisely when. On a battlefield in the Source, facing off against another Ascian in possession of a Garlean body. She had been alone that day, the last minute hope arriving to save her friends - and she had failed horrifically. It had only been by Estinien's intervention, protecting the would-be rescuer in return, that she had survived.

No, Chloe knows she is not equipped to handle a situation like this on her own. Despite what everyone keeps saying about her, she knows the truth. The so-called Warrior of Light is a symbol, not an actual hero capable of doing things on her own. She certainly isn't.

"Oh, do not look at me like that, with those scared doe eyes," Emet-Selch scoffs at that moment, shaking his head at her. "I said have a little chat, not fight to the death." He narrows his eyes at her and clicks his tongue. "If anything, I should be the one filled with concern, what with being in the presence of a famous Ascian slayer and all that."

It's worrisome that he seems to be able to read her so well. And at the same time, she almost has to laugh at that last part. Her reputation precedes her, but it's nothing more than a lot of talk about actions that Chloe mainly had only been present for. It's not like she had been the instigator in any of these instances. She had shown up where she had been needed and done what she had been told to do by other, much more knowledgeable people. She knows she should leave, but somehow the prospect of running away in the hopes that someone else might take over, or at least tell her what best to do, is not as comforting as it usually is. It feels downright like admitting just how much of a fraud she feels like. Maybe, if he truly isn't here to fight, she can do this on her own.

Chloe gathers all her courage together and abandons all thoughts of fleeing. With an outward calmness, that she doesn't truly feel, she picks up her tools and prays that her hands will hold steady as she goes back to binding the plants.

"What would you want to chat about?" she asks, stealing a glance at the Ascian from the corner of her eye before she slowly ties a knot.

"Why, the end of the world, of course," he answers.

Behind the amusement in his voice hides a foreboding shadow that makes it obvious he is not talking in jest, and Chloe swallows heavily, waiting for what he will say next, all in the hope that she hasn't just made a colossal mistake.

Chapter Text

"Why, the end of the world, of course."

"The end of the world?" Chloe repeats in a questioning tone as she takes another string and carefully wraps it around the already heavy tomato plant.

There is a sudden intensity hovering in the air. It had been there from the moment Emet-Selch appeared, but it seems to keep growing by the minute.

"That's what you are here for, aren't you? To save this shard?" he asks in a tone that sounds almost bored, yet if he were that, he probably wouldn't be here in the first place.

As much as Chloe would like to simply go on with her work, she has to pause and look at him. He says he wants to chat, whatever that might truly mean, but his mere presence makes her uneasy. She is used to Ascians being a lot more aggressive. In her experience, they all want the same thing, and that thing has always included trying to get rid of her.

"You know I am," she confirms quietly before she gives him a curious look. "But why are you?"

"Pardon?"

"You just said you're an Ascian - you don't save worlds." 

When Chloe points that out, something in his eyes shifts. They light up with interest, and suddenly, he regards her with something akin to a smile. It doesn't look entirely friendly, though, as he lets out a small sigh.

"Oh, dear, if only you knew about the irony of that statement. But of course, you are correct. I am not here to save this world." Emet-Slech huffs, shaking his head with a hint of indignation. "The idea alone would be preposterous."

He sounds genuinely put out by that thought, and Chloe winces on instinct.

"Uhm, I apologize for insinuating…" she starts, only to stop talking the moment a look of complete disbelief spreads over his face.

With furrowed brows, Emet-Selch takes a step closer, his eyes piercingly inquisitive as he looks her up and down.

"I am starting to see how they get you to do this," he murmurs with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

Chloe has no idea what he is talking about.

"This?"

Emet-Selch's smile widens, and he inclines his head at her.

"Playing their hero for them when you don't actually want to be here," he says as if he's explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

Chloe swallows. Instinctively she looks around, but there is no one in their vicinity that could have heard him. What has been a worrisome fact only a few minutes ago is now something of a relief to her.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she murmurs as she decisively turns back to her plants and picks up another string. "I am exactly where I want to be."

Her voice is upbeat, and she smiles, though not at him, and in her experience, that is enough. It takes her a few seconds to realize that this is unlike any situation she has ever been in when Emet-Selch scoffs loudly.

"Save it for someone that doesn't have eyes. I see you looking much the same way you did in Eulmore. Like you'd rather be anywhere else." He narrows his eyes at her before he adds, "So where, actually?"

"Huh?" is all the noise she can make. 

Chloe isn't used to someone prodding at her feelings and secrets like that. Especially someone she barely even knows. Her friends are polite enough to leave her be if she gives them a happy smile and insists she is fine. But Emet-Selch doesn't seem to care much about doing the polite thing. 

"You're not really an eloquent one, are you?" he says at that moment, proving her last thought right before he shrugs with an exasperated sigh. "Where you'd want to be instead, I asked."

Put on the spot like that, she doesn't know just what to answer him except the truth.

"Uhm… home," Chloe admits quietly.

When she glances at him from the corner of her eyes, Emet-Selch looks almost confused at her simple answer.

"That's it? Home?" he asks, and his eyes are back to scrutinizing her, trying to figure her out.

"If I could choose, I'd want to be home," Chloe repeats her answer with a nod. 

She can't choose, of course. Certain options simply aren't there, and some things are beyond anyone's powers, making the mere desire seem almost hollow.

"What a simple wish," Emet-Selch muses, but the moment he sees her face, he raises his brows and adds, "Oh, don't take that as an insult, my dear, simple doesn't mean stupid."

For the first time, it is Chloe who frowns. Though again, not directly at him. Like before, she focusses on her plants again, letting the simple task she knows so well calm her and keep her hands steady.

"I know that," she murmurs. "But it's not a simple wish. I can never go home. It doesn't exist anymore."

When Chloe thinks of home, she thinks of open fields and sunshine. Of the peaceful, quiet days in La Noscea where, on a clear day, she could see for miles, watching tiny ships on the horizon that were still a day out from port. She thinks of carefree summers full of hard work and satisfying tiredness in the evening, of children playing hide and seek between the grains and her parents cooking meals for the entire neighborhood during harvest season. 

And then she remembers fire falling from the sky, screams of terror, and a whole life disintegrating before her very eyes.

There are new farms today; of course, Summerford Hill is blooming again, years after the calamity. But the house is no longer the one she grew up in, and the people are not the ones she had loved. They smile all the same, and there is warmth there in every gesture, but it's not the same one Chloe is missing. Over the past few years, she has only visited a handful of times. To update her parents on what is going on in her life. Even with all the change, they are still there. And they will never leave, lying in the backyard of the mill, buried beneath two heavy stones that mark the dates of their life.

And here she is, far away on another world, years later, and her most heartfelt wish is still to simply go home. A foolish thought, and yet Chloe doesn't know just what to do with that wish that is doomed to never come true. In these moments, she isn't a hero; she is just a lonely girl, homesick for a place and a time that are forever lost.

"My condolences."

The words are plain, but the way the Ascian says them feels surprisingly honest. Maybe because of their simplicity, Chloe thinks. She doesn't reply; she only nods at him before going back to her work. Silence stretches, and when she takes another glance, he is still watching her.

"What is it?" she asks as she notices the scrutiny in his eyes.

Emet-Selch looks almost lost in thought for a moment before he shakes his head, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"It's everything, dear. From your demeanor to your attire, there is nothing all that heroic about you, is there?"

Chloe can't really protest his observations, not when she often thinks the very same thing. And even though her friends are very polite, Chloe has learned over the years that many of them think of her in similar terms. It doesn't bother her, though. It's not a negative thing; after all, it's just who she is.

"My clothes are practical," she shrugs, wiping the earth off her hand on the robust pants she wears before she reaches for another string. "I am not trying to impress anyone."

"That is painfully obvious," the Ascian remarks before he clicks his tongue. "Well, at least the obnoxious smell from our last meeting is gone. What they pass for perfume in Eulmore is an offense to the senses!"

At his indignant tone, Chloe has to stifle a laugh. On that, she definitely has to agree with him. The perfume she and Alphinaud practically had to bathe in to gain entrance had been overwhelming, and most of all, persistent, blending into the overall mixture of overdone scents that seemed to permeate the entire city.

"It was very intense …" It's the strongest word she can think of that doesn't sound downright insulting. "But it looked expensive. I never saw something like that before."

"You don't seem the type," he comments with a slight scoff. Why he seems to take offense at that, Chloe can't tell, and so she simply shrugs.

"I guess I'm not."

All through this exchange, she keeps working, the task of tending to the plants grounding her and taking a bit of her nervousness about his whole discussion away.

"You are really content with this?" the Ascian asks after another short stretch of silence. "Digging around in the dirt while others make plans that involve you and your future?"

For a moment, she pauses, her eyebrows drawn together as she thinks about his question. Doing this kind of work has never bothered her, on the contrary. It relaxes her and helps her think. And she feels useful during it. In a room full of people much smarter than her, educated about things Chloe has never even heard of, she rarely ever feels even close to this. She is not helpful during planning meetings discussing world events. On the contrary, the time needed to explain things to her could be better spent on finding solutions for their problems, after all. Out here, she is the one fixing problems on her own because she knows what to do. Out here, Chloe doesn't feel like an outsider, even if she spends her days on her own.

"The Scions know more about it all than I do. I couldn't contribute much," she finally answers. "I can out here, though."

"In the dirt, petting the plants…"

At his dry tone, Chloe has to chuckle.

"I'm not petting them," she explains with an honest laugh. "I'm helping them. I bind them to the supportive reeds so they can grow better and don't crumble under the weight of the fruits. Otherwise, they would turn foul before they are ripe."

She has no idea if he is in any way actually interested in this, but it's the first time she doesn't feel overly hesitant or self-conscious when talking to him, and somehow it helps her feel more secure.

"And I clear out the weeds, so they don't take away from the plants. It's not complicated, but it's what I can do to help," Chloe adds with a smile, but when she finally stops talking, she realizes that he had rather expertly dodged giving her a reply. 

"You haven't actually answered my question," she points out, her hands still busy with the plants as she shoots a glance at him.

"Did I not?" The smile on Emet-Selch's face is sharp as he gives her a pointed look. "Oh dear, one could be tempted to think that was entirely on purpose," he adds, and Chloe averts her eyes, looking at her own working hands instead.

"Oh," she murmurs as a hint of embarrassment rises in her. 

From the corners of her eyes, she can see him lean against a brick wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he keeps watching her.

"Ah, very well," he sighs. "I guess you could say, in a way, we are gardeners too. We take out certain parts so other things can flourish."

His answer gives her pause, and for the moment, her hands are still as she thinks about it.

"When you say take out, you mean killing, though," Chloe finally says with a frown, looking up to see him give her a slight shrug.

"Not the main intention, but surely a side effect, yes," Emet-Selch agrees. "But that's what you're doing too, right? Rip them out and toss them aside because they don't matter as much as the plants you wish to see grow."

He sounds so very casual about this that something cold runs down her back. She has always suspected that for the Ascians to do what they did, they must not much care about any other living creature. But to have him confirm it with such a careless attitude reminds her sharply of just who he is. Not that she had ever truly forgotten, but for a moment there, she had felt almost at ease in his presence, finding it remarkably easy to speak freely, despite him being a stranger to her.

"That is a very gruesome analogy," Chloe says quietly. "It would require you to see the lives you take as nothing more than…."

"Weeds," he finishes her sentence, confirming her thoughts, and Chloe draws in a sharp breath.

"What a horrific view."

She doesn't know from where she takes the courage to simply tell him this, but the words leave her before she can think any better of it. Emet-Selch, meanwhile, chuckles, and something about it sounds almost like he pities her.

"With the way you keep insisting that you are not important, you can hardly be offended when I agree with you," he says smoothly, and at her shocked gasp, he simply shrugs. "You don't seem to have much sense of self-worth, so why would you expect me to see any when you clearly don't?"

She finds herself spluttering, trying to come up with a good answer, but her mind is completely blank. A small part of her thinks that what he says is not entirely without merit. Not about people being like weeds, of course, but when he calls her out for her view of herself. Chloe would be the first one to say she is nothing special, so it is only natural if no one else would regard her as such. There is something about the way he phrases this that bothers her, though.

"Why do I have to be important to be allowed to live?" she asks, proud that her voice barely shakes at all. "Every life is worth preserving."

"Is it now?" he asks with raised brows before he pushes himself off the wall and comes a little closer, gesturing at the pile of discarded plants next to her tomatoes. "Even the weeds?" 

Chloe knows she should rebuff his insinuation. It isn't comparable, after all. Plants are not the same as people, as feeling and thinking creatures. Or maybe, to him, it actually is, she thinks a moment later. But like before, she can't find the right words, and when he receives only her silence, Emet-Selch tilts his head.

"Tell me why you should live then, my dear. Give me one good reason, and make it a convincing one."

"I…" Chloe starts, trailing off as she realizes she still doesn't know what to say. What would a compelling and convincing reason for someone like him even be? She certainly doesn't know.

"Can't you think of a single thing?" Emet-Selch asks after a while of waiting before he lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine then, why do you want to live? What is it you strive for?"

If that question is supposed to be easier, it certainly doesn't feel very much like it. She balls one of her hands into a fist in a fit of anger. Why can't she answer any of his questions? It shouldn't be this hard. Chloe closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath.

"I just want to help," she finally says before she dares to look at him again. "Make myself useful and not be a burden."

If he appreciated her giving him an answer in the first place, it doesn't show on his face. Instead, Emet-Selch merely frowns.

"That sounded half-hearted at best." His voice leaves no doubt about what he thinks of her reply, and his eyes narrow as he scrutinizes her. "You really don't have a better answer, don't you?" he asks before shaking his head in disbelief. "Now I almost feel sorry for you, my dear."

Almost lazily, he starts to move, closing the remaining distance between them. His light and piercing eyes never leave her as he comes to a halt right in front of her. Chloe instinctively sways back, but there is only so far she can go without straight-up running away.

"So much potential and so little direction," Emet-Selch murmurs, shaking his head once more. "My advice? Find a better answer for yourself. One day you will need it."

Chloe looks at him with wide eyes, unsure just what he means by that, but a moment later, he draws back, and suddenly a portal appears right behind him.

"You're leaving?" she asks, dumbfounded.

The reply she gets is another shrug.

"I don't want to overstay my welcome, but I am sure we will see each other again."

And with a casual wave of his hand, he is gone.

Chapter Text

Finding Alisaie does not go at all like Chloe thought it would. In fact, nothing about the next few days is something she could have ever imagined. She learns more about the threat this world faces, and with every little bit of information, her task becomes more daunting. The Exarch has gone to great lengths to bring her to this world, but the longer she stays here, the more out of her depth Chloe feels, the more she simply wants to return home. If not to a specific place, then at least to the Source. Primals and Empires are something she knows by now. Something she can survive. This, on the other hand? It feels insurmountable. 

Images of a young woman being turned into one of these monsters right in front of her haunt her whenever she closes her eyes, and when she and Alisaie return to the Crystarium, exhausted and grief-stricken, there is no time to rest. Instead, their help is needed right again.

Chloe can see something break in her friend when they are made to fight the very woman Alisaie had shed hidden tears over only a few hours prior. And if Chloe feels her own heart break already, she can barely imagine how bad it must be for Alisaie.

In the evening, long after all fighting has ceased, the Crystarium is a very somber place to be. The refugees are given shelter, and Alphinaud takes his sister away to get her to rest. Chloe knows she should sleep too after the ordeal, but the thought of being alone in her big and empty room is simply unsettling, and so she finds herself sitting at the bar next to the markets. The hour is late enough so that barely anyone is there as she nurses a drink and then another one, losing track of time as she lets her mind wander.

After the third drink, there is a pleasant buzz, one that makes it harder for her mind to go and revisit battlefield over battlefield.

"Aren't you a pitiful sight, my dear."

It speaks to her state of mind that Chloe doesn't even flinch when she hears Emet-Selch's voice. Instead, she takes another sip of her drink as he makes himself comfortable on the empty chair beside her without asking.

"In Eulmore, they have Sin-Eaters sit next to Vauthry like trained pets, and in Amh Araeng…" Chloe swallows heavily before she takes another large gulp out of her glass as if to wash away the bad taste of blood-stained sand that stubbornly lingers in her throat.

"I saw someone turn."

Those quiet words are all that she adds, but it doesn't need more. To her surprise, the perpetually amused look on Emet-Selch's face changes into one of plain understanding.

"It is horrific," he agrees with her unspoken judgment.

"I saw her again, in the small town here in Lakeland. We had to…"

She trails off, looking a bit forlorn into her half-empty glass. They had to, right? There had been no other path, nothing else they could have tried. Everyone had said so, especially the people from this world who have been living with the threat of the Sin-Eaters for many, many years by now. And still, it feels not enough. Like she should have done something differently.

"You truly had to, my dear," Emet-Selch says quietly as if he somehow knows exactly what she is thinking. And maybe he does. Chloe has never been particularly great at hiding her feelings if she, for some reason, was unable to smile through it. "Once turned, there is no way to reverse such a transformation."

"Not even for someone like you?" she asks, stealing a glance at him while clutching her glass.

In the corner of her eye, Emet-Selch leans back and gives her an amused look.

"Why? Are you tempted into proposing an alliance already?" he asks with a slight chuckle before he shakes his head. "Alas, such a feat lies beyond even my powers."

It's not surprising, yet somehow still disappointing. Given the overwhelming might that the Ascians had presented so far, it is hard to imagine things even they can not influence. Hard, and maybe a bit frightening. If someone like him could not help those turned, then it seems to be an unavoidable truth that everyone touched by the Light is inevitably doomed. A sobering thought for someone like Chloe, who is used to confronting unfavorable odds on the regular.

"Maybe I should just go back to the Source," she murmurs with a sigh before she empties her glass. The alcohol tastes bitter, but by now, she no longer cares about the taste. "All of this… it feels far too big for me."

"If you want a pep talk, you've come to the wrong person," the Ascian points out with a scoff. "Or have you already forgotten that it is highly beneficial for me if you give up on your cause?"

Chloe's eyes widen as she realizes that she is not only sitting here, in the middle of the night, drinking next to their enemy like it's no big deal; no, she is also confiding in him like he is a friend.

"Right…" she murmurs, trying to not let it show just how flustered that realization makes her.

It doesn't seem to make a difference to Emet-Selch, though.

"Oh, two almost civil conversations, and you are already forgetting who I am?" he asks with a knowing smile on his face, and something about him feels like he is taunting her. Or maybe, he is simply pointing out a fact. Chloe has a hard time telling with him.

"In my defense, you being so friendly is throwing me off," she explains without looking at him.

"You having drunk several of those is most likely throwing you off," he replies with a nod at her empty glass.

She had briefly wondered if she should maybe refill her drink once more until she forgets about this more embarrassing interlude, but he has a point.

"I don't usually drink this much." 

Chloe has no idea why she suddenly feels the need to explain herself. And to him of all people, who most likely couldn't care less. Once more, he raises an eyebrow at her with a clearly amused look on his face.

"You know, my dear, somehow this is utterly unsurprising." His voice shifts from a rather dry tone to something more inquisitive as he adds, "You are not usually one to give in to whims and impulses, are you?"

"I don't think I normally have any of those," Chloe answers with a shake of her head. "But today was… a lot. So I should probably just go to sleep."

When she slips down from her chair, she has to grab the bar for a moment as everything around her starts to spin. Her knees buckle, but before she falls, there is a strong arm around her shoulder, keeping her up and steady.

"Careful, hero."

The amused smile is still on Emet-Selch's face as he looks down at her, and once again, Chloe is starkly reminded that she shouldn't be here, with him, talking like they were friendly acquaintances instead of enemies.

"I don't need any help," she murmurs as she tries to slip out of his hold. If only the room would stand still for just a moment.

"I beg to differ," he says dryly before his hold tightens. "Now be quiet and let me."

He doesn't seem to care about her quiet protest as he steers her away from the bar. In fact, he steadily ignores her next attempt to decline his help. But after a couple of unsteady steps, part of her is glad for his help as she realizes he walks her towards the Pendants. Her room is not far from where they are, but in her current state, the trip back on her own might have quickly become embarrassingly long and complicated for her. Like this, though, and with her mind wandering aimlessly, she finds herself in front of her door a lot faster than anticipated.

"Thank you," she murmurs, staring at the door as she tries to remember if she had locked it and where she had put the key.

Next to her, Emet-Selch pointedly clears his throat. With a confused frown, Chloe looks back up at him, and it's only when he nods at her hands that she realizes she is clinging to his coat in support.

"You might want to let go if you have any plans of actually opening that door of yours," he says with a raised brow, and Chloe can only nod.

"I am so sorry," she apologizes, but as she slowly takes her hands back, she sways once more, almost stumbling into him. Once more, his arm is around her in support.

"If you weren't half out of your mind, I'd be sorely tempted," Emet-Selch murmurs, and he is so close Chloe knows she should move away. 

He is dangerous, after all, but knowing something and doing it seem to be two totally different things, the latter one being particularly difficult right now with her mind being slightly hazy. Then again, he had been remarkably calm and not at all aggressive towards her. So maybe she indeed simply worries too much.

"Tempted to do what?" Chloe asks curiously instead of drawing away. "You could have attacked me that day in the gardens already with no one noticing."

"Oh, dear…" The look Emet-Selch gives her is part amusement and part disbelief as he shakes his head. "I am talking about a very different kind of temptation."

Chloe blinks. 

Once, twice, trying to make sense of what he is saying when he leans closer, and suddenly she finds herself trapped between him and the wall, his arms on each side of her head caging her in. When she looks up, his eyes are piercing, and he slowly licks his lips before they curl into a sly smile.

"Oh…" she breathes out quietly, her cheeks burning with sudden heat as it dawns on her what she missed earlier.

"There we go, now you get it," he murmurs, and for a moment, the tension in the air is nearly unbearable. The Light on the wall flickers slightly, making the shadows they cast tremble just like her hands do when all of a sudden, Emet-Selch takes a step back. 

"And on that note, I wish you a good night," he says calmly, the smile from before gone. All that remains is a hint of amusement in his eyes before he turns, waves his hand once, and walks away straight into a dark portal, leaving her alone with her thoroughly unsettled thoughts.

Even much later, when she lies in bed, safely tucked in under the covers, Chloe can't quite shake his words. The way he had looked at her, with that peculiar mix of amusement at how slow she had been to understand his insinuations with something that had seemed plain hungry. The memory still has her flushed. She isn't sure if it's that or the alcohol she drank, but her whole body feels hot, and Chloe turns around several times, trying to find a comfortable way of going to sleep.

Unsuccessfully so. Her mind keeps running back to that moment and further even. Now that she thinks about it, it hasn't even been the first time that he had been this close to her. She remembers the day in the gardens, the way he had towered over her, and she had been mesmerized by his words. How he had talked about her being more interesting to watch. Somehow, Chloe had mainly thought about how he was most likely assessing how much of a threat she might be. She feels almost a little bit stupid for only realizing now what else that had been. Both his teasing and her own reaction to it. But now that she realizes it, she finds herself unable to stop thinking about it.

When she thinks about how Emet-Selch's lips had curled around the word 'temptation,' there is an ache between her legs and a tingling sensation in her chest, yearning for something. Before Chloe thinks better of it, one of her hands is already moving down, slipping underneath her night shift and into her underwear. She's alone in her room, after all, what can it hurt to give into just a little indulgence? Even if it contains thoughts about the most inappropriate person out there - no one has to know. And no one will know, Chloe would certainly never confess any of this to another living soul, but when her fingers brush over her folds, already feeling a hint of wetness, she lets out a soft sigh.

This is wrong on so many levels, but now that she's taken the first leap, she can't stop. Her other hand joins in, spreading herself open so she can run her fingers through her slick and around her clit. Her touch is soft and tentative at first, still beholden by the thoughts of how inappropriate it is, but when she closes her eyes, she sees Emet-Selch's amused smile and his piercing eyes, and just like hat her touch becomes bolder.

If anyone knew…

Chloe bites her lower lip and clenches her eyes shut tightly as she moves her hand under the covers. Somehow, the mere idea that she is not supposed to have these thoughts make them all the more potent. She always does what is asked of her, and she never ever breaks any rules. She had never wanted to before. Pushing two of her fingers inside her as she imagines the way Emet-Selch had looked at her while trapping her against the door definitely breaks a rule somewhere. And yet, Chloe doesn't stop. Doesn't want to stop.

With her eyes clenched shut tightly and her face pressed into her pillow, Chloe lets out a muffled sigh. It doesn't take her all that long until her whole body goes tense and the pillow gets to swallow another, slightly louder sound as her own touch sends her over the edge.

For a moment, she just lies still, not moving or even daring to open her eyes. Her breath is fast and uneven as Chloe feels the heat on her cheeks rising at the thought of what she has just done. Can she blame the alcohol for this? She isn't entirely sure about that. Mortified, she wonders just how in the world she is supposed to look Emet-Selch in the eyes if, or rather when, she sees him again. While she is no stranger to the one or other moment of quick relief from tension, she has never been particularly interested in thinking about someone specific during it. Nor had she been aroused enough by another person to consider taking things into her own hands before. She knows it's a common occurrence for many people. She has heard people talk often enough; it just never had been one for her. Not until now.

For the longest time, Chloe had simply assumed that the whole topic of attraction simply wasn't a factor for her. She groans into her pillow at the thought that, of course, the moment she realizes it is one, after all, it manages to involve a catastrophically bad idea. Maybe she should just scribble 'has highly questionable taste' onto her resume, another bullet point on the long list of things that make her anything but the shining hero people are so determined to see her as.

She is glad that her room is dark already, and she pulls the covers up to her nose as she curls herself into a small ball beneath and sighs. Now that the earlier tension is gone, the small moment of pleasure is all but forgotten, and what remains are feelings of guilt and inadequacy. They linger, running circles in her mind until the weight of the day still resting on her shoulders finally gets too much and allows her to fall into a deep slumber.

She doesn't have much time to think about how to react around him when the next time she sees Emet-Selch is right on the following morning while she hurries through the marketplace to get herself a small breakfast. Chloe blames the alcohol, but she has slept a lot longer than she usually does. This wouldn't matter on most days, but she is supposed to meet the Scions in the Ocular this morning, and now she is late.

Chloe is never late. Not once has she ever made someone wait for her. Anxiousness floods her at the mere thought of doing so now, and when Emet-Selch seemingly appears out of nowhere and wishes her a surprisingly cheerful good morning, Chloe doesn't have time to think about feeling weird around him. 

"Morning," she mumbles in a hasty reply as she pays for her food, already glancing over her shoulder, wondering if she should take the nearest aethernet shard or if she would be faster by simply running there.

"Not enjoying the beautiful day, my dear?"

With a wave of his hand, he gestures to the side where the sun has risen but does not yet stand overly high. Unlike the glaring and unsettling white of the eternal Light before, its glow is warm and soft. Not far from them, Chloe can see rays of sunlight hitting the small drops of dew that sit on the leaves of the bushes. It is indeed a beautiful morning, and after weeks of unnatural weather, it feels surprisingly soothing in its normalcy.

A pang of regret runs through her at the thought that it would be the perfect weather to take her breakfast outside and enjoy the beginning of the day somewhere quiet, but after having overslept, this is not an option right now.

"I wish I could," she murmurs before hastily taking her food, glancing at the large clock hanging at the wall.

"You aren't one to savor the moment, are you, hero?" Emet-Selch sounds almost a bit chastising, and Chloe frowns, wondering if she is about to get a lecture on valuing her surroundings by an Ascian of all people when he suddenly leans closer and speaks quietly right next to her ear, "No, with you, it's all rushed, stolen moments, rustling blankets, and muffled sounds under the open window…"

She's about to murmur a polite reply and excuse herself when his words truly sink in, and Chloe freezes on the spot. 

"What?" Her hands clench around the paper bag holding the bread she just bought as she can feel herself turning red in embarrassment. "How the... Were you in my room?"

Next to her, Emet-Selch has the audacity to laugh.

"I really don't know why you are so surprised, my dear; I've told you I like to watch, didn't I?"

The self-assurance with which he speaks throws her thoroughly off. After all, this isn't something anyone would bring up in polite company.  

"I… you can't just," she starts, but her voice gives out under the thought that he had witnessed… As she vividly remembers said moments from last night, the feeling of it returns as well, and her breath goes faster as she also remembers just what thoughts had been on her mind. About him. And suddenly, she is more aware than ever before about how close he stands and how, even in this rather humiliating circumstance, his presence stirs something in her just like it had the night before. 

"Clearly, I can. And you, my dear hero…" Emet-Selch pauses, and while she can't find it in herself to look him in the eyes, she can see a slow smile spreading over his face. "Ah, it is as I thought," he murmurs. "Under all that mortification, there is a small part of your that is intrigued."

"There certainly isn't," Chloe insists, and she wishes her voice would sound a little bit more stable, her words a little bit more believable as her embarrassment overwhelms her. She wishes she could just brush this off, maybe say something quick-witted that would make her look uncaring and aloof, but she can't think of a single thing that wouldn't make this worse. All she can think of is what she always falls back to when overwhelmed - retreat.

"Excuse me, I'm late," she stammers, clutching her bag tightly as she avoids looking at him, and Chloe doesn't dare to look back even once as she breaks out into a run.

Chapter Text

Emet-Selch doesn't follow her. It's a small mercy, even if it does little to calm down Chloe's nerves. It is almost a relief that the next emergency is right around the corner. And what an emergency it is. She has no time to slow down and think about him as they make out to rescue a young girl from the armed forces of Eulmore, and she desperately tries to hold her own against an overwhelming force.

Chloe isn't a natural fighter. She would argue she isn't even a fighter at all. And yet, the path she has been set on ever since she had agreed to help back in the Waking Sands so many years ago has put her into situations where she had to fight over and over again. She clutches her book like a lifeline in these moments. Even after years, she has not managed to find a way to be comfortable or even somewhat confident in combat situations. She tries to keep to the sidelines, to the back of things, shielding and healing people as well as she can. Each time she has to use her magic offensively, it's a struggle. One she faces because she has to. 

Against this general from Eulmore, she can do little but try to evade his onslaught, every moment expecting to be just a little bit too late to dodge yet another attack. Chloe almost sheds tears of relief when Thancred appears out of nowhere and takes over. Out of all the Scions drawn to the first before her, she has probably missed him the most. 

And then they are on the run, finding themselves in one strange situation after the other, trying to deal with pixies and the local wildlife while finding a way to yet another one of their companions.

All of it keeps her woefully busy, a stressful but welcome excuse to not think about the Ascian at all. Except it's not working. Not completely, at least. Thoughts about him manage to sneak up on her in almost every free minute. 

When they reach Urianger's home, and everyone agrees to take a prolonged rest, she is rather suddenly left with nothing to do. At first, Chloe ventures out and finds herself some busy work, indulging some pixies, almost letting herself get roped into their pranks. All to avoid having some time to think, but it does not last.

Late in the evening, Chloe leaves the dinner table that is still brimming with lively discussion as everyone catches up behind to retreat somewhere between the many many bookshelves that fill her friend's home from ground to ceiling. Urianger's library is impressive. For having only been here a couple of years, he has amassed a wide variety of books. Most of them don't catch her interest or rather seem far too specific and complex for her to understand. But in a far corner, she finds a shelf that doesn't have complicated works of the utmost importance. Instead, there are several rows of smaller books that, upon closer inspection, turn out to be actual literature. Books written with the sole purpose of entertainment. Chloe smiles to herself as she reads over the titles and finds fairy tales, tales of adventures, and more on the shelf. Even someone as stern and learned as Urianger seems to have a need for some levity once in a while.

What catches her eye are a handful of books that clearly venture into a different direction, though. She pulls one of them out and sits down on the floor in front of the shelf as she leafs through the pages of a book whose whole purpose seems to be nothing but romance. Romance and some of its more explicit parts, she realizes not far into the book. Her ears feel a little hot from embarrassment, and Chloe can't help but scoff at herself. Compared to her disastrous encounter with Emet-Selch in the morning, this should be nothing. She is alone, after all. It's not a forbidden thing or a grave secret, she thinks as she looks at the book's cover, remembering having seen many similar books lying around in the Rising Stones. No one else seems to be embarrassed about reading them, so why should she?

Resolutely, she keeps on reading, soon losing track of time as she finds herself drawn into the book. It's not even the story or the characters that compel her. Chloe realizes quickly that she finds them rather uninteresting. It's more the fact that the book manages to switch from overly flowery language that is filled with something soft and tentative to quite blunt descriptions. Descriptions explicit enough that they have her gasp and shift a little as she realizes the direct words certainly have an impact on her that is not simply embarrassment.

"What are you reading?" comes Thancred's voice suddenly from behind, and Chloe flinches, snapping the book shut before she scrambles around while trying to hide the cover from view.

"Nothing," she murmurs, barely able to lift her eyes.

"That doesn't look like nothing at all."

Thancred grins and plucks the book out of her hands before Chloe can try to react. 

"Huh, and just who let you nose around in the adult section of the library?"

He is teasing her, she knows he doesn't mean anything by it, but it still somehow gets under her skin. 

"I am almost your age, Thancred," Chloe points out. "I don't need anyone's permission."

Quietly, she holds out her hand, waiting for him to return her book, but Thancred is flipping through the pages with interest.

"I mean, far be it from me to criticize your reading habits," he says nonchalantly as his eyes are stuck on a page, and he reads a few paragraphs before he shakes his head. "Though they are most definitely better-written books for this around."

"I wasn't reading it for entertainment," Chloe protests, feeling the sudden urge to defend her choice. When Thancred gives her a questioning look, she lets out a sigh. "I was actually more interested in the technicalities," she murmurs, looking past him to get a handle of her embarrassment. "You know, the more hands-on bits?"

Thancred's eyes light up in understanding, and with a chuckle, he closes the book and hands it back to her before he crouches down and comes to sit next to her.

"Any special occasion?" he asks with a knowing look, and Chloe lets out an embarrassed laugh.

"You mean am I seeing someone?" she asks, and with a sigh, she shakes her head and adds, "I'm not. It's more, um, research for myself?"

Even with her roundabout phrasing, she feels awkward about the words, true as they are. She is absolutely not seeing anyone. Though it is definitely because of some of the things Emet-Selch had said that she is here now, surrounded by very mediocre literature. Books she doesn't necessarily want to read, but that are somehow tempting nonetheless. She bites her lips in thought as she looks from the books to Thancred.

"You know a lot about women, right?" Chloe asks a moment later, noticing how he almost winces a little at her blunt question.

"Uhm, I've had my share of experiences, yes," he says with a little laugh, scratching the back of his head and looking almost apologetic at her. "But you know that well enough, I guess."

At his sudden embarrassment, Chloe has to laugh.

"You are the reason I knock on every door in the Rising Stones before entering, even if they don't lead to private chambers," she agrees with a chuckle. "So maybe you can just tell me…"

"Whoa, uh, don't you think it might be way less awkward and probably more efficient to talk to another woman about this?" he interrupts her.

He doesn't look put out, to Chloe's relief, more like he is simply concerned, but she shakes her head.

"I would, but who? Alisaie is a teenager and hopefully has other things on her mind, and Y'shtola isn't here," Chloe points out, only for a frown to settle on her face at that last thought. "But even if she were, could you imagine asking her something like that?"

At her skeptical tone, Thancred lets out a laugh.

"Vividly, I can picture the fireball in her hand already."

"See?"

Chloe chuckles as she imagines the situation. Next to her, Thancred lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

"Alright, I might regret this, but what is it actually about?"

"I'm… it's just…"

Now that he actually looks at her expectantly, Chloe feels overly self-conscious again. But she wants the advice, and after another short moment of hesitation, she manages to find her voice.

"How do you find out what you like? I seem to have absolutely no idea what I might enjoy, and I should, right?"

Thancred lets out a little huff, his hand scratching the back of his neck as Chloe knows he tends to do when he is slightly nervous. It's endearing and somewhat reassuring that she is not the only one feeling a little out of her depth at the moment.

"Uhm, it's a process?" he starts with a small frown as he looks at her. "Chloe, have you actually ever?"

"No!" comes her rigorous answer quickly enough he doesn't even have to finish that sentence.

"But you are talking about sex."

Thancred doesn't phrase it as a question, and yet it still is one. At least to a degree, and Chloe nods slowly.

"Yes. Among other things." 

It's not just about that, in the end. It's about many more things that have been on her mind these past days. And somehow, every one of these thoughts has its roots in one of the conversations she's had with Emet-Selch. Not that she can say that part out loud. 

"It has recently been brought to my attention that I have very little knowledge of what I enjoy, what I want and like in any aspect of my life."

At her overly formal explanation, Thancred lets out a hearty laugh.

"And you thought you'd start with this ?"

By now, she is hopelessly flushed, but at the same time, she can't help but chuckle along.

"It… came up?" she murmurs with a helpless shrug as something in her relaxes a bit. This is one of her closest friends, and while he would probably have ample things to say about the company she's kept these past few days, he would never judge her for the thoughts she has.

"My suggestion?" Thancred says at that moment with an encouraging smile on his face. "Don't worry too much about it, don't put too much pressure on yourself. Start with something small. In any aspect of your life." His playful wink at the suggestion makes her chuckle before he simply adds, "Try out something new and see if you like it, and go from there. If you do, you have a direction to further explore. If you don't, you've also learned something."

Chloe scrunches her nose as she thinks about it. "Is this still about sex?" she wonders, not sure if she understands him completely right.

"Among other things," Thancred quotes her with a grin. "It goes for everything, right? Try a different flavor of drink every now and then, maybe play a card game." At her steadily widening eyes, he holds up his hands with another laugh. "Hey, don't look at me like that. You are one of the most laid-back and responsible people I know, Chloe. Live a little, instead of wondering abstractly what you might or might not like just… try things out. Do something unexpected once in a while. Dare something."

It sounds perfectly reasonable when he puts it like that, yet at the same time, Chloe can't help but think it also sounds terrifying beyond belief.

"What if I do something stupid?" she asks quietly, glancing at the book that had started the whole conversation.

"What, you mean like all of us do at some point? You're allowed to, you know?"

He sounds so matter of factly it makes Chloe wonder if she is overthinking things. Maybe she isn't, though. Thancred's advice is well-meant, but he doesn't have all the facts, after all. He doesn't know who has gotten her to think about this in the first place. Would his advice change? Would he perhaps even take it back if he knew?

"And if it's a mistake?"

Her simple question causes Thancred to shrug and smile at her again.

"Well, sometimes you can't tell until you tried. And a few mistakes are usually not the end of the world."

His answer almost makes her snort, and Chloe closes her eyes for a moment. She is very aware of the irony hovering somewhere between those words. Then again, Thancred had been right about one thing in particular. Chloe is a responsible person. Always has been, even when she had been a child. Growing up like she did, early on involved in the day-to-day life of her parent's farm, responsibility had been at the forefront of nearly everything. Being helpful had always been a lot more important than doing what she wanted. Not that it ever bothered her. When looking back, Chloe doesn't feel like she has missed out on many things, but at the same time, she can't help but wonder how much more there is. And how much of it she might maybe like.

"You've certainly given me a lot to think about." With a genuine smile on her face, she nods at Thancred. "I might actually finish the book. Mediocre it may be in your eyes. In the interest of trying something new, of course."

Thancred laughs. "Once we are back on the Source, you should definitely ask Lyse for some recommendations. I've been told her personal stash is filled with books that are 'actually quite well done and totally worth reading for the plot,' " he quotes their friend before he gets up. "I will return to the others and leave you to your research then."

Once he's gone, Chloe keeps eying the book in her hand. A while ago, she simply would have put it back onto the shelf and told herself it's not worth spending any time on, especially when all it is for is self-indulgence. But there is nothing more planned for this evening, and she certainly has a bit of time left before turning in for the night. Maybe a simple 'why not' is indeed a good enough reason, for now, she thinks as she opens it once more and looks for the page she had been on before.

It's not long until she hears the others rummage around Urianger's house, and she knows some are getting ready to sleep. Chloe has no intention to do so just yet, and neither does she want to be interrupted again. She takes the book with her before she tells the others she is going for a stroll, promising them to be careful and not engage further with any of the pixies, of course. Their earlier encounters had been enough to teach her to be on her guard around them, despite their deceptively lovely and friendly appearance and demeanor.

The unending Light in this area makes sitting outside on a couple of logs behind the house and reading even though it is night-time already an easy thing. If the nights here were normal, Chloe would have thought twice about venturing outside on her own if she is honest. She has never felt comfortable being out in the dark. A spell for summoning a guiding light at night had been among the very first things she had made herself learn when she had started practicing her magic. It's never really a problem in places like Mor Dhona or Limsa Lominsa, of course. The buildings and streetlights give enough shine to see even in the darkest parts of the night, but she remembers the many nights making camp in the wilds that had left her deeply uncomfortable. Darkness tends to bring back old memories of hiding away in a cellar during the calamity, huddled in her mother's arms and still being deadly afraid despite not being alone. No, the Light is an upside in that regard, even if Chloe knows full well the tragedy it has brought to this world.

The book certainly helps distract her from all these gloomy thoughts, but even that comes with a downside, for it does bring back memories of the previous night in the Crystarium instead. Of what she had done on an impulse and the thoroughly embarrassing moment the morning after. She knows, of course, rationally speaking, that she is not the one in the wrong here. Emet-Selch had freely admitted to straight-up spying on her in her own bedroom. If anything, she should be outraged at that. It's none of his business what she does behind closed doors, after all. And yet, her mortification of what he has witnessed weighs far heavier somehow. As does the recurring thought that maybe it is a little bit his business, after all. Or at least the recognition that what she had done had definitely been because of her wandering thoughts about him.

Resolutely she tries to ignore those for now and focuses back on her book. All she needs is to ignore them long enough, and they will hopefully go away. Easy. She can do that.

A few pages further, she puts the book down again with a defeated sigh. She can absolutely not do that. Sitting behind the house on her own, mulling everything they had talked about over in her head Chloe feels just as lost as before. More so now that, with all the quiet around her, she has even more time to think. About things, she'd rather not, like the slow but steady realization that next to her mortification, part of her, however much she wants to ignore it, feels a strange sense of pleasure at the thought that Emet-Selch had seen what he had. There is something about him that keeps intriguing her, and it's definitely the worst part about all this.

With a sigh, she lets her head fall into her hands, clenching her eyes shut.

"One day surrounded by the pixies, and you are already willing to tear your hair out?"

Chloe groans at the familiar voice, unwilling to look up and face him in her current state.

"It's not the pixies, and you know that full well," she murmurs, only to hear Emet-Selch laugh quietly.

"Oh, come now, dear, you can't still be hung up about that!"

Still? With a huff, she looks up after all.

"That was this morning! I don't think still being hung up about something that happened less than a day ago is in any way unreasonable."

"Maybe not," Emet-Selch concedes, but his amused look persists. "But you must admit, it does put a damper on things."

How he can simply make light of something that has Chloe so completely rattled she can't understand, but maybe she doesn't have to, maybe that is just something she has to push through.

"Look, I'm very sorry," she says, trying her best not to bite her lip again in embarrassment.

Emet-Selch looks almost thrown off for a moment.

"Sorry?" he asks with a frown, and Chloe lets out a sigh, waving her hand as she looks to the side.

"You know, for…"

Understanding blooms on his face, and a moment later, he lets out an actual laugh.

"Oh, my dear, I spy on you in your bedroom at night, and you go and apologize to me?" He takes a step closer, and the way he looks her over makes her almost want to avert her gaze again when he adds, "You know, someone with a less than honorable motivation could very well take advantage of you."

Chloe can't even try to contain the snort that leaves her at that.

"Someone like you, you mean?"

"Is that an invitation?" 

Emet-Selch wears the most innocent-looking smile, but the way his eyebrows rise tells her it is anything but.

"What do you actually want from me?"

The words burst from her, and she hates a little just how helpless her voice sounds, how much her confusion shines through. Chloe guesses that there is probably no point in trying to hide her awkwardness from him, not when it looks like he is trying to unsettle her on purpose. Like he knows exactly how easy she is to shake up.

"I thought that was obvious. I certainly managed to send your mind into the right direction."

That he did. Though why he would do so with her of all people is something she doesn't understand.

"I shouldn't even think about this, given who you are," Chloe murmurs, once again averting her gaze.

Why is it almost perpetually on her mind, though? Ever since he had crowded her against the door of her room, she can't seem to stop, even though she knows well enough that it is a terrible idea. No matter how generous Thancred may have sounded when talking about experimenting and even making mistakes. Is it really a mistake if she knows in advance that she shouldn't indulge in something, or does it already cross the line into wilfully doing something stupid?

From the look on Emet-Selch's face, he knows exactly what she is thinking, and his words only confirm it.

"Maybe you shouldn't," he agrees. "And yet your mind can scarcely think about anything else, am I not right?" 

With that, he snaps his fingers once, and to her surprise, he materializes a chair behind him before sitting down. Through all of that, he manages to look incredibly casual about the whole thing, no matter how bizarre it seems in this place, surrounded by a carpet of flowers at their feet and colorful, large butterflies fluttering about in between giant floating plants in the distance. Emet-Selch, in his elaborate clothes sitting comfortably outside with her like that, certainly feels out of place. As does the fact that they somehow still end up talking like they are almost friends or at least old acquaintances instead of enemies.

"Ah, cheer up, my dear, you look positively miserable and in dire need of help," he points out as he casually crosses his legs.

There is no one but them out here, and Chloe suspects that by now, everyone else inside is probably asleep, but the thought of being seen sitting casually together with an Ascian behind Urianger's home sends a tremor through her.

"What exactly are you doing?" Chloe asks, unsure what to make of this.

"Taking advantage, my dear," Emet-Selch replies with a casualness that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but at her surprised gasp, he holds up a hand. "No need to panic, I can assure you, I won't even touch a single hair on your head."

"You won't?" Chloe blinks in confusion.

"You must admit, this is a far more interesting setup," he says, leaning back to simply look at her, and the way his eyes wander leaves her both a little scared and intrigued at the same time.

"I still don't understand," she murmurs, eyes still darting back and forth between him and their surroundings, as if she expects someone to catch her at any moment now. "What setup?"

"Come on, my dear," Emet-Selch says with a look that seems to go directly under her skin. "Be honest with me. You like the idea of someone watching you, don't you?"

Only a day ago, Chloe would have thought she'd be horrified at the mere thought, but she can't deny the strange shiver that runs down her back as his voice rushes over her. Something in his eyes is terribly intriguing. Wrong, and not a good idea at all, but at the same time so tempting.

"So what, you want to have a talk about that out here?" she finally manages to ask, eyeing their surroundings suspiciously.

Not for very long, though. Her attention is being brought back to him when he lets out another amused chuckle.

"And what good is talking about your newfound interest going to do?" he asks with gleaming eyes. "No, you are clearly intrigued, and I must confess I have nothing better to do."

With her brow furrowed, Chloe watches him, trying to make sense of what he is saying. Surely he cannot mean... Emet-Selch keeps looking at her with a mixture of amusement and expectation, and her eyes slowly widen as it dawns on her what he is implying. Her cheeks feel flaming hot as a shiver runs down her back. She cannot help but stare at him. 

"I've never even-" she whispers, not trusting her own voice.

He doesn't take his eyes off her as his smile widens ever so slightly.

"No experience at all, my dear? How delightful!" When she splutters at that, he adds with a telling look, "Almost as much as the fact that you haven't felt the urge to simply say no..."

Chloe freezes, realizing he is right about that. She has indeed not told him no. Nor has she told him off for getting so close to her or even for watching her in the first place. She has been far too preoccupied with how she feels about all of this to even think about telling him to stop.

"Would you leave me alone if I told you to?" she finally manages to ask, hating how timid her voice sounds once again.

Emet-Selch gives her a long look, his face utterly unreadable before he finally leans forward with a smile.

"Tell me to go and find out."

It's not at all the answer she has been hoping for. It tells her almost nothing, and Chloe can only guess that this is by design. His face is expectant, waiting for her to say something, anything really. When she stays quiet, his smile widens.

"As I thought," he says in a low voice that sends another shiver down Chloe's spine. But it's his next words that make her truly gasp. Clear and to the point, they leave nothing as a mere insinuation. "I shall make this easy for you, my dear. You will do as I tell you to, and you are going to let me watch."

Chapter Text

For a few moments, Chloe is completely quiet, her mind racing as she wonders if she truly understands him right.

"You are serious?" she finally gets out, glancing quickly behind her to make sure they were still alone. "Here?"

Only after asking those questions does she realize that she still somehow hasn't said no. It should have been her first thought, shouldn't it? But it definitely had not.

"No one will see you," Emet-Selch says, sounding almost encouraging before his smile widens. "Well, except me, of course."

And isn't that the whole, treacherous point, in the end, the bit that hasn't left her mind since she had found out he watched her this morning? Last night had been vastly different, though. Chloe had been slightly drunk, thought herself alone in her room, blissfully hidden away beneath blankets and in the dark. Now she is completely sober. Above her, the light is unrelenting, and if she does what he just told her to, there will be no hiding behind anything for her. The thought is as terrifying as it is exciting.

"So what do I, I mean-" she starts, looking down at where she still clutches her book in her lap as she wonders just how to go about this. "I don't think I can-"

"Put that book away. You won't need that," he interrupts her firmly but calmly, and somehow that does make things a lot easier. 

This is something she is used to, after all. People tell her what to do all the time. And most of the time, she is grateful for the direction. In a way, this is no different. With a nod, Chloe follows suit, putting the book down somewhere onto the logs on the side. 

"Close your eyes, my dear. At least for now."

Again, this is something easy to follow. And with her breath going a little faster, Chloe's eyes flutter shut. 

"Good," he praises her, and the appreciation she hears in his voice sends a little shiver down her back. "Now, just let your hands wander a bit over your body. Take your time. There is no rush!"

For a moment, she wishes his direction was more precise, telling her where exactly to touch, but a small part of her scoffs at herself. She is not a complete novice at this, after all. She is a grown woman that has known how to address her own urges for years. A little nervousness should not leave her so helpless. 

Chloe keeps her eyes firmly closed as she lets her hands slide up and cup her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. The one she wears today is simple, a row of buttons in the middle and made out of a material that isn't very thick. She can feel the warmth of her hands through it as she squeezes slightly and lets her fingers tease the hardened peaks that probably show through the fabric now.

"Like this?" she asks timidly.

She doesn't know if this is what he wants to see, but it's undoubtedly a sensation she enjoys, and Chloe lets out a soft sigh as she pinches herself slightly through her clothes.

"Do whatever makes you feel good, my dear," Emet-Selch encourages. "I will tell you if I want you to do something else."

His voice sounds a bit closer, and Chloe imagines him leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at her. Instinctively, she presses her legs together at the small bolt of desire that rushes through her. This is completely and utterly crazy and not at all what Thancred had meant when telling her to try something new, but she can't find it in her to care at this moment. Not when the knowledge that Emet-Selch is watching her do this alone has her already excited beyond measure.

Without sparing any more thoughts as to how much she should not do this, Chloe lets one of her hands slide lower, down her stomach, and in between her legs. It's just the barest hint of pressure, the way she rubs over her center through her clothes, but it is enough to make her gasp already.

"Lift your skirt, my dear," Emet-Selch murmurs in a low voice. "Show me what you are doing, every little touch."

She swallows heavily as the heady words send a shiver down her back before she reaches for the hem of her skirt and does as he asks. She moves slowly, fingers clenching into the fabric as she pulls it up to her hips.

"Go on, touch yourself, and keep that skirt up."

There is a little growl to his tone, and Chloe can't keep her eyes closed any longer. With parted lips and wide eyes, she looks at him and takes in the way he is watching her, clearly enjoying what he sees.

"Look at you being bold; I like it," he praises her as he catches her eyes. 

For a moment, he keeps her gaze before he quite demonstratively lets his eyes wander lower, lingering on her hand between her legs. Chloe's breath hitches a little as she rubs over her panties with a bit more pressure than before, her whole body reacting to the slight touch. She hasn't even touched herself all that much, but she is somehow more aroused than she had ever been in her life before. Where it usually takes her a while to work herself up, his attention alone seems to work to fuel her desire more than her own touch does.

"Now, spread your legs a little," Emet-Selch prompts her in a low voice, and she does it without further thought, another shudder of excitement running through her when he adds a soft, "Yes, just like that."

Chloe can't even waste a single thought on the question of whether this might be a terrible idea or downright wrong anymore. Not when she has never felt quite like this. A few days ago, she had wondered if maybe catching the attention of an Ascian like Emet-Selch was just the worst luck someone like her could have - now she feels like it's the exact opposite. She sighs softly under her own touch, giving in to the urge to move her hand a little faster. Her face is flushed under his heated gaze as he leans a bit more towards her and gives her an encouraging nod.

"Pull your panties to the side. Just a bit," he says in a low voice. "Let me see you."

Her lips are parted, her breath going faster, and Chloe can't keep her eyes off him as she does just that. She pulls the fabric aside, and when she touches herself, the first thing that becomes obvious is how drippingly wet she is from all this. She knows he can both see and hear it, and when her fingers rub directly over her clit a moan spills from her lips. 

"Emet-Selch," she breathes out, gasping around his name as her hips move a little into her own touch with how needy she feels for release by now. 

He licks his lips as his eyes flicker from her hand up to her face.

"You're so close already, aren't you?"

"Yes," Chloe nods with another sigh. "So close."

"Then come my dear," Emet-Selch orders. "And keep your eyes open. Look at me while you do."

It doesn't take her more than this. The moment he tells her to, her fingers twitch, and her whole body shakes for a moment as she loses herself to the wave of pleasure crashing over her. Chloe's eyes remain open and fixed on his, making the whole moment feel surprisingly intimate, considering he hasn't touched her even once. But it doesn't even seem to matter. Not when the moment is his nonetheless.

When she slowly calms down, a small part of her still can't believe she just did this, but any doubts get drowned out by her whole body going lax as the tension that has kept her entire body captive finally ebbs away. The way his eyes still don't leave her, and the overwhelming feeling of doing something so wholly daring it almost feels too ridiculous to conceive, make her let out a disbelieving laugh.

"That was… something," she murmurs, carefully looking around once more as she finally remembers their surroundings.

To her utter relief, they are still the only ones out there, and part of her almost wants to laugh again at the thought that she feels glad about being alone with an Ascian. And Ascian, who still watches her every move.

Now that the earlier tension is broken a bit, her usual feelings of trepidation and uncertainty start to sneak up on her once more. Whether she wants to or not, it seems. Chloe knows she wanted this, had liked every moment, but the clearer her head gets, the more giant do all the reasons she shouldn't have appear.

With her eyes firmly set on the ground, she pulls her skirt back down, clearing her suddenly dry throat when Emet-Selch lets out a sigh.

"And we are back to this, aren't we?" he says with a shake of his head. "Regretting this already, my dear?"

She can't tell if the hint of disappointment in his voice is real or for show as she swallows heavily before raising her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed again, and Chloe curses the fact that she blushes so terribly easy and not to mention visibly as she worries her lower lip with her teeth.

"I don't regret a thing," she manages to get out in a somewhat shaky voice, and even though she feels like a nervous wreck again, she knows this is true.

She doesn't regret it at all, and part of her longs for more, but another, far more insistent part has no clue how to deal with all of this, doesn't even know how to handle the mere idea of wanting things and actually acting on that.

Emet-Selch doesn't respond. He simply keeps watching her, his eyes strangely piercing as if he is looking for something.

"I think I need to go," Chloe murmurs, fidgeting as she gets up and grabs her by now almost forgotten book. "Early day tomorrow, I really need to sleep, you know how it is."

She knows she is rambling, but her nerves get the better of her. To her relief, Emet-Selch does not seem inclined to make this worse for her, at least not for now. He simply gives her a nod, an unreadable expression on his face as he snaps his fingers once to summon one of his portals.

"Sweet dreams then, hero," he says simply before he is suddenly gone.

The chair he had summoned earlier has also disappeared, and when the portal dissipates, there remains no trace that he was even here in the first place. With a furiously beating heart, Chloe clutches her book tight as she makes her way back inside, knowing that after this, she will have a hard time finding some sleep at all. She barely does in the end, her mind too full of racing thoughts that keep her up most of the night. 

The next day comes with more chores and finally something to actually get them closer to their goal. A test of some sort. Chloe is no stranger to going through trials to prove herself to someone. She has had to many times before. This time, it is different, though. The Fuath are not quite as she had expected, and their sudden change of heart catches her off-guard.

And just like that, she finds herself going from a fairy tale-looking paradise to her own personal hell.

The eternal light might bathe all of Il Mheg in its eerie glow, but at the bottom of a lake that is far deeper than Chloe would have thought, it doesn't reach. Down there, in the depths, it is pitch black, as she finds herself surrounded by water on all sides. 

The water is cold, cold enough to be painful as it fills her mouth when she can't stop herself from trying to scream. She tries with everything she has not to think about other dark places that haunt her memories. Underwater, there is barely any sound, and still, Chloe feels like she can hear screaming, terrifying noises of desperation, and she finds herself struggling blindly in the dark.

For a moment, she feels like she is actually drowning. Like something is cutting off all her air before she remembers that it shouldn't matter. She has the blessings of the Kojin. They have taught her how to wield their magic to breathe underwater years ago, but even when she realizes that, she can't manage to calm herself. There is another voice. Ardbert is there somehow, sounding encouraging, but Chloe barely hears a word he says over the blaring thought that she needs to get out of here.

Finally, she starts to swim. Stroke after strike towards the faint glimmer of light above, she works her way up from the bottom of the lake. Her clothes feel heavy, billowing around her in the water, making every move take that much more effort, and when she finally gets close to the surface, her arms and legs are almost numb from exhaustion.

Despite not running out of air, Chloe gasps and splutters as she breaks through the water's surface. Her eyes burn, and her lungs heave as she makes it to the shore. It's not even close to where they had gone in, and she can see none of her companions around. The moment her feet touch the ground, she runs, even if it's slow for the first few steps, until she is truly out of the water. When she is finally entirely on dry land, she falls to her knees, coughing, her fingers digging into the grass as she forcefully tries to convince her still shaking body that she is alright. 

She is fine.

There wasn't even any real danger, she tries desperately to remind herself, yet it doesn't seem to matter at the moment. Not when she is shaking like a leaf.

"Now that is not quite the heroic return that would be appropriate," she suddenly hears Emet-Selch's voice from not far away. "Did you manage to inflame the natives, dear?"

"They tried to drown me," Chloe gets out with another cough. Her eyes still burn, and right now, she is glad for the fact that she is completely wet from head to toe, making it so that the hot tears running down her cheeks are not standing out at all.

"Of course they did. They are fae. Fickle." Emet-Selch clicks his tongue as he comes closer. "They wanted something, so they just went ahead and took it."

She knows, of course, that dealings with fae creatures tend to be unpredictable. Both Thancred and Urianger had gone to great lengths in trying to explain how these creatures think and behave. And still, they had caught her off-guard. In a way that is her own fault, she thinks and gets her fingers to relax from where they are still buried in the ground before she slowly pushes herself up to stand. They tried to drown her, but they hadn't succeeded, and that should be all that counts.

It should be.

And yet it is most certainly not. 'Don't be angry at spilled milk,' she hears her mother's voice in her ear. 'People who make a fuss rarely get taken seriously.' And Chloe has to try and force herself to keep breathing deeply, to not give in to those other thoughts as she tries to smile.

"Why are you trying to calm yourself?" Emet-Selch asks rather sharply, and when Chloe looks up at him, his brow is furrowed in displeasure.

"I shouldn't be…" she starts, her voice breaking off as she has to cough again.

Her throat still hurts, and she knows it's from trying to scream herself hoarse at the bottom of the lake where no one could ever hear her. She can't stop the shiver running down her back at the memory as Emet-Selch lets out a scoff.

"Shouldn't be what? Angry that someone tried to kill you?"

The words seem harsh when they fall from his lips. Driving home the reality of his statement with a painful directness. This is what happened. There had been no misunderstandings, no accidents. And still, she is hesitant to truly say what she feels. It's not just her mother's admonishments that are on her mind, but also the many small instances when people had been almost offended the moment she had even slightly raised her voice or tried to decline a task. Chloe has long ago learned how to be the person everyone expects when they talk about the Warrior of Light. Anger has no place in that.

"People get uncomfortable when I'm angry," she points out quietly. 

"There is no one around here but me."

He is right, of course, but Chloe doesn't even dare to think about this any further. Not when the moment she does make room for the possibility, the fear that she has forgotten how to be anything but polite rises in her with a vengeance.

"I shouldn't get angry," she murmurs again, more to herself than to him. Like she is the person that needs convincing. "These things happen, and when they do, I smile and assure everyone I'm fine, and then they leave me alone, and…"

"You are not fine, my dear," Emet-Selch sneers, and when he grabs her shoulders to make her look at him, something in Chloe feels dangerously close to bursting.

"Of course, I am not fine," she hisses under he breath. "They tried to fucking drown me!"

Desperately she tries to hold on to her calm. Deep, even breaths and a smile are all it takes. She has been through worse, and she will be expected to go through it again. She knows she can manage as long as she remembers to smile through it, but it seems like Emet-Selch is intent on not letting her find that peace.

"Stop trying to hide yourself," he insists. "Let it out for once!"

Something in his demanding tone is like a match lighting a fire.

"Stop telling me what to do," Chloe hisses, and a moment later, a growl falls from her lips as she pushes his hands off and shoves him back. To her surprise, Emet-Selch actually lets go and takes a step back, and despite just shoving him away, she follows after, grabbing his coat in an insistent hold.

"I am so sick of everyone telling me what to do! Chloe, go here, Chloe, kill that! Fight this monster, let yourself get beaten up by that Ascian so everyone else can escape. Go save this world while you're at it, and if you're going out already, would you mind talking all my crap and bringing it to random people? I could just visit myself, but hey, you're the hero; they would like their soup better if you brought it."

Her breath hitches as the words tumble from her like a damn breaking, finally letting all the water run free. Her knuckles are white from how tightly she grasps his coat.

"I am so, so... tired," she adds a bit more quietly. "I just want to go home!"

Emet-Selch has not tried to interrupt her once. A strange sense of sympathy lies in his eyes as he clasps one gloved hand around hers.

"But you can't go home," he says quietly, and Chloe can't even try to fight the sob breaking from her.

"I can never go home," she whispers. "So I stay, and I do all this, and I smile because if I don't, everyone just keeps giving me really unhelpful advice." A dry laugh leaves her at that before she shakes her head. "And I do all their tasks, and if I didn't have that blessing from the Kojin, who by the way made me swim through what felt like an entire ocean at some point for their chores, I would be dead right now." 

When she looks up into his eyes, her own are filled with frustration.

"I went through all their stupid trials, and they tried to drown me…" A somewhat embarrassed laugh leaves her as she realizes she just blurted out nearly all the things she usually holds so close to her chest. "And I think this is the longest I've ever talked without someone interrupting me. You should have stopped me."

"I disagree," Emet-Selch says simply, and Chloe shakes her head. 

"I can't believe I'm having yet another heart-to-heart with an Ascian," she murmurs, and it's only now that she realizes just how close to him she is standing.

It shouldn't be this bizarre, not after what happened last night, but she is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that even if that whole thing had felt terribly intimate, he hadn't actually touched her during it. Not even once. Now, though, she is almost plastered against him, probably ruining his coat with her wet clothes, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"It looks like you can't help yourself, dear," he says with a raised brow, and it looks almost a bit like he is scolding her, but his tone is surprisingly warm, not quite matching that impression.

Maybe he is right. With how easy it feels to talk to him, and more even, she really can't seem to help herself in his presence. She doesn't think there is another person alive who has ever seen her lose her temper or even her composure before. Yet Emet-Selch seems to coax all these other sides of her to the surface, and he doesn't seem to mind seeing them at all. It could almost be a comforting thought if Chloe could manage to ignore who he is for a moment. She can't, though, and the fact that he's the enemy should have made her recoil and avoid him at all costs from the moment she realized who he is. And yet she hasn't, and with a frown, she realizes that neither has he. Shouldn't the same hold true for him?

"Why are you even here?" she asks before she can think any better of it, and Emet-Selch gives her a surprised look.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you come to check on me?"

She asks the first thing that comes to mind, and his reply is a hearty scoff.

"Hardly, don't flatter yourself, hero."

"How is the fact that you apparently already assume I fail in any way flattering?" Chloe can't help but point out before she shakes her head in defeat, knowing that she won't get a straightforward answer out of him. But there is another thing she can't help but wonder about. "If I didn't have that blessing, would you have let me drown?"

Now that the words are out, she isn't even sure she wants an answer to it when Emet-Selch gives her a long look.

"That would have solved all my problems," he finally says, but there is no heat behind his words.

"I guess it would have…" Chloe trails off, thinking once again just how lucky she had been to have had fate on her side this day when she realizes something about what he just said. "You didn't actually say yes," she murmurs quietly, and Emet-Selch's eyebrows rise.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she insists hastily, slowly unwrapping her fingers from his coat before taking a step back. "I should go and find the others."

"Probably," he agrees, with what still looks like a hint of a frown. "But are you up to all that?"

If she would let herself, Chloe could almost believe to hear concern in his voice. For her. Which is absolutely ridiculous. Yet a small part of her can't help but wish for it somehow. This is dangerous, she knows full well, wanting comfort and assurance from someone like him.

"They'll think the worst has happened to me if I don't return soon, and I don't want anyone to worry about me."

By now, she sounds almost like her usual self again, and a tired half-smile is on her face as she looks around to get her bearings, trying to pinpoint just where she will most likely find her friends when Emet-Selch lets out a sigh.

"You think you can keep that from happening?"

"Huh?" she asks, and confused, she turns back to look at him, only to find his face once again unreadable.

"Nothing," he insists with a shake of his head. "You should go and find your friends." He looks her over once more. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes are suddenly dry, and before she can thank him, he is already gone.

Chapter Text

They fight yet another Lightwarden, and Chloe can't help the sneaking suspicion that something doesn't appear to be quite right about this. Like in Lakeland, the dying creature bleeds out Light attuned aether, and it finds its way into her just like before. It's a strange, uncomfortable sensation. Not painful, per se, but not pleasant either. Like something is nagging at her, pulling and scratching over her skin until the aether settles and everything returns to normal. Except for that slight sense of unease in her stomach that remains. Something about all this is unnatural, not right. She wouldn't know how to start describing it, but absorbing the Light does something to her body that feels utterly wrong. Once they return to the Crystarium, she should talk to the Exarch about it, she knows. That is if she dares to do so. When she tried to mention the strange sensation after the first Warden, he brushed her concerns aside, telling her she shouldn't worry about it.

Easier said than done. Chloe worries constantly. About everything, really. It's just part of her. Most of the time, she is at least aware that she tends to worry about things others don't and is overly anxious when it's not entirely warranted. This time, it feels different, though. Part of her wishes Y'shtola were here to assure her and answer her questions. When it comes to the strange behavior of aether, she usually has a great deal more insight than anyone else. And, unlike the Exarch, Chloe has known the other women for years and knows she can trust her words implicitly. But to her dismay, she has to make due on her own, for now.

After everything is tied up in Il Mheg and they manage to get through yet another confrontation that has Chloe desperately clutching her book, hoping to avoid escalation, arriving back at the Crystarium is a relief. That is until Emet-Selch decides that this seems to be the ideal moment to make his presence known to the rest of her group. When she suddenly hears his voice from behind them, and he strolls up to them as if they are old friends, Chloe's throat closes up in panic. There is no way of telling how everyone will react to knowing she's been talking to an Ascian for a while now. Not to mention if they find out talking isn't all she has been doing, but to her surprise, he doesn't reveal their prior acquaintance at all.

Emet-Selch's eyes rest on her for a while as he talks, but no one seems surprised that his attention is on the Warrior of Light. It does help that Chloe lets out a genuinely surprised gasp when Urianger reveals Emet-Selch to be the founder of the Garlean Empire. It certainly explains why he looks the way he does, Chloe thinks, though it comes with a slew of new questions - none of which she dares to ask. Instead, she keeps quiet throughout the whole thing as she wonders just why he is revealing his presence at all. He says nothing about his possible motivation, of course. All he does is make an unusually forthcoming offer of cooperation that has the entire group, Chloe included, in disbelief before he is gone again.

Everything after, their report to the Exarch about Il Mheg included, passes by in a sort of haze. Chloe barely pays any attention to it, too preoccupied with Emet-Selch's behavior to do more than nod and agree at the appropriate moments. She hurries back to the Pendants the moment they are done, hoping her instincts are right when telling her she might find more answers in private than anywhere else, and she does not get disappointed. He is waiting for her when she closes the door to her room, leaning against the wall next to the window overlooking Lakeland, casually watching the night sky.

"You took your time," he says with a hint of displeasure in his voice as if they had an appointment Chloe is late for. "I was beginning to get bored."

For a brief moment, she can do nothing but stare at him in confusion, and her first instinct is to apologize.

"I'm sorry, the meeting with the Exarch took much longer than I thought it would," Chloe explains before she stops with a frown as she realizes that she doesn't owe him an explanation at all. 

If anything, shouldn't he explain his strange behavior to her ? She takes a deep breath before she takes a few steps further into the room. Her room. This is her space, after all, and he is an intruder, despite how much he behaves like he belongs here.

"What in the world would drive you to suddenly reveal your presence to everyone?" she dares to ask the first question on her mind.

"It was about time, don't you think?" Emet-Selch replies with a shrug. "One cannot skulk about in the shadows forever, after all." 

It's not really a useful answer at all, and Chloe frowns, ready to insist on getting a better one when he regards her with a curious look.

"You have not disclosed to your friends that you have known me to be around for a while," he points out with raised eyebrows.

"No, I haven't. I didn't know how-" she starts, wincing slightly, but Emet-Selch doesn't let her finish.

"Oh, spare me a lengthy explanation, I certainly don't mind," he scoffs before pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards her. "It is rather interesting, though."

"Interesting?"

She isn't sure what he is getting at.

"To watch you try so hard to be who they want to see," he says with a smile that looks like he is pitying her.

"I am not trying to be anything," Chloe rushes to protest. "That's just me!"

"Really?" The skepticism is practically dripping from Emet-Selch's voice as he slowly comes closer. "You do whatever you're told, not letting them see your anger or your sadness, smiling at everything. And you've spent quite a bit of time in my company now but haven't informed them about that either." He casually lists all these things, and with each word, Chloe feels a bit more uneasy, biting her lip as he leans in for another question. "So, this person they see, the one they think they know, is that truly you?"

And what an uncomfortable question it is. One that isn't entirely new to her. Not that she would be able to admit that out loud, nor does she see herself capable of answering it properly right at this moment. Perhaps, for once, she can take a page out of his book instead.

"So why Garlemald?" Chloe asks a question of her own, and the sudden change of topic coming from her certainly seems to do the trick and throw him just a little bit off.

"Excuse me?"

"Urianger concluded you built that nation, and probably others before, to bring about as much chaos as possible." Chloe had barely paid attention during the meeting, but when the topic had revolved around Emet-Selch, she had been all ears, soaking in every bit of information. "Hence not naming an heir, for instance."

"Not just a historian but a useful one then," Emet-Selch says with a scoff. "I am impressed."

He doesn't sound impressed at all. More like he is slightly annoyed

"So that's true then?" she asks as she tilts her head with a frown. "I don't understand why Garlemald then. If your goal was to purely cause chaos and bloodshed, why not take over a nation like Ul'dah, filled to the brim with power-hungry black mages?"

"Maybe you are looking for a deeper reason where there is none to be found, my dear."

His voice is full of condescension again, but Chloe can't help but wonder further. His explanation simply doesn't fit what she knows of him so far.

"You don't seem like someone who does things on a whim," she points out, and this time, Emet-Selch's eyes narrow.

"Oh, don't I?" he asks in a deceptively sweet voice. "Are you certain you are a good enough judge of character to determine that?"

"What?" Chloe tries to understand what he is getting at. The sharp look of his eyes doesn't match his overly friendly tone at all, and it leaves her more confused than anything. "I don't know what you mean," she adds with a confused frown, and the way the corner of Emet-Selch's mouth twists up is way too sharp to be considered a smile. 

"Just how many times have you fallen for someone's schemes because you were just a little bit too naive or simply didn't know better?" he asks, and this time the harshness in his voice is unmistakable.

"I.. guess?" Chloe murmurs, fighting the impulse to take a step back when his eyes narrow even further.

"Do you really think you, of all people, have any insight here?"

His scolding and sharp tone make her flinch, and this time Chloe does take a step back. Her hands clench into the fabric of her skirt, knuckles white from tension as she tries to look anywhere that isn't right at him.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, you are right," she gets out quietly. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!"

"Oh, by his grace, stop apologizing ."

With the way he takes another step closer as he snaps at her, and his words sounding downright aggressive, Chloe flinches again.

"I'm s…" she starts again, biting down her tongue to keep herself from apologizing even more. 

Her heart beats fast, and for the first time, she isn't just wary and careful but downright afraid in his company. He follows her gaze as she eyes the door with an uneasy look. When Emet-Selch scoffs at her reaction, something in Chloe protests insists that this is not quite right, and before she can think any better of it, she follows an impulse.

"It's not fair," she murmurs, and while she doesn't dare to fully look at him, she can see his brows raise.

"Pardon?"

"I simply asked a question trying to understand. It's not fair of you to turn it around on me like that."

Chloe's voice is still quiet, and she avoids his eyes, but when he clicks his tongue and shakes his head, she doesn't flinch.

"My dear, who has ever claimed any of this to be fair?"

His question is ripe with cynicism, and by now, Chloe is no longer avoiding looking at him.

"That's your excuse?" she asks, her voice filled with disbelief. "Life isn't fair; deal with it?"

Emet-Selch shrugs casually like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"It's a simple fact."

He may very well be right on the larger scale of things. Chloe knows from her years of working and fighting for the Scions that sometimes unfair things happen, and there is nothing she can do about that. But this is a personal situation, a one-on-one conversation, definitely not something far beyond anyone's control.

"It's a very poor justification for you behaving like a…" she starts only to press her lips shut before finishing her rather unflattering thought.

"Behaving like what exactly?"

Emet-Selch's eyes shine with a challenge, and Chloe barely has time to wonder what it might mean that she thinks she can see a hint of a smile on his face when she takes a step forward and balls her fist.

"Like an ass!" The words come out louder than she planned, and a second after she's said them, Chloe winces, and her eyes are cast downward again. "By the twelve, I'm so sorry! I didn't… well, I did mean it, but I shouldn't have said it like this, and-"

She stops herself once more, thrown off by the way his shoulders twitch, and when she slowly looks back up again, she finds Emet-Selch with the most peculiar look on his face. He has one gloved hand in front of his mouth, and his eyes are narrowed, but unlike the stern look he has given her before, this is very different. He looks downright amused. Genuinely so, and Chloe realizes he is laughing. 

"Why are you…" She trails off and stares at him for a moment, unable to make sense of this when he takes a deep breath, and his composure slides back onto his face. Though a trace of humor remains in his eyes. 

"You think I behave poorly towards you, and you are telling me to cut it out and treat you decently, is that it, my dear?" he asks, and it's so incredibly straightforward Chloe can do nothing but nod.

"Uhm… yes?"

Emet-Selch lets out another amused huff, shaking his head before giving her an intense look.

"So you can go toe to toe with an Ascian and tell your mortal enemy he should stop being mean to you, but you can't tell your friends when you don't like something?"

"Wait, what?" Chloe blinks, and with her confused frown comes a realization. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"That depends," he replies smoothly. "Is it making you angry again? Then that's a definitive yes!"

For a moment, Chloe is utterly speechless, and she shakes her head in disbelief before taking a deep breath.

"You are an… unkind person," she mutters, and in front of her, Emet-Selch smirks.

"I definitely am, and that was not what you originally wanted to say."

Her cheeks feel hot, and Chloe knows she is flushing in embarrassment at his claim, but there is no use in denying it.

"No, it wasn't," she admits before straightening her back and looking him directly in the eyes. "But I won't say the other things. Because I am not an unkind person." Biting her lower lip, she sighs before adding, "But you've made your point, I think."

He looks unbelievably smug when she says this, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. The tension in the room seems to have ebbed off somewhat, and when Chloe breathes deeply, she becomes suddenly very aware of just how close she stands to him now. Almost close enough to touch. Which is an utterly ridiculous thought, right? 

He has never shown any inclination to touch her, after all. Even in that rather intimate moment in Il Mheg, he had not laid a hand on her. Instead, he had made a point of only watching. The only times he has been this close happened because Chloe grabbed his coat in her anger or when she was too tipsy to walk straight. 

Would he even want to? She can't tell, but she dimly remembers that evening outside her room and the way Emet-Selch had caged her in between him and the wall. How he had licked his lips and spoke of temptation. And just like that, her mind is at places it definitely shouldn't be, and from the way the look in Emet-Selch's eyes changes, he has noticed.

"You should watch that unguarded face of yours, my dear," he says, his voice pleasantly low. "It gives away just what exactly you are thinking about very easily."

If she weren't already flushed scarlet, this would definitely have done it. Maybe she should come up with something about having pressing matters to attend to, and most of all, she should move away, but somehow Chloe remains right where she is. There hasn't been much time to think about what happened in Il Mheg yet, not with how her days have been filled with non-stop tasks and discoveries. But part of her knows that it's a good thing because if she has too much time to think about it, all it will do is bring back all those thoughts she doesn't quite know how to handle yet. Then again, it seems like Emet-Selch's presence and proximity do that on their own already.

"Ah, it truly is like that, isn't it?" His gloved hand brushes softly over her heated cheek, and the touch is incredibly light as he leans a little closer. "You quite enjoyed yourself last time, didn't you? And now you want more."

Chloe wishes she wasn't so easy to read, but at the same time, it's almost a little freeing the knowledge that she can't simply hide away from this. As is the fact that he seems to see these things about her so quickly when no one else ever seemed to notice before.

"I know I shouldn't, but…" Chloe trails off, her throat feeling a little dry. She really shouldn't have these thoughts about him, of all people. But they are there, and they refuse to be pushed aside and ignored.

"Not very heroic of you," Emet-Selch says with a click of his tongue before his mouth curls into a slow smile. "I do wonder, though, are you willing to offer something in return, my dear?"

Her eyes widen as Chloe is, for a moment, thoroughly unsure of what he might mean before she realizes that there is only one quite obvious direction, and her flush deepens.

"What would you want from me?"

Chloe hates how timid her voice sounds when even though she clearly feels some hesitation, she is rather curious nonetheless.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Emet-Selch murmurs, and for a brief moment, Chloe could swear she sees a shadow move behind him despite the light in her room not changing, but before she can focus on it, he tilts her chin up and makes her face him. "I doubt you could handle what I want from you, dear. But that doesn't mean I can't be generous and give you a bit of what you seem to need so desperately."

"And what is that?" she asks with a shaky voice.

Emet-Selch lets his eyes wander all over her, taking his time answering while he takes in every little detail about her. The fingers under her chin nudge only a little bit, but the prompt is enough to make her sway closer.

"You want to be seen," he declares finally, in a voice so soft it is only meant for her. "You want to be known. By anyone, really, but since you feel you can't be yourself around them, you make do with me instead."

Chloe's heart beats faster. Something about this sounds far too real. He is peeling back layer by layer of her comfort, exposing what lies underneath, and no part of her feels even remotely ready for this.

"No, that's not-" 

"Shhh, quiet now," Emet-Selch interrupts, pressing a gloved finger to her lips. Instinctively she wants to look away from him, but he holds her firmly in place. "Keep your eyes on me, and tell me what it is you want."

Chloe's first instinct is to lie and claim that she doesn't know. It's a comfortable answer, one that people eagerly accept from her in almost any situation, but she knows he certainly won't.

"I…" she starts barely above a whisper, clearing her throat to put some more courage into her voice. "I…" 

Another try, and still, the words won't come. She doesn't dare to say them out loud. It's not like she doesn't want things. On the contrary, right now, it feels like she wants overwhelmingly much, but nothing makes it into words.

Emet-Selch watches her for a moment, quietly waiting and giving her every chance to say something before he lets out a sigh and takes pity on her.

"So the hero wants me to stick around and watch again?" 

When he asks, his voice sounds so terribly inviting that something in Chloe just melts.

"By the gods, yes," it almost bursts from her, and a second later, she flinches from her own brief bout of courage.

"Look at that, so close to actually saying what you want, but agreeing with someone else is always so much easier, isn't it?" 

Emet-Selch sounds almost like he is disappointed in her, but he doesn't move away, not even the smallest instance. Instead, he lets his gloved fingers trail along her jaw, ensuring she doesn't get a chance to lower her gaze.

"Then we will do this just like before. I will tell you what to do, and you will let me watch you. Understood?"

Her whole body is tense, and her heart beats almost out of her chest at his words. If she would dare to voice some of her own wants, she would ask for even more, but maybe, for now, this is enough. At least she already knows she can handle this. She would have trouble to even ask for this much. It is her luck that he is willing to indulge her anyway, and Chloe can do nothing but swallow heavily before she nods.

"Excellent. Though perhaps, just to be at ease," he murmurs as he lifts his hand and snaps his fingers. 

Chloe can hear the lock of her door snap shut, and all around her, the air flickers for just a second. When she gives him a questioning look, Emet-Selch simply shrugs.

"I prefer being your only audience, my dear. Your Exarch doesn't need to know everything that goes on in his tower."

She gasps slightly at the implication, ready to rush to his defense when Emet-Selch's finger is back on her lips.

"If you were about to say he would never, you don't know the man half as well as you think," he says with a clear frown. "But that is neither here nor there now." 

Emet-Selch's smile turns sharp as he lets his eyes run over her body. Having him look at her like that chases away any other thoughts, and Chloe gasps under the sheer intensity in his eyes. His earlier words about her wanting to be seen ring much more true than she is comfortable with. And yet he is about to see much more, she knows.

"Look at you," Emet-Selch murmurs, "You are so ripe with tension, with anticipation, your body ready to follow my every request, is that not so?" Absentmindedly, she licks her own lips as she nods, not daring to move as his gloved fingers trail down her throat and run along the neckline of her shirt. Unbearably slow, Emet-Selch traces along the fabric before he undoes a single button and tugs at the fabric just enough to get a glimpse of what lies underneath. He leans a little closer, looking almost like he's about to tell her a secret as he whispers into her ear, "Take off your panties for me, my dear."

Chloe's breath gets stuck in her throat when his hand falls away, and he takes a step back. His expectant eyes never leave her as he patiently waits for her to make the next move.

Chapter Text

For a moment, Chloe just stands where she is, completely unmoving. She stares at Emet-Selch, his request still ringing in her ears until he raises a brow at her hesitation.

"Go on, my dear, there is no reason to be shy about this, not after last time."

He is right. Chloe has undoubtedly shown him plenty in Il Mheg. Still, the act of reaching under her skirt and pulling her panties down her legs leaves her with heated cheeks. They fall to the floor as she steps out of them, and for a moment, she is incapable of looking him in the eyes.

"Good," comes Emet-Selch's voice like he is praising her for a particularly important achievement rather than something like this. But it doesn't matter that this might be a trivial thing for her to do, the single word still has a potent effect on her.

When she dares to look up again, she sees Emet-Selch taking a quick look around the room before he seems to settle on something. He leaves her standing where she is while he walks over to the small couch in the corner and sits down.

"Just follow; you are used to that, are you not?" he tells her, regarding her with a challenging look, and even though the words seem to burn a little under her skin, Chloe does as he asks. 

Slowly, she walks over to where he sits, prepared for him directing her towards the armchair perhaps. To her complete surprise, Emet-Selch does none of that, though. The moment she reaches him, he takes her wrist and pulls her closer. Chloe can't help the small yelp of surprise leaving her as he drags her straight up onto his lap, making her settle on her knees left and right from him. Her hand lands on his shoulder to steady herself as she looks at him with wide eyes.

"This way, I get to watch you much closer, my dear," he tells her with a leering look before a subtle nudge against her makes her spread her legs a bit further. "Now, show me how wet you are already."

Just like before, Chloe feels like her face is burning in embarrassment, but at the same time, there is no question about doing what he asks of her. There is something incredibly tantalizing about just having him tell her what to do and reaping only rewards from that. It's certainly worth being a bit flustered, and just like last time, she grabs the hem of her skirt and pulls it up.

Chloe knows it is more than obvious just how incredibly aroused she is by the situation, his presence, and the prospect of having him watch her again. And when she lets her fingers slide through her folds, she shudders slightly as even the lightest touch has her gasp.

The last time she had closed her eyes, thinking to make it much easier on herself by pretending she was alone. That is definitely not an option now, not when she can feel the fabric of his coat grazing her bare thighs. And certainly not when his hand comes to rest warmly on the small of her back. Then again, she also remembers vividly how much more intense everything had felt from the moment she had opened her eyes.

This time, they stay open right from the start, and Chloe's breath comes out in short bursts as she watches Emet-Selch slowly lick his lips. Part of her wants him to do much more than just watch. Feeling even his very simple touch on her back through her clothes is already throwing her for a loop, and her fingers twitch against her own skin at the thought that she wouldn't mind him going just a little bit further.

She could always ask him for it. He made that abundantly clear earlier, but the mere thought is daunting to the extreme. And then she gasps in surprise as his other hand trails over the neckline of her shirt again with the realization that maybe she doesn't have to say anything at all.

"Go on," he encourages her, and his deep voice sends a tremor down her spine.

She keeps touching herself, her fingers spreading her own wetness over her clit. Her touch is still light, almost teasingly so, and Chloe bites her lower lip with a small groan as she adds a little bit more pressure, torn between her arousal and the desire to not have this be over too quickly. 

Emet-Selch, meanwhile, casually undoes another button of her shirt. And then another. One by one, he works his way down until her shirt is wide open. She wears nothing underneath but her simple breastband, and she can see in his eyes that he enjoys the view. The way he looks at her has her legs shaking a little, and Chloe's hand is on his shoulder again, desperately trying to steady herself by clenching her fingers into the soft fabric of his coat. 

She just needs a little bit more, and her fingers speed up when Emet-Selch's hand suddenly clasps around her wrist, stopping her.

"Turn around, my dear," he tells her, and Chloe is far too worked up to even think about questioning him. 

She doesn't hesitate, shuffling and holding on to his coat, not minding at all when his hands are suddenly on her waist, helping her. And then one of those hands wander up, softly grazing against the side of her breasts before he nudges her shoulder and pushes her closer.

"Just lean back," he murmurs, and again she lets herself be led until she finds herself sitting on his lap, with her legs wide as she leans against his chest.

His breath is warm against her ear, and with how far he has bent her back, Chloe can only assume he still has a good view, being able to see down her body while having her sprawled out on top of him. The fact that he hasn't even taken off a single piece of clothing makes the whole situation only more exciting, especially when he takes her hand in his and leads it back between her legs.

Chloe moans softly as she touches herself again. If anything, his casual touches and the way he orchestrates the whole situation have her even more aroused. He still isn't touching her any more intimately than a hand on her arm or her waist, but with the way her whole body is pressed against him now, it feels quite different from the last time. When her fingers slip inside her, engulfed in wetness and heat, Chloe arches her back. 

She shivers a little as his hand trails up her arm. She wants his touch somewhere else, and the worst thing is she is nearly certain he would do exactly what she wants if she asked him right now, but the thought alone makes something in her almost recoil.

And like before, he seems to sense how torn she is.

"If only you could say what you truly want, my dear," he taunts her. His voice is filled with amusement, but at the same time, it sounds surprisingly gentle. "The things I would show you if you would only ask…"

Chloe whimpers, both from need and pleasure, as she pushes her fingers deeper and grinds the palm of her hand against her clit. And then he shifts a little and touches her anyway. Not exactly where she wants, but she can't keep herself from moaning his name when he squeezes her breast in both hands, teasing her through the fabric as his fingers pinch their stiffened peaks. It's a bit rougher than she thought she would enjoy, but Chloe can only gasp as his touch sends her over the edge, and she comes, clenching around her own fingers.

For a moment, all that can be heard is her labored breath, followed by a sharp gasp as Emet-Selch's fingers close around her wrist again. Without a word, he takes her hand and draws it back. She can't follow with her eyes as he pulls it up and behind her, but she doesn't need to. Not when his lips close around her soaked fingers, drawing them into his mouth. His tongue slides between them, licking them clean of her arousal, and something in her is equal parts aroused and mortified at the thought that he is tasting her.

"Next time, you are going to give me a little bit of what I want, my dear," he whispers closely to her ear when he finally lets go, and Chloe can't help the full-body shudder going through her at his words.

"You said I couldn't handle it."

He sounded rather sure of it too earlier, and not knowing what he actually wants from her makes her more than a little bit nervous. She gasps a little when his hands close around her waist, and he lifts her off him and puts her down on the couch as if she weighs nothing at all. Almost lazily, he gets up, and with a snap, he summons a portal before he turns back to look at her.

"Then you better hope I was wrong," he says with a slightly unsettling smile on his face before he inclines his head. "I will see you soon."

When the portal swallows him and disappears right after, Chloe lets out the breath she has been holding, slightly cursing the fact that his words manage to both worry her and make her wish he was still around at the same time.

Emet-Selch takes his time with seeking her out again, though. Maybe it shouldn't be that surprising, Chloe thinks. When no one knew who he was, he had an easy time simply appearing to her in the Crystarium's gardens. Even casually sitting with her while she had a drink had been no problem at all. Now there is bound to be someone who notices, and she is grateful for his discretion. Chloe isn't sure how she would even start to explain any of this to her friends. Not that she would even manage to get through more than two sentences without stuttering and giving in to the urge to hide her face behind her hands.

She is about to finish her dinner a day after, sitting at a small table in the Wandering Stairs by herself, lost in thought when someone sits down across from her with a wide smile. 

"Ah, am I catching you trying something new?" Thancred says with a grin, and Chloe hurries to swallow down her food.

"Sort of," she admits with a look to her half-filled plate. "It's supposed to be a Kholusian specialty, but I don't think I particularly like it. Too bland and yet at the same time too fishy."

"Ah, you win some, you lose some," Thancred says with a shrug before he snatches the fork out of her hand and tries a piece for himself. It doesn't take more than a few seconds before he swallows heavily and shakes his head. "Too fishy is about right. It's the only thing I can taste."

He looks almost slightly queasy for a moment, and Chloe pushes her water glass towards him with a sympathetic smile.

"Don't forget the one other taste; I think it was baked in a crust of pure salt."

With a grateful look in his eyes, he takes the water and empties almost the entire glass before he lets out a sigh.

"Wow, that is certainly… an experience," Thancred murmurs as he puts the glass back down.

"I know, right? I ordered a whole can of water after my first bite," Chloe agrees before she pushes the plate away from her. "And I think I am done with this particular experiment. Salty fish goes on the 'don't like it' pile!"

"Understandable." Thancred chuckles as he reaches for the jug and refills her water. "But I see you have been taking my advice. Found anything you like better than this particular dinner experiment yet?"

"Uhm… yeah," Chloe murmurs, once more cursing the fact that she blushes so quickly, and most of all, that it's almost immediately visible.

In front of her, Thancred lets out a hearty laugh.

"Not related to food then, I see," he says with a knowing look before he winks at her. "Good for you, I'd say."

And it is, isn't it? Her flush deepens as Chloe thinks back to her last few encounters with Emet-Selch. She had given in to the impulse to be reckless more than once, and nothing terrible had happened. On the contrary, in a way, this strange thing between them has somehow felt almost helpful. Not to mention it had been insanely pleasurable. There had been a peculiar sense of intimacy there both times, amplified by the strange fact that he had barely even touched her at all. 

For a moment, she wonders if she should simply tell Thancred about all this. He is one of her closest friends, after all. And the least judgemental of all of them. Maybe he would understand her confusion. She could certainly use some more advice.

"Actually," she murmurs, but her voice is so quiet Thancred doesn't seem to hear her, for he starts talking at that exact moment.

"There is another reason I was looking for you," Thancred says, looking around the bar and tables before leaning a bit closer. "I noticed how tense you were when we returned from Il Mheg and during our talk with the Exarch after." His eyes are full of concern as he reaches across the table and takes one of her hands into his own. "I don't think I've ever seen you so quietly on edge and uncomfortable before."

Of course, he would notice, Chloe thinks. Thancred doesn't always say something immediately, but he tends to pay very close attention, and he rarely misses the more subtle details of things happening around him. Then again, in this case, maybe that's a good thing given what she is about to tell him.

"You're right, I was," she admits with a small smile. "The whole situation was a lot."

Just tell him , she tries to convince herself to stop being vague. This is the perfect opportunity, after all. But while she still looks for the right words to make 'I've known this Ascian to be around for a while, and I may have let him watch me touch myself' sound less ridiculous, Thancred already speaks again.

"Hold on to that feeling," Thancred says with all of his lighthearted humor from earlier gone. "Especially when it's about Emet-Selch. As much as he might talk about cooperation, he's an Ascian, and you can not trust a single word he says." He nods gravely at that, his eyes taking on a faraway look for a moment before they are firmly back on her. "Trust your gut, Chloe, you are uncomfortable around him for a reason, and I just wanted to make sure you are on your guard."

Every thought about telling him what really happened retreats far back into her as she listens to his insistent voice. In moments like this, it is all too obvious how much Thancred's own experiences with Ascians still haunt him. And rightfully so, she knows. He never talked much about the time Lahabrea had taken possession of his body, but the few times he had opened up about it had been enough for Chloe to understand how deep some of his wounds still were.

What was she even thinking before? She scolds herself quietly in her head for forgetting even for a moment that while he usually didn't judge anything, this just might be the one specific exception. And even if she yearns for someone to talk to, she shouldn't even think about putting her own need above her best friend's comfort. The longer she thinks about it, the more the feeling in her grows that she should have known better than to be that thoughtless and downright selfish.

She is much more subdued when Thancred leaves a little while later, his words running through her mind over and over again. She knows he is right. Emet-Selch is an Ascian, and no matter how intriguing he is, even if he is sometimes almost nice, she shouldn't trust a word he says.

Yet she can't shake off the feeling that their interactions had felt nothing but genuine. There is an openness to the way he talks to her that has kept throwing her off from the moment they had first met. Something that draws her in and makes her want to know more. And in turn, Chloe has found it remarkably easy to talk to him about things she never told another person before. Not for the first time, she wonders if there is something thoroughly wrong with her. The person Thancred and the other Scions know her to be shouldn't even consider giving Emet-Selch the time of day. Had he been right in claiming that they don't truly know her? Or is it that she doesn't even really know herself anymore?

Torn and distracted, she makes her way back to her room, not at all paying attention to her surroundings as she mulls all this over in her mind. A sudden touch on the small of her back nearly startles her beyond belief when a finger presses suddenly against her lips.

"Shhh, you don't want to get the entire Crystarium's attention now, do you?" comes Emet-Selch's voice from her side before he takes her arm and leads her around a small corner. Before Chloe can react or ask what is going on, they push past a large curtain and into an empty alcove.

"It is surprisingly difficult to catch you alone, my dear," he says, but Chloe is thoroughly distracted by how close he is as he nearly crowds her against a wall. 

Close enough for the fur trims of his coat to brush against her and close enough so she breathes in his scent. She can't for the life of her understand how his proximity keeps having her on edge like this, but it takes little more than this to have her cheeks tinted red.

"I am usually alone in my room," she points out quietly.

"Your room has a pacing Exarch currently waiting for your return," Emet-Selch says, and his voice leaves no doubt as to how he feels about that.

"If he's waiting, then I better should-" Chloe starts, only to be interrupted with a scoff.

"I say he can wait for a while."

His tone leaves little room for arguing, and from the look in his eyes, Chloe has a feeling she knows why he has pulled her aside like this.

"Are you here for…" she can't even finish the question, and when she trails off, she tries to look anywhere but at his face. 

Of course, Emet-Selch won't have any of this, and gloved fingers trail along her jaw before they hold her firmly, and he tilts her head to look at him.

"I believe you know exactly what I'm here for," he says, eyes gleaming with promise, and when he nudges her further into the alcove, Chloe's heart starts to race.

"Here? In the middle of the Crystarium?"

"No one comes here," he assures her. "At least not if you keep quiet."

The idea is ludicrous. Chloe can hear the people on the markets going about their day. There is nothing but a flimsy curtain and a corner separating them. The mere thought should make her scoff and try to leave.

And yet she finds herself more excited than ever before. Even if she can't put it into words, part of her wants more, and that same part revels in the thought that he wants something from her too. She hasn't forgotten his assessment that she wouldn't be able to handle what he wants from her, though, and the worry clearly shows on her face.

"Nothing too difficult for a start," Emet-Selch assures her, proving once more that her face is an open book for him. "I would simply ask you for a little bit more for me to look at."

A little bit more? His cryptic words don't really reassure her, but the way his hand lies warm against her back still does, and after a moment of hesitation, Chloe finds herself nodding.

"What do you want me to do?"

He nudges her hip, and to her surprise, it's away from the wall.

"I want you to get down on the floor for me," he says with a nod to where he wants her. "Be a dear and kneel for me."

Her eyes widen, and her throat runs a little dry, but at the same time, Chloe doesn't even consider saying no. Instead, with her heart nearly beating out of her chest, she sinks down to her knees. When she looks up at him, there is a sense of power in the way he looms over her that nearly takes her breath away. Even more so when he pats her head like he is praising her for a job well done.

This shouldn't feel special. If anything, she should maybe be concerned and slightly uncomfortable, but everything about this situation seems to draw her in further. With a surprising amount of courage, Chloe manages to find her voice.

"What else do you want from me?" she asks, waiting for more instructions, and it seems like Emet-Selch is definitely inclined to give them to her.

"Open up your top for me and pull that breastband you wear down," he tells her with a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "I want to see much more of you."

Given that he has already had her take off her panties for him, this shouldn't feel like he is asking for that much more, and yet with the way she kneels before him, it definitely does. Slowly, Chloe unbuttons her top with almost steady hands before pulling it open and dragging her breastband down until both her breasts spill free and over it.

"Good girl," he praises her once more. "Now tell me, just how much do you want to touch yourself right now?"

Chloe can't help the way her cheeks flush under his question. She licks her lips before she quietly admits, "Very much."

"Then what's stopping you?" he asks with a deceptively open smile just before his eyes narrow. "Or do you really need my permission?"

Chloe splutters, and her flush deepens at the realization that she has indeed been waiting for something like that.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you, dear," Emet-Selch mutters with a shake of his head, but despite his slightly scolding tone, his eyes are filled with mirth. "Go on then, give yourself what you need, and in return, I shall do the same this time."

Her hand is already busy drawing her panties to the side and brushing over her folds as he shifts slightly. When Emet-Selch parts his coat in the front, Chloe's eyes go wide. He undoes the fastenings of his pants, and a moment later, he frees his cock, stroking it slowly, all while never taking his eyes off her. 

He is big, and Chloe can't keep her mind from imagining things that go much further than this, no matter how slightly afraid she would be of the exact same thing. As she watches him stroke his cock with languid strokes, Chloe wonders if he would even fit. He is a good bit taller than her, after all, she barely reaches up to his chest. Broader, too, but a part of her is burning with need and curiosity, wanting to touch him and have him touch her in return. Her fingers twitch against her, sending more strands of desire through her body when his free hand suddenly brushes against her cheek. He lingers only briefly before he slides it into her hair, grabbing a handful of it and twisting slightly to tilt her head.

"Open your mouth," he demands with a low rumble in his voice, and she cannot help but follow his command.

She opens wide as he speeds up, and with a couple of quick strokes, he suddenly stills. A deep groan leaves his lips, and hot spurts of his release fill her mouth, a few droplets landing on her face. She holds perfectly still in his grasp until the reality of the situation hits her and sends a bolt of arousal through her body. Her hand rubs furiously against herself, and she comes nearly without warning. Pleasure floods her and makes her shudder in his hold, all while tasting him on her tongue. The fact that they are so close to other people is nearly forgotten as an open-mouthed moan falls from her lips.

"Swallow!" he tells her right after, and once more, she follows his command before even thinking about it, and when she does, a satisfied smirk is her reward.

That, and his hand loosens in her hair before he runs it along her cheek in a soft caress.

"Good girl."

A full-body shudder runs through her at those words.

Without further ado, Emet-Selch tucks himself back into his clothes, and a second later, he looks immaculate once more, in stark contrast to how she feels herself, still kneeling on the floor with her hand between her legs and traces of his seed on her overheated face. He leans a little closer, his hand still on her cheek, thumb rubbing a drop of liquid over her lower lip.

"You should clean yourself up, my dear," he murmurs softly. "Since you are so concerned about playing a perfect part for your friends."

And with those slightly stinging words that have her cheeks still burning, he simply leaves her where she is as he turns around and walks away.

Chapter Text

For a moment, Chloe doesn't move.

The reality of what just happened slams into her with a vengeance. She is alone in the little alcove, still on the stone floor as her mind races, trying to figure out just how in the world she has ended up right here and in this situation. With a shaky breath, she scrambles to her feet and hastily starts to fix her clothes. Her first instinct is to run back to her room and hide, but she remembers something Emet-Selch said earlier.

The Exarch…

There is no way she is in any shape to talk to anyone right now, and Chloe carefully peers around the side of the curtain. When she sees no familiar faces in the near vicinity, she hurries back through the markets and outside towards the one place in the Crystarium that never fails to be a comfort to her - the gardens.

They know her here. She helps out whenever she can, and the two people that are around taking care of some of the patches only nod friendly at her and pay her no further mind.

At the far end of the garden, Chloe grabs a pair of gloves and sheers and simply gets to work. There is always something to do when taking care of vegetables and herbs and everything that is growing here for the people of this town. Her tomato plants are growing well, and she smiles a little to herself when thinking of them as 'hers.' They are not, of course. They belong to everyone. She planted them shortly after her arrival here when she had too much free time on her hands, and Chloe has been taking care of them ever since. So in a way, she thinks it's alright to think of them this way. Their yield will ultimately be for everyone, but in the meantime, they are hers to care for, hers to have an eye on.

And a wonderful distraction from everything else going on in her life. From Emet-Selch and his eyes that seem to follow her every move and, at the same time, draw her into something she doesn't fully understand. From the light slowly surging through her body, letting her know something isn't quite right, all while everyone around her is adamant she is fine. And from the growing uncertainty about practically everything in her life that makes her question far too many things. 

Chloe has always been an anxious person, prone to worrying too much about far too unimportant things. Something she usually combats by working hard and relentlessly. Taking care of everybody's problems, solving every single issue, may it be minor or not, always seemed like a good way to quell the lingering feeling of maybe not quite being worth someone's time or never being enough on her own.

"Idle hands do nothing good."

Words her mother had given her as a guide so many years ago, and they still hold true. If she is doing nothing, she is not helping anybody. Time spent on frivolous things that benefit no one but herself is time lost she could have used to help more. As she works through the tomato patch, re-tying some of the plants that have grown too large for the support they have, she can't help but scold herself for what she has been doing. There is a world that needs saving and people all around her hanging on by a thread and hope alone - and Chloe is busy trying to find out what food she might like or, worse, spend her time with someone who she should stay away from at any cost. 

She clenches her eyes shut for a moment, trying to push down the many inconvenient feeling only thinking about Emet-Selch stirs in her. It isn't right. Her talk earlier with Thancred reminded her of that in all clarity. And yet, mere moments later, she had thrown herself into her own selfish desire. 

With a deep breath, she kneels on the side of the garden patch and takes stock of the things to do. There are weeds again, regrown from the last time she plucked them, and Chloe can't help but think back about the talk she had that day with Emet-Selch. How he had compared them, her , to those weeds. They keep the plants one really wants to grow from thriving, after all, so Chloe knows of the necessity to remove them. And the Ascian freely admitted to seeing them just like that - so what in the world is she even doing with him?

Had he been right? A few almost civil conversations, and she has let her guard down?

There is something thoroughly unsettling about the thought that he disregards mortal life this much and makes no secret of it, and yet somehow Chloe still feels drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She is at a loss of what to do, of where to go from here. Her own garden patch feels almost as if it is mocking her with its next task, and with a deep sigh, Chloe leans forward and starts teaing out the weeds. They need to go; there is no way around that. And in the back of her mind, she wonders if this is what he will do to her the moment she is truly in his way. Or the moment he realizes she is no more compelling or interesting than the dead plants he holds in her hands. He is bound to notice that she is anything but special at any moment, after all. Not that it should matter, she reminds herself. She should be the one to stay away from him. It's the only right thing to do.

When she finally returns to her room much later, no one is waiting for her. Chloe can only assume that whatever the Exarch had wanted can wait until tomorrow, and he has given up waiting. She feels a little bad for avoiding him, but he hasn't sent word to her about wanting to speak. All she has to go on is Emet-Selch's remark from earlier, so she decides to simply wait and see.

The next day has her restless when being called to the Ocular. The others are there too, and as it turns out, their next departure is already imminent. A nearby forest, another lightwarden - Chloe listens quietly as plans are being made around her. Her heart makes a little happy jump at the thought of finally reuniting with Y'shtola, the only one still missing from their group.

When their plans are finalized, and everyone leaves to prepare for their departure, the Exarch quietly asks her to stay behind. 

"I am a little worried about you, my friend," he says, and even though he sounds calm, something about it has all of Chloe's anxiety spike up.

"No need to; I am doing fine."

The answer comes as easily to her as breathing does, and it is as practiced as well. But something about it is different today. It doesn't have the usual effect of making someone smile in relief and wishing her a good day. No, instead, the Exarch sighs and looks away for a moment, as if he is gathering his thoughts before he takes a step closer.

"A short while ago, I sensed an Ascian presence in your vicinity, and then a magical disturbance went up, completely shrouding you, and I was just… concerned. Are you truly alright?" he asks, and even though his voice sounds perfectly friendly, Chloe's heart sinks.

She also clearly remembers a comment from Emet-Selch. Her eyes are glued to the floor as she reaches for all her courage.

"Are you watching me?" Chloe asks quietly. "Like, all the time?"

The Exarch seems almost taken aback.

"No, that's not what I…" he starts, and she doesn't think she has ever seen him be quite so defensive. He calms himself almost immediately. "Chloe, I am only trying to keep you safe."

Of course. That's what everyone wants, after all, isn't it? But somehow, this doesn't feel caring and gentle to her, and Chloe isn't sure if that is because he has actually crossed a line or if it is because she feels somewhat guilty about sneaking around her friends.

He isn't one of them, though. She doesn't know this man, and while he has been perfectly polite since she got here, he is also the one that has dragged all of them through the rift and onto a world on the brink of destruction. A world they cannot leave. Her friends by his botched magic and Chloe by obligation.

"I don't need anyone's help," she says, and while her voice is still quiet, it is much firmer than before.

"I was only concerned because you looked tired and a bit unsettled, so I thought I should look after you, nothing more," he assures her, but when the Exarch takes another step closer and reaches out, Chloe sways back. 

"I don't need a nursemaid checking if I go to sleep on time. I am an adult, and I can take care of myself," she points out, sounding a bit harsher. She gnashes her teeth for a second before she adds, "And who I talk to in my free time is no one's business." 

There is something thoroughly unsettling about the thought of someone else keeping tabs on her. She is used to the Scions looking out for her, and even if it sometimes feels a little stifling, she has known all of them for many years and knows they do so out of concern. With the Exarch, it feels different. He is a stranger and someone she still isn't sure she can trust. Not with him bringing her here to a place that does nothing but horrify her day after day. And all while he clearly keeps secrets, unwilling to even show her his face.

He looks like he is about to apologize or appeal to her more reasonable side, and frustration wells up in her at the thought that he will be successful. That she won't have a choice but to smile politely and thank him for his concern if he keeps being kind and makes it all sound so reasonable. It's almost ridiculous, Chlore realizes, that she has an easier time snapping and being angry at Emet-Selch simply because he doesn't bother being nice in the first place. So she settles for the only compromise she can think of.

"I certainly don't need someone watching my every step," she points out again before she gathers all her courage. "Excuse me, I have to leave."

With her hands clenched, she turns and walks out of the Ocular, not giving the Exarch another chance to say something else. It is the only thing she seems capable of right now. She doesn't want to be talked out of what she's feeling, but neither does she trust herself not to be easily swayed. Not when part of her is already busy telling herself she is being silly.

On her way back to her room, she remembers Emet-Selch telling her that she doesn't know the Exarch as well as she thinks, and Chloe lets out a humorless laugh. She doesn't know him at all if she is honest. And yet, she has been inclined to trust him and follow up on everything he has told her. So does everyone else in her group of friends, it seems, and for the first time, Chloe can't stop herself from asking why.

Somehow she isn't even surprised to find Emet-Selch waiting for her once again in her room, looking far too self-satisfied to give her the impression he is here by mere coincidence. He leans against the wall next to the large window, the perfect spot to watch the people outside and to have an eye on her door at the same time. When she barely even acknowledges him and closes the door behind her without so much as a hello, his eyebrows rise.

"Trouble in paradise?"

The slight smirk on his face betrays the question. Chloe is certain he already knows everything about her rather undignified retreat from the Ocular. Somehow the fact that Emet-Selch is definitely clearly watching her even when he isn't present is far less unsettling than the thought that the Exarch might be. Maybe because he has been completely open about this fact from the start, Chloe thinks. Or maybe, it's because this is something she would expect from someone who is her enemy, but certainly not from someone who claims to be her friend and wants her to trust him. Emet-Selch has asked her for other things, but never for her trust.

"Did you know the entire time he was spying on me?" she asks without bothering to explain context, and when Emet-Selch doesn't look surprised at all and merely shrugs, her suspicions are confirmed.

"I've felt him snooping around, yes," he says like he doesn't have a care in the world about it. And perhaps that is true.

"And you didn't think it would be something worth telling me directly?"

She surprises herself a little with how clear and not at all hesitant her voice is. Emet-Selch simply looks at her for a moment, clearly in thought, before the corner of his mouth turns up in a lazy smile.

"You don't mind being watched when it's by me," he points out as he pushes himself off the wall and walks towards her.

"That's different," Chloe insists, though she doesn't want to elaborate, knowing full well that whatever thought of hers she explains, he will find a way to twist it and turn it into something to mock her for. Though right at this moment, there is a far more pressing concern on her mind, and she lets out a helpless sigh. "I think he knows…"

She doesn't need to say more, it is clear as day what she is referring to, but Emet-Selch seems unbothered as he comes to a halt in front of her, and Chloe leans into his touch as the familiar sensation of his glove runs over her cheek.

"You need to learn how to care less, my dear."

Chloe snorts.

"Like you do?"

"Precisely."

His smile widens, but something about it holds her attention. It doesn't match his eyes.

"I don't believe you," Chloe murmurs, following a vague hunch, and to her surprise, Emet-Selch looks genuinely thrown off for a moment and frowns.

"You don't act like someone who doesn't care at all," she goes on, wondering how in the world she manages to keep her voice calm when everything in her is nearly shaking with uncertainty. "I think you just hide it better."

"Are you back to trying to pretend you understand anything about me?"

Emet-Selch's voice is a good bit colder again, and it has an immediate effect on her. Just like the last time he had scolded her for making assumptions about him, it sends a shiver of fear through her, powerful enough that Chloe feels the urge to take a step back. But there is something else as well, a small sliver of understanding blooming in her.

"What are you going to do?" she asks, and even though she is shaking, she forces herself to look him in the eyes. "Scare me again to teach me a lesson and distract me from the fact that I am right about this?"

"Look at all this confidence," he says with a click of his tongue before his voice turns scathing. "If only you had that when it truly mattered."

"This matters. To me at least," Chloe insists, but her throat runs dry when she realizes that the look in his eyes has changed. "Stop looking at me like that," she adds, but this time her voice isn't confident anymore; it is barely more than a whisper.

"Like what, my dear?"

Emet-Selch looks like he wants to devour her, a sardonic smile on his face as he reaches for her.

"Like you want to…" she starts, before the touch of his hand wandering down her neck and grazing over her collarbones makes her trail off.

"Oh, I want to," he admits freely, a glint of promise in his eyes. "Many different things, actually. This mix of righteous anger and embarrassment is a very good look on you."

Chloe splutters helplessly.

"You think I'm attractive when I'm angry?"

Her voice is full of disbelief when he pushes her chin up with two fingers.

"I think you are delicious when you say things you actually want to say."

Emet-Selch's voice is a bit deeper now, and slowly he starts to move, stepping around her while his fingers trail over her neck teasingly light. Within seconds she is burning with the need to have him touch her further. Whatever this thing is that has been happening between them, it has slowly been escalating, each time growing into something more. Something both more intriguing and more worrisome. It is one thing to excuse her enemy spying on her; it is a wholly different one to try and make sense of why she keeps coming back to him and wants him to do a lot more than just watch.

When Emet-Selch pulls her back against him, his hands cup her breasts through her clothes and squeeze as he holds her firmly against his chest.

"You are so tense, my dear," he murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. "You want so much more. All you have to do is ask me for it."

A shudder runs through her at his promised-filled voice getting under her skin. He is right. She wants more of this, more of him, desperately so. But somehow, there is an invisible line she can't cross, not without feeling like she is doing something terrible, like betraying the people who count on her.

Despite her doubts, she can't keep herself from grinding back against him. Emet-Selch is so close, his touch so very tempting that when he pinches the tips of her breasts through her clothes, she lets out a shameless moan.

With a low growl, he grabs her shoulders and spins her around, and a moment later, his hand is under her skirt. Fingers slip beneath the hem of her underwear, lightly pulling. Chloe's hands clasp tightly around the fur trimmings of his coat, holding on to him almost desperately.

"Ask me for what you want," he demands, and for a brief moment, Chloe has trouble not following his lead. She is so used to always doing as she is told that what he wants to hear almost slips freely from her lips, but she manages to bite her own tongue and keep her mouth shut at the last second. 

"I can't," she gets out with clenched teeth, and she is definitely not imagining the way his eyes brim with challenge just before he holds her tighter. 

Emet-Selch's hand twists into the fabric of her panties, and with one painfully sharp move, he rips them off her. The fabric digs into her skin before it tears apart, leaving behind a stinging pain, and Chloe lets out a shocked gasp as she flinches in his arms. A gasp that turns into a surprised squeak when his hand comes down hard on her ass. She shouldn't feel anything positive about this, not when he hurts her, but some part of her definitely doesn't mind. That part almost wishes he would do it again, and when she looks up at him, a knowing look is on Emet-Selch's face. His lips curl slowly into a mocking smile.

"Would you look at that," he says in a low voice, squeezing her ass and pushing her firmly against him. His eyes never leave hers, and with his smile widening, he lifts his hand and does it again. Harder. Her whole body feels hot as something about this nearly shakes her to her core. It takes Chloe all she has to not moan loudly at the sensation. A moment later, his hand is between her legs, fingers teasingly touching her.

"I could take you so easily like this, and you would enjoy every second of it," he growls at her, and as if to prove his point, he lets a single finger slide through her folds, finding her dripping wet and unable to stop herself from grinding slightly against his hand. "Maybe right here against the wall, just to see how much it takes to make your legs give out." Emet-Selch leans in even further until she can feel his lips against the shell of her ear. "I am guessing not much by how embarrassingly wet you are. So why don't you do us both a favor and tell me what you want? "

Chloe is burning. Every single word he speaks falls on fertile ground, and she wants nothing more than to do and say whatever he wants from her if she can only get all he just promised in return. But at the same time, part of her just knows .

Knows that if she does this now, she will never again be able to be the person she tried so hard to be for the last few years of her life. 

The shining hero who tries her best to never do anything wrong. It's an ideal she never felt she could quite live up to. But neither can she simply take a hammer to it and shatter it to pieces. Not when others need her to keep going. Need her to pretend if she has to. She will never be perfect, but she has to try. Too many are depending on her to save whole worlds for them.

"I can't," she repeats with a voice so quiet it is barely there. Her entire body protests, but Chloe lets go of his coat and pushes against his chest. At the first sign of resistance, his hands fall away from her, and Emet-Selch takes a step back. 

"You will come to me, yearning for my touch ere long, make no mistake," he tells her, and his voice is brimming with promise. "And when that moment comes, I will enjoy making you beg me for it."

He snaps his fingers, and magic condenses around him. Like it forms a thin, purple-shimmering mist, and with a casual wave of his hand, the magic surges towards her. Chloe winces as it hits her, but to her surprise, she doesn't feel a thing. All that happens is that she can see it seep into her skin, and then it is gone. When she looks up at him with a question in her eyes, he looks strangely and unsettlingly amused.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear, just a little parting gift."

He sounds almost gleeful at that, and an uneasy feeling settles in her stomach, but before Chloe can gather her wits and demand an explanation, Emet-Selch has already opened a portal, and a second later, she's alone in her room. There is no sign that he was ever here in the first place, except for the torn piece of her underwear lying on the floor and the eerie feeling that she just might have made a terrible mistake.

Chapter Text

"Nothing to worry about, my dear, just a little parting gift."

Emet-Selch's parting words hover permanently at the back of her mind. After he leaves, Chloe does her best to distract herself from her own overly complicated feelings, spending the rest of the day in the gardens, helping out wherever she can. No matter how menial the task, it suits her just fone for as long as it keeps her busy. It doesn't fully manage to keep her wandering mind at bay, but it certainly beats sitting around and letting all those thoughts overwhelm her.

Lying in bed at night, though, is a wholly different matter. When she closes her eyes, she can't help but replay the events of the day over and over. Her uncomfortable talk with the Exarch would have kept her up and agonizing about it on any other day alone, but tonight it gets overshadowed by what came after. Chloe had felt strangely cornered by the way Emet-Selch had insisted on some things. He has something about him that unsettles her as much as it fascinates her. Emet-Selch is the enemy, the last person she should voluntarily talk to, but somehow, over the last few weeks, he has also become the most interesting and exciting person around her. Which is a mystery to her in itself.

Chloe had never before had any interest in things that were clearly dangerous. She isn't a risk-taker, isn't bold in her life choices, and has never been particularly brave either. Which leads her again and again to the question of what in the seven hells she is doing now. She doesn't feel any more daring than usual nor more willing to take risks, leaving behind the sobering realization that what she is doing is plain stupidity on her part. It's the only thing that explains her irrational behavior, she thinks. It's not very flattering, of course, but it feels true nonetheless. Whenever she is around Emet-Selch, she finds herself being reckless to an alarming degree with no other reasonable explanation.

It had been unbelievably hard to not simply give in to his games earlier that day. And that's what his taunts and challenges are, of that she is certain - games. He must be playing with her for some reason. Why else would he bother to spend any time around her in the first place? And still, in between all these things she deems as facts, there are brief moments where she is unbelievably tempted to ignore all of it. Moments where she wants to ignore the fact that he is playing her and simply take what he offers. His insistent meddling has awakened something in her that Chloe is dying to explore, and maybe if she were a little less hung up on things, she could do so without much ado. If she had an easier time not caring what other people think of her, then perhaps she could allow herself the one or other clearly lousy decision. And if she could maybe think of this as a game with no actual emotional investment like he most likely does, then she could give herself permission to simply enjoy it as it is. 

But Chloe knows herself only all too well. She would never be able to do that. She would never admit it to a living soul, of course, but even now, she knows she is way more invested in her little talks with this Ascian than she should be. There have been moments where she has caught herself wanting to talk to him more about a variety of things. Moments where she has found herself pleased to see him, and others where she had looked forward to doing so again. And just now, the mere memory of his eyes burning into her when he had touched her so intimately has her skin flushed, and her stomach leap in excitement. With her hands covering her face, Chloe sighs and almost completely disappears under her blanket. 

She wants him.

There is nothing she can rationalize in her head that makes this less true. He is probably the most dangerous enemy she has ever been faced with, and she wants him all the same, wants every single thing he offers. Even the ones she really shouldn't. Her face feels hot as she remembers his hand on her ass and between her legs. He had hit her, and her first, embarrassing thought had been 'more!' And the worst thing is that he knows. Chloe hadn't been able to hide her own neediness even a little. From the beginning, he had been able to read her exceptionally well, and his assurance that she would inevitably come to him felt almost a little like a threat.

Despite knowing all this, she can't help it when even just thinking back to earlier that day has her undeniably aroused. When she remembers how it had felt to be held so closely by him, a shiver runs down her spine, and the memory of his voice right at her ear sends a wave of heat through her body. Biting her lips, Chloe presses her eyes shut as she lets her hand trail down her stomach. The last time she had done this quietly in her room, she had found out that he had been watching. The possibility is still there, but somehow that is not a deterrent at all. Quite the opposite, the mere idea that he might still be watching, even after all this, makes her body grow hotter.

Her breath goes faster, and Chloe sighs quietly as her fingers find their goal at the apex of her thighs. Her mind has been on edge since he had left her alone earlier, and her body is quick to follow. Her own touch is direct and to the point. She doesn't want to draw this out. All she yearns for right now is a quick release, some relief from the tension that has been running through her all day, and it doesn't take her long to feel like she's about to topple over the edge. She bites into her blanket as her hand speeds up, ready to stifle her moans - but the anticipated pleasure doesn't come, no matter how much or fast she moves. With a small groan, Chloe tries a slightly different touch and then another, but it's of no use. She knows she is right there, terribly close and yet somehow unable to finish. 

Sighing in frustration, Chloe turns around on her stomach, burying her head into her pillow before her hand is back between her legs, trying again.

It seems utterly futile.

Chloe thinks she hears a faint chuckle in the distance and something cold runs down her back as she remembers the magic he has left her with. 

Her first thought is that it is ridiculous. Surely he wouldn't go so far as to... and by magical means to boot.

Only she has an almost eery sense of certainty that he absolutely would, and worse, he is probably watching her right now, terribly amused about her predicament. With a frustrated sigh, she takes her hand out from between her thighs and presses her legs together. It doesn't alleviate her tension at all, and Chloe feels close to swearing in frustration, but at the same time, she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her humiliated like that even further. Angrily she closes her eyes and tries to will her desire back down so she can go to sleep.

Sleep doesn't come easy with how worked up she is, but eventually, she succumbs to it. It isn't as relaxing as it should be, and when she has to get up in the morning, Chloe isn't nearly as rested as she would want to be. She does her best not to be unusually irritable on their trip to the Greatwood, not when she can't really explain what has her in this particular mood. When Emet-Selch shows up to accompany them, he doesn't say anything specifically to her, but she can see in the way he looks at her with an almost devious grin whenever no one else pays attention that he knows perfectly well what has her in a mood. And he doesn't seem to be even the slightest bit sorry about it. 

He plays his part well, she realizes after a short while. His presence and his barbed remarks have everyone slightly unsettled, trying their best to find out why he is here. It makes her own twitchiness around him seem entirely natural. When he talks to her, though, Chloe has to bite her own tongue to not talk back in an overly friendly manner. In the times they have spoken alone, she has gotten somewhat used to simply saying what she thinks around him. Having him around her and her friends at the same time makes it painfully obvious how many things she would like to say that ultimately never cross her lips simply from knowing there are more eyes on her. It's almost a relief when he claims boredom at some point and leaves them to fend for themselves.

Her reunion with Y'shtola doesn't go at all as Chloe had expected it would. The fact that the other woman, with whom she has spent years both living and fighting together, doesn't even recognize her at first hurts her more than she lets people see. Y'shtola had never been the easiest person to get to know, but even after the first misunderstanding is cleared up, something feels different. When they sit together around a fire that evening, everyone catching up with each other, the things the other woman tells her drive home that it has been years for her. It had been the case for Thancred, too, of course, but while he has certainly changed in some regards, he largely remains the same when interacting with her. Y'shtola, meanwhile, almost feels like a different person to Chloe in some moments. And then there are those instances where she just seems to have a faraway look, and Chloe can only suspect she's looking at her aether. From the slight frown on her face, she does not like what she sees at all, but she makes no further comment on it. 

Y'shtola had thought her to be a Sin Eater, a thought that doesn't leave Chloe alone and opens up a pit of worry in her stomach as she thinks about her friend's particular way of seeing the world and what this misconception might mean for her. It can't mean anything good, Chloe is certain of at least this much. Why she doesn't understand is how this so grave-seeming thing gets easily brushed aside after an assurance from Urianger. When she tries to carefully broach the topic again, Y'shtola launches into another story about the Night's Blessed instead. It's subtle but noticeable enough that Chloe knows the other woman doesn't want to talk about the issue right now, and from how eagerly everyone listens and asks questions about her story, neither does anyone else.

When Chloe excuses herself to get some quiet as the evening gets late, she is glad that everyone is still animatedly talking and no one seems inclined to follow her. Her feet carry her back to the cave where the Night's Blessed held their vigil for the dead. It's dark and quiet in here, the eternal light not reaching the back of the cave at all. The only light source comes from a few candles still burning.

"So you just arrive, a stranger to them, and the first thing they do is make you attend a funeral. That's some hospitality."

Somehow, the fact that Emet-Selch finds her the minute she is alone isn't even surprising her anymore. 

"It was interesting to watch," Chloe replies, and she means it too. She had felt strangely honored to be able to witness something clearly so important to these people. "Their rites were very beautiful."

He comes to stand slightly behind her, and Chloe can feel how close he is as he speaks again.

"Souls and memories, their hopes and dreams preserved in a simple stone - what a curious notion," he murmurs, and Chloe turns around with a raised brow.

"There is no reason to mock them for a belief that gives them comfort," she says, a little bit more heated than she intended, but to her surprise, Emet-Selch looks almost taken aback.

"It was not my intent to mock any of this, my dear," he says with a shrug. "They are hardly the only ones adhering to such practices. When you've been around for eons, you tend to see some things show up over and over again."

He sounds almost a little bit wistful at that. Before she can answer, though, he seems to push whatever he's feeling right now to the side as he steps closer, and the look in his eyes changes as they blatantly run over her.

"Mistaking you for a Sin Eater, now that is a friendship faux-pas if I've ever seen one." 

Chloe winces slightly at the reminder. He sounds incredibly patronizing, but she doesn't even care all that much when she finally senses a chance to talk about this.

"It has to do with my aether, right?" she asks quietly, looking at Emet-Selch with a frown. "All that light I absorbed from the Wardens so far is doing something to me, isn't it?"

"I think you know the answer to that, my dear," Emet-Selch replies.

Chloe's jaw tenses, and her hands ball into fists for a moment at this clear confirmation of her worries. Briefly, she thinks back to her attempt to talk to the Exarch about this when the concern came up the first time. He had not wanted to talk about this either back then, and she can't help but wonder how much he knows about this. He is much more familiar with everything concerning the light and the Sin Eaters, after all. She almost wants to ask Emet-Selch just what this might mean for her, but it's not like she can't guess. She has seen what the light and killing Sin Eaters does to everyone else, after all.

"I am not magically immune to the aether's influence," she finally says with a tired sigh. 

"No, you are not," Emet-Selch confirms, and somehow his plain answer almost makes her laugh.

A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have believed a single thing an Ascian would have told her, and yet somehow, she is completely certain he speaks the truth about this. She can feel the light inside her, after all.

"Have you ever considered not killing yourself for someone else's benefit?"

Emet-Selch's question hovers in the air with how both genuinely curious and strangely cutting it sounds.

The way he looks at her throws Chloe off. His eyes seem almost soft for a moment, searching as if he is looking for something specific. Not knowing what else to do, she turns away from him again, watching the almost burnt down candles flicker to keep herself centered. 

"As if that would be an option," she murmurs more to herself than to him. A moment later, she realizes that turning her back on Emet-Selch might have been a mistake when his hand comes to rest on her lower back. She thinks she can feel the heat of his touch through several layers of clothes. It seems to spread over her back, scorching and… 

Chloe bites down harshly on her lips to keep herself from moaning as a wave of pure arousal spreads through her.

"What are you doing?" she hisses at him under her breath, and when she glances over her shoulder, Emet-Selch gives her an amused look.

"Far be it from me to keep you from wallowing in self-pity, but I thought a reminder of some of the things you want so desperately was in order, my dear."

He doesn't do anything else, but his hand stays where it is, and Chloe's knees nearly give out under the intense feeling of need that fills her entire body. It does the trick, to a degree. Her thoughts about the light and her strangely silent friends are pushed away for the moment. Everything that had left her so on edge the day is back on her mind, together with the frustration she had felt later that night.

"Your parting gift," she murmurs. "You did something to me."

"Of course I did," Emet-Selch answers, his voice brimming with amusement. "And I have to say, watching you struggle was highly amusing so far. As is this."

Another wave of heat runs through her, and by now, Chloe is sure it's not just her own reaction but that he is actively doing something to her. Probably through the aether he had left with her.

"So what, I don't give you what you want, so in return, you make me unable to..." she trails off as she fights the urge to lean into his touch.

"You can not even say the words," he points out with another chuckle, leaning closer, and Chloe nearly whimpers from simply feeling him at her back. "No one pays attention to you right now, you could simply tell me what you want, and I could help you out right here," Emet-Selch whispers against her ear. He slowly lets his fingers trail over the buttons of her shirt while his other hand settles on her hips with a surprisingly harsh touch. "Of course, I could always decide to simply take what I want instead, without your approval," he adds, and his grip on her hips hardens.

A sliver of fear runs through her at his words. He is right, of course. This has been the case from the very beginning. Emet-Selch is stronger than her both in terms of magic as well as physically. She could try to fight him, but ultimately, she would be powerless to stop him if he decided to no longer be interested in the games he's played with her so far. And yet, for no logical reason, she feels he wouldn't. Not when it comes to this.

"Sometimes you are helpful and kind of nice and other times it's like you want me to be afraid of you," she says quietly enough it is almost a whisper before she turns her head to glance at him over her shoulder. "Why?"

Emet-Selch gives her a thoughtful look before he loosens his bruising grasp and turns her around again. Two gloved fingers are under her chin, lifting her head as he lets his thumb brush over her cheek.

"Maybe I just can't quite decide which version of you I like better, my dear." His voice is incredibly soft as his other arm comes around her waist, holding her close against him as he asks, "Are you afraid of me right now?" When Chloe gives him the slightest nod, his smile widens. "Good," he murmurs with a low growl. "It's intoxicating."

She doesn't know if it's his words or his touches that make her gasp, but despite the things he says, she sways even closer. 

"So what is this then?" Chloe manages to get out, her voice scratchy from nervousness. "Do you simply get off on my fear?"

"It's not the fear, my dear," he says slowly, and he lets go of her chin to trail along her collarbone instead as he adds with a knowing look, "It's the fact that you are scared out of your mind, and you still want me."

All sound dies on her lips as Chloe blushes furiously, unsure where to look for a moment, but Emet-Selch doesn't give her the chance to find her bearings before he makes her face him again, this time with his fingers wrapping around her throat. 

"You tend to avoid things you are afraid of," he says with only the slightest bit of pressure behind his touch. Enough to keep her on high alert, but not enough to hurt her in any way. Yet. "You run away and hide, let others deal with it. But not with me. You are terrified of what I might do to you, and yet you want to seek me out."

The dim light from the candles in the almost entirely dark cave makes him look almost sinister for a moment, driving home just how right he is about her being terrified. And yet, he is right about the rest too. Chloe has never voluntarily sought out any risk - except for him. And now she is alone in the near-dark with him with his hands around her throat, squeezing just enough to let her know he could do much worse, and she doesn't even try to get out of his grasp. All Chloe can do is stare at his lips, knowing that every word that falls from them is true.

"I…" she starts helplessly before she swallows heavily, uncertain what she could even say to this. In the distance, from outside the cave, she can hear the faint noises of people getting ready to turn in for the night, and by the way Emet-Selch listens with a raised brow, he is aware of it too. A second later, he is suddenly close enough so his lips almost brush over hers.

"Tell me what you want, Chloe," he murmurs, and she shudders from the way he licks his lips after saying her name. She can't remember him ever calling her by her name before, and it only makes the heat in her stomach burn brighter. His other hand trails down between her legs, teasing her through her clothes with the lightest of touches. "I won't overstay my welcome for now, but I will gladly leave you with something to think about tonight when you're all alone and oh so frustrated in your bed."

His touch turns just a little bit firmer, but her small moan gets cut off by the hand around her throat tightening as well as his lips running over hers, and for a second, Chloe thinks he is about to kiss her. But instead, he takes her lower lip between his teeth and bites down, the pressure around her throat making sure she is perfectly quiet even if her eyes widen in shock.

"Sweet dreams, my dear," he whispers as he lets go, leaving her standing there gasping and with slightly unsteady legs. Emet-Selch gives her a knowing look and a wave of his hand before he simply disappears into the shadows again.

Chapter Text

The night is as frustrating as Emet-Selch had probably intended it to be. The only upside is the fact that Chloe is sharing a room with several people, which means she is not even tempted to try and make things worse for herself. It doesn't quell the straight-up need he has stoked in her earlier, though, and with gritted teeth, she has to make due and get through another night worked up like this with no release in sight. Again, the night is not as restful as it should be, and Chloe spends most of her day yawning. She catches Y'shtola looking at her with that same lost-in-though look several times, but when she tries to ask her about it, the other woman just brushes it aside and changes the topic again.

Frustration wells up in Chloe, and for the first time ever, she actually feels the genuine need to say something. Perhaps not while they are out and about trying to solve problems, but she starts making a plan on how to bring the topic of her aether back up in the evening, perhaps after dinner, together with a couple of questions that will hopefully help her push through and not get dismissed. Part of Chloe also wonders if Y'shtola can see whatever Emet-Selch had done with his aether. She can't help but ask herself if the other woman realizes anything about it, if that is perhaps the reason she keeps looking at her. And while Chloe can hardly straight up ask her about that, she is curious enough to maybe poke around if the opportunity presents itself.

Only it never does. Not when a fight in an old Ronkan ruin escalates, and Chloe has to stand by, feeling utterly helpless as she watches her friend fall to her death. The next hour after that passes by in a haze, and once again, Chloe is glad that others tend to do the talking for her and that with her reputation of being quiet and withdrawn, no one expects her to lead when they bring back the terrible news. 

Emet-Selch is there, and Chloe can see that everyone is equally surprised at how genuine his condolences actually sound. All through that, she can't quite shake off the feeling that there was something not quite right about Y'shtola's fall, and when she brings it up, they quickly figure out what most likely happened. Not that it helps them at all, her friend is still just as lost. That is until Emet-Selch's voice breaks through her grief as he offers to bring her back. 

For a brief second, Chloe is too stunned to react, but luckily even the more suspicious among the Scions can not let the possibility of saving Y'shtola pass them by. 

There is something uncanny about this situation, Chloe thinks. Emet-Selch is offering his help, and the Scions are of one mind to take it - something she couldn't have imagined even a week ago. As bizarre as it is, the situation doesn't stop him from flirting with her even under the direst circumstances, but for once, Chloe is too distracted to let it get to her. Dimly she thinks that something about the way he is helping doesn't quite make sense to her, but those thoughts can wait until later. She knows the rest of their group doesn't trust him. They all hope, but neither of them is convinced he will actually do what he said he would. Chloe doesn't doubt him for a second, though. She hurries into the woods, aetheric lamp in hand, to fulfill his task as quickly as possible. If she has learned one thing about Emet-Selch by now, it is that he seems to be remarkably honest. If he says he can bring Y'shtola back to them, he will.

And then he does just that, and around them, there is so much commotion that Chloe once again is too distracted to thoroughly think about the aspects that bug her. Those only come back to the forefront of her mind later that evening, when everything has calmed down. While everyone is still chatting over food, she goes in search of a more quiet, more secluded place. She finds it a bit higher up in the trees, far enough away from everyone else so they won't hear her when she calls for him.

Emet-Selch hears her well enough, of course. Chloe assumes he keeps an eye on her at all times, and a part of her knows she should object to that. A part she decides to ignore right now. He is suddenly there, right in front of her, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree as if he has been around here the entire time, waiting for her to show up.

"And what brings the hero right back to seeking me out on this quiet evening?" he greets her, looking her over in a way that makes her feel almost bare in front of him, even though she is fully dressed.

Chloe frowns at his insinuating gaze and the way he speaks so casually as if he hadn't just performed a straight-up miracle for them only hours earlier. For no good reason at all.

"What kind of game are you actually playing with me, with us all?" she finds herself asking directly, skipping any pretense of engaging in his banter or even saying hello. She is almost a bit taken aback by her own courage as she takes a step closer, watching his face for any reaction as she finally finds a way to put into words what has been at the back of her mind ever since he offered his help. He had straight up told the Scions when he had introduced himself that his goals are the same as they always were. Aiding them to this degree doesn't add up. 

"I am eternally grateful that you saved her, but I can't for the life of me figure out why you would do that. And why you felt it necessary to have me jump through hoops for it as well, you can't tell me you didn't instinctively know where the best spot to bring her back was."

Emet-Selch doesn't seem offended at her questions at all. If anything, he looks almost fondly at her for a moment before his smile widens.

"Figured that one out, didn't you?"

At his casual reply, Chloe lets out a huff.

"It seemed very unlikely that you actually needed my help for this," she points out with another frown. "An aetheric lamp to find a specific place rich in aether seems rather useless given that you probably can sense any form of aether way more keenly than such a device could."

Emet-Selch nods in agreement, his eyes brimming with something almost playful as he shrugs.

"So you are telling me you don't actually like being sent on pointless tasks by people that claim that you alone can help them even though they could very well do it themselves?"

His voice remains friendly, and yet his words manage to be strangely cutting, making her take in a sharp breath.

"This was another one of your lessons?"

Her question is full of disbelief as she struggles to figure out if she is merely surprised to hear this or if it actually angers her. Somehow, she isn't sure about that yet.

"A successful one, I'd say," Emet-Selch points out with an air of casualness around him as he gives her a conspiratory look. "And additionally, I freely admit that I very much enjoy watching you jump through hoops for me. Making you do things is very rewarding, I can see why your Scions do it so much."

And again, what he says makes her gasp, and by now, Chloe is no longer unsure about her own feelings - there is definitely a trace of anger there. Anger at his blase demeanor and anger at herself for not knowing what to think about this and finding herself thoroughly thrown off once more. 

"Why would you save her?" she asks, no longer able to keep the question burning on her tongue inside. "It makes no sense. Why help us and make things more difficult for yourself in the process?"

With an amused glance, Emet-Selch shakes his head.

"My dear, do you really think it makes a difference for me how many of your Scions are at your heels?" His brow raises up as he gives out an amused huff. "Do you believe she is that important in the grand scheme of things, that impactful?" 

"If she doesn't matter, then it makes even less sense that you would brother to do anything," Chloe points out. 

It doesn't make sense. It can't make sense. Yet a small part of her keeps wondering. It seems utterly presumptuous to think he could have done it for her, and yet it's a nagging thought at the back of her mind, making her almost a little hopeful.

"Perhaps I simply enjoy messing with your preconceptions, or perhaps you are just a little bit too naive for your own good. To a frustrating degree, if I am honest, my dear."

She flinches a little when he calls her naive. The explanation that he simply likes to mess with her doesn't feel genuine, or at least not like it is the whole story. Chloe can't figure out just why he would be so evasive about this, and a frustrated sigh escapes her lips.

"Why can't you just give me a clear answer for once?"

The answer she gets comes with a frown and a scoff.

"Why? To make things easier for you? I don't think so," Emet-Selch says with much of his earlier amusement now gone. "What is it that you really want to hear, hero?" 

He closes the distance between them, and Chloe has to crane her neck to still look him in the eyes. Something about it feels off like he is deliberately using the height he has on her to appear even more imposing. Not like it would be necessary for someone like him. 

"Do you want me to tell you some nonsense about how I did it for you, out of the goodness of my heart because deep down, under all the years of murder and mayhem, there is a sliver of good in me that just has been waiting for you to see it?"

Chloe winces with how caught out his words make her feel, but he isn't done yet, and his voice is dripping with mockery as he tilts his head and gives her an eerie smile. 

"Do you yearn for me to tell you how lonely I've been and how much I despise what I have to do? How much I lie awake at night, crying, 'If only there was another way?' Or maybe you need me to open up and share a tragic past, would that help you?"

He sounds and feels completely different to her now, and Chloe wonders if this is yet another way he wants to scare and test her or if she is finally seeing the man behind the mask of cooperation, the one who is perhaps running out of patience for her indecision and insecurity.

Emet-Selch's hand slides into her hair, grabbing it at her neck and dragging her close enough so she can feel his coat brush against her clothes. "Oh, you are terribly transparent, my dear, looking so desperately for something that you can use to justify your attraction, something that would make you feel better about how much you yearn for my touch."

Her breath goes faster, and Chloe's heart nearly beats out of her chest as every single one of his words burns with how true it rings. With just a couple of sentences, he has exposed her, dragged to the surface just how pathetic she feels, and when she can't deny any of this, Emet-Selch's eyes narrow.

"Let me be abundantly clear then," he says coldly. "I didn't save her for you, and I certainly don't give a damn about her life. I saved her to get into your Scion's good graces and so that you would feel like you owe me something. Which, from the way you have come running to me right after, seems to have worked perfectly."

Chloe gasps at how utterly void of emotions he sounds, and instinctively, she tries to take a step back, but he keeps her from moving, his grasp on her hair nearly turning painful as he holds her in place.

"I will not provide you with a convenient excuse to make you feel better about yourself," he snarls, and his other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "I am not nice, I am certainly not kind, and you are going to have to learn how to admit to yourself that this is something you want, or you need to become a lot better at lying."

Chloe is completely frozen in place. Half of her is screaming at her to tear herself away and run for her life, while the other half wants to grab his coat and tell him exactly what he wants to hear from her. Emet-Selch is terrifying, he holds powers she cannot even begin to understand, and he has just successfully destroyed any illusion she might have built herself about there being a far gentler soul lying under all that veneer of villainy. And yet, even now, even while being clearly aware that giving in to her impulses would be a far worse decision than she was already aware of, something in her burns with need. 

Emet-Selch doesn't coddle her. He has never even tried to. He doesn't look out for her best interests. He is indeed not kind at all, and yet in his way, he is strangely encouraging. He offers her something and makes it clear that it is on her and her alone whether she will take it or not, but he won't make the decision for her. Emet-Selch wants her to make a clear choice when all that she is used to is following those who know better, who have a clear idea of what's good for her and what isn't. Chloe knows herself, knows that there have been moments where she was so swept up in all of this that he would have had an easy time simply taking what he wanted from her. She wouldn't have resisted, not with all her not-so-secret yearning for the many things he could give her. 

She knows he wants something from her too. Otherwise, he wouldn't be this insistent, and she cannot help but wonder just why someone like him, who is clearly willing to do a great many terrible things, would leave the decision up to someone like her.

"Why do you need me to say what I want?"

The quiet question leaves her lips filled with hesitation, and Emet-Selch's eyes are burning into her as he replies, "Why do you so desperately refuse to have a voice?"

"I think you know ," she says with her breath stuck in her throat. "You seem to know everything I want already, and you could easily just-"

"Could easily do what, my dear? Force you?" His arm around her turns hard, nearly stifling with how close he holds her. His eyes are piercing, taking in every detail, from her bated breath to her slightly shaking hands. "Here you are, playing the hapless hero. Do you even know just how much of this is an act?" he says almost softly before he shakes his head. "You stand here, looking all sweet, innocent, and afraid, and yet part of you would like it if I stopped asking and simply took what I wanted, wouldn't you?"

Chloe wants to shake her head, not trusting her own voice, but he holds her jaw in a firm grip that doesn't let her move.

"Ah, you don't want to start lying to me now, do you dear?" Emet-Selch murmurs, his breath hot against her face as his eyes fall onto her trembling lips. "It would make things so easy for you, wouldn't it? No more of that pesky conscience if you never have to make a choice." His hold turns gentler as he twists his hand and cups her cheek instead. "Tell me, have you imagined this before? Have you thought about me simply overwhelming you and taking what I want? Perhaps at night, in your bed and in secret?"

Chloe can't speak. Even though his questions burn through her, she finds herself unable to make even a single sound, but it doesn't seem to matter. From the way, Emet-Selch's eyes gleam, he can see the answer on her face clear as day.

"Oh, what would your Scions say if they knew what their valiant hero longs for, hm?" he says with a low hum. His fingers slowly trail down her throat before wrapping around it. It's neither rough nor painful, but the feeling is notable enough to make her swallow heavily. "What do I do in these dreams of yours? Do I hold you down? Bind you?" His voice drops lower as he flexes his fingers around her neck with a smirk on his lips. "You think they would be outraged to see their hero put on a leash?" 

Her eyes widen at the thought, especially when it is both terrifying and sends a bolt of arousal through her at the same time. 

Emet-Selch's eyes narrow, and his smile turns almost cruel as he adds, "Or maybe they would just be angry about someone else getting to hold it. Gods know you let them yank you around like you're their trained pet already."

By now, she is panting, half from how uncomfortably hot his words make her feel and half from pure anxiety about how devastating some of the things he says sound. And again, Chloe can't help but think she must be the stupidest person alive when even through all this, she finds herself staring at his lips.

Wanting.

She has always tried to be good. To be the best she can be with her limited knowledge and her mostly unimpressive skills. Every hour of every day, Chloe has tried to live up to the expectations around her, never feeling quite deserving of the accolades and never feeling good enough compared to what she should be. But what she wants, no, yearns for now, is the opposite of good. And somehow, she cares less about that by the minute, and from the way Emet-Selch's eyes shine with something that could only be described as dangerous, she knows he, too, can see her conviction waning.

"Tell me what you want," he demands once more, his voice sounding terribly inviting, and the longer Chloe stares at him, the more she starts to forget all the excellent reasons she should walk away from this.

"I-" she starts in the most timid way, immediately clenching her lips shut. Somehow, the sound of her own voice is as frightening as the choice she wants to make, but Emet-Selch is insistent.

"Chloe," he murmurs, and like the last time he used her name, it sends a shiver down her back with how terribly intimate he makes it sound. "Tell me!"

She doesn't know just how to put all the things that she wants from him into words. Chloe isn't even sure she knows the right ones for some of the thoughts he has awoken in her. The silly thought that she should have perhaps read more of those embarrassing books runs through her mind. At least then, she would maybe know what to ask for. Though if she is honest, she remembers quite some choice phrases, none of which she could ever imagine herself saying out loud. Except for one, perhaps.

"Please," she murmurs, wishing she could avert her gaze, but he doesn't let her, not even for a second. "I need... I want..." she starts twice, shaking from tension, but the words still won't come. "Please!"

"Please, what?" Emet-Selch asks, his hold merciless. "Tell me!"

"I want," she tries again with a desperate sigh, her throat feeling dry as she stares at him with wide eyes. "A kiss, I want you to kiss me!"

It's by far not the only thing that she wants from him, of course, but it is perhaps the one singular thing she can say out loud without wanting the ground to swallow her up. He is so incredibly close already, and if Chloe had the courage, she knows she could simply fling her arms around him and drag him even closer, finding out just what it would be like to kiss him herself, but she is still frozen in place by a mix of hesitation and fear.

"A kiss?" Emet-Selch asks with a raised brow, and for a second, Chloe prepares herself to be mocked relentlessly for such a simple-minded request, but the scathing words do not come. Instead, Emet-Selch's eyes narrow, and before she knows what is happening, he pushes her back against the tree. Chloe's breath gets stuck in her throat as he takes her face in both hands, tilting her head back and looking at her with a wolfish grin. When he next speaks, it's with a low growl.

"Good enough, for now."

Emet-Selch's eyes are blazing before he moves and his lips clash against hers. And then there is no more room for second thoughts, only the feeling of his hot mouth on hers as the world around them stops.

Chapter Text

Like his entire demeanor, Emet-Selch's lips are demanding. His grip on her hair is just as unrelenting as he tilts her head to move her as he sees fit. She has asked him for this, begged even, and still, the way he touches her now almost feels like he is physically forcing her to surrender. Not that he needs to. The moment he actually touches her, Chloe melts under his hands.

She has never wanted something quite as much in her life before, of that she's absolutely certain. To her surprise, she is no longer frozen, coming alive under his touch, and with a sigh, she instinctively does what she was so afraid of simply doing before. Her arms sneak around his neck, and she drags him closer. A shudder of pure want runs through her, and when he pushes his tongue past her lips, Chloe opens up to him with a low moan.

She had wondered many times just how it would feel like to kiss someone, but it takes on a few seconds for her to know that nothing she could have imagined even comes close. Chloe remembers making fun of Thancred for getting his head turned around by a different person nearly every week for a while, but the longer Emet-Selch kisses her, the more she finally understands why someone might get absolutely stupid for this. 

Chloe certainly is.

Her arms tighten around his neck, her fingers clutching the fur trimming of his coat, unwilling to leave even the possibility of him stopping anytime soon. One of his hands is still in her hair, while the other is on her lower back, holding her tightly against him as he tilts his head and kisses her deeper. All the hungry noises she can make are swallowed up by his mouth, but from the way his fingers tense and tighten against her, she knows he hears them anyway. And through it all, Chloe is perfectly aware of how much she shouldn't be doing this and who exactly it is that makes her feel this way. She knows it only all too well, and she doesn't care even one bit. All that is important is that he doesn't stop.

Chloe doesn't know how much time passes, it feels like a moment and an eternity all wrapped into one, but when he finally starts to draw back, she chases after him, unwilling to let it end. She is wound up enough that she doesn't even care about the noise of pure need she makes when trying to catch his lips again, but this time, Emet-Selch holds her in place.

"You asked for a kiss, my dear, and that's exactly what you get," he says in a low voice, and part of her almost wails in frustration as she realizes he is not going to be lenient on this. Emet-Selch is not yet done playing with her, it seems.

"No, I want more," Chloe manages to say between labored breaths and her fast-beating heart. "I want-"

"Shhh, quiet now," he tells her as he stops her from talking. With a raised eyebrow, he looks down at her. "It will be much more interesting like this."

Chloe doesn't know what like this is supposed to mean, but she can only guess it doesn't mean getting what she wants right now.

"No, I-" she starts to protest, but much like the night before in the funeral cave, he stops her from talking by wrapping his hand around her throat. A gesture that has her trembling in his grasp. At least she can tell herself that it is because of fear if she doesn't think too deeply about this.

"I mostly meant interesting for me, my dear," Emet-Selch says in a low voice. "I get to watch you walk around with this pent-up frustration, all this need with nowhere to go. Let it simmer a bit more." He is still so close that his breath is hot against her skin. And with a devious smile, he closes that last bit of distance and kisses her again. Deep, languidly, and full of intent, all while he doesn't let her move at all. "My dear, you want more so badly I can taste the hunger on you," he murmurs against her lips. "Think about how good it will be when you finally get to let go - I certainly do."

The words serve only to light the fire in her even more, and Chloe moans tonelessly under his touch, torn between wanting to simply grab him and drag him closer again and considering genuinely begging him for more. For a moment, she doesn't even pay any mind to their surroundings anymore, not caring that there are people nearby, when Emet-Selch suddenly stills completely. He tilts his head as if he is listening to something before he rolls his eyes.

"Your presence is desired elsewhere, dear hero," he murmurs, giving her another heated look. "Sweet dreams."

For a brief second, his hand is between her shoulder blades, and like the last time he had almost casually touched her, a wave of energy slams into Chloe, spreading through her entire body. Her mouth opens, and she can barely keep herself from screaming as pure need and desire burns through every part of her body, stronger than ever before. It's like she can almost taste the promised pleasure on her tongue, only it isn't enough, falling just short of perfection and leaving her a shaking mess, overwhelmed by pure need. It makes her legs shake enough so that she sinks to her knees the moment Emet-Selch lets go of her, and Chloe can only dimly hear a snap, followed by the familiar sound of a portal. 

He is leaving, and Chloe is far too overwhelmed by the raging desire in her to even try and stop him.

The next thing she becomes aware of is how her hands are clenched into her clothes, nearly tearing at the fabric as she tries to breathe through the feeling of wanting to touch herself right where she is. It won't bring her any satisfaction or release, of that she is sure by now, and when she hears someone call out her name in the distance, Chloe grits her teeth and slowly gets up from the floor, checking herself over to make sure she is somewhat presentable before she returns to the others. 

She spends the rest of the evening being even more tense than before, enough that it prompts a concerned Thancred to ask her if she is nervous about confronting yet another lightwarden. It's an excuse, but at least it's also somewhat true. The thought of having to fight yet another of those beings and once again taking its light into herself would have had her on edge on a normal day already. It just so happens that there is something else that throws her off even more at the moment.

The night is as restless as the last two, and when they leave the village for the Qitana Ravel, Chloe is almost thankful for the distraction. Somehow, in light of the other things on her mind following her friends into danger and having to try her best to keep a cool head during fights is almost strangely helpful. It's familiar, and no matter how much she dislikes the fighting itself, at least she knows how to deal with this. It's what comes after that manages to bring her right back into a state of confusion.

When they find the paintings and Emet-Selch shows up, Chloe can't help feeling nervous from the moment she notices his presence. 'Let it simmer,' he had said the night before, and every time she looks at him, she knows that it's precisely what is happening. Every glance reminds her of the heat between them stirs a sense of need even in the most inopportune of moments, like in an old, abandoned cave surrounded by most of her friends. 

In a way, it is once again a blessing that no one expects her to talk. Y'shtola and Thancred ask questions and react to his remarks, while Chloe tries her best to look unimpacted by his mere proximity, trying to follow the conversation. And then Emet-Selch tells the most fantastical story she has ever heard, and something in Chloe feels like it's tearing at her heart and soul as she listens. It is enough to finally draw her mind away from the more inappropriate thoughts. From his first few sentences, she has the strange feeling that she knows exactly who he is talking about. When Y'shtola asks him how he knows all this, Chloe almost wants to scoff and answer for him. The look in his eyes, and the way his voice turns genuinely soft, without any of his usual theatrics for a few moments, drives home like nothing else that the story he is telling is a deeply personal one. His story. His people.

She remembers one of their very first conversations and how he had asked her where she would want to go most. Home had been her answer, and back then, Chloe had almost been embarrassed by how simplistic the thought might sound. But now, her heart burns with the knowledge that, in a weirdly twisted way, they seem to have that in common.

'Wouldn't you wish for the same?' he asks, and Chloe almost answers. Without thinking about it, the words lie on her tongue, he lips already parted to speak when she realizes just what she is about to say. A slight shudder runs through her as she bites her lip instead. Emet-Selch's eyes narrow ever so slightly, and for a moment, her heart beats in her throat, wondering if he is going to say something more to her, but then he turns and walks away.

Chloe barely listens when the Scions start talking the moment he disappears. Something about what they found and just learned, wondering how much they can trust his words most likely. But like before, Chloe has a feeling that he isn't lying about any of this. He might be biased, but who wouldn't be in such a situation?

"I'm going to return to the village," Chloe excuses herself with a tired smile. "I think I need some quiet after all this fighting."

Y'shtola's light eyes run over her before the other woman gives her a questioning look.

"How are you feeling? Anything out of the ordinary?" she asks her, and Chloe frowns at how untypically unspecific this question sounds before she shakes her head.

"No, nothing but being a bit tired."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" Thancred chimes in with a slightly worried look, but Chloe shakes her head again.

"No, don't let me keep you from exploring further. With the night sky restored, I shouldn't run into any trouble," she says with a smile. "And I really just need some time to myself."

It's a simple request, but in a way, it's already more than she's ever asked for before. Part of her expects someone to protest and insist she needs an escort, but to her surprise, Thancred simply smiles at her.

"Alright, I guess we'll see you later then, take care."

And with those simple words, he goes back to inspecting the murals, as does everyone else. With her head still brimming with thoughts, Chloe makes her way back out of the cave.

Outside, she is still wondering whether to go back right away or maybe find a more quiet place in the forest so she can think when she realizes she isn't alone. 

"I could have sworn you were about to actually say something interesting, and in front of all your friends," Emet-Selch murmurs, standing suddenly right next to her. "Care to enlighten me what went through your mind that you didn't dare to say out loud, my dear?"

Chloe is almost a little proud of the fact that she manages not to flinch at his sudden presence, followed by a sense of worry about just what it might mean that she seems to get used to his sudden appearances.

"Nothing," she insists immediately, with a careful look towards the entrance of the cave. The Scions told her to go ahead, but there is always a chance that one of them would decide to leave and go back to the Vii's village right after, and the thought of them stumbling over her chatting with him has her right back on edge.

Emet-Selch's eyes follow hers before he gives her a once-over.

"Oh, for the love of..." he murmurs with a shake of his head before he lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, not here then."

A second later, her eyes go wide when he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close against him just before familiar-looking dark energy flares around them. Her squeak of surprise gets cut off mid-sound when he pulls her into one of his portals, and Chloe barely manages to hold on to his arm with a desperate grip before the world around her disappears. 

It's a strange, thoroughly unsettling sensation. Like something pulls at her from all sides while she loses all sense of up and down, where she ends, and the nothingness around her begins. It stretches out forever and is over in the blink of an eye when suddenly everything turns solid again, and the feeling of the steady ground beneath her feet is the most reassuring thing she can think of. That, and Emet-Selch's arm that is still firmly around her.

"Where are we?" Chloe asks as she tries to get her bearings. Somewhere still in Rak'tika, at least, that much she can see from the leaves and from how the dark night sky is... a lot more visible and less obscured all of a sudden. That is when she lowers her eyes and realizes just how high up they are.

"On the very top of the temple ruins of Ronka, a place no one can reach on foot," Emet-Selch explains like it is a complete everyday occurrence. His arm around her waist softens, and when Chloe takes a step away from him to turn around, he lets her.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The question leaves her before she can think any better of it, even though she has a strong feeling she already knows the answer. It only gets confirmed when he gives her an almost patronizing scoff.

"So that no one can overhear our little talk, of course. Now, tell me what really went through your mind down there."

"I don't know what you mean," Chloe murmurs, and the look she gets is scathing enough to send a shiver down her spine. She can't just come out with her thoughts, not about something like this, and certainly no when she doesn't even know what to think of her own almost instinctive reaction, but when she looks up at him, there is something in his eyes. Behind his insistence and the demanding behavior, she thinks she can see some genuine curiosity, and Chloe lets out a defeated sigh. "Look, what do you want me to say?"

At her evasiveness, Emet-Selch steps closer. His hand cups her cheek, and quite different from the last times he has touched her, this feels surprisingly gentle.

"You... actually have honest sympathy for me," he says with a hint of genuine surprise in his voice. When Chloe's breath hitches and she is unable to deny his words, Emet-Selch's eyes narrow. "You've spent years of your life fighting for Hydaelyn, against us, and yet..." He trails off for a moment, and his eyes burn like he is trying to see through her, to peer into her head, before he shakes his head with a hint of disbelief. "Some things never change."

"So what?" Chloe shots back defensively, driven by the urge to explain. "You've lost your people and your world. Anyone with half a heart would..."

Emet-Selch doesn't let her finish.

"I asked you a question down there, and I would very much like to hear your answer."

Her earlier words die on her tongue, and Chloe feels all her doubts and her self-consciousness about her reaction return with a vengeance. But even they don't quite manage to drown out the reality of her answer, and she swallows heavily before she manages a quiet, almost whispered, "Yes."

Of course, that is when he decides to abandon his kinder approach. At her soft answer, a knowing smile spreads over Emet-Selch's face, and he raises a brow.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch that."

Chloe isn't sure if he wants to mock her for being a terrible hero again or if the mirth on his face is from pure self-satisfaction, but either explanation is grating.

"Yes, I'd do the same," she snarls much louder and through gritted teeth as her hands ball into fists at her sides. "I would do anything if I could get back what I lost, who I lost. Are you happy now?"

To her surprise, his smile disappears, but the warm, almost soothing touch on her cheek persists.

"No," Emet-Selch says simply, and his eyes shimmer with regret. But it's what he says next that rattles her to her core. "I can not turn back time for you, my dear."

Chloe holds her breath for a second as she realizes he is answering a question for her she hadn't yet worked up the courage to even think deeper about it, let alone ask. But now that he mentions it, she knows these thoughts are there, together with a sense of quiet resignation. Slowly, she lets out the breath she's been holding before she finds his eyes.

"Not for anyone, I guess?" she asks quietly. "Otherwise, you would probably also rather fix the past than do what you do."

She is going out on a limb, but part of her can not imagine someone in his position not haven at least considered trying to find a way to undo tragedy rather than to retroactively fix it. For a moment, Emet-Selch looks almost lost in thought before he shrugs, and his expression changes back to the much more familiar, slightly mocking smile.

"Oh, haven't you heard?" he says lightly. "Bringing about whole worlds' ends is terribly amusing! You should try it sometime when saving it starts to get dull."

It's a bit like the night before when he had told her to drop any illusions she might have held about him. The same cold voice, the same piercing eyes, and while Chloe doesn't have a hard time believing that he is every bit as callous as he makes himself out to be, something tells her that this is not all there is. It makes her feel strangely brave, despite his harsh demeanor.

"You can cut the act now," she tells him, and to her surprise, he doesn't reply right away. Instead, his eyebrows rise, and he looks at her like he is expecting an explanation he already knows will amuse him. Chloe sighs in exasperation before she takes a step closer to him. "You know, yesterday you really convinced me. All that talk about how heartless and uncaring you are, I believed you!"

"That wasn't an act, my dear," Emet-Selch points out with so much calm assurance that Chloe knows he isn't lying. But she also knows there is something more.

"But neither was it the full truth," she insists. "Because what I saw, the way you talked about the past down in the cave, wasn't an act either."

"And yet, I meant every word," he replies with a shrug. "Your companion's life is utterly meaningless to me."

It rings just as true as everything else he has said, and Chloe swallows before she dares to go out on a limb one more time.

"But mine isn't, I think."

Ever since they had first met, Emet-Selch has been strangely encouraging with her, in his own, quite convoluted ways. He had been absolutely right about Chloe wanting to seek out his company even though he terrifies her most of the time, but she can't help but notice that the opposite seems to be true just as well. For her simply being a lowly, probably terribly mundane mortal in his eyes, he has sought her out a lot. There is a chance that it's all only for his personal amusement, something to pass the time, but that wouldn't explain why he makes an effort to teach her things and to encourage her to stand up for herself. Maybe their motivations are entirely different, but for some reason, Emet-Selch seems as strangely invested in these moments that keep happening between them as Chloe is.

"One kiss, and you suddenly grow both a spine and a sense of self-worth?" he mocks her with a sneer. "I am better than I thought. And my opinion of myself was quite high to begin with."

Chloe can't make sense of how he manages to make her feel for him while crushing her with hurtful words only moments later. What makes even less sense is that she thinks she is almost getting used to this. The first few times he had switched from playful banter into genuinely hurtful comments, she had been afraid enough to consider running from him, but by now, it is strangely intriguing. Like it's a test, and if she passes, she might get another glimpse at the man behind all the barbed remarks. 

"You were the one that kept insisting I need more of both."

When she points that out quietly but determined, Emet-Selch lets out a laugh.

"I did, didn't I?" he murmurs with a devious smile. "Let's see what a dozen more can do then."

His hand slips around her nape, tilting her head back, and before Chloe can say anything, he sweeps down and kisses her again. His lips are firm, demanding entry, and when his tongue slips into her mouth like it belongs there, Chloe moans against him. All they've just talked about is forgotten for the moment, even his sharper words. They are easily pushed aside under the sensation of just how right it feels to kiss him. The last time had ended as quickly as it had started, leaving her behind even more wanting than she had been before, but Chloe's breath goes faster at the realization that no one knows where she is right now. They are alone up here, far away from anyone, and at a spot no one might accidentally stumble over.

She grabs his coat, holding on as she returns his kiss with another moan, feeling the same courage from earlier still inside her, and when he lets her breathe again, Chloe gasps for air before she takes all that courage and pulls on his clothes.

"Not just a kiss," she says with a slightly shaky voice, "I don't even know what exactly I want, but I know I need more." Her eyes are as pleading as her voice is, and even when everything in her tells her to turn away and hide away from the overwhelming need he makes her feel, she stands her ground this time. "Tell me what you want me to say, tell me what to do, I don't care, just please, I am begging you, give me more!"

Chapter Text

Everything is completely still around them, and all Chloe can hear is the sound of her own ragged breath as she wonders if what she said might be enough to sway him. But when his hold around her tightens, she begins to realize that she needn't have worried. Not when she can see the same hunger in his eyes that makes her entire body weak for him. Emet-Selch's grip on her hair stings a little as he pulls enough to tilt her head back further. His teeth catch her lower lip, biting and pulling until he coaxes another gasp from her.

"I didn't bring you to a place this remote simply to let you go now," he says with a low growl, and his breath feels as hot against her skin as his words do when they burn through her. 

"Thank the Twelve." 

Her relieved and slightly desperate exclamation makes him chuckle.

"Your gods can do nothing to aid you here, dear," he teases as he leaves small kisses along her jaw. "You are thanking the wrong entities."

"Should I thank you then?"

The words tumble from her lips before Chloe can think any better of it, but to her relief, they only cause another laugh.

"You might," Emet-Selch says with a smug grin as he draws back a little and catches her eyes. "Or you could start by finally telling me what it is exactly that you want."

She knows he is dead serious about this, just as she knows that she needs to find a way to actually voice her thoughts. She can't expect him to read her mind, no matter how good he seems to be at that, and Chloe also knows that she can't keep using the fact that she actually never clearly asked for any of this to hide behind from her own conscience.

"I..." she starts, once again feeling her throat going dry, but this time, Chloe is determined to push through her own fears and her embarrassment. "That time in the Crystarium, behind the curtains..."

When she lowers her gaze to the floor and hesitates once more, Emet-Selch cups her cheek, making her face him again.

"When I made you go on your knees for me?" he prompts, and Chloe swallows heavily before she nods.

"Yes! I want that," she says quietly before taking all her courage together and adding, "But I don't want to just watch, and I don't want you to just watch either."

"My, are you trying to tell me you want to suck my cook? How very forward of you, my dear." There is a hint of amusement in his voice, and Chloe can already feel herself flush from both the way he talks so directly about these things and her own desire for exactly that. But before she can try and look away again, he smiles at her. "No need to be embarrassed! I told you, you are delightful when you say what you want." 

His hands are moving, and it takes her a second to realize what he is doing. One by one, he opens the buttons on her blouse, slowly starting to undress her. He slides the fabric down her arms and lets it fall to the floor before he reaches around and, with what seems to be practiced ease, undoes her breast band. Her skirt is next, and it doesn't take long until it joins her other clothes on the floor. She knows that this isn't strictly necessary for what she asked for, but Emet-Selch makes no secret of the way his eyes run over her, filled with appreciation. He wants to see her like this, it seems, and she can't deny that the mere thought that someone like him enjoys seeing her naked makes something in her burn with desire. When she is left with nothing but her panties, his hands are on her shoulders, nudging her towards the floor. 

"Go on, get down on your knees then," he prompts with a knowing look that turns into one of pure satisfaction when she follows his lead without hesitation.

Emet-Selch doesn't make an effort to undress himself. Instead, just like the last time, he simply frees his cock with one hand while the other reaches for her, settling once more in her hair.

Like before, Chloe finds herself wanting to touch him, to taste him. She wants to be the one making him moan, wants to be the sole reason for his pleasure, and unlike the last time, she is getting her wish. When she reaches for him, he lets her, and her hand wraps around him, curiously exploring the way he feels. She has nothing to compare this to, but Chloe knows he is on the bigger side by the simple fact that she is unable to reach all the way around him with one hand. His skin is hot under her touch and so very soft. She uses her other hand to engulf him fully before she gives him an experimental stroke. By the noise Emet-Selch makes, she knows she is doing something right. Her mouth falls open without further prompting, and she leans a little forward before she tentatively licks over the head of his cock.

"Good girl," he murmurs as he pulls slightly on her hair. "Now open up wide and mind your teeth." 

She barely has time to react when he moves her, and his cock slides between her lips. It's not an easy fit, she realizes almost immediately, but Emet-Selch seems to be perfectly aware of that with how carefully he guides her, and just like that, Chloe feels some of the apprehension fall away from her. 

It is every bit as exciting as she had imagined it to be. She has tasted him before on that day in the Crystarium, but now she gets to breathe in the way he smells, gets to touch, to feel him this closely, and it nearly overwhelms her senses. The last few days were endlessly frustrating, but in a way, they did their part to heighten every sensation now. Chloe knows she has never been as aroused as she is right now, and when he pushes a little further into her mouth, she can't stop herself from moaning around his length. Despite guiding her a little and still having his hand in her hair, Emet-Selch isn't pushing her, leaving her room to move as she deems fit, and Chloe closes her lips as tightly as she can around him before she starts to bob her head. The resounding moan it earns her from him goes straight between her legs, making her even more on edge, spurring her on to do it again and again. Each time she moves her head back and forth, she dares to take him a little further. She is well aware that she will not fit all of him in her mouth given how big he is, but she moves her hands along with her lips, and the noises he makes let her know she is doing something right. 

Chloe strains her neck a little, looking up at him as best as she can in this position, and the way his eyes burn into hers sends a shiver down her spine. He nudges her ever so slightly, not forcing anything but still showing her clearly how he wants her to move. It helps with her lack of knowledge, and with his gentle guidance, she quickly finds a rhythm. There is something almost indescribable to what she feels through all this. Something Chloe wouldn't have expected. But each time she can hear him enjoy what she is doing, it makes her stomach flutter in the knowledge that she is the one responsible for his moans. It makes her all the more eager, trying to take him in as far as possible until she nearly makes herself gag from letting him push a little too deep.

"Yes," he murmurs, and his fingers twitch against her scalp. "You are being so good for me, dear." 

Chloe can feel from the tension in his hand that he tries to hold himself back from grabbing her harder, and she doubles down on her efforts, moving just a little bit faster until she hears him groan deeply just before he stills and fils her mouth with his release. She does her best to swallow, but she knows it's a sloppy attempt, and some of it runs down her chin when he pulls away. 

For a moment, she doesn't know what to do next, how to react. She's still kneeling in front of him, watching through the haze of her own arousal how he fixes his clothes with barely any effort. A hint of panic runs through her as she wonders if he is going to leave her like this, if he is going to drag this out and drive her mad with lust. The thought alone is nearly unbearable, and even though her stupor, she manages to find her voice.

"Please, Emet-Selch," she begs without giving her own shame and embarrassment even a chance to engulf her again. "Please, I need something, anything." With pleading eyes, she looks up, and her voice sounds terribly raw. "Please, touch me!"

Whatever he had done to her with his aether, Chloe knows he alone holds the key to her release now. And if he wanted her to beg on her knees for it, well, he has certainly gotten that out of her by now. He could demand much of her right now. In the state she is in, Chloe knows she would be hard-pressed to say no to anything.

She can barely follow his movement, unable to have a single coherent thought, when he suddenly sinks down behind her, and his hands sneak around her waist. He is still wearing his gloves, Chloe realizes as the fabric slides over her skin and something about that makes the whole situation even more surreal. He pulls her back against him, and she can do nothing but whimper under this simple touch already as he draws her into his lap. She squirms in his hold, needing so much more than just to be held, and behind her, Emet-Selch lets out an amused laugh.

"So needy," he whispers against her ear, and his gloved hands move up her stomach to cup her breasts, squeezing them roughly before his fingers close around her hardened peaks in a deliberate pinch. The sound that leaves her mouth is half-moan and half a cry of pain, but even as he pulls and twists for a second time, much harder, it does nothing but stoke her desire. Something Emet-Selch seems to be perfectly aware of from the way he sounds gleefully amused. "You'd let me hold you down and take you right here, wouldn't you?"

His blunt words make her gasp, and Chloe can do nothing but nod.

"Gods, yes, please..."

She grabs the fabric of his coat, trying to hold on to anything for purchase as his hands wander down and take both her thighs, spreading her legs apart just enough so he can run his fingers teasingly over the fabric of her panties.

"To think you burn so hot for me, and yet you are still untouched," he murmurs as he drags his fingers over her entrance through the fabric. "One day, I am going to enjoy watching you struggle to take all of me inside you." His voice is dark and full of promise as he lets his hand slide even lower, fingers slipping underneath the fabric toward her ass, lightly teasing the ring of muscle there. "Perhaps in more than one way if you are really good for me," he promises.

Chloe gasps sharply at the implication. This is something she hasn't even considered before, but the thought of him claiming every part of her sends a bolt of heat through her. That is until she realizes another part of his statement.

"One day?" she asks in a shaky voice.

"Soon, but not quite yet, my dear." Emet-Selch lets out a low chuckle, and Chloe whines in frustration.

"Why not now? What is stopping you?"

She needs this. Something, anything. Needs him to touch her, kiss her, and so much more. He takes his hand away, and she feels like she could scream, but she is only bereft of his touch for a few seconds, then she feels him on her stomach again, this time slipping his hand into her panties.

"You are not quite what I want you to be yet," he tells her, sounding almost apologetic, but despite his denying words, he keeps touching her, his fingers spreading her open, teasing her clit for a moment before he runs them over her entrance.

"What does what even mean?" Chloe mumbles between needy moans. "What do you want me to be?"

"Truly desperate, my dear," he whispers hotly against her ear, and the moan that leaves her as he takes that moment to slip a single finger inside her is indecently loud.

"I already am..." she gets out with another needy whine, trying to tilt her hips to lean more into his touch. 

Emet-Selch adds a second finger, and even though she is embarrassingly wet for him, the fact that he is still wearing his gloves makes them drag a little. Chloe takes in a sharp breath at the sensation. His two fingers already feel like they stretch her around him, certainly more filling than when she does this to herself. They are longer, too, reaching deeper, and when they brush over the perfect spot inside her, her head falls back with a sigh.

"For this, for physical gratification, yes," Emet-Selch keeps murmuring close to her ear, and Chloe has the slim, slightly vague feeling that something in his voice sounds as threatening as it sounds exciting when he adds, "You are not yet broken and desperate enough for everything else I can offer you."

His words send a cold shudder down her back, but at the same time, he teases another finger along her cunt, and his thumb finds her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pleasure. But even his enticing touches cannot completely make her forget about the rather unsettling implication he made having her on edge.

"What are you going to do?" Chloe asks shakily, unable to keep the sliver of fear out of her voice. 

"Me? Nothing," Emet-Selch says with a dark laugh. "There is no need to. All I have to do is wait. And in the meantime..."

His fingers curl inside her, touching her just right while he rubs over her clit at the same time, and Chloe arches her back into his touch. Her eyes fall shut, and from her parted lips, his name falls in a fervent cry as everything in her coils tightly together, only to explode right after into the brightest and most overwhelming pleasure she has ever felt. Right at this moment, it doesn't even matter that she wanted more, not when she comes shaking around his fingers, still feeling the slight drag of the fabric against her when she moves. It's unlike the times she has done this to herself. Like he manages to draw her pleasure out, make the feeling last a little bit longer, and keep her in the moment.

Chloe is almost a little disoriented when she finally comes down from the high. She is slumped against his chest, with his arms still around her, holding her against him. 

Now that she is no longer distracted and driven by pure need, she becomes acutely aware of the fact that she is completely naked, cradled against his chest, while Emet-Selch hadn't even taken off his gloves. She isn't sure if the thought mortifies her or if it is more arousing than anything, but when he keeps caressing her, one hand still playing with her breasts while the other keeps slowly teasing against her oversensitive sex, she can't be too bothered by it. His touch is almost a little too much after just how intense the whole thing had been, but when Chloe squirms a little, he sends a soothing wave of aether through her. Her head falls back against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut, and for a moment, she feels strangely content. Not something she should feel while being in the arms of an Ascian, she knows. Especially not after the ominous way he had spoken to her. Perhaps she should be more concerned, but despite who he is and even the harsher things he has said to her before, Emet-Selch hasn't hurt her, nor had he done anything she hadn't wanted him to do. On the contrary, when she really thinks about it. He was the one who had repeatedly insisted on her telling him what she wanted. That counts for something in her book.

With her mind a little bit clearer now, Chloe's thoughts drift back to their earlier talk, trying to make sense of some things that are still weighing on her mind.

"What did you mean by some things never change?" she asks quietly. The way he had sounded and how he had phrased things had felt odd to her, but she had let herself be easily distracted then. Now her curiosity is back at the forefront of her mind again.

"I meant that you have some very predictable traits that haven't changed at all," Emet-Selch murmurs, sounding like he is as relaxed as she feels right at this moment. There is a calm about him that she hasn't felt before, and Chloe sighs a little when his hands keep roaming over her body in gentle caresses. 

"You barely know me," she points out with a small frown that deepens when his hands stop for a moment. She can't see his face like this, but Chloe can definitely feel his fingers subtly tighten for the briefest of moments before he continues his soft touches. She shifts a little, trying to twist enough so she can look at him over her shoulder. "We have never met before this, haven't we?" she asks, trying to think back if there is any chance that she has seen him on the Source perhaps. "I mean, not before Eulmore, right? If I had met you, I would remember."

She isn't prepared for Emet-Selch's laugh to sound strangely bitter and somewhat resigned before he shakes his head.

"Oh dear, the irony is a bit much, but to make it simple, no, you have never met me before."

There is something off about this; Chloe is sure of it. She can by no means call herself an expert in dealing with him, but from the way he has been with her before, she knows that while he doesn't seem to lie outright, he definitely doesn't always give her the entire truth either. Still frowning, she shuffles a little to turn around further so she doesn't have to twist her neck.

"But you have met me ?" she asks with a raised brow, even though she can barely imagine in what situation that could have been the case when she suddenly pauses. The sneaking suspicion that suddenly demands all her attention seems too out there, too strange. And yet Chloe can't help but think about earlier that day when, for a moment, she thought she had heard the same strange mix of bitterness and resignation before. "What happened to those you lost back then?" she asks quietly. "You said the world was sundered, and only three of you survived. Did everyone else just... die?"

For a moment, Emet-Selch's eyes seem like they are burning, and Chloe has to force herself not to flinch. She almost expects him to lash out, but to her surprise, whatever harsh words she imagined don't come. Instead, he lets out a deep sigh. 

"That would have been a mercy," he says with a shake of his head. "But no, they didn't simply die, not in that sense. They got sundered, much like the world itself."

His lips curl in distaste at the word sundered, leaving no doubt about how he personally feels about that.

"What exactly does that mean?"

She could somewhat follow his explanation about the Source and the reflections, but this almost sounds like he is saying that it happened to the people just as well as it did to the star. Something heavy settles in her stomach as he confirms her thoughts only a moment later.

"Each soul shattered into fourteen parts. One for each shard of the broken world. The Source and its thirteen reflections, all inhabited by fragmented beings, fractions of a whole."

There it is again, the same hint of bitterness in his voice she heard before, and Chloe swallows heavily as she tries to wrap her mind around what exactly that means.

"No one could remember," she murmurs. "You said that in the cave. But how..."

"I think we've had enough of a history lesson for now," Emet-Selch cuts her off, and from how sharp his voice sounds, Chloe knows he doesn't want to talk about this any further. She definitely does, though.

"You are the one who kidnapped me so we could talk," she points out with a raised brow.

For a second, Emet-Selch looks genuinely surprised, as if he hadn't expected her to try and argue with him at all. The surprise morphs into an unreadable expression before he lets his hand trail over her stomach.

"Fine, here is something to talk about," he challenges her, his sharp eyes narrowing a little. "You said you would do the same, so what would you do if I tell you that while turning back time isn't an option for me, I highly suspect it is what someone else is doing?"

Part of her wants to insist on staying the course, knowing full well he is deliberately changing the topic, but at the same time, what he says has her attention.

"Who?" she asks, curiosity getting the better of her, and Emet-Selch's lips turn into a knowing smile.

"Your Exarch, of course, my dear," he says, sounding like he is explaining the obvious. When she only gives him a confused look, he sighs. "His tower is of Allagan design. Not something that exists on the First, and his soul is surprisingly dense, maybe even a tad more than yours, as if another rejoining has already happened for him. Which can only mean very few things, as unbelievable as they may sound."

It takes her a moment to wrap her mind around this and to follow his reasoning. This is once again so very different from anything Chloe has ever experienced that the mere thoughts sound fantastical. 

"You think he is from the future?" she finally asks, and Emet-Selch merely shrugs his shoulders in response. 

"It is by far the most fitting explanation."

He is still touching her, but by now, it feels less like it is full of intent and more like he is almost absentmindedly doing it. It's a pleasant sensation, a level of casual yet strangely intimate touching that Chloe has never experienced before.

"If he truly is, then why here and now?" she mumbles more to herself than to him in her attempts to make sense of this knowledge. "Why not go back far further and prevent much more tragedy?" This time her question is clearly directed at Emet-Selch. "If he wants to save the first, why not return to a time before the flood? Or before the last calamity, saving another world right along, or-"

"How far back would be far enough?" Emet-Selch interrupts her, and the rest of her words die on her tongue. 

How far indeed? For herself, the answer would be simple. Just far enough so she can make sure her parents hide from the calamity somewhere else, someplace that doesn't crumble atop of them. But then again, if she had the power to go back, would it be irresponsible to simply stop there? Would it be selfish, perhaps, if she could prevent so much more?

"You think one could ever go far enough?"

At her quiet question, Emet-Selch cups her cheek and tilts her head to look him in the eyes.

"No," he says softly. "I don't."

His answer is plain, direct, and somehow it feels almost raw like he is more open than usual when talking to her.

"I guess not," she admits quietly. "There might always be one more thing to make right, however small it may seem." It doesn't make the thought of going back to save the ones she loves sound any less tempting.

"Would you do it anyway?" Chloe asks, leaning a little into his touch. "If you could, I mean, would you go back to save someone, even if you could maybe do more somewhere else?"

His eyes turn painfully soft for a second, making something in her stomach twist as his fingers trail down her neck in a gentle caress. "In a heartbeat, my dear," he simply replies, and Chloe swallows heavily, barely unable to stand the strange tension that is suddenly in the air. The moment seems just a little bit too personal, too raw for them both, and when she clears her throat, she starts to nervously look around.

"They'll be looking for me soon if I don't return," Chloe murmurs.

"I'd say let them," comes Emet-Selch's casual reply. They both know it's an excuse given how secluded this place is, but when she starts to fidget, he lets out a weary sigh. "Fine, have it your way then." Without warning, he shifts her in his arms and leans down to kiss her again. It's softer than his earlier kisses but no less confusing, and Chloe gasps against his lips as she finds herself nearly drowning in the sensations. She is only dimly aware of her surroundings when she suddenly hears a snap, and then his touch is gone, and she finds herself fully dressed and back right outside the Ravel. She blinks a couple of times, trying to shake off the slightly hazy feeling, but no matter where she looks, Emet-Selch is nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Text

The thoughts about the Exarch stay on the forefront of her mind like she is unable to let them go for even a second. The implications behind it all are far too big for her to fully fathom, and Chloe knows she needs someone else's perspective on this. Someone who is maybe as skeptical of him as she is. If anyone can help her make sense of all this, it would be Y'shtola, she knows. There is a hint of unease simmering in her stomach at the thought, given all the strange looks the other woman has bestowed upon her since they had come to this forest, but deep down, Chloe knows that whatever has her so on edge, Yshtola has always been a good friend to her. Sharp and very direct, but also supporting and looking out for her from the day they had met in La Noscea all those years ago.

She needs to talk to her, tell her all about this. It would mean disclosing that she has been talking to Emet-Selch a lot more than the Scions know, but that part doesn't even matter to Chloe anymore, not when the things she has learned are this important. Additionally, she is sure that Y'shtola would also appreciate all the little bits Chloe has found out about souls and rejoinings from him as well. They could further their understanding of the whole thing, and Emet-Selch had never told her that she couldn't share any of this.

Before they are getting ready to return to the Crystarium, Chloe goes looking for her friend. She is most likely packing her belongings to return with them, and when she nears her door, she can hear Y'shtola's voice from within. Together with another one, Chloe realizes just before she is about to knock. Urianger, it seems, and what little she can hear makes her freeze all movement as she realizes they are talking about her. About the light. Her eyes widen as she hears Y'shtola say that she can see the light's corruption in her, followed by Urianger agreeing but somehow trying to convince her that she shouldn't worry? It doesn't make any sense, and she finds herself leaning closer, pressing her ear to the wood and listening carefully. 

Chloe has suspected for a while now that the light is doing something to her. She has tried to bring it up before, but both the Exarch and Urianger had brushed her concerns aside and had told her she needn't worry about it. The way Y'shtola sounds now brings all her fears back with a vengeance. If the other woman can see the light's influence this clearly, and if it's enough to have her genuinely convinced that Chloe was a Sin-Eater for a moment, it doesn't bode well for her. But what unsettles her the most is listening to her friends talk and agreeing to not tell her about it for now. 

Under normal circumstances, Chloe would be hurt but also resigned to the fact that whatever secrets they keep from her are most likely kept out of concern. Perhaps they think she couldn't handle the truth, or maybe they simply want to spare her the worrying about it.

As if she can't feel that something is wrong with her own body clearly every since slaying the first warden, Chloe scoffs at herself. Do they really think she's oblivious about this? After she has tried to talk about it more than once? It doesn't add up, and her stomach clenches at the uncomfortable thought that maybe keeping things from her isn't for her benefit at all. She knows that this is not entirely her own thought, that this weird feeling of suspicion she has is rooted in the things Emet-Selch had mentioned. His harsh words about people having her on a leash and pointing her at problems for them to solve sounded far too grim for her, but now the thought lingers somehow. Making her question if not telling her these things is meant to assure that she doesn't stop doing what she does.

The implication is devastating, something she doesn't want to believe, but now that the thought is there, it's strangely hard to ignore.

Inside, her friends are still talking. Shaken to her core by the things she has heard and what they could mean, Chloe quietly steps away, making sure no one knows what she has witnessed. When they return to the Crystarium not long after, she excuses herself the minute they arrive, putting some distance between her and everyone else to gather her thoughts. The part of her that has been feeling awful for keeping her meetings with Emet-Selch a secret feels strangely betrayed by the realization that others, in turn, have been keeping secrets from her as well. And far more important ones, she thinks. Her talks and even everything more with the Ascian, as ill-advised as they might seem, haven't had any direct influence on someone else. The issue with the light slowly eroding her aether, on the other hand, is something she deserves to know if she is risking her life for them on a regular basis. As for whatever it is the Exarch might be hiding... The mere thought makes her restless, and a while later, she finds herself knocking at the door to the Ocular.

She has no idea what he is doing in there all day long when no one is around to discuss plans, but as expected, the Exarch is there, and he sounds pleased to see her. On any other day, Chloe would have made small-talk, maybe told him something uneventful from their trip to get a conversation going, but not today. Today she is on edge, and while it is unusual for her, she gets straight to the point.

"Are you from the future?"

Her question hangs in the air, and while she can't see his face underneath the cowl he wears, Chloe can tell it has caught him off guard by how perfectly still he is all of a sudden. Silence stretches to a point where it becomes obvious that this is not something he wants to answer. When it is on the verge of getting uncomfortable, Chloe draws in air to ask again, but she doesn't get to when the Exarch suddenly shakes his head.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

His voice sounds stilted, closed off. The words are a clear dismissal of the topic, but she can't let it rest and simply accept that, not after all she has learned these past few days.

"I think you do," Chloe says quietly but with an unusual degree of determination. And again, from the way he takes a step back and tilts his head, she can see her reaction throws him off.

"How did you..." the Exarch murmurs before his shoulders tense. "Emet-Selch." The simple uttering of a name sounds like an accusation already. "He told you about this?"

"He wasn't sure of it himself," Chloe freely admits. "But speculated that it was the most fitting explanation. Is it true?"

She isn't sure if she can expect an answer at all, not after he immediately deflected her question the first time. Chloe is all the more surprised when, after another moment of stretched-out silence, the Exarch slowly nods.

"Can you, I mean..." she nearly stumbles over her words as her mind races with all the possibilities of what this could mean. "If you are capable of such a thing, can you go back further? Prevent other calamities?"

The question is out before she can think better of it, and Chloe's heart immediately sinks when the Exarch slowly shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I can't."

It's all he says in a clipped tone. No elaboration, no explanation, just this.

"Can't or won't?" she asks tonelessly, and in front of her, he lets out a deep sigh.

"Both."

A short answer again, without anything to explain or to soften the blow.

"Then why are you doing this?" she asks, her brow furrowed as she tries to understand what little she has to work with. "If you have all this power, why not use it?"

Chloe knows she sounds almost accusatory, but if the Exarch is bothered by that, he doesn't let it show.

"I am using it," he says calmly. "To hopefully save the world."

Something bitter stirs in her at that, and for once, she completely forgets to keep her own reactions in check. Where she would normally have nodded and excused herself, Chloe now can't help but scoff.

" Your world, you mean, certainly not mine," she says without a second thought. "Wherever it is you actually come from."

This time her words definitely bother him, and the Exarch shifts a little, his grip around his staff subtly tightening.

"Chloe," he asks carefully. "Just how much do you talk to him?"

She can't tell if his tone sounds concerned or judgemental. Perhaps it's a little bit of both. It certainly manages to rouse her defensiveness.

"Why does it matter?"

He sighs before he suddenly takes a step closer.

"Can't you see what he is doing? He doesn't have your best interests at heart. He is trying to manipulate you."

It's nothing that Chloe hasn't already told herself and carefully considered, but the fact that it's the Exarch of all people telling her this makes the hairs on her nape stand up as a hint of anger rushes through her.

"By telling me the truth?" Chloe asks sharply. "Then what are you doing? Having my best interest at heart by lying to me?"

"I never lied!"

His voice is slightly raised and full of indignation. It makes her flinch on instinct, and she takes a careful step back.

"You are doing it right now," Chloe insists. "By refusing to tell me the truth. Just like you spied on me and tried to conceal it, that is lying by omission!"

"And your Ascian isn't doing that?" By now, the Exarch sounds different, in a way she has never heard from him before. He is undoubtedly angry when he takes another step toward her. "Come to think of it, haven't you been doing that as well? How much do your friends know about your little talks with him? If talking is all you've been up to."

"That is none of your business," Chloe replies heatedly, but at the same time, she curses the fact that she knows her face flushes at his accusation, instantly giving away just how spot on his words are.

"So it's true then?" the Exarch asks with a hint of disbelief. "I was hoping I was wrong about this." Tension runs through him as he reaches out, and his crystalized hand clasps around her arm. "Have you lost your mind? You, of all people!"

"You brought me here against my will, but you don't know me, and we are not friends," Chloe hisses, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp, but his hold is surprisingly strong. "Let go of me!"

"I brought you here to save this world, not to start sleeping with the enemy," the Exarch shoots back. His voice is unusually heated, and Chloe thinks she can hear a strange sense of betrayal in it as he adds, "What happened to you? How has he turned you into this person?"

She is about to tell him that no one has turned her into anything when a startlingly loud noise rips through the air that makes even the Exarch flinch. 

It takes her a few moments to realize what that sound most likely is, and when she does, the Exarch is already moving, calling out to the guards before he even reaches the doors. 

An attack.

And somewhere close.

Their talk is forgotten for the moment as she hurries after him and then makes to find the other Scions right away. Within minutes she knows from the scouts reporting that there are Sin-Eaters all over Lakeland, attacking the remaining outposts. They do what they can to secure the Crystarium as best as possible, and then they are on their way, accompanying what can be spared from the Crystarium's guard to where the fighting takes place.

The sky above is dark and cloudy. Rain falls heavily, turning the sandy roads to mud under their feet and slowing down their progress. Yet even through the noise of the heavy rainfall, Chloe can hear fighting in the distance long before she can see what is happening. She is drenched to her skin even before they arrive, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters but the Sin-Eaters that keep pouring in from all sides. Chloe has never seen so many of them at once, not even when going after the Wardens. They appear like an army, overwhelming and oppressing. For a moment, she feels like she is back on the Ghimlyt Dark, on a battlefield surrounded by far too many enemies with death looming around every corner. There are dead bodies lining the floor before they can even try to help, and all while they slowly fight themselves through the horde, more and more people around them fall. Some turn into Sin-Eaters right away, others just hit the ground with a sound of finality where they stay, unmoving.

She doesn't know how long they are fighting. It feels like time stretches into a loop around her as she repeats the same actions over and over again. Chloe does her best to shield and heal as much as possible. At the start, she throws out the occasional offensive spell when she still has a sliver of energy left, and no one around her is in immediate danger of dying. But those instances become less and less the longer the battle rages. People start to fall left and right, and with each of them, Chloe realizes a little bit more that she doesn't have the energy or the skill to save everyone and that she has to prioritize to keep the most efficient fighters alive.

For a few seconds, the realization petrifies her. She has been in fights before, she has even had to make the one or other difficult decision before, but never on a scale like this, and never on her own in the blink of an eye. The horrible sounds of the Sin Eaters screeching, the noises of weapons clashing against marble skin, screams of agony and battle-cries alike, they all morph into a cacophony of noise, threatening to pull her under.

And then it's eerily quiet.

Around her, the battle rages on, but the noises are gone, and when Chloe looks around, everything seems so much slower than before. She is in the eye of the storm, watching the hurricane of destruction unfold, and suddenly she knows exactly what she has to do, no matter how much it breaks her heart. 

She channels her limited reserves into shields to protect the front line, uses what magic she has left to heal the gravest injuries she can see on those who are still standing and able to wield their weapons. And when she follows the soldiers rushing to reclaim their outpost, running past the people she knows are still alive but she is unable to save, a part of her shatters with each step she takes, the weight of her decision threatening to crush her under heel. 

'Not yet,' she murmurs to herself as she clutches her book harder. She has no illusions about what she has to do. She has to decide on who lives and who dies right now, at this moment. And she has to do it based on practicality if they want to save anyone at all. It is the right choice to make, but it doesn't hurt any less. For now, she manages to crush her doubts and shove them back down. There will be time for regrets later, time to fall apart from guilt over choosing based on merit instead of compassion. If she lives, that is. If all of this doesn't turn out to be in vain. For now, she has a job to do.

The fighting takes hours, and when it's finally over, they are victorious, but there are no cheers, only desperate, chocked-up sighs of relief. Chloe doesn't know how she is still standing, but once everything dies down, people around her drop to the floor in exhaustion, many incapable of even making it one step further, and she knows her part is not over. She's at the end of her resources, already having drunk far more restorative potions to replenish her energy than any sane medicus would advise, but she gets out another one and drinks it in one go.

It burns going down her throat, acutely reminding her that there are people in pain around her, and Chloe gets to work. She does what she can, trying to assess who has the gravest injuries, who needs a quick solution, and who can probably wait for more healers to arrive. More hours go by like this, and it feels like it takes forever until more relief arrives from the Crystarium. By the time it finally does, her throat is on fire from taking more potions and talking down panicked soldiers without pause. Her legs feel like they are made of lead as she finally drags herself away from the make-shift infirmary that has been set up. It still feels like she is letting people down when she steps away, but another healer practically shoves her outside, and Chloe knows she is becoming more of a liability than actual help by now. She makes it a couple of yalms before her foot catches on something heavy. 

It's by sheer luck that she keeps her balance, freezing on the spot when she realizes that what she almost fell over is another dead body. A young woman lying face down in the grass, her back abnormally contorted and with her lance still in her hand. 

'At least she went quick, most likely dead before hitting the ground,' is the first thing that runs through Chloe's mind, and a second later, she nearly falls to her knees as exhaustion and reality staring her in the face threaten to overwhelm her. She moves around the body and breaks into a run, away from too many people's prying eyes and around the next wall before she doubles over and heaves, her stomach emptying itself under violent retching noises.

The nausea goes away as quickly as it has come, but it leaves her leaning against the wall with shaking limbs and clammy hands. Familiar voices come from not far away. She thinks she can hear Thancred, and for a second, Chloe wonders if he is looking for her, but then she realizes he is talking to someone else, and her eyes widen as she recognizes the other voice as Emet-Selch's.

"You look far too proud of yourself for someone who has barely won this skirmish," she hears Emet-Selch sneer, and Chloe takes a deep breath, trying to center herself so she can go looking for them because nothing about this bodes well.

"We won, that is all that counts," Thancred retorts, and Chloe can clearly hear the anger in his voice.

When she pushes herself off the wall and slowly makes her way around the corner, she can hear their words much more clearly.

"Looks like we didn't need your help, after all, Ascian," Thancred says, and there is a feeling of menace in his voice Chloe isn't used to hearing from him.

"You look very happy with yourself," Emet-Selch replies coldly before raising one brow. "Do you want to know what I see in all this?"

"Nor really," Thancred shoots back, but it doesn't impress the Ascian at all.

"I see a group of people who think their own pride is more important than the woman they have fighting all their battles for them."

"Excuse me?"

Thancred narrows his eyes, his hand clasping tighter around the hilt of his gunblade, and Chloe is about to shout out for him to not do anything rash, but Emet-Selch is already speaking again.

"You could have accepted my offer to help with one word, could have had me end all this in an instant," he sneers at Thancred. Chloe can't tell if he is genuinely angry or if this is a particularly well-done act, but in any case, he looks frighteningly unkind. That is until he turns toward her, and something in his eyes softens. "Instead, you rather risked her taking serious harm and made her fight to exhaustion with all that Light inside her," he says, much softer but still with a hint of anger. With piercing eyes, he looks back at Thancred. "Does she truly mean so little to you?"

For a moment, Thancred looks like all the wind has been taken out of his sails, reeling a little before his brow furrows.

"You are bending reality to your liking, Ascian," he hisses, and at his sharp reply, Emet-Selch lets out a dry huff. 

"Reality is unbendable. You should have learned that lesson by now."

The tension in the air is palpable and nearly overwhelming, but there is something about all this that has her thoroughly rattled.

"You could have ended this at any time?" she asks timidly in Thancred's direction, and her throat nearly closes up at the thought. "All those people..."

"No, Chloe, he is obviously playing us," Thancred says, still snarling in Emet-Selch's direction. "No way he would have helped. He is lying. Manipulating us."

He sounds utterly convinced of that, and Chloe can understand why he would be, but at the same time, she can't help but think that Thancred might be wrong in this assumption. From how she knows Emet-Selch to behave, this doesn't seem like him at all. Which begs another question, this time for the Ascian.

"You could have helped anyway, regardless of what they said," she points out quietly, not expecting the frown on his face as he regards her with a thoughtful look.

"You think I should simply ignore someone telling me no whenever I feel like it? Or only if I think it's for their own best?"

The question is loaded, filled to the brim with implications that everyone else around them doesn't even realize, but they are there and weigh heavily on her. Emet-Selch is still looking at her, but from the way the corner of his mouth curls into the hint of a smile, Chloe knows he is not expecting her to give him an answer. Not here, and not now at least. 

"I shall take my leave. There is no use in arguing when your time is better spent tending to your wounded." For a moment, Chloe thinks she hears some genuine sympathy in his voice as he adds, "And your dead, of course. They deserve at least that much."

A portal appears behind him without the usual theatrics of him summoning it, and with another unreadable look at her, he disappears into it. In front of her, Thancred is still seething, and Chloe knows she should leave him alone to calm down, but part of her needs to know what exactly it was they were talking about.

"What happened?" she asks softly, watching Thancred's brow furrow further and his teeth clench.

"He showed up about halfway through the battle, offering to take care of it for us," he spats, eyes blazing. Chloe knows his anger isn't directed at her, but the harshness in her voice intimidates her regardless. "For the small price of promising to hear him out and listen with an open mind, as if we could ever trust a single word an Ascian says." Thancred leaves no doubt about what he thinks of this offer, and Chloe swallows heavily.

"So you declined."

It isn't supposed to be judgemental, but the way Thancred looks at her makes it obvious he takes it that way. 

"I made the right call! There is no telling of what the consequences of being indebted to an Ascian might be."

There isn't anything she can argue against that. All she can do is finally give in to the impulse she had felt ever since leaving the Crystarium - retreat.

"I need to rest," Chloe murmurs. "I am returning to the Crystarium."

She can tell he is still angry by the fact that he doesn't offer to accompany her like he usually does, and she knows Thancred needs time on his own to deal with what happened today. They all do. He only nods at her in acknowledgment, and a moment later, she channels what energy she has left to teleport back.

It eats up whatever reserves she had left. Back in the Crystarium, Chloe can barely see straight as she makes her way back to her room. In it, she just stands and stares for a while. From here, simply looking out of her window, the world seems almost alright. 

Nothing is alright anymore, she knows, not daring to let her mind wander too far, knowing full well that the decisions she had made today are already lying in wait to haunt her. Almost mechanically, she goes through the motions of undressing, ignoring the visible stains of blood all over her clothes. She stubbornly closes her eyes when she steps into the shower, unwilling to watch the water turn red as she scrubs the grime of death and battle off her skin. The water is too hot, each drop painful on her skin and even more agonizing on all the cuts and bruises she took home with her. Nothing feels real anymore as she steps out and dries her skin off, ignoring the blood staining her white towels before she puts on her plainest clothes, the ones she usually wears for gardening. A pair of work pants, a plain tunic, and a ribbon to keep her hair out of her eyes. 

Chloe doesn't plan for anything, but without putting much thought into it, she takes a backpack, filling it with her most personal items. The garden tools she bought herself, her notebook, the sweater she likes so much, and a couple of things from the kitchen. Everything she needs if she wants to go home. It's only when she finds herself standing in the middle of the Crystarium that she realizes her way home leads through the Ocular. A place where she knows the Exarch is discussing today's events, possibly with some of her friends present. She wants nothing more than to go home, to leave this place behind and never look back, but Chloe knows full well she will not be capable of walking past them. 

But she can't stay here either, not in this place where everything feels strangely normal. Where she can come back at the end of a gruesome day and crawl into her comfortable bed. How is she supposed to sleep in all this comfort, knowing just how many people won't be coming home tonight anymore? How many beds remain empty because their owners lie dead on the side of a road? And how many people mourn the loss of their loved ones tonight because Chloe was doing her best, but her best simply hadn't been good enough?

She swallows heavily and turns on the spot. Without thinking too much about it, she makes her way up to the Amaro departures. The people there are friendly and kind as ever, and it takes no effort to convince them to lend her one of their animals. And not much later, she leaves the Cystarium behind on Amaro back, flying blindly into the night, carrying nothing but her backpack and her guilt, and with no plan of where to go.

Chapter Text

For a while, Chloe simply flies straight ahead, not really looking at her environment. All she does is make sure to steer the Amaro away from the Crystarium. She has no real plan of where to go, no idea of what to do next. All that drives her is the thought that staying seems more frightening than leaving. Part of her can't help but mock herself for it. Her inner voice sounds suspiciously like Emet-Selch when it calls her a coward, but even that isn't enough to make her turn back. Around her, the trees start to change color, and after a while, she realizes that her flight path has led her right back into the Rak'tika Greatwood. Here the leaves are much larger, and the canopy they form is much denser than in Lakeland. The starlight doesn't flood the forest floor, and in certain parts of the forest, it is so dark it almost feels like she is inside a cave. The moment she thinks that Chloe suddenly knows where she is going, and for the first time since flying off, she gently steers the beast she's riding in a specific direction.

Not much later, she lands the Amaro on the soft forest floor. After she dismounts and gives him a few encouraging words and a gentle pat on his snout, she lets him go, watching for a moment how the animal shakes its feathers once and then takes off again. Chloe knows she doesn't have to worry about him. Like all the Amaro they occasionally rent out on the first, it is trained to return to their handlers whenever they are no longer needed. 

Once the animal is gone, it's a lot quieter around her. Of course, a forest in itself is never truly silent. There are leaves rustling in the light nightly breeze, and there are lots of animals around going about their nightly business. It's when Chloe sets foot inside the cave network of the Qitana Ravel that those natural noises start to disappear. The further she goes inside, the more pronounced the noises she makes get until all she can hear are her own breathing and her footsteps echoing through the air.

In the room with the murals, she comes to a halt. Chloe isn't sure why she is at this place exactly, only that it felt almost natural to go here once she thought about it. She just stands in the middle of the room, hands clutched into the straps of her backpack as her eyes wander over the paintings, and she remembers the story Emet-Selch had told about them. Chloe knows that some of the Scions still arent' convinced about what they learned here that day, from thinking it sounds too fantastical to simply refusing to entertain the possibility that the Ascian had told them the truth. Chloe is by no means an expert in ancient history, nor is she particularly adept at reading people. In fact, she is probably the last person whose opinion on the matter should interest anyone, but she cannot shake this particular feeling that she gets when thinking about all this - a strange sense of longing when looking at those depictions of a place that looks, unlike anything she's ever seen before. And yet it feels so familiar. 

When Chloe thinks about home, most of her thoughts are about loss. About regrets and the dire wish to return to simpler times, times when the world had made sense, and she had known her place. In a month, it will be eleven years since that place, that time has ceased to exist. Eleven years of mourning and desperate attempts to move on. Eleven years of grief and self-doubt, of questioning if she could have done something different - if anyone could have. Eleven years since her world ended and eleven years since she had to learn how to live in a new one that doesn't seem to suit her. Nor is it particularly kind to her. Eleven years of smiling and forcing herself to be someone others need her to be, convincing herself that it is fine and that she only needs to soldier on long enough, that one day she'll get there and indeed be that person that was able to make the best out of a tragedy. Eleven years of agony, and yet they seem insignificant as she watches the paintings that depict another world's end and wonder just how many years it has been for Emet-Selch.

Perhaps this is why he seems to have such an insight into her feelings. Even when he mocks her, makes fun of her hesitation, or finds some other way to insult her, there is always this underlying sense of understanding with him. Like the advice he gives her doesn't come from platitudes but from experience.

She is so lost in thought Chloe doesn't know just how long she has been standing here and staring. Moonlight still falls into the cave from much higher up, illuminating it just enough to see. The part of her that has been choked up and on the verge of desperate tears since the attack on Lakeland wishes she could simply let those feelings out, but even here, far away from everyone else all by herself, it seems impossible to let go. As if a part of her is numb, incapable of letting out what she knows is broiling inside her. Perhaps it's better this way, Chloe thinks. Maybe, unlike those who lost everything tonight, her despair at her own incompetence doesn't deserve the same consideration.

Who is she but a would-be savior who failed on a scale too large to even grasp? How inappropriate would it be for her to shed tears over her failure when there were people mourning the loss of life? 

With a defeated sigh, she sets down her backpack. She didn't bring much with her, nothing to make camp with, Chloe realizes. When she packed her bag, the idea hadn't even come to her. She had planned to go straight back to Mor Dhona, after all. All she has with her is a bit of food, a few clothes, and tools. Nothing to make a fire with, no bedroll. For a second, she wonders if she should make her way to Fanow and try to stay there for the rest of the night, but the idea of having to answer questions and deal with people, however well they might mean, makes her drop that thought almost immediately. 

Chloe sits down next to her bag, her arms wrapped around her legs before she lets her head rest on her knees. She hasn't thought this through at all, not past the pressing urge to get away. Her goal to go home remains above anything else, but the longer she thinks about it, the more it becomes clear that she won't be able to simply disappear in secret. Her way home lies in the heart of the Crystarium, and come morning at the latest, her friends will have realized she is missing and will worry about her. 

He friends who can't just leave and go back home. Who are stuck here because of their proximity to her. She doesn't even know if she blames herself for these particular circumstances or if she should blame the Exarch for it. It's certainly the easier option. He had called them all here, after all. Then again, everyone that is here now is so because they flocked around her. Maybe, if Chloe had been a more capable person, someone more suited to being Hydaelyn's chosen, she wouldn't have needed all the support, and the Scions would have been spared all this.

The what-ifs lead nowhere, Chloe knows, but that doesn't make it easier to push these thoughts away, and she clenches her eyes shut with an angry sigh.

"Oh dear, am I interrupting the traditional post-battle brooding?"

Emet-Selch's voice comes out of nowhere, ringing clearly through the otherwise quiet air in the cave, loud enough to startle Chloe out of her thoughts. When she looks up with a flinch, she sees him standing not far from her, looking her over with a raised brow.

"A rather pathetic display for a hero, I must say."

His harsh remark doesn't even hurt. Not anymore. After basically running away only to find herself here of all places, woefully ill-equipped to actually hide out anywhere for a prolonged time, 'pathetic' is exactly how she feels.

"Are you going to tell me everything will be alright at some point?" she asks, sounding almost resigned. It's what people do after tragedy, she has learned that a long time ago. They pat her back and tell her how strong she is to still be standing, their encouraging words already trying to push her to move on, anything to keep her from looking back.

"Who do you take me for, my dear?" Emet-Selch sounds almost offended at her suggestion. "I thought by now you'd have learned I am not prone to lying."

"It's what everyone else would say. That and 'time will heal all wounds.'"

At that, he lets out a disgusted scoff, looking at the murals for a moment before he shakes his head.

"Now that is an actual lie, believe me. Time does nothing of the sort, not when the wound goes deep enough." 

For a moment, she thinks she catches a glimpse of the man she has seen in this very cave before. The man who sounded so somber and gentle for a while that the grief hiding behind his words had been painfully obvious to see. Has it really only been a little more than a day since then? Somehow Chloe feels like it should have been much longer, given how many things have happened. A day ago, it still felt like maybe this whole endeavor wouldn't end in misery for her. Now, after the last couple of hours, everything has changed. She, most of all.

And suddenly, she remembers something he had said. 

"You are not yet broken and desperate enough for everything else I can offer you... All I have to do is wait."

She knows it is no coincidence at all that he has found her here, so shortly after she ran away. Perhaps he had known the entire time where she was, come to think of it. He had certainly watched her fight, saw the outcome with his own eyes.

"Am I finally broken enough for you?" she asks, and her own voice sounds unusually bitter for a second. Yet, despite all that, her misgivings seem to float away when he crouches down in front of her and presses his palm against her cheek to make her face him.

"This will do nicely." His eyes are warm, but the smile he gives her isn't. It's too pleased and too gleeful to be meant in sympathy. His eyes are piercing as always, making her think that there is nothing she can hide from him, no matter how much she keeps herself together on the outside. He sees right through her act in a way no one else seems to be able to, and when his smile only widens, Chloe feels something cold run down her back. Emet-Selch notices the shiver running through her immediately, and with one fluid move, he rises again and steps behind her. Something about losing sight of him spurs her into action, and Chloe tries to scramble up, but she barely makes it to her knees when both his hands are heavy on her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. When he draws her back against him, she can feel the metal decorations of his coat against her back, and Chloe swallows as she realizes he has gotten down on the floor right behind her. And then Emet-Selch nudges her closer, lips brushing over her cheek and down her jaw. 

"Are you afraid of me, my dear?"

He nuzzles her neck as he speaks while one of his hands runs down over her arm.

"Yes," comes her toneless, quiet reply. Something about him terrifies her in a bone-deep, earth-shattering way that makes her heart beat faster and her breath uneven. And yet, at the same time, it's not the kind of fear where she feels the impulse to run away and hide, which seems like the worst kind of irony under these circumstances. No, this fear keeps her firmly in place, and right behind it hides something else. Curiosity, need, and a strange yearning for something Chloe doesn't quite understand, but she doesn't need to understand it to know that it fascinates her. "You like me being scared," she adds quietly. He has freely admitted to it before, but it's only now that she starts to feel like she might be able to make sense of it. 

"You like being scared," Emet-Selch points out in return, letting his teeth scrape across her neck. "At least with me, that is." Only a moment later, his hand grabs her chin in a harsh hold. "Keep your eyes open," he says with a low growl as he turns her enough, so she is facing the mural that depicts fire raining from the sky. Emet-Selch's voice sounds raw as he holds her in place and his teeth scrape over her neck. "What do you feel when you look at this? What does it remind you of?"

There is no question about it, and Chloe doesn't even have to think about her answer. It's obviously a different city, a different sky depicted in those paintings, but it doesn't matter. Fire falling from the heavens looks the same pretty much everywhere she suspects, be it his ancient home or in her memories of the calamity looming in the sky above Limsa. 

"Pain, despair, loss..."

She whimpers when he bites down on her neck, teeth digging into her skin. This is not a teasing nip to rile her up, she knows. This is designed to hurt.

"Regrets?"

His voice is low, and Chloe shudders as his hot breath hits her skin before she nods.

"So many regrets," she whispers, and a gasp leaves her right after when his grip on her tightens.

"Perfect." One of his hands moves over her body, and Chloe swallows as she realizes he seems adamant about keeping her facing this way, making her look at the image of destruction in front of her. "I know what you want, what you need, my dear. Shall I give it to you?" Emet-Selch murmurs into her ear. His fingers trail over her collarbones, and for a moment, they feel almost playful before they move higher and wrap around her throat. "You feel so very broken, and you always did, isn't that right?" His breath is hot against the shell of her ear. "That is why you never say what you truly want, never show anyone what lies behind the facade. You think the people around you are too good to deal with someone like you, like you would taint them with your imperfection."

Chloe's eyes are wide, locked onto the ageless painting of a burning sky as she tries to swallow against his grip on her throat. The words he says are painfully sharp, cutting her with their inherent truth and making her flinch from how much she doesn't want to admit any of this out loud. Emet-Selch's other hand slides down her clothes, cupping her breast through the fabric, squeezing lightly. 

"Face it, my dear, you're not cut out to be their shining hero," he says in a low voice before he starts leaving disarmingly soft kisses along her neck. "Maybe that's why you don't feel like you need to hide who you really are when you're with me."

Her breath hitches as she flinches like she has been burnt, and her hands fly up to pull his arm away from her neck.

"Emet-Selch," Chloe starts shakily, only to be cut off with a wheeze as he tightens his hold and cuts off her air.

"Shhh, hush now," he murmurs, completely ignoring her feeble attempt to break free. "This is why you like me being rough with you, why you enjoy it when I tell you what to do - you think you deserve it."

He lets go of her chest to snap his fingers once, and a second later, Chloe shivers as the nightly breeze going through the cave hits her now completely naked skin. Emet-Selch lessens his hold around her neck enough so she can draw in air, but the moment she wants to speak, all that leaves her lips is a low moan when she feels him warm against her back, for the first time without layers upon layers of fabric between them. Instead, she finds herself pressed against his naked chest, and the sensation is enough to make her lose track of her thoughts for a moment.

"You think you deserve some sort of punishment for letting them all down, don't you?" He bites down on the lobe of her ear, hard enough to make her gasp even under his painfully tight grip. "Go on then," he encourages her once more. "Ask me for what you truly want."

Everything about this situation has her wholly unsettled, thrown off, and confused. She is not supposed to feel any of the things he just called her out for, and yet Chloe is painfully aware that he is at least partly right. She never felt like she deserved the praise heaped upon her for doing her duty. Never felt like she could live up to the expectations set. And yes, maybe he even has a point about the reasons why Chloe never lets any of her friends know about how she feels about this most of the time. He has been spot on with many of his claims about her, so perhaps he is right about this last thing too. Maybe what she truly craves is some sort of punishment, someone holding her accountable for her failure. And who better to come to for something like this than her sworn enemy? 

"Please, Emet-Selch," she murmurs softly and with her cheeks feeling hot in embarrassment. 

"Please, what?"

His voice sounds perfectly innocent, and for the moment, Chloe is nothing but glad that she can't see his face, knowing full well what pleased expression she would find. Her eyes are still captivated by the flaming mural when she bits her lower lip before forcing the words to fall from her lips.

"Make it hurt."

Behind her, Chloe hears a soft laugh. 

"It won't change anything, my dear. It won't give you the absolution or the forgiveness you seek."

Despite his whispered words, his grip on her tightens, a hand slips into her hair and pulls roughly, forcing her head to the side. When Chloe instinctively tries to pull away from the pain, his other hand comes down hard on the inside of her thigh. The sound of the slap echoes through the cave, joined by a small scream that falls from her lips. It's more from shock at the sudden action than from the severity of the pain as Chloe tries to make sense of his contradictory actions and words.

"You just said..." she starts, only to be cut off by her own whimper as he does it again, this time with an added sting as he lets his nails dig into her flesh right after.

"Well, that doesn't mean I won't enjoy doing this to you regardless," he says with a low growl against her ear before he leaves a set of deep scratches on her thigh, holding her tightly against him as she flinches under the touch. "Much like your fear, the pain I can give you doesn't stop you from wanting this, wanting me." He draws in a deep breath before he adds with a whisper, "It's intoxicating."

Emet-Selch sounds incredibly satisfied by that, and Chloe can't argue with his assessment, knowing he is right yet again. She has the dangerous suspicion that there is very little he could do that would make her actually want to run away from this. One of his hands slips between her legs, and she knows he finds her dripping with need for him, despite all this. Or maybe because of it. It doesn't even matter that they are on the floor in the middle of an abandoned cave, not when he tugs roughly at her hair again and bites her shoulder hard enough that she knows it will leave a mark. And somehow, that is the moment she can feel the last of her inhibitions fall away, and she moans blatantly, no longer caring that her voice carries on the air as her hands scramble for purchase and desperately reach behind her to hold on to his thighs.

"More!"

It's only one word, and it's quiet, but even like this, it sounds like a demand. Emet-Selch chuckles again, and Chloe knows with absolute certainty he is going to give her exactly what she asks for.

Chapter Text

"More!"

"Of course, you want more, you always do," Emet-Selch murmurs against the shell of her ear. His fingers dig into her flesh, and he still holds her head in a tight grip, not letting her look away from the mural even for a moment. "And here you are, having denied yourself most of life's pleasures for the longest time, but not anymore."

His words only spark the fire already burning within her. Not anymore. She wants everything he dangles in front of her, in whatever way he deems fit to give. Chloe knows it's only a matter of time and that he is most likely enjoying drawing this out, but patience isn't her strong suit, especially not as worked up as she already is.

"Please," she repeats with a needy whimper, trying to urge him on, yet he remains unbearably slow. Emet-Selch is unhurried, but his touches aren't gentle as he turns her in his arms and pushes her down to the floor. The ground is hard and rough against her skin. Somehow, in her naive notions of doing this with anyone, Chloe had always imagined being in a bed for the first time. Yet this feels strangely fitting. Lying like this in front of him, he towers over her even more so than he usually does. Emet-Selch grabs her hips and pulls until he has her where he wants her to be before his hands run over her thighs, spreading her open for him. Each touch is hard enough to bruise, and when he moves her, the ground scrapes against her skin. Chloe knows he is leaving marks all over her body, but nothing about this bothers her. On the contrary, when he grabs her so hard that she hisses in pain, it's exhilarating, having her on the verge of asking for even more.

When Emet-Selch had asked her if it was punishment she was after, Chloe hadn't been sure. She still isn't, but one thing she is certain of is that all of this makes it a lot easier to stop thinking about anything that happened earlier this day, and for now, that is more than enough for her.

His hand is in her hair, pulling until she bears her throat to him. Chloe has felt powerless before, utterly helpless even, but somehow, when he makes her feel this way, it's nothing but terribly arousing, making her moan in his grasp. Emet-Selch's golden eyes almost seem to glow as he looks down at her like this.

"Don't worry, hero," he says with a promising smile. "I will give you exactly what you need."

A moment later, he lifts his hand and slaps her hard across the face, and Chloe gasps in shock. Despite asking him to hurt her, this is somehow not at all what she expected. But the pain feels just right, like the other slaps before, and her shocked whine turns into a blatant moan as he does it again.

His hands are hard and unrelenting when he slaps her breasts and cutting when he scratches over the sensitive and still throbbing skin right after. When he pulls the hardened tip of her breast between his lips, it only feels soft for a second before he bites down. He pinches her other nipple harshly between two fingers, not letting up until that, too, coaxes a cry from her. Not once does she try to flinch away from any of this. There is pain in every touch, but it is not all that is there, and she knows she wants even more. His nails scratch over the soft skin of her stomach and dig into her hips right after when he grabs her again. Emet-Selch is almost methodical in the way he slowly moves down her body, making sure he leaves a visible trail of his stinging affection behind. He twists skin under his fingers until she arches her back and cries out, and Chloe herself doesn't even know anymore if it's from pain or pleasure. It's almost a little confusing just how much his treatment of her has her aroused like never before. He spreads her legs wider apart, and a moment later, he leans over, and she feels his teeth sink into her thigh. Sharp, uncompromising, and there is no confusion this time. She yelps in pain as he bites hard enough Chloe thinks he might be breaking skin. And still, she finds herself wanting this with an intensity so overwhelming it almost scares her a little. 

Two of his fingers push easily through her soaked folds, turning her pained whimpers into moans in a heartbeat as she tries to shift her hips for even more. Emet-Selch is ever ready to give her that. His fingers inside her are rough, but they hit just the right spots, 

"Tell me what you want once more, my dear," he demands, and Chloe knows that at any other time, she would have died from shame asking for what she wants, but right now, it is clear that dying from need is far more likely if she doesn't.

"Fuck me! Please, I need you."

And then his cock drags through her folds, and Chloe gasps, looking at him with pleading eyes. She has never wanted anything in her life quite like this, and the anticipation alone is already nearly too much to bear.

"I'd say I'd go slow, make sure not to hurt you, but you and I both know you don't want me to," Emet-Selch murmurs with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and her breath goes faster in the knowledge that he is absolutely right about that. No part of her wants to be treated gently right now, and the way he so clearly enjoys roughing her up is intoxicating all by itself. She knows he is enjoying all this, it's clearly visible on his face. Each time he makes her flinch, there is an incredibly pleased smile on his lips. When he slaps her, and she only wants more, his eyes gleam with satisfaction. There is far more to this than simply giving her what she wants, Chloe realizes. He enjoys hurting her as much as he enjoys watching her pleasure, and she doesn't dare to think too deeply about what that might mean. It cannot be anything good, she suspects, but then again, as long as they both enjoy the same thing, maybe the why doesn't matter.

Emet-Selch gives her no warning before he suddenly shifts. His hand twists into her hair, pulling roughly as he pushes inside her, not stopping and not going slow until he's sheathed all the way to the hilt. Chloe's back arches and her lips fall open in a quiet cry. She can't even tell if he hurts her or simply completely overwhelms her, all she knows is that it's exactly what she wants, exactly what she needs.

Nothing of what she imagined sex might be like has her prepared for this. For the way he makes her feel so full and for the way the low growl he lets out when he is all the way inside her makes him sound possessive and demanding. And yet no part of Chloe regrets having waited this long for any of this. It had to be him; she knows that now. Him and no one else. And then her ability to hold a coherent thought falls apart when he starts to move.

Emet-Selch's teeth are back at her neck, leaving sharp bites in their wake as he starts thrusting into her at a pace that is downright demanding. She didn't want him to go slow or be overly careful with her, and he gives her exactly what she asked for. Each thrust into her has her bare back scrape across the hard ground, contrasting the pleasure he bestows on her with tiny sparks of pain. Her fingers dig into the ground in a futile attempt to hold on to something, and from the way he smiles at the pained gasps between her moans, Emet-Selch is completely aware of this. He drinks in her reaction as he snaps his hips harder. After a few deep thrusts, he grabs one of Chloe's legs and flips it over his shoulder, bending her nearly in half when he fucks her even deeper. There is something in his eyes that looks as desperate for this as she feels, despite his outwardly controlling and measured behavior. Like he can no more stop himself from giving in to this than Chloe can, and her hand makes it into his hair, pulling as roughly as he treats her until he gets what else she needs. Seconds later, his lips crash against hers, and Emet-Selch kisses her almost violently. He devours her, swallows every noise she makes, and when he bites her lower lip in the process, Chloe feels something in her burst.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he can unravel her, especially with these kinds of touches, but Chloe shudders and shivers, desperately clinging to him as she comes nearly completely without warning. It feels different like this, with him moving inside her and holding her so incredibly close. Different than the times she had done this on her own and even different from the day before when he had whisked her away. He doesn't stop, keeps fucking her through the waves of pleasure running through her body, drawing it out until her eyes tear up. It's so overwhelming that she almost wants to beg him to stop, but at the same time, Chloe wishes it would never end.

Without stopping, Emet-Selch tilts her head back, letting his thumb catch a single tear on her cheek. "The look of both pain and pleasure on your face intoxicating, but your tears..." He makes her lean back even further as he smears the drop over her skin with a low groan. "They are even sweeter when I alone am responsible for them."

"You like seeing me cry?" she whispers between shudders and moans. 

She sounds surprised, but the more she thinks about it, the more Chloe realizes that she shouldn't be, that this isn't at all out of character for him. If it catches her off-guard, that is on her, at least after he had told her in no unclear terms to have no false expectations for him, to not make him into a better person in her mind than he is. It seems like she still can't help herself, but maybe it simply doesn't matter anymore, and with a sigh, her eyes fall shut. Something about this simple fact chills her to the bone, and at the same time, it makes her want even more. When she opens her eyes again, and he uses that moment to bend her even further and fill her just a little bit deeper, part of her feels almost strangely elated to see the desire raging in his eyes. Emet-Selch may have had an easy time making her beg and plead for him, but for once, Chloe can clearly see something he wants from her, something she can give him freely in return. 

She digs her own nails into her thigh, not stopping until it starts to really hurt, until she can't help herself, and more tears spring to her eyes. Emet-Selch's reaction is instant. With a low growl, he twists her head to the side until he can lick a trail of tears from her cheek.

"Look at you being so good for me." The roughness in his voice sends another shiver through her as he pushes deep into her again, letting his hands wander over her chest, teasing her breasts, both with deceptively gentle touches and harsh pinches alike, before he suddenly pulls away. His eyes are filled with hunger as he licks his lips. "Get up and turn around, on your hands and knees for me!"

Her mind is still buzzing with pleasure as she pushes herself up, feeling the way her skin stings in the places he has scratched her and where she has hurt herself for him. When she turns over, she feels her body ache with every move, but it doesn't stop her, doesn't even slow her down. It's almost a bit bizarre just how much she is enjoying this. All her life Chloe has tried her best to avoid any sort of danger wherever she could, always in fear of consequences. In battle, she is terrified about getting hurt every single time, yet here, with Emet-Selch, she wants him to do just that and more. Her heart starts beating faster when the brief thought about battle reminds her of something else.

With the most inviting smile she can come up with, Chloe looks back at him over her shoulder. Her knees and one hand are enough to keep her balance, and she lifts the other hand and summons the most basic concept of healing magic, letting it swirl in shades of blue and green around her fingers as she gives him a knowing look.

"Already had enough to give up?" he comments with a raised brow. "That was rather quick, though maybe not entirely unexpected."

Chloe shakes her head with determination, letting the magic flare up but deliberately not channeling it towards any of her many small injuries.

"Just wanting to let you know that you really don't need to hold back," she murmurs, a bit surprised by her own bravery as she finds his eyes. "I can always fix it if you break something. It's the one thing I'm good at." 

With that, she lets the magic dissipate again, and she can see Emet-Selch's eyes narrowing and his smile widening as he considers her meaning. A moment later, he drags her hips close. He enters her in one smooth thrust again, and his other hand is between her shoulder blades, pushing her down towards the rough ground. His arms are left and right from her as he leans over her back and cages her in.

"You cannot help wanting to please people, can you, my dear?" he murmurs next to her ear, and Chloe swallows heavily.

"I want this," she declares, shivering under his touch when Emet-Selch lets out a chuckle.

"You want some pain, some roughness with your pleasure, but that suggestion? I think you are getting a good idea of what I want, isn't that so?" Something dangerously exciting hovers in his voice as he goes on. "Would you let me tear into you, let me make you suffer purely to satisfy my own desires, I wonder?" One of his hands finds its way into her hair again, and he uses his grip to pull hard enough she is forced to tilt her head back. "Would you let me have my way with you however roughly I wanted and then heal yourself after so I could do it all over again?"

Emet-Selch sounds terrifying when he speaks like this, with a low growl in his throat and a harsh grip filled with tension on her body that lets her know that he isn't just saying anything to get a reaction from her - that this is a genuine question. A question that almost terrifies her when she realizes how eagerly she wants to say yes to whatever he might demand from her just so he continues what he is doing right now. Her hesitation tells him much, and the kisses he leaves along the line of her shoulder are both invitingly warm and foreboding. 

"Such generosity," he murmurs, with unabashed approval in his voice before he adds with a whisper, "Perhaps I'll find out how far is too far with you, hero." 

He sounds ominous, but it doesn't impact the way she strains under his touch and yearns for him to move. In a way, the uncertainty and the promise of danger only heighten all she is already feeling. Despite having already come, this back and forth between them has her right back at being worked up and yearning for more. Emet-Selch has slowed down a little bit, but he hasn't stopped moving, and something about this position, of being under him on hands and knees, only adds to the excitement. 

He shifts slightly, and then he leans back up, but before Chloe can bemoan the loss of closeness, his hand wraps around her throat. She gasps in shock as the touch goes from slight teasing to straight-up threatening in an instant as he yanks her back against him by the neck. Her hands lose their grasp on the ground as he forces her to arch her back. He pulls her almost upright, and instinctively they fly up to wrap around his arm, pulling in an attempt to loosen his hold enough so she can breathe.

"There is something I want from you right now, Chloe," he whispers hotly against her ear, and she forces herself to stop panicking and listen. As if to reward her compliance, he lets up just enough so she can drag in some air. "I want you to give me complete control. Like this." His fingers flex around her neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly. "Nod, if you understand," he prompts her, and she swallows against his hold before she moves her head up and down. It matches what she wants, after all, for him to take the reins.

"Good girl," Emet-Selch praises her again. "That means you don't struggle, you don't resist, no matter what I do," he tells her in a low voice. "Push back, and this is over."

Everything in Chloe goes tense at that from the sudden fear that he might simply end this, and she does her best to nod again. Emet-Selch presses a kiss against the soft skin behind her ear, and Chloe could swear his lips feel like he's smiling against her. When he starts to move, he cuts off her air again, and she has to wrestle down the urge to resist. It's a struggle in itself, fighting off her own survival instinct while he simultaneously floods her with such conflicting emotions. She can hear how absolutely soaking wet she is from arousal for him each time Emet-Selch thrusts into her, hitting just the right spot to make her moan shamelessly, if she could make any noise, that is. The lack of air makes her light-headed, feeling like she is floating when he lifts her almost entirely off him by her neck alone.

"You know, from a heroic point of view, letting me have you like this is incredibly stupid, my dear," he growls against her ear just as he roughly yanks her back onto his cock. "But since being a hero really isn't your strength, I have something far better for you to be."

His teeth dig into her shoulder again, a different spot this time, and even the pain from that feels different. Muted somehow as Chloe balls her hands into fists to keep herself from accidentally trying to pry him off her. Then his teeth bite the lobe of her ear, and she gives up trying to discern where pain ends, and pleasure starts when he whispers, "Mine!"

Chloe is lucky that no sound makes it across her lips, that the way he cuts off her air keeps her from speaking. Otherwise, there would be an embarrassing stream of moans and desperate assurances falling from her lips, telling him yes and begging him not to stop. It's what she has always been looking for - a sense of belonging. Only when she had yearned for something in her dreams, she had always assumed it to be a place. Never before did she entertain the thought of it being another person instead. But right now, right here, Chloe feels like she belongs, and it's more powerful than she could ever have imagined.

She feels like she is on the verge of bursting, of falling apart into so many pieces they can never be put together again. Her eyes flutter shut as the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears gets louder. She tries to hold on, locked in her struggle to stay calm, while the lack of air has her close to falling unconscious. She can feel her body go lax in his hold, unable to keep this up any longer, and she opens her mouth, but his bruising grip around her throat lets nothing escape, no air, and no sound. Just as she almost drifts completely away, she feels his hand between her legs, teasing her just the slightest bit, and suddenly, Chloe can breathe again. Her eyes fly open as she heaves for air, nearly choking on her own breath when his fingers move just right, and she comes harder than ever before.

Behind her, Emet-Selch whispers something into her ear she can't make sense of as he speeds up and joins her with a deep groan, filling her with his hot seed. The sensation mixes seamlessly with her own release that seems to stretch out forever, and for a moment, Chloe has trouble seeing clearly, her whole body tingling as she still desperately gulps in mouthfuls of air. This time it's her own rapid breathing that has her almost light-headed again until Emet-Selch shifts her in his arms, and a hand rests on her chest, warm and soothing as he holds her in a calming embrace.

Her mind is blissfully empty for a moment, still floating on the high as she clings to him. It's dark around her for some reason, and it takes a little while until Chloe realizes that her eyes are closed when her breath starts to even out. Her entire body hurts, and at the same time, she feels pleasantly tired like never before. What she has just done feels far too big to really think about with how worn out she is right now, but one thing nags at the back of her mind.

"I need to clean myself up," she murmurs, barely able to open her eyes. "What if someone looks for me..."

Emet-Selch moves against her. He's chuckling, she realizes a moment later before she feels his lips against her forehead.

"Shh," he soothes her. "I won't leave you lying around in the wilderness. Give me a little bit more credit."

He keeps moving, standing up, Chloe realizes, without putting her down, and suddenly, everything around them feels incredibly surreal for a moment. She tries to open her eyes again, but when she finally manages, it makes no difference. Around her is nothing but darkness, and then he puts her down on something incredibly soft. She tries to sit up, but hands on her shoulders press her down against what feels like the most comfortable mattress she has ever lain on. Chloe is too exhausted to make sense of any of this, but as she lies on soft sheets, warmly cradled in Emet-Selch's arms, his hands running over her skin in gentle caresses, she can't help but wonder about the contrast to earlier. This is so vastly different from the hard floor in the cave and his rough touches. 

"You're an Ascian," she whispers with a slight smile on her lips. "And yet you didn't actually hurt me."

"I have hurt you plenty, my dear," Emet-Selch replies with a disbelieving huff before her lets his fingers graze over the deep bite on her thigh, making the leg twitch from how much it stings when he presses even just lightly down on her bruised skin.

"Oh, not like that," Chloe murmurs, trying to explain her thoughts. It's difficult with being half asleep already. "I meant you didn't hurt me in the way I thought you would."

There are other things, far worse than physical injuries, after all, and she is sure that with his vast knowledge and power, he is aware of them all. Chloe thinks she can hear a disbelieving chuckle, but she is too tired and too far gone to react when he whispers, "Oh dear, just give it time..."

Chapter Text

Chloe has no idea how much time has passed when she slowly wakes up. She's still in a bed, if the incredible softness around her is any indication. It's mostly dark around her, and it takes her a while to slowly find her bearings. Emet-Selch's chest is warm against her back, the only movement being the slow breaths he takes, and Chloe realizes he is asleep next to her. Somehow this little fact, more than anything else, drives home just how surreal this whole situation is. She has run away from everything she has ever known and everything that made her feel safe. She slept with the enemy, and not just that, she had begged him on her knees to hurt her and let him take her someplace unknown after. She had fallen asleep in the arms of an Ascian, of all people, and now she lies in what is undoubtedly the most comfortable bed she has ever been in, and one of the most powerful beings she knows to even exist is asleep next to her, a comforting arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him.

It sounds and feels utterly ridiculous.

There is no place she'd rather be.

Chloe smiles softly to herself at the realization that even when considering all this, her heart doesn't beat faster in fear - only in excitement. It's nerve-wracking, this situation she got herself in, but only in the best way possible. Here, with him, Chloe doesn't think about what she is supposed to do or what she failed at. All she thinks about is what she wants. It all seems so close and within her reach somehow. 

'Mine!'

Chloe watches his arm curled around her, holding her close against him, and she remembers the way his voice had sounded when saying that. The slight growl, his grip tightening - it had been overwhelming. There had been something deeply personal, feral, and possessive in his every word and action, and she can't help but shiver at the memory. It doesn't matter that she isn't supposed to want this, not when everything about it feels so right.

When she shifts slightly in his embrace, her whole body groans in protest. There is a sheet flung over both of them, covering most of her, but Chloe can still see the bruises on her arms, and she can feel the many scrapes and marks he has left on every part of her. When she swallows, she feels a lingering trace of pain around her neck, where he had choked her until she nearly fell unconscious. Almost out of reflex, she summons her healing magic again. It wouldn't take long to get rid of the lingering pain at all. She has a feeling that she probably looks worse than she did after most battles she's been in. But unlike those times, she doesn't feel bad at all. Her body is aching, and yet Chloe doesn't want to erase a single thing about the night before. And once again, her magic dissipates without her using it as she relaxes back into Emet-Selch's embrace.

For a few moments, she just lets her eyes fall closed again. In the back of her mind, some part of her simply insists that it would be appropriate to be at least a little bit worried. She has no idea where exactly she is, after all, and she is literally in bed with her enemy. It should ring every alarm bell, but instead, Chloe only feels strangely content. It is curious that after spending most of her life in a near-constant state of worry, to a point where her friends playfully commented about her being afraid of her own shadow, this isn't more unsettling. But no matter how often she tries to remind herself that it should be, it doesn't change anything. Right now, Chloe isn't afraid at all. If anything, she finds herself curious. About where he has taken her and about what might happen next.

She shifts in his arms, slowly turning around, and finds Emet-Selch still fast asleep. It's almost a bit surprising to her to see him looking so... normal . And seemingly not worried at all about letting his guard down around her. Then again, Chloe can't be certain if he actually has anything to fear from her. Part of her doubts that it is the case, no matter his quips about her being a famous Ascian slayer. Both of them know that her reputation isn't because of her martial prowess. No, if anything, she is vastly at a disadvantage here. She can't even see further into the room, her vision seems to become unfocused around the parts where the bed ends, and she can't make out even a single thing beyond. Around them is nothing but darkness. No windows as far as she can tell, and no flickering line of light on the floor indicating a door of any kind. The thought of getting out of the comfort of this bed and going exploring, finding out what else is out there, is a weird mix of intriguing and strangely unsettling. 

No, when considering it, Chloe doesn't want to leave, and she has no urge to put any distance between them. It's rather the opposite, she realizes. Last night she had been overwhelmed and distracted, but now she actually has the chance and the time to look at him. Emet-Selch looks different when his eyes are closed, and his face is relaxed. Without thought, she reaches out and lets her hand brush against his cheek. He doesn't stir, and she finds herself utterly fascinated by simply touching him like this. Chloe never really had the chance to do so before, she realizes. Just as she has never seen the lines on his forehead even out. For once, there isn't a permanent frown etched onto his face, and it makes him look years younger somehow. Not that it means anything for an immortal being inhabiting a borrowed body, Chloe realizes a moment later, but it is still fascinating to watch. 

Another thing that throws her almost a little bit off is the fact that this is the first time she actually sees Emet-Selch without him wearing his usual attire. Despite their many quite personal encounters before this, he had never even taken off a single piece of clothing through all that. Now he is as naked as she is, and her throat runs a little dry as she lets her eyes wander. Chloe's fingers twitch with the desire to run her hands all over him, to find out how he feels against her skin. She hadn't gotten a lot of opportunities to do so last night, not with how thoroughly he had kept her both occupied and distracted. She hadn't even had a decent chance to look at him until now. A heated spark of desire runs through her as she shifts a little closer, only to feel how hard he is against her stomach, and like before, the need surging through her body makes her bold. Without thinking too much about it, Chloe lifts the sheet covering them both and carefully moves down. 

He is hot and firm under her tentative touch, slightly twitching in her grasp when she holds on a little bit tighter. Emet-Selch shifts a little, tension going through his body, and Chloe suspects he is about to wake up. Whatever remained of her hesitation falls away, and she leans forward, licking over the tip of his cock. The reaction is instant. She hears Emet-Selch let out a low moan as she opens her mouth further and takes him inside. He lies heavy against her tongue; his smell, the way he tastes, and feeling how hard he is in her mouth blend together into a heady combination, coaxing a small moan from Chloe herself as she tries to take him in deeper. She has only ever done this once before, and it had been under his guidance, but once she lets go of the fear of doing something wrong, she finds it remarkably easy to let instinct guide her. Tightening her lips around him gets her a reaction, as does letting her tongue dip into the slit at the head of his cock. Little by little, she figures out what he enjoys, and the knowledge that she is responsible for every moan he makes and every drop that spills from his cock has her press her legs together in arousal.

The sheet lifts a little, and then his fingers run through her hair. He doesn't grab her or nudge her in any way, not this time, but his nails scrape over her scalp, sending a shiver down her spine. When Chloe tilts her head a little to peer up at him, she sees Emet-Selch leaning on his elbow, watching her intently.

"Look at that," he murmurs, his voice still low and filled with the remnants of sleep. "Still so very eager."

She is, Chloe knows. Yesterday, Emet-Selch had made it impossible for her to focus on anything but his touch, but now she finds herself yearning for the opportunity to not just react but actually initiate what she wants for once. There had been a hint of mockery in his voice the night before when he had called her out on still wanting to please people, and Chloe knows that to a certain degree, he is right about that. Having him twitch in her mouth and hearing him moan when she bobs her head has her exhilarated. But it's not just the act of giving pleasure, she realizes, but rather the knowledge of her, Chloe, being the reason for his bliss. The idea of being responsible for even the slightest sound of pleasure falling from his lips is intoxicating.

"You like me being eager," she points out. Chloe is a little breathless, holding him while she draws her head back enough to speak, and when she glances at him, there is a wide grin on his face.

"Of course," he replies like it's the most natural thing. "If you could see yourself as I do right now..." Emet-Selch lets out a groan as he says this, and she takes him into her mouth again. "Those pretty lips of yours wrapped around my cock, all while your soul is brightly burning from desire - you, my dear, are a feast for all the senses."

The compliment has her shiver and moving a little faster, and at her increased efforts, Emet-Selch's hand in her hair becomes a bit more firm.

"Your eagerness is very attractive, and your soul is almost straining itself in your desire for yet more," he murmurs as he pats her hair. "You want to please so desperately, but you are also brimming with need." His voice gets a little darker as his fingers twitch against her head. "Would you like to give me even more?" 

The hint of promise in his words has her look back up at him, eyes wide with desire. She doesn't draw back this time, but her eyes are locked with his as she gives a little nod as best as she can around his cock.

The hand in her hair turns hard, grabbing her firmly as he shifts his hips and tilts her head at the same time. And then he pushes further into her mouth, deeper and deeper, grazing the back of her throat and not stopping. Chloe gags, trying her best to relax as he slowly, methodically, forces his cock down her throat. It hurts a little when he pushes past all her resistance, and fresh tears spring into her eyes from the way she strains around the intrusion, but it's the realization that he is, once more, taking away her ability to breathe that has her eyes nearly fluttering shut from the intense wave of arousal rushing through her. For the second time in a single night, Chloe puts her life in his hands, and part of her is terrified at the notion, but like before, the mere thought of simply handing over the reins to him holds an overwhelming appeal. Chloe isn't even entirely sure if part of her just really likes the danger inherent in this or if there is a treacherous other side that somehow trusts him enough not to do any lasting harm. Neither idea is very flattering, she knows. The first one implies she has lost her mind, while the second one means she is plainly being stupid, and yet none of these deliberations weigh enough to stop her. 

Emet-Selch isn't stopping either. His grip on her hair is hard, and he moves unrelenting, further and further into her mouth and down her throat until the pressure feels too much - and still, he pushes for more. Chloe makes a muffled sound of fear as he pulls her fully onto his cock, until her lips are around the base and her nose presses into his stomach.

"Good girl," Emet-Selch mutters fondly from above her as he holds her in place. His free hand pats her hair before it slides lower, fingers trailing over her face and down her neck. He pushes against the bulge of his cock in her throat, and Chloe's whole body shakes as she convulses around him. Like the night before, she starts to feel lightheaded, but before the corners of her eyes begin to turn dark, he lets up and pulls her back. Not all the way out of her mouth but enough so she can gulp in air.

"You can give me more, can't you?" Emet-Selch encourages her, and with a low groan, Chloe nods around his length. The hand in her hair tightens, and she takes in a sharp breath before he takes her ability to do so away again. This time he's not quite as careful, sliding down her throat faster than before. "Swallow," he tells her, holding her in place, and Chloe struggles to follow that demand. It isn't easy, taking her a few attempts, but when she does, Emet-Selch lets out another deep moan. "Yes, just like that. Keep going," he murmurs encouragingly. He finds a rhythm, letting her breathe just in time whenever she feels it almost gets too much, moving her up and down his cock and holding her in place to have her swallow around him ever so often. And each time he holds her tightly against him, Chloe finds it a little bit easier to let go, to no longer worry if what she is doing is right or even if her next breath will come in time. Like this, it's somehow remarkably simple to let him guide her and leave all concerns about what she is supposed to do behind.

Almost without any conscious thought, her hand sneaks between her legs, touching herself in tune with the way he moves her. Something about this, about the idea of Emet-Selch using her like this, has her as aroused as the night before, moaning softly around him whenever she has the air to do so. When he finally speeds up, the hand in her hair tugs harshly, and he comes with a deep, low moan down her throat, holding her tightly against him. It's almost a little bit too much, her head getting hazy and her eyes feeling heavy from how long he doesn't let her breathe before he finally pulls back and slips out of her mouth. Chloe gulps down air, spluttering and coughing from the abruptness, but she has little time to find her bearings or any sense of calm again before Emet-Selch suddenly grabs her, pulling her up and flipping her over until she lies on her back beneath him.

"Still not too far, hm?" he asks with a knowing look, and a shiver runs through her entire body before she shakes her head.

It should be, shouldn't it? Chloe can't help thinking that what she feels isn't appropriate. That it cannot be decent by any definition. She hardly recognizes herself like this. Chloe has never been daring or reckless before in her life, and yet here she is, in this strange place that just might be somewhere outside reality, strangely tempted to abandon everything she's learned to hold dear. And she can't tell if this is all Emet-Selch's doing, if he has played some elaborate and well-concealed trick on her, or if she truly isn't the person she thought she was. Does he bring something out in her that has always been there, slumbering beneath the surface, or is he changing her, turning her into someone else? Chloe wishes there was a way she could be sure. 

The problem is that everything he has been doing to her feels far too good, even if it should make her recoil and run away. She doesn't want to stop, not even for a moment to take a deep breath. And then it leaves her wondering if the distinction even matters. Does she even care if this is something inherent to her or if he nudged her onto a brand new path when the result is that she feels better than ever before in any case? Would it matter if he manipulated things given the outcome? Chloe has the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't. Not for her, and not after this. She may not know where to go from here, but she knows for sure that something has changed, and things won't go back to the way they were for her.

"Is it bravery or recklessness, I wonder?" Emet-Selch murmurs as he lets his eyes wander over her. Her hand is still tightly pressed between her legs, and with a smile, he takes her wrist and guides her fingers to his lips. Languidly he draws them into his mouth, licking the taste of her desire off them before he adds, "Do you even know yourself?"

The question is uncomfortable, given that Chloe can only shake her head in denial. She has no clue, still unsure if one answer would be better than the other. It would be hard to answer under normal circumstances, but right now, she feels like she is burning up with desire. Her throat hurts. It's a strangely pleasant reminder of what he just made her do, and at this moment, she wants nothing more than to take her hand back and finish what she started, but when she tries, Emet-Selch doesn't let her go.

"Does it matter?" she finally asks, and her voice sounds surprisingly challenging, even to herself.

"Perhaps it does, perhaps it doesn't." Emet-Selch's reply comes with a shrug before he suddenly shifts and pins her down beneath him.

"It's terribly unfair, isn't it?" he murmurs as he kisses a trail along her neck. "Your friends, your scions, they gave you all this responsibility, all these expectations... And then they lie to you."

Chloe blinks, momentarily floored by the abrupt change of topic, but at the same time, she gasps under his touch. The sensations of feeling his weight on top of her, holding her down, and the soft trail his mouth leaves on her now almost manage to completely distract her from what he actually said. Almost. Through the haze of sensations, Chloe manages to frown.

"They want to protect me," she protests, sighing a little as Emet-Selch's teeth scrape over her throat.

"They want you to do what they can't," he counters with a low chuckle before he suddenly leans back, looking down at her with piercing eyes. "Do you think your Exarch forcing you into this world had anything to do with protecting you ?"

She swallows, unable to dismiss what he says entirely. Not when his words make her uneasy in the realization that he does seem to have a point. People might assist and protect her in battle to make sure she doesn't get hurt, but there is a point to be made that Chloe wouldn't need protection at all if no one expected her to fight in the first place. 

"Someone has to do it," she argues timidly. "Someone has to help people!"

"And why does it have to be you, of all the ones who could?"

Another question she has asked herself many a time before. Chloe had never managed to find a truly satisfying answer. 

"Why you," Emet-Selch asks again, sounding uncomfortably insistent when she doesn't answer. He bends down and lets his teeth graze over her collarbones this time. 

"I want to help people," Chloe argues between sighs. It isn't a lie, it never has been. Helping others had always been a driving force behind everything she did in her life, and it's not something she regrets or wishes was different. "I just don't... I hate -" She snaps her mouth shut, suddenly gripped by fear of what has almost slipped out, but Emet-Selch does not seem inclined to let her get away with it.

"Such a strong word for someone who is afraid to even curse," he murmurs before his hand slides down her chest and a finger runs teasingly around the tip of her breast. "Come on, my dear, no need to be shy now. Tell me how you feel." His voice is low, inviting, and so full of promise. "Tell me what you hate!"

Part of her wants to, relishes at the thought of getting some things off her chest. Chloe remembers that time in Il Mheg when she had completely lost her composure for a moment, and even though the thought still makes her blush, she also remembers how strangely freeing telling him all that had felt. But back then, she had lost her temper, blurting things out before she could think better of it. Now the situation is different, and Chloe doesn't even know if she could manage to find the right words to say what she truly feels. Lying beneath him with his eyes burning into her has her feeling uncomfortably self-conscious again.

Emet-Selch's eyes turn calculating, for a moment making him look eerily cold before the spark of amusement is back, and the corner of his lips twitches in the slightest hint of a smile.

"Tell me, Chloe." There it is again, her name and the way he makes it sound so enticing. His voice is low, and he speaks quietly but with an undeniable aura of demand as his hands run down her sides and he himself shifts downwards. He grabs her hips and pushes her further up the bed before his hands are on her thighs, spreading them apart. "Tell me all the little things you guard so well, my dear," he murmurs, and Chloe barely dares to breathe as his hot breath goes over her stomach. "Tell me everything you feel, all the things no one else knows about you." With a look that is nothing but sinful, he lets his tongue dart out and drag across her folds. "Tell me your deepest secrets, and you can be sure I will reward you."

Chapter Text

"Tell me your deepest secrets, and you can be sure I will reward you."

Chloe can barely process what she wants with her mind hazy from lust. Emet-Selch has touched her before, but not like this. This is something entirely new to her yet again, and for a moment, she loses her ability to speak as she holds her breath, watching him between her legs. His fingers draw her folds apart, and a garbled moan leaves her as his tongue curls around her clit. The sensation is simultaneously softer and much more intense than her own hand ever was. Chloe can't help but buck her hips against him on instinct, letting out a noise of protest when he moves away.

"Hold still," Emet-Selch chides her, and then one of his hands grabs her hips and makes sure she doesn't move. With the other, he still holds her open for him, and when his tongue is back, licking and teasing her most sensitive part, her eyes nearly roll back into her head.

She tries to hold on to her thoughts, wondering how in the world he expects her to tell him anything while doing this. Part of her expects him to stop at any second to coax what he wants to know from her lips, but to her utter relief, he just keeps going. Chloe's hands twist into the sheets as her whole body strains, yearning to grind herself even more into his touch, but Emet-Selch doesn't let her. His hand on her hips is unyielding, making sure she can't move. His tongue shifts between soft licks and flicking against her roughly, his lips tighten, and then he moans against her deeply, sending entirely new sensations through her. 

Chloe's muscles twitch, and her whole body tenses. Never before has she been on the brink of release quite this quickly, and his name falls from her lips in a needy moan and desperate plea alike. Of course, that's when Emet-Selch doesn't comply. Instead, he seems determined to not let her have what she wants right away. His tongue slides lower, dipping inside her. He lets out another moan as he tastes her, and Chloe blushes furiously at the mere thought. This is something she's only ever read about but feeling him move against her now has her certain she never wants him to stop again.

Emet-Selch licks a broad stripe back up, his tongue and lips closing around her clit once more, and before Chloe can really think about it, her hands are buried in his hair, desperately trying to make sure he keeps doing exactly this. She has never dared to be this downright demanding before, but she can barely think about it, and the way he moans lowly against her when she pulls on his hair makes any leftover coherent thought drift away. Everything in Chloe coils together tightly before pleasure explodes through her whole body. An unabashed moan falls from her lips as she holds on to his hair even tighter, and her body seems to shake under his firm grasp. But even like this, riding out her orgasm against his mouth, Chloe doesn't get even a second to catch her breath. Emet-Selch doesn't let her at all. A second later, his fingers press inside her. Not teasing at all, he pushes in deep, curling them upwards just right to hit that spot that makes everything even more intense, all while his tongue and lips never stop. It's not even another build-up. More like he straight up refuses to let her wind down before forcing her to come again, this time with a small scream of his name.

She is dimly aware that she is probably pulling on his hair a lot harder than is pleasant, but the way he draws out her orgasm, not letting up until she feels utterly spent, chases every solid thought she has away. When Emet-Selch finally stops, and her hands fall away, Chloe feels boneless and unable to move, and her eyes are unfocused as she desperately tries to catch her breath. And again, he doesn't give her much time to gather her thoughts until he is above her, caging her in between his arms.

"Tell me," he whispers again, lips brushing over hers, and when Emet-Selch kisses her, she can taste herself on his tongue. It sends another shiver through her as he draws back and coaxes her once more. "No one but me will know, my dear. Just let it out."

And he is right, Chloe knows. It's just the two of them here in the dark. No one else will ever hear what she says in this room. Where if not here, in a place where she is pretty sure no one could ever find her, could she ever say these things? Her voice is brittle and still shaking from exhaustion as she whispers quietly, "I hate being so utterly useless..."

Her eyes burn, even as she is still trying to catch her breath, even as remnants of pleasure still make her whole body shiver, and this time Chloe has no idea where the tears come from, but when Emet-Selch is suddenly pressed close to her, drawing her into his arms she curls into the embrace with a desperate sob. And just like that, her tears are falling freely, and Chloe is weeping. Where she had felt empty and hollow after running away from the Crystarium, it is now the exact opposite. Like all the grief and frustration, the anger at her own failure and the horror of the day before come crashing down on her, threatening to drown her in an ocean of sorrow.

"Useless?" Emet-Selch asks quietly, and from the way he sounds, it doesn't seem to be the answer he had expected at all.

"Useless, helpless, powerless," Chloe mutters through her tears. "All of it, all the damn time."

He doesn't understand, she realizes. As much as he sometimes seems to know every little thing she is thinking, this, for once, doesn't seem to be obvious to him, and for a second, she wishes she hadn't said a word. Then again, he asked. He wants to hear what she feels, so perhaps she only needs to find a way to explain it better. 

Resolutely, she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Chloe doesn't look up at him. Somehow she has the feeling talking might be easier like this, with her eyes unfocused and not caught up in his gaze.

"I want to help people, but not like..." she starts before quickly shaking her head. "I can cultivate a field, I can plan a harvest, give me a few helping hands, and I could organize a way to feed all of Lakeland with little more than what the Crystarium grounds already cover," she says quietly. Chloe is almost a little ashamed of saying these things. It sounds like she wants to brag, but it isn't that; it is simply something she knows she can do and could probably do quite well. "I cook a very good stew, I know to plan for food reserves for every season, I know how to make things grow and when to cut them down, but I am rubbish at what the Scions  need  me to do." 

Her breath hitches at that as she remembers the bitter sting of failure she had felt the day before. Emet-Selch simply listens, one of his hands slowly moving up and down her back in a soothing motion, and Chloe tilts her head to look up at him after all, finding his eyes on her with a quiet intensity that is both a little unsettling and strangely encouraging her to go on. 

"I can't fight well," she admits quietly. "I feel like I am always in the way, I constantly need help and protection, and I'm more of a burden than anything remotely helpful whenever there is a battle. And there  always  is another battle. Ever since I first joined them, the next fight is always right around the corner..." A resigned sigh leaves her. "I love to help people, and I think I could do a lot more to do so, but..." Her eyes sting as she blinks away tears of pure frustration. "I am not good around combat. All I do is run after people and try to patch them up, knowing that they wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place if they had an actually competent fighter with them instead of me!"

"You are not upset that people push you into these situations you think you can't handle, but you are mad at yourself for not being good enough?" Emet-Selch asks with a frown and a slight disbelieving sigh. "My dear, I am tempted to question your sanity."

The way he phrases it could almost feel disheartening, but strangely enough, it isn't. Instead, Chloe finds herself letting out a sigh of relief as she realizes even while he mocks her, he clearly understands what she is trying to say.

"You think it's insane that I want to help people?" she asks with a raised brow, shifting a little so she can look at him more clearly. "You, who has been on a mission to help your own people for gods knows how long?"

For a moment, Emet-Selch just looks at her skeptically before he shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

"I think we've already covered the topic of having a vastly different view on what we consider to be people," he says with a raised brow, but despite his words, there is something unmistakably fond in his look as he adds, "But I guess I can concede that point to you." He gives her a once-over, brow still furrowed in thought. "The question is, what do you want to do to change feeling this way?"

"If I knew that, I'd probably have tried to do it already," Chloe murmurs with a slight shrug.

"A simple question then," Emet-Selch suggests. "Do you want to be a better fighter?"

The question almost makes her laugh. Not in an amused way at all, more in a bitter, exhausted way, and she sighs in resignation.

"I am terrible at it!"

"That is not what I asked, hero. I asked what you want."

Emet-Selch sounds sightly chiding, but instead of his usual condescension, this time, it is somewhat encouraging. Chloe takes a deep breath, thinking about just that. What does she want? Ideally, a world where no fighting would ever be necessary, but that's not something that is ever going to happen. When she thinks about it, one thing becomes clearer than anything else.

"I want to stop feeling afraid of everything," she says in a surprisingly firm voice. "And sometimes I think that maybe if I knew how to defend myself, if I knew how to get through a fight completely on my own, then maybe..."

She trails off, unsure what it is precisely that she hopes would change. She just knows that people like Thancred or Y'shtola never seem to be afraid in these moments. 

"Well then," Emet-Selch says with a small grin on his face. "That's a theory quite easily tested, wouldn't you agree?"

"How?" Chloe wonders and her eyebrows go up as he just gives her a knowing look. He cannot mean...

"You want to teach me how to fight better?" The thought is strange, and Chloe can't even completely say why she feels that way. Given how old he is and what he does, it makes sense that he knows practically everything there is to know about most topics, but at the same time, she has never seen Emet-Selch even lift a single finger, and she frowns a little. "Do you even know how to fight aside from snapping your fingers at things?"

Only when the words leave her mouth does she realize that a far more important question might be why he would willingly teach someone like her, who is supposed to be his enemy, something this important, but before she can add that to her question, Emet-Selch lets out a chuckle.

"Oh, aren't we delightful when we are rude, my dear!" 

He smirks, his hand running over her collarbones, fingers trailing along her neck, tugging a strand of hair out of her face. 

"I feel you, of all people, can't really complain about me being rude," she murmurs with a small frown. "Not after you've made me lose my temper more than once on purpose!"

At her slightly chiding tone, Emet-Selch lets his head fall back in open laughter. For a moment, it is unsettling, serving only to stoke that same anger about how unfairly he sometimes treats her, but when he looks at her again, Chloe's breath hitches at the sight of pure adoration in his eyes.

"I'm not complaining, I am elated," he tells her, his eyes gleaming as he cups her face in his hand and draws her into an enthusiastic kiss.

One of his hands slides down her side, dragging her a little closer against him as his tongue slips into her mouth. The way his lips move against her seems like a strange mix of being playful and plain hungry, sending a confusing plethora of feelings through her. Part of her feels almost light-hearted, despite the heavy topic they just discussed, while another side of her burns with the need for even more. The days when Emet-Selch had kept her on edge without any relief had felt like torture, and yet, in a way, even after all that happened, Chloe thinks she might be even needier than before. Like now that she knows what she had been missing so far, her hunger knows no bounds. It doesn't help that, even when he teases her or makes fun of her, Emet-Selch often looks like he is ready to devour her at a moment's notice. Something that should make any sane person keep their distance, but that always seems to do the exact opposite to her. 

Yet, even with all these emotions swirling through her, Chloe can't entirely ignore his earlier questions.

"What if I am simply not strong enough?" she whispers the moment he draws back enough to let her breathe and speak again.

Emet-Selch shifts, lying on his side next to her, propping his head up on his elbow. She is still pressed closely against him, feeling the warmth of his skin against her side, and his free hand slides across her side and down to her hips, fingers drawing random patterns onto her skin in gentle caresses as he looks at her thoughtfully.

"Strength isn't everything. Combat of any form is all about confidence. You go and face your opponent, knowing that you can emerge victoriously."

It sounds deceptively simple when he says it like this, but Chloe's heart sinks at his words nonetheless.

"I don't think you can teach confidence," she mentions quietly, surprised when Emet-Selch lets out another chuckle.

"You underestimate yourself, as usual, my dear."

His hand slides lower, touch getting a bit more insistent as he traces the edge of a bruise on her hips, every now and then letting the tips of his fingers prod a spot that stings enough to make her squirm a little.

"You really think you could teach someone like me to fight?" Chloe asks, torn between sounding full of disbelief and strangely hopeful. "Where would you even start?"

At that question, Emet-Selch's smile widens.

"You've worked on actual fields, haven't you? Meaning you know how to wield a scythe?"

Chloe tilts her head a little, looking at him questioningly. She can't quite piece together how exactly that could help her even a little, but when she sees the expectant look in his eyes, she nods slowly. 

"I know how to cut grass with it…"

Her voice trails off, full of uncertainty, but it seems to be precisely what Emet-Selch had hoped to hear.

"Same principle, really," he says with a knowing look and a little shrug. "You swing, and you cut them down..."

He sounds upbeat, light-hearted almost, but given what they are talking about, Chloe knows the topic is anything but. And suddenly, she feels like she is thrown back to one of their very first conversations, around when he had sought her out in the Crystarium gardens. Her throat feels dry when thinking back about how much their talk had unsettled her, how much the things he had said had gotten under her skin. She remembers how horrified she had been at some of the things he had said. She still is, isn't she? Her heart beats faster at the realization that she isn't as horrified as she maybe should be, not when such a massive part of her is intrigued enough to want to take him up on his offer.

"Like the weeds," Chloe murmurs before finding his eyes. They are blazing with promise as he leans closer.

"Now you're getting it." Emet-Selch's voice is low, and his breath warm against her lips before he kisses her again. It's a bit unsettling to think that the last time he had talked about cutting down weeds, he had made it very obvious that he meant people like her, and she can't help but wonder if Emet-Selch has maybe changed his mind about them. As his lips move hotly against hers and his tongue slips into her mouth, curling around her own, Chloe wonders if they perhaps managed to change his perspective. Just a little bit. If maybe, being around them on their journey has made him see they are not so different.

As if he knows exactly where her thoughts are going, Emet-Selch bites sharply down her lower lip. It's painful, hard enough to draw blood, Chloe realizes as she begins to taste it in their kiss. She remembers his harsh words from a few days ago as she tastes the blood on her tongue, and he kisses her more deeply, groaning into their kiss and clearly enjoying her soft mewl of discomfort. And somewhere, deep inside her mind, Chloe knows he hasn't changed his mind at all, no matter how much she might wish for that reality. Not about humanity, not about mortal beings, at least. His hand is on her thigh now, grabbing her firmly and dragging her even closer, leaving part of Chloe to wonder just why he seems to treat her differently from the rest, but before she can follow that thought, distracted as she is by his mouth on hers, Emet-Selch draws back. He lets his eyes wander over her, taking in her whole disheveled appearance before he clicks his tongue. 

"Alright, I suggest you heal yourself up. You are going to be sorry later otherwise."

Still a bit hazy from how he just kissed her, Chloe takes a moment to catch on.

"What?" she asks with a frown, and Emet-Selch's brow rises.

"I've led armies for many decades, my dear; I am not a very kind or forgiving teacher."

He is utterly serious, she realizes. Emet-Selch hasn't been theoretical or kidding with his suggestion, he seems absolutely willing to try and teach her, and for a moment, Chloe is completely thrown off. She blinks a couple of times before his words truly sink in. With a look down her body, she knows he has a point. There are marks and bruises everywhere, and when she tries to make any broader or more rapid movement, Chloe knows her muscles will protest, and her skin will sting in pain. A flush reddens her cheeks at the thought that she doesn't want the reminders of the last night gone at all. Something, Emet-Selch notices right away if the slowly spreading, knowing smile on his face is any indication.

"Ah, it's like that, isn't it?" he murmurs, running his hand over her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind wherever he touches her. "You like seeing the marks I left on you, and you like feeling what I did whenever you move." Chloe is too flustered to answer. Despite everything, she feels almost a little embarrassed about her thoughts and the way they are so terribly apparent to him, but again Emet-Selch doesn't let her hide from him as his hand wanders up and clasps her face making sure she keeps looking at him. "Don't worry," he says in a deep voice filled with promise. "If you are still up for it later, I'll gladly give you new ones."

Her breath hitches at the way his eyes gleam at those words. He looks dangerous, foreboding, and she gets the feeling that there is so much more than the prospect of simply another rough tumble in the sheets behind his promise, but it doesn't stop her from burning with longing for whatever he has to offer.

"Healing myself up so you can do it all over again?" she asks with a knowing look, repeating what he had taunted her with last night back at him, and again his smile only seems to become a little bit wider.

"You catch on so fast, my dear," he says with a hint of appreciation, and Chloe can feel her heart flutter at the mere tone with how much she wants just that from him. Appreciation and that smile that looks so pleased with everything she does. "How about this," he adds, tilting her head back and letting his lips brush over hers. He doesn't kiss her this time, not really. All he does is leave behind a teasing impression of what could be as he turns her head to the side until he can speak lowly into her ear, "If you are especially good for me, I'll give you all that and something much better, something more."

A shiver runs down her back. The way he speaks doesn't sound particularly soothing or reassuring. It sounds dangerous again and terribly, undeniably, exciting.

"More?" she whispers, trying to turn her head and look at him. "How? What do you..."

"Shhh..." Emet-Selch stops her from speaking, a finger closing over her lips as he gives her a chiding look. "You'll just have to wait and see." With no more room for any sort of protest from her, he draws back and looks at her expectantly. "Now, heal yourself. We have work to do!"

Chapter Text

"Where are we?"

Chloe looks around curiously. Above them, the sky is blazing with light, blinding in its intensity, and all around, the ground seems hostile. Pits of sulfur cover the area, leaving a strange tang in the air. She can't see very far. High formations of rock bar her sight in any direction.

"Somewhere in the mountains of Kholusia, I took the liberty of picking a spot that can't be easily reached for this," Emet-Selch explains.

It makes sense to do this somewhere they won't attract much attention, but why he would do so with all this light overhead, she doesn't understand.

"Why Kholusia?"

Emet-Selch gives her a look that makes Chloe feel like she should know the answer, but as she is still furiously thinking, he snaps his fingers once, and suddenly, he holds a massive scythe in his hands, holding it out to her with a slight nod.

"Go on, take it."

It is slightly bigger than the ones Chloe is used to for field work, but when she takes it from him, her brows raise in surprise as she finds the tool not that much heavier than the ones she had at home. She is still glad he insisted that she heal herself before this, realizing now while holding the scythe that swinging such a heavy thing alone would have been painful otherwise. And probably not in the same, fascinating way it had been with him. Emet-Selch steps behind her, and his hands lie warmly on her shoulders for a moment.

"Don't think too much about it," he says right next to her ear. "You know how to wield it already, know how to swing without hurting yourself or losing your balance, right?" 

Chloe holds the scythe a little tighter as she nods. He is right, she does know these things.

"Good girl," he tells her, and his fingers around her shoulders tighten for a moment. "Now, I want you to think about the weeds, the tall grass that just needs to go. You know how to do that, too, right?"

Again, she nods, gently moving the scythe back and forth, getting a better feel for its weight.

"Hold still," Emet-Selch tells her, voice firm and not permitting protest. "This might feel strange, but it's the easiest way to do this."

Chloe frowns, lips already parted to ask him what he means when his magic suddenly seeps into her, and a second later, the dull throbbing of the light that has been ever-present since she killed her first Lightwarden turns into something surging and hot. It's not painful, but neither is it pleasant. It's somewhere in between. Uncomfortable and a little bit searing, like he takes the light in her and stokes it into a fire.

"What are you doing?" she gets out between heavy breaths, and a moment later, she hears something. The unmistakable fluttering of giant wings on the air. Her eyes go wide as a Sin Eater lands only a couple of yalms from them.

"You need something to practice on, my dear." Emet-Selch sounds thoroughly unimpressed. "The light in you, stoked just right, draws them to you like a moth to the flame."

Her breath is uneven as she stares at the monstrosity in front of her and realizes this is the answer to her earlier question. This is why they are in Kholusia, one of the few places she hadn't rid of the light yet.

"You want me to practice on Sin Eaters?" she asks incredulously, fear running through her whole body. "What about training dummies for a start?"

The answer she gets is a disapproving scoff before his hands tighten on her shoulders.

"And what are you supposed to learn from that? You already know how to cut down things that don't resist."

The Sin Eater's head whirls around, and Chloe can see the exact moment it notices them. Its whole body twists in unnatural ways as it slowly turns, a little spring in its unnaturally bent knees making it obvious that it is poised to attack.

"This is a terrible idea," Chloe whispers as if suddenly lowering her volume would help in any way. It's far too late for that, of course, the beast has already seen them. "Maybe I'm not ready to learn things like this yet, maybe-"

"Less talking, my dear, more practice," Emet-Selch chides, and suddenly, he makes a hissing noise that seems to only incite the Sin Eater further. It snarls, getting ready to pounce, and Chloe's first instinct is to move back and get to safety, but Emet-Selch is right behind her, making that impossible.

"What am I even supposed to do?"

Her hands feel clammy around the scythe, and her heart is beating in her throat, but Emet-Selch doesn't appear to be worried at all. If anything, he sounds amused at the way she frets.

"I suggest you kill it, my dear. Ere it kills you, I might add, it's by far the best way to learn."

And when the monstrosity charges at her, he gives her shoulders a strong push, sending her stumbling right into its path.

A scream of terror leaves her lips as she suddenly faces the thing all on her own, and for a second, the fear is close to overwhelming her until she hears Emet-Selch's voice once more, loud and clear from behind her.

"Weeds, Chloe, nothing but a pest that needs to go. Cut!"

Her grip on the scythe tightens. He says to treat this much like working on a field, like cutting down grass and killing monsters is somehow one and the same. It isn't, Chloe knows. The grass doesn't fight back, after all, doesn't threaten to overwhelm her and end her on the spot. But it isn't like she has a choice right now, and when the horrifying creature lunges at her, Chloe dodges to the side and swings. 

The first difference she feels is that there is a lot more resistance. Cutting down grass requires some strength to wield the scythe, but nothing too trying. This feels different. The blade is razor-sharp, cutting instantly, and yet the moment it hits the Sin Eater, she feels the impact with her entire body. There is pushback, and like on instinct, Chloe leans further into her movement, putting her body weight behind it. The creature howls, twisting and turning, trying to swipe at her with its giant claws, and with a terrified yell, Chloe brings the scythe up, trying to shield herself from the hit in some way. What she hasn't expected is how easily it cuts with the much quicker and sharper movement. The blade glides through light-stained flesh and cuts off the entire grotesquely elongated arm like a knife going through butter.

A piercing scream echoes through the air, impossibly loud with the sound being trapped by the surrounding mountains, and then the creature throws itself at her with its whole body, a wide mouth full of sharp, glistening teeth first. Chloe thinks she hears Emet-Selch again from a distance, telling her to cut it down, but perhaps it's only her own mind reminding her, kicking her into action. Once more she throws her whole body into the swing and, in one fell swoop, she cuts the entire beast in two.

Around her, it gets eerily quiet.

After the dull sound of body parts hitting the ground, the air seems to stand still. Her own heavy breathing is the only thing Chloe can hear as she stands, unmoving, her eyes still wide and her hands clutching the scythe tightly. A slow clapping sound rips her out of her stupor, and she whirls around, seeing Emet-Selch applaud her with a look of delight on his face.

"Well done, my dear," he says, taking a step closer, eyes roaming over the scattered pieces of Sin Eater around her that begin to glow and slowly dissipate into light itself. "See, that wasn't so difficult, was it now?"

Chloe stares at him, her whole body slightly shaking from the remnants of the fear that had taken over her whole body.

"That was terrifying," she splutters, her breaths going fast enough to make her a little dizzy. "Reckless, stupid, and utterly insane!"

Her words don't chastise him at all. Instead, he looks utterly pleased as he closes the distance between them and lets a hand run over the side of her face.

"I know," he murmurs, sending a spark of heat through her with his gaze. "And you are itching to do it again, aren't you?"

Denial lies on her tongue, but Chloe can't help but think there is something to what he is saying, something about the rush of power she had just felt the moment her scythe had cut the Sin Eater in half, that is surprisingly tempting.

"Yes," she answers quietly instead. 

Against her temple, his fingers begin to glow, and then he stokes the light again. It's not less strange the second time, but just like before, it doesn't take long until another Sin Eater descends on them, and this time, Chloe is prepared.

It goes on like this. Emet-Selch praises her for each one she cuts down, and then he always calls more. The rush of adrenaline keeps Chloe going, but even with that, she notices how demanding this way of fighting is for someone like her who has almost no training at all. Emet-Selch doesn't go easy on her, not taking any breaks and not letting her catch her breath for too long.

"I think we should up the difficulty, my dear," he claims after a few hours of this, and Chloe's heart already races from exertion, but it still manages to go a little faster at those words. But before she can protest, he already touches her again, making her light in her surge enough she can see her skin starting to glow for a few seconds, and this time it's not a single Sin Eater that shows up - it's a small army.

Panic runs through her at the sight. She had expected to maybe give her something a little bit harder than before, but not something as overwhelming and outright terrifying as this, and for the first time in all of this training, Chloe finds herself completely frozen in place. They are rushing closer, but it almost feels like everything is suddenly running in slow motion. Flashes of the devastation in Lakeland go through her head, and with it, the utter despair of feeling outmatched and so horribly small and incapable.

"Follow your instincts," Emet-Selch calls out to her. "Don't falter now!"

She doesn't want to, but a sense of hopelessness nearly makes her unable to breathe.

"There are so many, and I'm alone," she whispers, unable to move or even think of anything but her fear. 

She keeps seeing people she vaguely knows collapsing left and right from her, remembers her own exhaustion, her inability to heal all of them fast enough. Remembers wishing that she were somehow better, good at fighting and keeping a cool head in the chaos. There are too many, just like last time. Too many of them and only one of her, and she knows ahead lies nothing but failure, just like back in Lakeland.

Her scythe sinks, and Chloe clenches her eyes shut, swaying on her feet as every part of her feels like she wants to curl up in a ball on the floor when she suddenly hears a snap, and then she feels an arm around her, holding her incredibly close.

"I have you," Emet-Selch murmurs softly as his other hand strokes her hair. "There is no reason to be this afraid, I wouldn't let them harm you." She is shivering against him, but his words manage to break through the haze of despair on her mind as he assures her, "And I certainly wouldn't let so many of them attack if I didn't think you could handle it, hero."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly her fear sinks away in his arms, how just a few words from him manage to make her feel strangely safe. But when she dares to glance around them, she sees they are still surrounded, all of the Sin Eaters neatly frozen in place for now. They still look terrifying, even unmoving.

"Truly?" she asks, her voice uneven and shaky. "You really believe that?"

"I'm not in the habit of lying to people," Emet-Selch says with a slight scoff. "It's usually not worth the hassle." He leans back a little, giving her a thoughtful look. "I think I know how to help you with this."

Chloe isn't sure if she wants help or if she would rather beg him to take them away from here and back to wherever she had spent the night with him, but before she can even ask for that, he already shifts and reaches for her.

"Shh," Emet-Selch calms her, cupping her face in both hands. "Close your eyes and hold perfectly still!"

Her heart beats faster, trying to make sense of what he is trying to accomplish, of why he is doing this, and for once, she doesn't immediately do as he tells her, staring at him with wide eyes instead.

"They are already too much for me, and you want to summon more?" she asks incredulously, but to her surprise, Emet-Selch shakes his head.

"I am not going to." His thumb brushes across her cheek, wiping away a tear as he looks imploringly at her. "Trust me, Chloe. Close your eyes."

His hold on her isn't harsh or firm in any way, and Chloe is quite convinced that if she were to take a step back, he wouldn't force her into anything. And yet the option seems worse than staying and waiting for the unknown. Emet-Selch would let her go, but she can only imagine the look of disappointment on his face. He'd dress it up in cruel mockery, most likely, but it wouldn't change the fact that she would not have lived up to his expectations.

She shouldn't care about that. No sane person in her position should, and yet what he thinks of her has become of singular importance to Chloe. There might be something terribly wrong about that as well, but even knowing that doesn't seem to make a difference anymore. 

Chloe takes a deep breath, for a moment, simply looking at him. She isn't sure what exactly she expects to see, but somehow those two little words are seeping underneath her skin. 

'Trust me.'  

And even though she knows she shouldn't, under no circumstances, she can't escape the fact that she somehow does, regardless of who he is. She closes her eyes and tries to relax. 

It isn't easy, Chloe realizes a moment later, tensing involuntarily when she can feel his magic around her change. It becomes denser somehow, lying heavy in the air as if she could reach out and touch it. But he had asked her to trust him, and with a deep exhale, she lets go of the tension, keeping her eyes closed.

"Yes, just like that," Emet-Selch murmurs in quiet appreciation. "You are doing so good." His praise sends a small shiver down her back, and Chloe leans further into his touch. "You have so much more power than you think you have, my dear, but you keep being afraid." One of his hands gently caresses her cheek, making her almost forget all about the danger surrounding them. "It's because you are alone out there, and you hate nothing more than being alone, isn't that right?"

There is a lump in her throat that makes it hard to speak, stifling enough, so all that escapes her is a gasp that sounds suspiciously like a sob. Her eyes are still closed, but they suddenly burn, and she clenches her hand firmly around the scythe to keep it from shaking.

"No need to answer, my dear. It's been clear to see from the moment I first met you. There is a void in you, a loss so great you never quite managed to fill it, no matter how many years passed," Emet-Selch says, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Grief has a tendency to encase us in loneliness, and there are few things as devastating as being the one that is left behind." His hand, so warm against her cheeks, is the only thing that feels real, the only thing keeping her right where she is, and it's entirely without force. Instead, it's the softness that proves to be her undoing.

"They left me too soon," she whispers, not trusting her voice. "I wasn't ready to be alone..."

At her quiet words, he pulls her a little closer, and around them, Emet-Selch's magic seems to swell, wrapping around her like a warm blanket, a comforting cocoon that holds her in a warm embrace.

"No one ever is," he says quietly, and Chloe doesn't think she has ever heard so much emotion swing in his voice. "But you are stronger than you think, and I will make you see that."

The magic feels like an extension of him, but there is something more. A disturbance, like a tear in the aether, getting bigger and bigger, making the desire to simply open her eyes and look grow by the second, but Emet-Selch seems to know exactly what she's thinking.

"Keep your eyes closed, focus on me," he tells her as the sensation grows almost overwhelming, and then something touches her, both body and soul, something that is definitely not his magic.

"What..." she murmurs in confusion, her eyes still closed. It doesn't hurt, but it's maybe a little bit unsettling until, all of a sudden, all Chloe feels is a sense of warmth, belonging, and home. Her breath goes faster when she can't entirely tell if the feelings are her own or if they come from something else, someone else. Nothing about it makes sense. There is only Emet-Selch with her, and yet she clearly feels another presence wrapping around her, holding her, caressing her in the most loving way - until it seems to seep beneath her skin and sink into her heart and soul.

The strange, surreal feeling slowly slips away, but Chloe knows that something is different. That void inside her, the grief, it is all still there, but somehow just a little bit less overwhelming than before. It almost feels a bit like when she uses healing magic to close a deep wound. Like something settling back into its natural place, torn, frayed edges growing together again, healing.

"You can open your eyes again, my dear."

Emet-Selch's voice comes to her ear like through a fog, and Chloe blinks a few times, feeling a little dizzy before everything around her becomes clear again.

"What did you do?" she asks, unable to do anything but stare into his eyes. Is there something different about them? She's always been drawn to his eyes, but right now, that yearning feeling inside her is stronger than ever before.

"I merely gave something back to you that is yours by right," he replies, brows raised as he looks her over. Emet-Selch is checking to see if she is alright, Chloe realizes, and her curiosity about what just happened becomes almost unbearable. Luckily, he seems inclined to explain further. "Your soul was as sundered as the world was at one point. Fourteen parts, each a fraction of a whole, a pale imitation." At first, Chloe thinks he sounds scathing at that, but then it becomes clear that what hovers in his voice is a sense of despair, devastation even. "Through the rejoinings, your soul has recovered parts of them, seven so far," he explains further. "I just returned yet another part."

Her eyes are wide at his fantastical claim, and yet, everything Chloe has felt, the sense of familiarity and belonging, makes it feel strangely logical.

"But how?" she asks, still trying to wrap her head around all this. "Any why now?"

"The how is simple, though it might perhaps sound a little alarming to you," he saith with a slight frown. "You know what happened to the thirteenth shard, don't you?"

A small shudder runs down her back as she remembers the many encounters with creatures from that realm she had while being with the Scions.

"Everything was destroyed, the world filled with void creatures."

"Those creatures used to be more like you than you might think," Emet-Selch says in a somber voice. "Each of them a shattered piece of a once complete soul."

Again, it sounds nearly too fantastical to believe, but then what Emet-Selch is saying suddenly starts to make a frightening amount of sense. When she looks at him in alarm, he only nods.

"Now you're starting to understand. When the thirteenth collapsed, and its inhabitants turned into creatures of darkness, much like the people on this world are turning into Sin Eaters, I might add, the shard that used to belong to your soul still gleamed unmistakably." Again he caresses her cheek, this time with a smile. "I could hardly just leave it here."

"Why me?" Chloe can't help but ask, trying desperately to make sense of this. "That was millennia ago, wasn't it? Why would you..."

With a shake of his head, he places a finger across her lips. "Oh, Chloe, you still haven't figured that out yet?" Emet-Selch sounds almost a bit disappointed, but his smile remains. "No matter, you will. One day." And with that, his hands are on her shoulders, and he turns her around, facing the still frozen Sin Eaters once more. "Back to the point of all of this. You can do this. You have the power, more so than before, even. And you will never be alone." He presses a kiss on the top of her head. "Now, give them hell!"

He lets go of her and takes a few steps back, and then Chloe hears a snap, and the Sin Eaters around her start to move. She has no time to think further about anything. All she can do is grab her scythe tight and pray to all the gods she doesn't truly believe in anymore that Emet-Selch is right about her.

They attack from all sides, ravenous and merciless, and as they fly towards her in blurry streams of light, instinct takes over. She whirls the scythe above her head, slicing and cutting without even looking at individual foes. And to Chloe's surprise, everything she does feels lighter somehow, comes more naturally. Her feet start to move on their own as she lunges and dodges attacks at the same time. Each slice that goes through Sin Eater flesh feels strangely satisfying, personal somehow. Chloe cuts and reaps, learning fast that her attacks hit even easier if she manages to get behind them. And then, with another satisfying blow, something happens. The same familiar feeling from before, the warmth, the aether that feels like it's not hers and yet is, surges through her, and all that has settled into her soul earlier seems to take form.

Terrifying form.

A scream of fear leaves her lips as she finds herself in the same embrace as earlier, only this time she feels it on her skin, pressing against her body, and her eyes are open, seeing the unmistakable energy and shape of a voice creature clinging to her.

"Oh, I might have forgotten to mention that this particular bit of your soul comes with a little extra," Emet-Selch calls out from somewhere behind her, and if Chloe weren't terrified out of her mind, she'd take issue with how amused he sounds at that. "A little bit of remaining consciousness, I suggest you make use of that. It's a part of you that has known how to fight for ages, after all."

And somehow, even through her fear, Chloe realizes he is right. The creature isn't harming her, isn't attacking her at all. It is part of her, alien and yet so profoundly familiar. It swirls away from her, tethered to her only by aether as it lashes out, swiping at Sin Eaters left and right, and suddenly, she realizes she truly isn't alone. That this creature, this part of her, is right at her back, fighting for her, fighting  with  her. 

After that, the entire battle becomes somewhat of a blur. Between the two of them, Sin Eaters go down left and right, not even posing a challenge anymore, and when the last one falls, the voidsent slinks back into her soul, back to being a comforting, warm presence only, leaving Chloe the only one standing on a now empty battlefield.

"See?" Emet-Selch sounds incredibly satisfied with himself as he walks up to her. "I said you could do it."

"You bound a creature from the void to me," Chloe says, her voice full of disbelief as she turns to face him. "Just like that..."

"No, I returned part of your soul to you," Emet-Selch insists, waving his hand in an aside gesture. "The rest is merely a little side-effect."

"A little side effect..." she murmurs, mostly to herself, as she shakes her head. "You weren't kidding when you said you were neither kind nor forgiving when teaching."

At that, Emet-Selch lets out an amused huff. 

"All in a day's work, my dear. I'd say you learned quite a bit, didn't you?"

That, Chloe can't deny, but when she looks at him, standing serenely next to her, not a hair out of place and looking poised as ever while she is still breathing heavily and has parts of her hair stuck to her face, she shakes her head.

"And you've somehow haven't actually done anything but snap your fingers," she remarks with a disbelieving chuckle of her own.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the training, but even though she clearly feels her muscles strain, and her mind is still racing, trying to process all that has happened, Chloe is strangely elated. Like she could take on the entire world. In front of her, Emet-Selch's eyes narrow, but he doesn't look angry at all. More calculating, if anything, Chloe thinks.

"And here I thought I'd do you a favor by going easy on you and letting you practice on Sin Eaters," he says with a shake of his head. "But if you insist on fighting me instead..."

Chloe's eyes widen at the thought, more so when he snaps his fingers once more and suddenly no longer wears the long black coat she is so used to seeing him in. Instead, he is in front of her now, in a full set of Garlean armor. Her throat runs a little dry as she looks at him, thinking that it isn't fair that he somehow manages to make the getup of a Garlean legatus look good. Lazily he reaches behind him, unsheathing a long gunblade with a motion that speaks of practiced ease.

"Shall we dance then, my dear?" Emet-Selch asks her, his golden eyes gleaming in the never-ending light. "Let's see if all this training was good for something."

Chapter Text

Emet-Selch doesn't give her any time to question him or even properly prepare herself - not that Chloe has any idea how she would have even attempted to do that. She has never really fought someone in close combat before today, and all she can do is try to hold on to her scythe and hope the same things she had put into practice against the Sin Eaters will also work against him.

Which might be more difficult than she can anticipate. She barely manages to get her scythe up in time to block his first blow. Her arms shake from the force of the impact, and a second later, she dodges the next blow hastily with a small yell of surprise. 

Fighting Emet-Selch is nothing like fighting Sin Eaters, she realizes as she does her best to keep on her toes while dodging several more hits. For one thing, he is much faster than they had been. Once again, Chloe feels the strange but somehow helpful embrace of the void around her, nudging her, and then she has no more time to think; all she can do is follow her instincts. The void creature nudges, Chloe gives in, and a moment later, she finds herself several yalms away and behind him, whirling around to see a small portal where she used to stand.

"Look at you, being such a fast learner."

Emet-Selch sounds almost proud as he turns around, but there is no reprieve in it for Chloe when he once again comes at her with remarkable speed. She brings her scythe up and manages to direct his blow to the side just before his gunblade goes off.

"You shot at me," Chloe yells out in surprise as she tries to counter with a swing of her weapon.

"That's usually how this weapon works, my dear."

Emet-Selch sounds entirely unconcerned, and Chloe swallows at the realization that absolutely nothing involving him is safe for her in any way, even sparring turns out to be dangerous. But at the same time, it sends a rush of adrenaline through her body, accompanied by a burning need to prove she can do this. He said he wouldn't have thrown the Sin Eaters at her if he didn't think she could handle it - it stands to reason that this is more of the same. He is not holding back because he has faith she can do this, and somehow that is all the encouragement Chloe needs.

She dodges the next swing before she goes on the attack this time. Emet-Selch proves much harder to hit than any Sin Eater she has fought so far. He is faster, less predictable, and has an astonishing array of magic tricks at his disposal, but while that makes fighting him a lot more difficult, Chloe realizes that it also makes it a lot more interesting. At some point, she has to put some distance between them, if only to catch a quick breath, and to her relief, he lets her. For once, he doesn't immediately follow up, circling her slowly instead.

"Look at that, a couple of hours of training, and you are slowly beginning to see the fun in this."

He sounds satisfied, a hint of amusement swinging in his voice, and Chloe has to take another deep breath as she asks herself if he is right. Is she actually having fun while being in a fight? The idea sounds preposterous.

"I might be getting better," she admits. "But that doesn't mean I am actually enjoying this."

At her slightly defensive reply, Emet-Selch lets out a laugh, and a moment later, he is all up in her face, his gunblade dangerously close to her neck and barely held in check by her scythe.

"You are enjoying this," he says, sounding absolutely sure of himself. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be smiling the entire time."

Chloe barely has the opportunity to acknowledge that he is right, realizing that she is indeed smiling when he steps around her, and she has to leap out of his reach to not get hit. The tip of his gunblade cuts through her shirt, leaving a tear and a stinging scratch on her arm as she finds her footing. Determination to not let herself be caught off guard quite as quickly again rushes through her as Chloe goes on the attack again. Perhaps he is right; perhaps she genuinely enjoys this. There isn't even much of a reason to deny it, many of her friends enjoy sparring and even being in an actual fight. So wherever her hesitation at admitting this comes from, perhaps it is time to ignore it.

She certainly doesn't have the time to think a lot about it, not when Emet-Selch takes up all her attention. The longer they go on, the more Chloe realizes that he is still holding back. Whenever she manages to handle his attacks a bit better, he ramps up the difficulty again. When she evades his blows with confidence, he becomes faster, when she parries them quickly in a row, his maneuvers become more complex, and whenever she feels like she is slowly getting the upper hand, he evens the playing field yet again. Emet-Selch does all of this without even an ounce of hesitation, and it makes it more than obvious that he could most likely crush her at any moment if he so wanted to. He doesn't, though. Instead, he keeps pushing her just the right amount to not only keep her on her toes but also spark the desire in her to keep trying.

He is an excellent teacher, Chloe realizes when, after what has most likely been hours, she fights tooth and nail against her exhaustion, unwilling to call a stop to this. Her arms have long become heavy, and her breathing labored, but she doesn't even think about yielding. That is until he suddenly moves just a little bit too fast, and with a well-placed blow, he knocks the scythe right out of her hand and sends it crashing to the floor.

A second later, Chloe freezes in place as she feels the sharp edge of the gunblade pressed against her neck.

"I think that's enough for one day. Well done, my dear."

Chloe is breathing heavily, her neck strained against the cold steel, but her now empty hands clench in frustration.

"Well done? I lost," she huffs, but her anger doesn't faze him. With a small laugh, he relaxes his hold, moving the gunblade away from her neck before he shoulders it in one smooth motion.

"I have a couple of years of experience on you," Emet-Selch says with a shake of his head. "Give or take a few eons. I wouldn't worry, you have fought surprisingly well for someone new to this."

It's an unmistakable compliment, and Chloe once more can't stop herself from smiling. Now that the heat of the battle subsides, she also becomes acutely aware of how close he is standing, and for the first time, she doesn't even think much about how she might come across or what the consequences might be. She just grabs the collar of his armor and pulls him close until she can kiss him.

All the tension from the battlefield melts away the moment her lips crash against his, and suddenly nothing matters but the way his arm wraps around her waist to drag her close and his tongue pushes past her lips. Like during their fight, Emet-Selch pushes and sets the pace, but in this, Chloe doesn't feel the need to fight him on anything.

"If I had known that fighting you gets me this reaction, I'd have attacked you a lot sooner," Emet-Selch murmurs, eyes filled with amusement when he leans back a little between kisses to look at her. "But perhaps this is not the best location for this sort of thing."

This time it's Chloe's turn to laugh and scoff a little.

"Says the person who made me go on my knees for him in the middle of the Crystarium," she points out, still a little bit surprised by her own courage.

"I am not at all worried about an audience, my dear. My thoughts are solely about comfort."

She can't really argue about that, given they are surrounded by nothing but hard rock and a couple of sulfur pits in the distance. Not exactly a pleasant location for anything really, even though it had done its job in serving as a training ground quite well. Comfort hadn't been the first thing on Chloe's mind, but now that she mentions it, she thinks back to that secluded place she had spent the night with him, and with it, she remembers something else.

"You promised me something more that I would enjoy if I did a good enough job." When Chloe thinks back to his exact phrasing, a shiver of excitement runs down her back. "Was I good enough for you, Emet-Selch?"

"You have no idea what I am offering, and yet you are so very eager," he murmurs as he draws a strand of hair out of her face.

"You said you'd want to find out how far is too far with me just last night," Chloe points out. "Maybe I am simply just as curious."

She isn't sure where this newfound courage comes from, but somehow, being around him makes it almost ridiculously easy to ignore everything that usually makes her afraid and hesitant. She already let him do things to her that rational thought would perhaps advise against, and as a result, he had returned a piece of her soul to her. Maybe the mere thought should unsettle her a lot more, but it feels nothing but right. After the first few overwhelming moments, she had known that this was indeed another part of her , something she hadn't missed before, not knowing that it was out there, but now that she does, Chloe knows it belongs with her. So does the strange creature from the void.

A part of you that already knows how to fight, Emet-Selch had called it. Perhaps it is the actual source behind her courage now, or maybe everything that had happened in the past couple of days thrown together had helped her grow somehow. Perhaps the source doesn't even matter. If Chloe knows one thing, it's that so far, Emet-Selch hasn't steered her wrong. She had greatly enjoyed and benefitted from everything else he had done to her so far.

"Oh, I have no doubt that you are curious," Emet-Selch replies with a laugh. "It's one of your more incorrigible traits. Lucky for you, I am in a mood to indulge you." With a snap of his fingers, he collects her weapon from the ground and opens a portal for them before he gives her a playful bow. "After you, my dear."

There is a low hum of warning and perhaps a shred of insecurity still lingering within her, but her curiosity overrules them both, and Chloe steps through the portal without question. Kholusia melts away behind her, and it only takes a few unsettling seconds before the world feels solid again, and Chloe finds herself back in that strangely foreign yet comfortable place she had woken up in this morning.

Carelessly, Emet-Selch lets her scythe fall to the floor. His gunblade follows directly after, and then his hands are on her, undoing buttons and laces as he starts to undress her. This time he doesn't simply will their clothes away by magic, and from the look in his eyes, Chloe guesses he enjoys the slightly slower pace of doing this by hand just as much. 

Chloe understands the appeal when she lets her hands run over his chest, and her fingers twitch with the desire to do the same to him. She has no idea what she is doing, some of the more complicated mechanisms of Garlean armor completely escape her, but Emet-Selch has no issue with leading her hands and showing her what to do. 

He doesn't quite let her finish, though. As soon as he has her out of her clothes, Emet-Selch takes her by the shoulders and steers her toward the bed.

"Turn around and lie down," he tells her with a promising smile.

Chloe doesn't resist the nudge he gives her shoulder, following his request without hesitation. She can hear how he finishes undressing behind her before the bed dips under his weight as he joins her, and then his hands run across her back.

"You will let me do whatever I want, isn't that so?" he asks with a voice that is both warm and full of intrigue, and Chloe nods with a low hum. "Excellent. Now, I promised you something better than the marks I left on you last night, so I am going to hurt you, my dear, but you won't mind."

He had been beyond rough with her the night before already, and she had loved every second of it.

"I didn't mind last night either," is all she gets past her lips, for the moment glad that she can hide against the sheets, knowing her face is flushed from the mere memory.

Emet-Selch lets out a low chuckle.

"Indeed, all you did last night was quietly beg for more."

His hand slides up to her neck and holds her down, pressing her into the soft mattress, and Chloe wonders just what exactly he has planned when his fingers trail over her shoulder, and the sensation they leave behind is entirely new. He isn't using his nails, and it isn't cutting, but the tips of his fingers leave behind a hot, searing sensation wherever they go. At first, it's only a barely noticeable, dull pain, but after a moment, it starts to flare up, and Chloe gasps as her whole body tenses. 

"What..." she murmurs, but with the way he holds her down, she can't turn to look at what he is doing. Nor can she move or even flinch away, at least not without putting up a serious struggle.

"Hush, my dear," he tells her as he continues, and with it, the searing sensation goes deeper, slowly turning into pain. It isn't unbearable, but it's enough to make her breath go faster and her mouth run dry. "You like the pain I give you, and I enjoy feeling you shiver and shake under me when I hurt you, so this should work in both our favor." Emet-Selch's voice is low and quiet, almost as if he is telling her a well-kept secret. "Watching you strain and fight through it, so very eager to take what I have in store for you, is intoxicating." His fingers move towards her spine, and everywhere he touches, he leaves behind the feeling of her skin being burnt from the intensity. "So I want you to hold perfectly still. You wouldn't want to mess up my work now, would you?"

His work? Chloe frowns a little, but when he keeps moving, and the sensation moves with him, it slowly starts to dawn on her what he is doing. Emet-Selch is marking her somehow. The pain is his brush, and her body the canvas on which it paints a picture of gruesome affection. It isn't something random, no, he definitely has a plan, and Chloe whimpers softly, pressing her legs together to stem he own arousal at the thought that he wants something of this to stay with her.

Again there is a tiny spark, a little voice reminding her that this isn't normal, that she shouldn't simply let him do whatever he wants, but it is all too easy to ignore knowing she wants this. He paints with trails of fire over her skin, and by now, it's no longer a dull, slight pain but a sharp and flaming inferno. Where he touches, she burns hot enough to cry out, but Chloe forces herself to relax under his hold. He is right. She does enjoy this, as strange as it might seem to anyone else.

"Don't hold back your cries, my dear," Emet-Selch murmurs, his voice low and rumbling with satisfaction. "I don't want you to be strong for me. I want to hear the effects this has on you."

It hadn't even occurred to Chloe that she was struggling to hold herself in check, but now that he mentions it, she realizes it's true. Her fingers are clenched into the fabric of the sheets, and she's ground her teeth to keep any noises at bay. When he tells her to let go, she stops trying to hold back her tears and her cries of pain.

"You are being so good for me," he tells her softly when the first tear runs down her face with unmistakable approval in his voice. 

His other hand is on her leg, teasingly caressing the inside of her thigh. His touch on her back burns, but Chloe holds her breath in anticipation when his fingers brush over her folds with the slightest hint of pressure, just enough to make her sigh and yearn for more, despite the pain he causes at the same time. The conflicting emotions make it much harder to keep herself from moving and squirming under his touches, and after a few more moments of this, a desperate groan leaves her.

"Emet-Selch, please," she murmurs, almost tearing at the sheets now as she tries to keep herself still.

A small chuckle breaks from his lips.

"What is it that you are begging me for, Chloe?" he asks, not stopping even a moment, his fingers still blazing across her back.

"This is becoming too much to bear," she murmurs, and this time he notably slows down.

"Are you asking me to stop?"

It's the last thing she wants, and yet asking for what is on her mind is terribly intimidating. With a small whimper, Chloe finally shakes her head.

"No, I need you to hold me down more firmly, more thoroughly," she whispers between embarrassing groans. "I can't hold still. You need to restrain me."

He leans across her back, not touching her stinging skin but leaning close enough she feels his warm breath against her cheek.

"You say the sweetest things," Emet-Selch tells her before he snaps his fingers once, and then there is aether all around her. Thick strands of it wrap around her arms and legs, sliding across her hips and over her neck, tying her down and holding her completely immobile against the bed.

A breathy 'thank you' falls from her lips when he leans back and resumes his work.

"I must confess, I usually don't have people thanking me for tying them up and making them cry," Emet-Selch says, sounding unbelievably satisfied. "You were always a special one."

Again Chloe has the urge to ask more questions, curious what exactly he means by this, but all air gets driven from her lungs a second later when his burning touch returns. This time Chloe can truly let go. So can he, she realizes a moment later. The earlier searing pain was nothing compared to the feeling of his fingers painting with pure, hot flames, and every touch on her back now hurts like hell. 

Dimly Chloe remembers once seeing horses being branded by red-hot irons and wondering just how much pain there were in. Now, she feels like she knows. His hand between her legs is blissfully cool in contrast as he spreads her folds apart, and then something pushes inside of her, filling her with confusing sensations, pleasure vying for her attention against the searing touch on her back. It's his aether, she realizes as she notices it feels much like the magic that holds her in place. And as it fills her more and more, pushing deep inside her all while he rains down what feels like pure fire on her skin Chloe no longer knows if her cries are from pain or relief. All she knows is that she doesn't want him to stop as he turns her into a sobbing mess.

"Beautiful."

She only barely hears him over the noises she makes, but he sounds almost elated, never stopping with what he is doing, not even for a small moment.

"You can take even more than this, isn't that right, my dear?" 

Chloe can't do anything but nod through her tears, letting out a pleading moan.

"Perfect," Emet-Selch praises her. "Because this is going to take a while, but I can promise you it will be well worth it." He leans closer again, and Chloe is almost sure he deliberately ups the pressure of his touch against her back as he whispers into her ear, "After this, there will never again be any doubt that you are truly and utterly mine."

Perhaps the utter greed in his almost jubilant voice would have given her pause under more normal circumstances, but right now, she is too distracted to care, too far gone to do anything but think that what he says sounds like everything she could ever want, consequences be damned.

Chapter Text

Time has somehow ceased to have meaning.

Chloe thinks it must have been hours at least, though it feels almost impossible to estimate anything at all. Maybe she has been here, like this, for days, months, even. A whole lifetime? She exists only for this moment, comes alive for the heat and accompanying touches that promise only pain. Sweet, overwhelming pain that has her whole body on edge. Or is it pleasure? Her body tenses, arms and legs straining against the bonds of cool aether as she tries to twist under the fiery touch. It must be pain, Chloe thinks. She is crying, after all, and has been for what feels like forever. It must be pleasure, her mind insists right after when she moans deeply, feeling like she is close to the edge of release, like each burning touch goes directly to her core. 

Emet-Selch's aether holds her firmly in place. Chloe cannot move, not even an inch. Her legs are spread open for him to rest between, but even though he occasionally lets his hand brush over the inside of her thigh, he doesn't touch her further, only his aether does. He takes his time with her, making sure no part of her back remains unblemished. The pattern he draws is intricate, and from the way he gets lost in the details, Chloe can only assume it is something important. She is ripe with curiosity, but if Emet-Selch is not volunteering any information by himself, she knows he won't answer her questions anyway. Not yet, at least. After what feels like another eternity, he finally takes his hands back, and to her dismay, she misses his touch almost instantly.

"Don't try to move just yet, hero," Emet-Selch murmurs, his aether tightening a little around her as if to emphasize his point, making sure she can't disobey even if she had a mind to do so. "This will hurt quite a while, but you don't mind that at all, do you?"

All Chloe manages to get out is a low groan. She feels like she is floating, her mind blissfully light. The sheets beneath her are cold and silky-smooth against her skin, and everywhere his aether holds her in place, it feels more like a caress than a restraint. Her entire back burns like it's on fire, but at this point, it truly doesn't even feel like pain anymore, it's something else. Something that keeps her whole body on edge, and when Emet-Selch's hand runs up along the inside of her thigh, she whimpers in need.

"Look at you, so aroused you are practically dripping onto the sheets."

Chloe knows it's true before he even touches her, but when he does, letting the aether that fills her dissipate as his fingers drag lazily through her folds, she knows she is absolutely soaking wet.

"Tell me what you need, my dear." Two of his fingers slide inside her, and his thumb brushes over her clit at the same time, setting her body on fire in a very different way now, and Chloe instinctively tries to buck into his hand. The moment she tries, he stills, not giving her what she so desperately yearns for. "Ah, Chloe, my sweet little hero, you should know by now how this works. When I ask you to tell me something, I expect a clear answer!"

A desperate moan leaves her as she scrambles for words. Everything around her is hazy and soft, and the air is sweet, like Chloe can taste some of his aether on it.

"I don't know what I want," she gets out with a sigh, and behind her, Emet-Selch chuckles dangerously low.

"Now that's a blatant lie, my dear," he decides. He takes his hand away, and the noise of distress that leaves her mouth only seems to amuse him more. A rush of aether brushes over her back, and for a moment, all Chloe can feel is a stab of white-hot pain. When it ebbs off, her body is shaking, and she is moaning shamelessly, slightly straining against her restraints. "There is something you want rather badly, all you have to do is admit it and ask."

She knows exactly what he means, but it's somehow more difficult than she ever thought it could be. To her surprise, though, Emet-Selch seems to know exactly what is going on.

"Look at you, being all confused and insecure about what you are feeling. I hurt you good, didn't I?" he asks in a quiet whisper as his hands run over the insides of her thighs again, and Chloe can do nothing but nod with a whimper. "All that pain would make many people run away, but not you, hero. No, you find it  beautiful."

His words hurt nearly as much as his hands on her back had, making her flinch and strain against her restraints again. They are undoubtedly true, just as Chloe knows there has to be something seriously wrong with that.

"You are ashamed and afraid that after all this, what you want most is for me to fuck you until you forget your own name, isn't that right?"

Chloe can't help but moan blatantly at his words before she nods, her fingers clenching into the sheets.

"Yes, please," she begs, unable to hold back even with the shame nearly crushing her. "I need... something! I need you!"

A low chuckle reaches her ear as his aether dissipates, and suddenly she can move again. Not that she really gets the chance before he pulls her up and turns her around.

"Sweet, dear Chloe," Emet-Selch murmurs as he draws her onto his lap. His cock rubs tantalizingly against her, but he still doesn't let her have what she yearns for, not yet. "You can have everything you want, my dear, you just have to take it."

He is right, she realizes, and he is no longer restraining her movement, nor does he make any effort to hold her in place. Her back still hurts, and she notices he makes an effort not to touch her there, and suddenly the curiosity to see what he has actually done is nearly unbearable.

"Show me what you did," she whispers, looking up at his face with a pleading gaze. "I want to see!"

Emet-Selch's smile only widens as he snaps his fingers once.

"Look behind you."

When she turns her head, there is a giant mirror behind her, right at the foot of the bed and what she sees in it nearly takes her breath away. If her back feels like it is on fire, there is a good reason for it, she realizes as she sees the intricate pattern he has quite literally burned into her flesh. A pattern that looks vaguely familiar, something she has seen before, even though right now she can't remember where exactly. That is until she looks up and sees the same lines glowing red from magic hovering in front of his face. The red glyph he sometimes wears like a mask, he has burned the entirety of it into her skin over the full length of her back.

"I told you, no one will ever be able to question again who you belong to," Emet-Selch murmurs against her skin, letting his lips brush over her strained neck.

Chloe swallows, thinking about just how much healing magic it would take to heal scars of this size and number, and as if he knows exactly what she's thinking about, Emet-Selch lets out a low chuckle.

"Go on, try to heal at least part of it."

He is goading her; of that, Chloe is sure. There is something in his voice that makes it obvious that this is more complex than it seems, and it almost sounds like he  wants  her to try and defy him. Still looking in the mirror behind her, Chloe summons a small amount of magic, focusing only on a corner around her shoulder, slowly healing up the marred skin. She can feel while doing so already that his searing touch has not just scratched the surface. He has burned his mark deeply into her flesh, and it takes a considerable amount of aether to heal just the smallest part. When she stops after healing only an inch of her skin, she does so while breathing heavily, realizing just how much magic it took out of her, and a moment later, Emet-Selch's lips are at her ear, teeth pulling slightly at her earlobe before he whispers, "I suggest you breathe deeply, my dear."

With a confused frown, she's about to turn and ask why when she suddenly stiffens as a searing pain, equivalent to the most painful parts of what he had done to her back, goes through her shoulder. With wide eyes, Chloe watches in the mirror how the freshly healed scar returns as it gets burned into her again. Her hands dig into his shoulders, and her head falls forward against his chest as she breathes through the unexpected pain. It's not worse than anything he had done earlier, but this comes as a surprise. Her whole body is tense, even when the sensation subsides, and all that remains is a dull throbbing in her shoulder. She shivers slightly, unsure what it might mean that despite all of this, her arousal hasn't waned, not even by a little.

"What exactly have you done?"

Despite the desire running through her and making her whole body throb with need, her curiosity still shines through.

"Simply weaving a little enchantment into my touch," Emet-Selch says, sounding impossibly casual like all of this is an everyday occurrence for him. "Something to stay with you wherever you go."

Chloe knows she should be far more worried about this, concerned about the fact that he has just efficiently scarred her for life and embedded a part of his magic into her, but his words send a pleasant shiver through her instead. 

His.  

He sounds incredibly possessive when claiming her as such, and it makes something in her go nearly insane with lust. This can't be normal, a small, rational part of her insists. None of her reactions are appropriate for what he has done, and she should worry far more about what else he might have in store for her, but none of these thoughts fall on fertile ground. Not when watching his glyph on her back lets her only think about something far more primal right now.

"You said I could have whatever I want, that I just have to take it," Chloe murmurs, taking another long look before she turns back to look at Emet-Selch. 

He doesn't say anything, but the look on his face speaks volumes. His eyes are brimming with desire, and two fingers lift her chin just a little, beckoning her closer with the slightest of touches. Not that Chloe needs that encouragement. Without further thought, her hands wander from his shoulders to his chest, and when she gives it a hard push, Emet-Selch lets her. There is absolutely no resistance when she leads him to lie on his back. His eyes gleam with a knowing look, and a moment later, Chloe wraps her hand around his cock, giving him a couple of strokes before she gets herself in position so she can guide it inside her. When she slowly sinks down, reveling in the feeling of him filling her deeply, she lets out a low moan. 

There is something that feels different about this. Emet-Selch is no longer holding her down, she is free to move however she wants, and yet all she can think of is the closeness she's felt when he had her restrained. Part of her almost wants to ask him to take her back to that. She knows he has an easy time overpowering her; it would take him no effort to flip them over and make sure she has no choice but to take every touch he deigns to bestow upon her in stride.

He hasn't let her set the pace for anything quite like this before. It feels a little strange, not simply letting things happen to her. For the first time, she gets to actively decide what she wants next, and when Chloe moves her hips, feeling him inside her as she does so, she takes in a sharp gasp. When she looks at Emet-Selch, she finds his eyes fixed on her with an almost expectant gleam in them.

"Look at you," he murmurs with a low groan as she grinds her hips down against him. "You are a joy to watch when you just  take,  my dear. So beautiful when giving in to your desires."

Chloe leans back a little, slowly finding a rhythm as she rides him, and Emet-Selch looks nothing but enraptured by the sight of her above him. His hands roam over the insides of her thighs, not holding her or pushing her to move in any way different but simply touching her like he, too, can't get enough of the feeling of her skin under his fingers.

She can see a hint of tension in his arms. Emet-Selch is just as on edge about all this as she is, she realizes. Holding her down, branding her, and hearing her sobs while pleading for more has him wound up with desire. That he holds himself back and lets her set the pace now is almost impressive, given how thoroughly he had dominated every more intimate moment between them until now. 

Her hands come to rest on his chest, steadying her as she starts to lift herself a bit more and sinks back down. With every move, the skin on her back protests, setting a stinging pain down along her spine, but the sensation doesn't deter her. On the contrary, Chloe arches her back just so, enough to make it a bit more intense. If there is one thing she has begun to understand over the past few days with Emet-Selch, it's that she enjoys a very specific kind of pain just as much as the pleasure he promises her. Both make her feel alive, brimming with energy. Even more so since she understands the effect her willingness to let him hurt her has on him.

She wonders if he truly is as willing to let her do anything she wants as she is, and her fingers twitch before she digs her nails into his skin a little. Emet-Selch draws in a sharp breath as she pierces his skin, and Chloe bites her lips at the spark of need that runs through her at his reaction. He doesn't flinch away, nor does he make any move to stop her. On the contrary, his gaze looks like a clear challenge.

"You are so close," he says in a low and terribly enticing voice. "So close to realizing something." Emet-Selch lets out a deep groan as she moves a little faster and her fingers dig into his flesh. "Just a little bit more," he encourages her, shifting his hips just enough to meet her movements perfectly now. She can't say for sure what he might mean. The dull, pulsating pain on her back, together with the almost blinding need that drives her, have her firmly in their grasp. Faster and faster, she moves her hips, and when her hands leave deep scratches behind on Emet-Selch's chest, his low moan sends a shiver of lust through her whole body. 

Chloe knows he is possessive, her burning back is a testament to that, but for the first time, she thinks she might not just like that about him but also start to understand. For a moment, her fingers twitch against his skin with the urge to cling to him and mark him as thoroughly as he has marked her, and the mere thought seems to be enough to tip her over the edge. She comes with a sharp cry, and from the way Emet-Selch's hips meet her and still, she knows he's right there with her. Her name falls from his lips, and Chloe sinks down, her lower arms steadying her on each side of his head as her hands dive into his hair and she kisses him.

She is almost a bit shocked by how urgent the kiss feels, how much hunger is palpable in every small movement of her lips against his. Her tongue pushes into his mouth, driven by an inexplicable need for something more, something she can barely make sense of. The most overwhelming bit about this being, that the need Chloe feels is entirely her own. This is not her getting swept up in something he does to overwhelm her, she knows that in her heart. This is something she wants for herself and all on her own, maybe more than she has ever wanted anything before, and the feeling is both exhilarating and a little bit frightening. 

When Chloe finally draws back with a sigh, Emet-Selch seems somehow different. It takes her a moment to realize what it is. He looks content, at ease, like for once he sees nothing wrong with the world, at least for the moment. He moves, stretching out an arm in an inviting gesture. Carefully, Chloe moves off him, trying not to agitate her back more than necessary as she comes to rest against his side, letting her head sing against his shoulder. Emet-Selch takes care to wrap his arm around her in a way that doesn't hurt, resting against her side and with his hand lying on her hips. His other hand reaches over, siding through her hair and along her cheek, and for the moment, Chloe thinks she has never been this at ease before. 

They simply stay like this for a while, each lost in gently touching the other. Not a word is spoken for long enough that Chloe almost flinches from how loud it sounds when she finally does.

"I have a few questions," she murmurs. Her head is full of them. Everything she has learned over the past few days, everything she has seen, and some of the things Emet-Selch had remarked without going into too much detail have been swirling around in her head, some things fitting together more easily than others, but all of them leave her with brimming with curiosity. 

Emet-Selch says nothing, only letting out a low hum of approval, but even with that encouragement, Chloe hesitates a bit. There are things she wants to know, desperately so, but at the same time, she isn't sure if it is truly her place to ask. There is only one way to find out, though.

"Tell me about who I used to be," Chloe asks quietly, and underneath her, Emet-Selch stills. Silence stretches for a moment before she gives herself a push to continue. "I'm not stupid, you know? You didn't say anything out loud, but I am very good at listening, and from the bits and pieces you deigned to share, there are only a few conclusions to be drawn."

"Was one of these conclusions perhaps the realization that I'm not really willing to talk about this?"

Emet-Selch sounds once again like he is mocking her, but underneath the light tone, Chloe thinks she can hear something else. A terse tension that also runs through his entire body now. But the most notable thing is that he doesn't deny anything, nor does he tell her that her conclusions are wrong.

"You know things about me, things that no one else knows. You understand how I think and feel while I still know next to nothing about you," she points out. "That sounds terribly unfair."

"And yet you ask about yourself, not about me, my dear," he points out with a slightly condescending look, and Chloe shifts a little, letting her head rest on her arm as she looks at him with a frown. 

"I have the feeling the two are connected, are they not?" When Emet-Selch stays strangely quiet, Chloe lifts her head a little to glance at him. "Do you need me to beg again?" she asks with a small frown. "Because I absolutely could, I think I'm slowly getting used to this."

"As tempting as that sounds, I am not holding out on you to make you do things for me right now," he replies with a sigh that only manages to make her frown deepen.

"But you  are  holding out on me."

It's not a question anymore. Emet-Selch has all but confirmed that there is something to her speculation. He might have his reasons for not wanting to talk about it, but that doesn't quell Chloe's curiosity in the least.

"How about you-" she starts when suddenly a sharp stab of pain runs through her head. 

With a pained groan, Chloe clutches her head, trying to shake off the sensation of the ground being pulled out from under her, but when a second later the room around her starts to get blurry, she curses through clenched teeth.

"No, not again..."

She  knows  this feeling, this sensation of time and space warping, something pulling at her with all of its might. In the distance, she can hear a muffled voice calling. It's in her head, strangely familiar and unsettling at the same time. Next to her, Emet-Selch has sat up, his hands clasped around her shoulders now as he makes her face him.

"What is going on?"

If she wasn't in so much pain from something tugging at her mind, Chloe would almost be amused about how she is rather certain she has never heard him quite this concerned before.  For her.

The sensations around her grow stronger, and she knows what comes next is inevitable. She can't stop it, and she can't explain enough to Emet-Selch right now to get him to help her. There is only one thing she can still think of.

"Clothes!" Chloe gets out with a choked groan. "I need clothes..."

She can see a look of confusion on his face from the corner of her eyes, but when she reaches for him, Emet-Selch snaps his fingers with a frown, covering her in the same clothes she had worn while training. And just in time, too. Everything around her goes out of focus. She hisses a little as the fabric covers her still sensitive back, and Chloe can feel Emet-Selch's hand on her arm, grabbing her. He is saying something, voice sharp and demanding, but she can't understand, and then his touch disappears as the unmistakable pull of a teleportation spell becomes too much. 

It is over in seconds, and when Chloe's eyes open, she can't see for a second, but she hears someone speak.

"There we go, I've found her."

Everything is white light, and she is terribly disoriented, but to her own surprise, she isn't afraid. Like when Emet-Selch had made her train against the Sin Eaters, instinct takes over, and she realizes he has given her not only the clothes she wore but also the weapon he gifted her. Within seconds and while still unable to see, she has it unsheathed, already feeling the void-stained part of her soul taking form, ready to lend its aid when Chloe hears a sharp gasp.

Blinking through the haze of teleporting, she finds herself standing in the Ocularum, the Crystal Exarch in front of her, neck straining against the sharp blade of her scythe hovering close and looking at her like he has just seen a ghost.

Chapter Text

It takes Chloe a couple of breaths to fully grasp what happened exactly, and when she does, her face twists in anger. The relieved sighs and exclamations around her safe return go quiet as the mood in the room shifts into something far more careful.

In front of her, the Exarch lowers his staff and gradually takes a step back. He tilts his head in a curious manner, and even though she can't see his face, she knows her eyes run over her, taking in her whole disheveled appearance. 

"What happened to you, my friend?" he finally asks, and Chloe lets out a scoff.

"We are not friends," she shoots back, ignoring the hint of guilt rising in her when she watches the Exarch flinch as she narrows her eyes. "What happened was that I was minding my own business when someone deemed it fit to forcefully rip me away and bring me somewhere else.  Again!"  

"We were worried. We had no means to determine where you were," comes Y'shtola's calming voice from her side, taking a little bit of her anger away with how sincere she sounds. Chloe's shoulders sink a little, and she can feel the presence of the void creature slowly sink back into her. It doesn't manage to calm her completely, though, and the scars on her back sting enough to keep some of her anger alive.

"And no one thought that I maybe simply wanted to be left alone for a bit?"

"We did, actually," Thancred speaks this time, a half-smile on his face as he shrugs a little. "That's why we waited a while."

"A while," Chloe murmurs, a frown appearing on her face. "I wasn't even gone that long," she insists, confused by how his expression shifts as his brows raise.

"Chloe, you were gone for days, your room was empty, and no one knew if something had happened to you."

Something about this doesn't sound right.

"Wait, days?" Chloe shakes her head. That can't be. Her recollection of her time spent with Emet-Selch is maybe a little bit on the hazy side, but it had felt much shorter than that to her. "I was away for a day at best," she says, much more subdued now, but when she looks up and sees Thancred shake his head, she swallows heavily. "Oh."

"No one had seen you leave, and when I returned to the Crystarium, the Ascian was there, being all cryptic again," he explains further, this time with an obvious hint of distaste in his voice. "He thanked me, refused to elaborate on what he was thanking me for, and then disappeared as well." Thancred's eyes narrow. "Was he the one taking you away? We haven't heard anything from him either since then."

"No, he didn't," Chloe hurries to say, but she can tell already that Thancred instantly knows there is something more to all this. "I went back to the cave in Rak'tika on my own. I needed time to think, to breathe," she explains, and while Thancred only looks at her with curious eyes, it's the Exarch who suddenly speaks up again.

"But he found you," he says, matter-of-factly, and when Chloe is unable to deny that fact, he takes a step closer, his eyes now firmly glued to her scythe before they wander to where she knows that in her initial panic, the avatar had been hovering behind her shoulder. "Chloe! What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," she insists with a sharp voice, immediately going on the defensive. She doesn't even truly know this man, who suddenly sounds like she is somehow a disappointment to him. She doesn't owe him anything, neither assurance nor explanation. But he is not the only one in the room, and her friends certainly deserve something more. "Fine," Chloe murmurs with a sigh. "Some things, but there was nothing I didn't want."

"The weapon and that creature," Thancred starts, and Chloe can hear in his voice that he is still worried about her, something she can't blame him for.

"He taught me how to combat the Sin Eaters better, how to be more at ease in a fight." Her hand is firm in its grip on the scythe as she looks from the weapon to Thancred and back. "That creature is a longer story, but most importantly, it means me no harm, and it helps."

She can see that he has more questions, but Thancred knows her enough not to ask them right now, in front of everyone else. Instead, he just gives her a short nod. Not everyone is as understanding as him, though.

"I think you need to explain," the Exarch states, and Chloe bristles at the hint of demand in his voice.

"I think you don't get to make any suggestions," she hisses, and he takes a step back again, shoulders tense now.

"Excuse me?"

Without taking her eyes off him, Chloe gestures at Thancred and Y'shtola. "They might deserve an explanation from me, as my friends, but you don't," she says, her voice unusually hard now. "Twice you have used your magic now to forcefully rip me away from somewhere without giving me a choice, and you might think your reasons are important enough to justify that, but to me, they aren't."

"Chloe..." the Exarch starts again, but this time she isn't willing to let him talk at all anymore.

"No," she simply says, frowning as she finally sheathes her scythe. "You want my help with things? Learn to fucking ask for it instead of forcefully yanking me around and leaving me no choice."

He seems genuinely taken aback now, but his voice is terse as he replies, "It was not my intention to force you into anything."

It might not have been so originally, but that doesn't change the things that have happened in the least.

"Well, you did it anyway." With a look around, her frown deepens. "And because of that, they are all trapped here," she says with a gesture at the other Scions. "And I can't leave, no matter how much I want to.  You  caused this."

"To ask for your help!"

The Exarch is insistent now, his hand visibly tightening around his staff, but for once, Chloe finds herself unable to relent or back down.

"Only you didn't  ask  at all," she points out. "And once I was here, I hardly had the choice to say no now, didn't I?"

The frustration rolling off him is almost palpable now, and from the corner of her eyes, she can see that Y'shtola's shoulders are tense, too. The other woman is on the verge of interrupting them, but for now, she still holds back.

"Don't you understand?" the Exarch implores her. "This entire world  needs  you. I couldn't risk you saying no!"

Chloe understands only all too well. It is the same reasoning she has encountered again and again over the years. And for the most part, she went along with it without complaint. But after the last couple of days, it seems impossible not to see the flaw behind that argument when one thing always seems to be less important than anything else.  Her.  Until Emet-Selch, no one had ever deigned to ask her if she even wants to do what people expect from her. Everyone always just quietly assumes that she is perfectly fine with putting the greater good above anything, with putting herself last to a point where she has forgotten how it feels to want something for herself. That she genuinely wants to help people has never been in question. Chloe knows she would hardly say no to a genuine plea for help. Is it truly too much to ask to let it be her choice, though?

"So when exactly does it become alright to impose your will on someone else?" she asks tonelessly. "At what point do you have the right to decide for me?"

Emet-Selch had made a point about giving her a choice. Granted, he had nudged and prodded and certainly hadn't been above influencing her however he could, but at the same time, he had never crossed certain boundaries with her. On the contrary, he had gone out of his way to make sure that the choice of doing so was hers to make. It feels almost painfully ironic that it's the Exarch now, the one clearly on the less destructive side of the current conflict, that seems unwilling to afford her the same courtesy.

"I'd say the fate of an entire world warrants disregarding someone's personal feelings," he says, sounding remarkably calm, clearly convinced of his point.

"That sounds like something easy to say if you are not the person having to do the saving."

It might not be an entirely fair complaint. Chloe has no idea what he might have given up to walk the path he did, but at the moment, those details don't matter to her. They are at an impasse, Chloe realizes. They won't see eye to eye on this, and she is not the only one noticing as Y'shtola decides to no longer watch quietly and step in between them.

"This is leading nowhere," her friend says calmly, sending the Exarch a sharp look before she turns to Chloe. "I am just glad you are unharmed, but you look exhausted. Everything else can be a discussion for later, perhaps?"

It's diplomatic, and Y'thola's words have precisely the effect her friend most likely intended. They loosen the tension somewhat, and Chloe takes a deep breath.

"You're right. This is a moot point now," she agrees. But Chloe isn't entirely ready to concede completely, and her jaw tightens as she looks at the Exarch again. "I am going to finish this," she promises him. "I will do my best to save this world, but on my terms. Since I'm the one doing all the dirty work, that seems only fair, does it not?"

There is a clear challenge to her words, and the Exarch tenses again.

"Do you really think it's wise to-"

"Let her finish," Thancred stops him, and Chloe sends him a grateful look.

"I will take care of the last two Sin Eaters," she says, gesturing at the scythe on her back. "I am much better equipped to do so now." Her eyes are fixed on the Exarch when she adds, "And you will find a way to get my friends back home." 

It's not a question, and she doesn't wait for a reply before she takes another deep breath and turns around.

"I'm going back to my room, and I hope to the Twelve that the next time you require my presence, you have the decency to ask."

Chloe knows she will still have to talk to her friends, but she desperately needs to leave the Ocular behind for now, unable to stand the tension between her and the Exarch for much longer. Despite her bout of courage and self-assured appearance, confrontation is still not something she knows how to handle well. She will just have to find the others again later and talk to them far away from all this.

She doesn't make her way to her room right away. Instead, she takes a small detour through the Crystarium's gardens. It's the one place that never fails to help her calm down somewhat. Only today, when she walks her usual path, something tugs heavily on her heart.

Her small garden patch is in shambles. 

A few neighboring patches are in equally bad shape, but Chloe only has eyes for one spot. Maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise, she thinks. The attack of the Sin Eaters had the entire Crystarium on high alert and its population in a panic. From the path of destruction and the many heavy footprints in the dried mud, she suspects a part of the guard must have come running through here, taking care to try and move around the larger patches at least. 

Overall it's not a big loss. A couple of tomato plants will not be missed. She knows that well enough, and yet seeing the trampled plants, leaves already turning brown, feels strangely reminiscent of how Chloe had felt right after the battle. Like something had run her over, leaving behind a broken husk.

Those plants are done for. They had no one to take care of them right after they got crushed, no one to patch them up and nurture them back to their full strength, or to give them something to hold on to and make them stronger. 

Unlike her.

When Chloe thinks back to the time they had first met, she vividly remembers Emet-Selch comparing mortals like her to a bunch of weeds, and yet he had been the one making sure that she didn't wilt.

By now, Chloe has a very good idea of just why that might be, and she is determined to get him to talk about it the next time she sees him, one way or another.

She hears a noise behind her, and for a second, she wonders if Emet-Selch has already found her, but when she turns, it's Thancred who walks up to stand beside her. He, too, takes a look at the trampled garden with her, and in a way, it makes it easier that he isn't looking her in the eyes when the inevitable question finally comes.

"So, Emet-Selch," Thancred starts, and from the corner of her eye, Chloe notices the twitch in his jaw, but her friend seems to make an effort to stay calm, something she appreciates more than just a little. "Since when?"

A simple question, yet one that has no one simple answer.

"Since when do I talk to him without any of you knowing, since when have I started to sleep with him, or since when did I realize I definitely have really inconvenient feelings for him?" Chloe asks, sighing deeply as she stares ahead into the dirt. It won't do trying to beat around the bush now, not when Thancred has clearly put two and two together. "The answer would be my very first trip to Eulmore, the night we spent in Il Mheg, and I seriously don't know."

"That long?"

It's only two words, but there is no denying the clear sound of hurt in Thancred's voice. A reaction that isn't unreasonable at all, and with another sigh, Chloe turns toward him.

"I wanted to tell you, I almost did a couple of times, but then..." She bites her lips for a moment, knowing there isn't anything she can say to make this any better. "I was afraid of how you would react and what you would think of me," she finally admits, lowering her eyes as her shoulders sink. "Your own history with Ascians..."

"Is mine to deal with, and mine alone," Thancred interrupts her, turning to face her as well. "I would not have been happy to hear any of this, but come on, Chloe, it's us. You and me. We don't keep secrets like this from one another!"

He is right. Thancred, for all intents and purposes, is the closest thing Chloe has to family. The one who's always been on her side and who has had her back more than anyone else. He has every reason to be angry at her for this. Chloe knows wishing she'd approached things differently won't do anything now.

"I'm sorry," she whispers regardless.

What comes completely unexpected is his arm sneaking around her shoulders and pulling her close into a familiar embrace. His touch brushes against the edges of the burns on her back, but to her relief, he seems to take her little flinch more as a general surprise and doesn't say anything about it.

"I know," he murmurs as he rests his head against hers. "That was pretty stupid of you."

"It was," Chloe murmurs in agreement before she closes her eyes for a minute. "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Thancred answers quietly. The moment Chloe leans back to look at him, he lets his arm fall away.

"Are you going to warn me away from him now?" she asks carefully. "Tell me how dangerous he is and how stupid I am being?"

She doesn't mean to sound exasperated or bitter, and yet there is a hint of both in her voice. Luckily, Thancred doesn't seem to care much about that.

"Looks to me like you already told yourself all that on your own, and it definitely didn't do any good, right?"

His pointed words are not wrong at all. She has told herself these things numerous times, and yet it has never been enough to dissuade her from anything.

"He makes me feel things I've never felt before," Chloe tries to explain. "And I know it might sound insane, but I believe he cares about me."

"Enough to keep you safe and sound?"

At Thancred's raised brow, Chloe lets out a small scoff.

"Does anyone else?"

Her remark startles him.

"Chloe..." he starts, and Chloe can practically see his face fall.

"I don't mean it as an accusation, but let's face it, I constantly go up against odds that are not in my favor. None of you have ever stopped me from that, regardless of the risks, on the contrary." 

More often than not, her friends are both encouraging and enabling her to face those risks. For the greater good, of course, but it doesn't change the fact that she is regularly in great danger with their blessing.

"With the things we do, there is no one out there who makes sure we are safe at any cost. We hope for the best, but there is always something more important than personal safety."

It is obvious he doesn't like what she's saying, but Thancred doesn't object. He listens, a frown etched deeply into his face before he finally lets out a deep sigh.

"You're not wrong. I hate to say it, but..."

He trails off, and Chloe hums in quiet acknowledgment. It shouldn't be this way, and they both know it, just as they both know it can't be any different. When Chloe speaks again, her voice is full of quiet determination.

"After this? After we've saved this world, I am done."

Thancred takes in a sharp gasp, a slightly shocked look on his face, but before he can say anything more, Chloe shakes her head. 

"I can't go on living like this anymore. And I know there will always be a new danger, a new threat to face, no matter how many things we solve, no matter how many evils we vanquish."

"So you plan to do what, join the evil instead?" he asks with a frown, and Chloe turns back to face her tarnished garden. She can't say how much of this is actually about Emet-Selch. Meeting him has certainly been a turning point for her, but her own emotions feel as raw as the burns on her back do, impossible to fully grasp and understand right now.

"I don't know yet," she answers honestly. "I'm not planning to. I don't know where this leads, with him, I mean, but even if it ends tomorrow, I know I can't go back to how things were before."

She has been miserable for so many years, and now that she is finally able to see how much of life she has been missing out on, the thought of returning to the way things were is nothing short of terrifying.

"Chloe," Thancred prompts, and when she looks at him again, he reaches for her hand, holding it tightly between his own. "I know much has been asked of you, much more than of any other person I know. Maybe more than anyone has a right to ask, but I am begging you, don't do something rash." When she frowns at him, Thancred hurries to add, "I'm not saying you shouldn't strive for something more, for a life that makes you truly happy, but I'm asking you, as your friend, to take some time first. Let's finish things here together. And once it's done, we'll sit down and talk again." 

Chloe knows the hesitation is visible in her eyes, and the smile Thancred gives her turns slightly crooked, and a hint of sadness hovers behind his eyes.

"If after all this you truly want to leave, I will not stop you," he says, something wistful in his voice. "It is your choice to make, and you have every right to make it." 

Once more, he wraps an arm around her to hug her closely, and Chloe bites back another flinch, not wanting to let her injuries ruin this moment between them. She nods quietly, and at her assurance, Thancred's smile turns a little brighter. 

"And you can be damn well sure that even if I don't understand some of them, you'll not get rid of me over the choices you make."

The assurance in his words shakes something loose, and a moment later, she hugs him back, clinging to him fiercely as she murmurs a quiet thank you against his clothes.

"What is family for, hm?" Thancred murmurs, and for a long time, they just keep standing like this, ignoring everything around them.

Eventually, the skies above turn darker, and it gets notably colder around them, and when more than one yawn escapes her, Thancred lets go.

"You look like you need to sleep for a day at least," he says with a low chuckle. "How about you rest, and tomorrow I'll fill you in on what we've already planned for finding the next Warden, and you can tell us that long story about that scythe you showed up with?"

There is no judgment in his voice now, and Chloe lets out a relieved sigh before she nods.

"That sounds doable," she agrees with a smile, and when they walk back inside, her heart is a little bit lighter than before.

The first thing she does when returning to her room is taking the scythe and carefully putting it in the corner right next to the door. The room looks exactly as he had left it. Some drawers are still open, a few clothes strewn across the floor, painting a picture of someone leaving in a hurry. Seeing this now makes it even more obvious just why her friends had been worried, and Chloe feels a pang of guilt go through her at the realization that she hadn't thought of them at all while being with Emet-Selch these past days. She has never been quite this selfish before, and while being with him, it had felt frighteningly right, but now, looking at it with a bit of distance and a clearer head, the picture looks a little different.

Her eyes linger on the sight of her backpack sitting on one of the chairs, and Chloe frowns. The last time she remembers having it had been in the cave in Rak'tika, and her lips turn into a smile.

"You brought my things back," she says fondly into the empty room, and a second later, she hears a rustling, letting her know it's not as empty as she thought it was.

"I thought you might be upset over losing your gardening tools."

Emet-Selch's voice comes from right behind her, and when Chloe turns around, he is right there, his hand on her cheek, tilting her head a little as his eyes search her features.

"I see no ill effects lingering from that ghastly teleportation magic," he murmurs.

He is concerned, Chloe realizes as she sees Emet-Selch's look for what it is. Much like the glimpse of it she had gotten while being whisked away out of his embrace.

"I am fine," she assures him, leaning a little into his touch, her tiredness almost forgotten for the moment. "Apparently, I was with you longer than I realized, and some people got... concerned." She doesn't really want to think back to the tense moment in the ocular. At least not right now, with him right here.

"I heard that altercation," Emet-Selch says, and when her eyes widen, he simply shrugs. "I followed you the second you disappeared but thought it wise not to show myself to your friends in this situation." His eyes suddenly narrow. "I also heard you declare going after the remaining lightwardens by yourself."

Even when not saying it clearly, the hint of disapproval is clearly audible in his voice, and Chloe swallows heavily before her eyes meet his.

"Do you think I'm still not capable? That I need more training?"

She had surely felt up to the task after fighting him for hours and feeling nothing but invigorated by it, but there is always the possibility that the battle high had made her overconfident.

His fingers twitch against her cheek for a second before Emet-Selch shakes his head.

"A Lightwarden is no match for you, my dear."

He manages to sound both fond and strangely unkind at the same time, and a frown appears on her face.

"Then what is the matter?" she asks before a thought runs through her, and she tilts her head with a curious look. "Do you want me to stop? Or are you telling me not to do it?"

Emet-Selch's eyes are hard and unreadable, and when he speaks, it's almost through gritted teeth.

"Whatever you will decide," he says slowly, "I am not going to tell you what to do."

Chloe has the curious feeling that even while he takes great care to make this abundantly clear to her, she can almost sense the underlying wish to do something vastly different.

She tilts her head, trying to understand the conflicting feelings she gets from him. 

"You are clearly unhappy with that thought, and yet..."

Emet-Selch takes his hand back like her words have stung him, and his eyes narrow dangerously.

"Do you think that should give me the right to bend you to my whims?"

The sudden harshness in his voice makes her almost flinch away, but Chloe stands her ground regardless.

"No, but you could still tell me why you wouldn't want me to," she points out. "Maybe your argument is good enough that it would change my mind."

At her words, Emet-Selch lets out a hollow laugh.

"Oh, but that is a very slippery slope, my dear." When she sees his eyes, she almost gasps at how they seem to be brimming with nothing but regret. "You have no idea how much I would-" 

Emet-Selch cuts himself off and turns away, walking over to the open window overlooking the Crystarium gardens.

"You asked me to tell you about who you were once upon a time," he says, pointedly looking outside as if he can't bear to see her right now before he lets out a sigh. "Perhaps some of this tale will finally make you understand."

Chapter Text

Chloe waits with bated breath for him to say something more, but Emet-Selch takes his time. He looks outside, leaning against the window frame as if he doesn't have a care in the world. It's an act, of course, that much she knows by now, but if he needs it to give himself the time he requires to finally tell her the things she wants to know, Chloe will not draw any attention to the fact that she is perfectly aware of this.

And then, he finally begins to speak, and what he tells her seems almost too surreal to take in. Emet-Selch talks about a world unsundered as if it was paradise incarnate. He speaks of peaceful people living for an age, of working together to gain a greater understanding of their world, about concepts and magic so powerful they could create new life as easy as breathing. He tells her about a city gleaming against the sky, vast and incomprehensible in size and beauty, and about a garden that sounds like the most perfect place Chloe could imagine. It sounds almost too good to believe, but despite that, Chloe has the overwhelming certainty rush through her that every word he says is the truth.

Without thought, she moves close and closer until she stands right next to him, and when Emet-Selch turns to look at her, seeing the blatant curiosity she is brimming with on her face, his face takes on a pained expression. His fingers brush over her temple, his touch on her skin gentle and feeling almost absent-minded.

"No recognition," Emet-Selch murmurs as he searches her eyes. "Not a hint of it. I could tell you everything I remember, and none of it would spark even the slightest true memory in you." He takes a deep breath. "This is why I never planned on telling you even this much."

Chloe swallows heavily at the hint of disappointment she thinks she can hear in his voice.

"I can't remember," she says with a slight shake of her head. "But telling me means something!"

Emet-Selch clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Indeed, it means I am a fool clinging to the nostalgia of something long gone."

His voice is a bit harsher now, but somehow that harshness doesn't seem to be directed at her. It's more like he is angry at himself, and Chloe reaches for him, her hand covering his own against her cheek.

"It means you grieve for something you lost, and that I can relate to," she points out, remembering something he said to her in the cave in Rak'tika. "You really meant it when you said time doesn't heal all wounds."

As quickly as it has appeared, the harshness on his face and in his voice ebbs away.

"I'm sorry to dissuade you from any hopes you had," Emet-Selch says surprisingly gently, and Chloe sighs as she leans into his touch.

"Don't be, I think I've always known. Maybe that's why it still hurts so badly, even after many years," she murmurs, and to her surprise, she sees something akin to sympathy in his eyes. "For me, it was my family. What have you lost that you can never let go of?"

Emet-Selch lets his hand fall away, and for a second, Chloe bemoans the loss of the tentative intimacy before he moves. He nudges her along as he sits on the bench under the window until she follows and lets herself be drawn onto his lap. The skin on her back still hurts a little when she moves, but Emet-Selch makes sure to wrap an arm around her in a way that makes it easier, and Chloe sighs as she sinks into his embrace. For a moment, she just closes her eyes, wondering if he is actually going to answer her question, but she doesn't have to wonder for long.

"Family, in a sense," Emet-Selch says before he touches her face again, making her open her eyes and face him. " You , my dear. You were the brightest, most brilliant soul I had ever seen. And for a while... you were mine."

She can't deny the shiver that goes through her at that last word, the rawness of his voice nearly making her forget anything with the desire to simply draw him closer and kiss him again, but there is another part that stays on her mind.

"For a while..." Chloe echoes quietly instead, and the look of sorrow in Emet-Selch's eyes has her nearly gasping for air.

"It didn't last," he says quietly, almost looking through her now, absentmindedly caressing her shoulder through her clothes. "We were supposed to grow old together, return to the star together. You, me, and... somebody else."

"Wait, there was somebody else?" Her brows raise at his last words, and curiously, Chloe looks at him. "For you or for me?"

From the small things Emet-Selch has let slip before, Chloe thought she had somewhat of an idea about them, about what they might have meant to each other, but this is something entirely new.

"Nothing to the sort," Emet-Selch says with a slight scoff. "For both of us. All three of us belonged together."

There is so much gravity and conviction in his voice that Chloe can't help but take it at face value, even without any memories of her own. Her mind is brimming with questions, one more urgent than the other, but at the same time, she is very aware that this is not a topic Emet-Selch talks about lightly. She can tell from the tone of his voice and the way his body feels slightly tense against her, and so she pushes most of her questions aside, focusing on one of the less daunting ones. 

"How did we meet?" she asks, utterly mesmerized by the way the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile.

"Under the most peculiar circumstances," Emet-Selch says, strangely wistful as he shakes his head, and then his next words seem to come surprisingly easy. "You see, I had the most incorrigible associate, who, in turn, got sent the most outrageous concepts for plant-based life you could think of." He pauses for a moment, smiling to himself before he continues. "Massive flowers with the hunting instinct of a predator, faster than some animals. Giant beings with a breath to foul it would bring someone to their knees, and yet they had an impeccably good influence on their surroundings. Concept after concept, one more out there than the other. Enough to drive the man in charge of approving them to pay said creative mind a visit. One he dragged me along to."

Chloe listens with wide eyes, feeling surprisingly touched by the fondness in his voice and curious as to where this tale of him is going."

"Why did you join your associate if you didn't want to go?"

At her innocent question, Emet-Selch lets out another scoff, but this time, he is visibly amused.

"I believe he phrased it as me owing him a 'fun vacation.'"

Chloe's eyebrows rise as she begins to understand how vast of an understatement the word associate truly is.

"And?" she prompts. "Did it turn out to be a 'fun vacation' in the end?"

"That, and then some," Emet-Selch says, still smiling a little when Chloe feels brave enough to ask another question.

"What was his name?"

She isn't prepared for the look on his face to change this drastically within seconds.

"It hardly matters now, does it?" Emet-Selch's voice is a good bit less wistful now. "It's not like it would mean or change anything for you."

Chloe tenses, hurt by the dismissal until she thinks back to something he said earlier. 'No recognition.'

"You don't want to hear me say his name without realizing what it means," she murmurs quietly. "Just like you won't tell me yours for the same reason." Emet-Selch doesn't answer, but Chloe knows she is right about this, and with a resigned sigh, she adds, "I wish I could remember even a fraction of all this."

"So do I, my dear. Now there are two of us wishing for something that might never happen."

He sounds harsher again, but Chloe knows there is resignation carefully hidden behind a harder shell, and she knows she doesn't want to let it stand like this.

"At least you're not alone with that feeling then?" she suggests, and the look Emet-Selch gives is peculiar, but it doesn't look angry as he tilts his head.

"Perhaps," is all he says with a thoughtful line on his forehead, and Chloe wonders if she can ask one more thing.

"You said 'for a while' earlier. Does this mean it ended? I mean, before the world did that is?"

The lines on his brow furrow deeper as he nods gravely.

"Not by anything either one of us did, mind you." Emet-Selch sounds a lot more unkind now, and his eyes turn hard. "It ended because someone else made a decision for you. Forced you into doing something you'd never have chosen for yourself, and it ended in nothing but misery."

His words are scathing, but his touch is anything but. She knows whatever anger broils in him, it's not directed at her. It's undoubtedly there, though.

"But why?" Chloe finally asks. "And how?"

Two small but important questions and his eyes focus back on her.

"I am not privy to the information about the how," Emet-Selch says, clearly unhappy about that face. "But as to the why, I suggest you ask the primal you've sworn your unfounded allegiance to the next time you see her. She may have sundered the entire world, but what she did to you was by far her gravest sin."

Hydaelyn? 

The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and Chloe doesn't know how to react to that. There is so much that she doesn't know, so many pieces to the puzzle that is the past, but she can't even begin to think about where to start. Maybe she needs some more time to process all that he has told her so far, and when the silence stretches, something else becomes apparent. Held in his arms and leaning against his shoulder, Chloe feels the exhaustion catching up with her again. She knows she needs rest, no matter how curious she is about other things.

"Stay with me tonight, please?" Chloe murmurs, breathing in his scent deeply. "I might be boring company because I can barely keep my eyes open, but..."

A soft chuckle interrupts her as Emet-Selch's arms around her tighten.

"I distinctly remember hearing you claim you wanted to be left alone," he points out, sounding almost teasing, and for a second, Chloe is confused until she remembers that he has listed in on the confrontation in the Ocular.

"I didn't mean..." Chloe stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head with a sigh. "I want to be with you ," she insists, and Emet-Selch lets out a low chuckle. 

"As if I were capable of saying no when you ask me like that."

The words stay with her, being on her mind as he carries her over to the bed, and she settles down against his chest a little while later, sighing softly into the crook of his neck. Her eyes are heavy, and Chloe falls asleep almost instantly to the thought that even if he says he couldn't say no in any case, he certainly doesn't sound very broken up about it.

Emet-Selch sticks to his word. He doesn't intervene, nor does he try to do anything to sway her from her path the following day. Chloe wakes up to soft kisses on her neck and a hand working between her legs, and it doesn't take much until his other hand slips over her mouth, muffling her screams of his name in pleasure. 

An hour later, he is long gone with the promise of maybe answering some more of her questions at a more convenient time, and Chloe is freshly showered with carefully put-on clothes to not aggravate her back and on her way to talk to Y'shtola and the others. As it turns out, they have not been idle at all while she was gone, and a plan to travel to Amh Araeng is already in place. Mindful that time is pressing, they begin their journey later that same day, and Chloe uses the time it takes them to travel there to tell both Y'shtola and Thancred more about her new weapon and how it all came to be. She carefully leaves out every mention of something more intimate, of course, but she knows Thancred is well aware of that, and from the way Y'shtola raises her eyebrows every now and then, it's clear the other woman has connected some dots for herself as well. She is kind enough not to pry further into it, at least.

Amh Araeng itself is full of pitfalls and sorrow. Thancred has his own burden to bear when venturing there, and she can't deny the tiny spark of joy she feels for him when all is said and done, and even though he looks worn down and beaten up, Thancred seems to be in a lighter mood than he has been in ages. It's moments like this where she finds herself hesitating, wavering a little from her decision to walk away from all this after they are done. If she is honest with herself, Chloe doesn't know if the choice she wants to make for herself is the right one. All she knows is the burning need for change inside her. When it is time to finally face the Warden itself, Chloe is almost grateful for the distraction the fight presents. 

The fight itself, as it turns out, is almost ridiculously easy. She dimly remembers how terrifying her first attempts with her scythe against Sin Eaters had been, but in comparison to how much battling Emet-Selch had pushed her to her limits, this feels like it barely registers as a threat. Now the fight is over a lot faster than she would have expected, and like the times before, the light of the Warden is drawn to her. Chloe thinks she can feel it rather prominently now. Each Warden slowly adding more to a point where she is aware of the light mingling with her aether all the time now. It doesn't hurt, but there is something not entirely comfortable about it, nonetheless.

Not for the first time, Chloe wonders if there will be a point where it becomes too much. Where the dull pressure she feels at the back of her skull might turn into outright pain. She has seen people change, taken over by light and transforming into Sin Eaters right in front of her eyes, and in quiet moments she can't stop thinking about it. She wonders if Emet-Selch might be able to tell her how much more she can take, if he can see how bad it truly is.

When they return to the Crystarium, he isn't there, and Chloe has no time to find a bit of quiet to try and contact him before everything around her is in an uproar. With Ryne now easily able to tell them who the last Lightwarden is, there seems to be no time to lose, and Chloe barely has time to clean herself up and have a change of clothes before they are on their way to Eulmore already.

In a way, Chloe breathes deeply in relief when Vauthry manages to escape to a place where they can't follow for now. Her promise to help and her obligation towards her friends would have had her fight him regardless of her worries. She promised to kill the Wardens, after all. But like this, she gets a reprieve, a chance to settle down for a moment. The Scions work on a solution, getting together the people of Eulmore and Kholusia to help, but at some point, Y'shtola takes her aside, telling her to leave this part to them and get some rest instead. There is clear concern in her voice, and Chloe knows that her friend can see more than most. If Y'shtola worries and tells her to take it easy, then it must be obvious that the light inside her has gotten a lot worse since Rak'tika.

Chloe briefly considers asking for a guestroom in Eulmore so she can stay close by, but she doesn't want to cause even more work to the people busy building them a way forward, and so she teleports back to the Crystarium instead. Her eyes rest on the stairs leading to the Ocular for a moment, wondering if the Exarch is making any progress in finding a way to send the Scions back home, but she is too preoccupied to work up the nerve to go up there and check.

The moment she closes the door of her room behind her, everything goes quiet. After days of constant companionship followed by the bustling noise of building and construction work, the silence is now blissfully soothing. Chloe puts her scythe in the corner next to the door before she makes her way to the small bath attached to her room. She cleans herself up, thinking about nothing for once while she goes through the motions. When she goes to fetch fresh clothes, Chloe gets stuck by the sight of herself in the mirror. She looks different somehow, older, perhaps. Tired and exhausted, but also more confident than she could ever remember seeing herself before. Chloe has never spent much time looking at herself, but now the view holds her in its grasp. 

Wearing only a short towel wrapped around her, the lines from the burn marks Emet-Selch has left on her are clearly visible on her shoulder blades when she twists her torso slightly. By now, it hurts way less to do so. Her skin is healing, but in a way that leaves behind a prominent mark, just like he intended to. Chloe twists a little more, letting the towel slip lower on her back so she can see the full scope of it. The sight leaves her with conflicting emotions. Heat simmering in her lower belly, and desire flaming up in her at the memory of how Emet-Selch had marked her like this with a possessive fervor. At the same time, there is a hint of guilt, knowing that everyone had been worried about her and would probably react much less favorably to everything she had told them about her time away if they knew it had included something like this.

A noise in her room has her go tense for a moment before she realizes it's the familiar sound of a portal.

"Admiring my work?" comes Emet-Selch's voice from behind her, and something in Chloe eases up at the sound of it. Against all odds, his presence always manages to soothe her.

"How could I not?"

There is no use denying that it's what she had been doing. Chloe is acutely aware that she wears nothing but a towel, barely covering her, and it's fascinating to realize that only a short while ago, she would have been embarrassed by that, but right now, it's more of an intriguing thought. His next words pull her away from those thoughts, though.

"You don't look all that well, my dear." Emet-Selch doesn't look happy when she turns around, scrutinizing her as if he is trying to determine her exact state of health just by looking at her. It's certainly not something she would put past his abilities.

"I feel fine," she tells him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"You are not," he counters, and the frown on his face makes her a little uneasy.

She believes him, somehow. Despite feeling that she has somewhat of a handle on the light within her, Chloe can readily imagine that he can see things that are hidden from her. The air around them is tense as he keeps looking at her, and Chloe thinks she might as well not wear anything at all with how exposed she feels under his gaze. After a few moments of silence, she gives herself a push.

"Could you," she starts, feeling the familiar hesitation that is always there when she wants to ask anyone for anything, but she bites her lips, taking in a deep breath before she pushes the feeling away. It has no place between them, after all. "Can you stay with me again?" Chloe finally asks, the remaining apprehension in her voice only there from knowing he is clearly unhappy about her current state. But watching his face, she knows instantly that she needn't have worried at all.

"Oh, you are not going to get rid of me tonight," Emet-Selch murmurs, and with a snap of his fingers, her door locks, and Chloe can feel his magic in the air, shielding her room from any outside interference.

Despite him being out of her reach, something touches her, and Chloe doesn't have to look to know it's his aether. She can feel it in her soul when the light shrinks away, and everything in her yearns to reach out for him. His magic is soft now, coaxing and beckoning rather than forcing her into submission, but it's no less relentless. The last time she had felt it, it was wrapped around her arms and legs, pinning her down in an unbreakable hold. Now, it's quite the opposite. Like a siren's call, it draws on her own aether, and even if she wanted to keep herself closed off from him, Chloe knows that she wouldn't stand a chance. Despite how rough some things had been, Emet-Selch has never forced her into anything she hadn't wanted, and he doesn't need to. Not when the mere suggestions he makes, with words or through other means, are enough to draw her to him like this.

"Drop that towel, and come here, my dear," Emet-Selch beckons, his voice low but leaving no room for disagreement. "They can have you and your incorrigible heroics back on the morrow. Tonight you belong to me, and me alone."

Chapter Text

Chloe doesn't even consider not doing what Emet-Selch asks of her. Not when she has been yearning for this. She couldn't even tell anymore when exactly it started; this need to be close to him at all times, but by now, she craves his presence with her whole being. It makes her forget how clearly she can feel the light inside her for a moment as she lets the towel fall to the floor and closes the distance between them. She has been nearly mad with pent-up desire before, but this, now, feels different. Like it goes far deeper. 

Despite his words, Emet-Selch doesn't reach for her, doesn't make any move to draw her against him, but Chloe doesn't mind that at all. It's not like she is waiting for permission from him for anything - not anymore, and as soon as he is close enough, she reaches out, her hand sliding around his neck and into his hair, pulling him down into a heated kiss. The moment their lips touch, Chloe shudders. It's almost impossible to grasp just how much she needs this. His touch, his presence, everything. The fabric of his coat brushes against her skin as she presses closer, and Emet-Selch's still gloved hands run over her sides as she sighs softly against his mouth. 

Chloe flinches slightly as his fingertips drag over a bruise from her battle earlier, and to her surprise, it makes him draw back a little.

"You are hurt," Emet-Selch murmurs, holding her a bit at a distance to look at her.

"I've taken a few hits when fighting the captain of Vauthry's guard, but it's nothing serious. I've had worse," she shrugs. With a slight chuckle, Chloe adds, " You have given me much worse, actually."

And a part of her can barely restrain itself from asking him to do it again right away when Emet-Selch's hand brushes over the same spot, much softer this time.

"And when I am responsible for them, I enjoy seeing my marks on you," he says with a frown before shaking his head. "But this won't do."

Around her, his aether condenses, and Chloe's eyes widen as she realizes he is healing her. Everything but the elaborate scars on her back, it seems, and a moment later, she can't feel even the slightest remnant of her earlier battles anymore.

"So what, you are the only one who is allowed to hurt me now?" she asks with a raised brow and the intensity in Emet-Selch's eyes answers that question long before he finally does.

"Are you trying to make me believe you'd object to that?"

It is perhaps a little bit unsettling to realize just how easily he sees through her, but on the other hand, there is a certain security in the knowledge that around Emet-Selch, Chloe never has to pretend to be something she isn't, never has to pretend to feel and think something she doesn't.

"No," she says finally with a shake of her head, and a moment later, she pulls on his coat until he kisses her again, and his hands resume their task of roaming over her body and pressing her closer.

Emet-Selch is still fully clothed while she wears nothing at all, and while that in itself has something very arousing to it, a sense of impatience runs through her as her hands feel around for the fastenings of his coat. They aren't easily undone, and it comes with the added difficulty of being unable to see what she's doing while getting lost in his kisses. After a couple of tries, Chloe lets out a frustrated groan against his lips.

"You know, you could just get rid of this in a second," she complains as she pulls his coat open, only to be greeted by more buttons than she can count.

"I absolutely could." Emet-Selch sounds far too smug to make her suspect he has any intention of actually doing this, and when she finds his eyes, they are blazing with amusement. "This is far more entertaining though, my dear, you have to admit."

She can tell from his voice alone that he has no intention of making this easier or more convenient for her, and with a small groan, Chloe starts undoing every single button herself, only to find yet more fabric underneath.

"Just how many layers are you wearing?" she mumbles in clear annoyance, her impatience making him chuckle again.

"Garlemald was a very cold place. As many layers as possible were crucial to staying warm."

"You're nowhere near Garlemald, and it's not been cold here even once," Chloe complains, but it only manages to make him shrug.

"Won't you allow me a small bout of nostalgia then?" Emet-Selch teases her as she undoes his sash and carelessly lets it drop to the floor. It doesn't help at all that he keeps touching her, hands roaming over her body, fingers teasing whenever he can. It makes concentrating more and more difficult, but Chloe is determined to get him to make a concession for once. Frustrated, she tears at his shirt, letting out a small growl when the fabric doesn't give.

"Perhaps I should simply get comfortable and start on my own then, given that I am the one that doesn't actually need to undress," she proposes, letting her hands fall away and taking a step back. The look of complete surprise on Emet-Selch's face is more amusing than she would have thought, and Chloe starts to understand just why he enjoys pushing her around and teasing her so much. There is indeed something highly entertaining about this, especially when his surprise turns into visible elation.

"Why don't you do that then, my dear?" he murmurs, eyes gleaming. "You know I enjoy watching you."

Chloe can't help but think back to the very first time he had done so, without her knowledge even, and despite everything that has happened since then, a heated flush goes through her. But this time, she doesn't want to let herself be distracted by that.

"You do, but simply watching is no longer enough for you."

With her eyebrows still raised, she watches his smile widen.

"Know me that well by now, do you?"

Chloe notices that his hand twitches lightly like he is keeping himself from simply reaching for her, and she knows she might just get her way after all. This time, at least.

"Am I wrong?" she asks sweetly, and Emet-Selch lets out a chuckle, amusement and desire both evident in his eyes.

"Not even a little bit," he finally admits, and with a snap of his fingers, his clothes are finally gone, and he closes the small distance between them and pulls her against him.

Chloe sighs deeply at the first feeling of his skin against hers, and then Emet-Selch's hands are on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he drags her close and lifts her, turning in the process. With two steps, he has her trapped against the wall, and Chloe wraps her legs around his hips as she hisses from the feeling of the cold stone against her still incredibly sensitive back.

"Good thing you don't mind a little bit of pain, isn't it?" he teases as he presses down harder, and Chloe bites her lip, unable to contain a small cry falling from her mouth.

"It's not as if I could stop you," she gets out, but Emet-Selch is not at all fooled by her words. With a laugh, he lifts her just a bit higher. The head of his cock drags against her, and he wastes no more time on teasing before he angles her just right and pushes inside her in one sharp thrust.

"Like you would ever want me to, my dear."

It is true. Chloe doesn't want him to stop anything he is doing. Not his insistent touches, not the rougher ones. They all work together to turn everything she feels into something pleasurable, and her hands are buried deeply in his hair as he starts to move. There is a particular urgency behind Emet-Selch's every touch, like he is no longer willing to take things slow, and all Chloe can do is cling to him while he moves them. Each thrust is deep and forceful, the pleasure he sends through her body completely overshadowing any pain on her back now. One of her hands falls down to his shoulder in an attempt to get a better hold, and when her urgent grasp leaves scratches on his skin, Emet-Selch lets out a low growl. A moment later, he moves them again, and before Chloe can wrap her head around it, he slips out of her and nearly tosses her onto the bed. Insistent hands grab her, flipping her over onto her stomach, and then he is back between her legs, one hand on her neck and holding her down against the mattress. His other hand slides softly over her scarred back, and under his touch, her skin feels warm again. From the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse over her shoulder, and all over her back, there is a soft, red glow, the scars he gave her lighting up much like the sigil they are based on.

"Admiring your work?" she throws his earlier words back at him, hearing Emet-Selch letting out a low chuckle.

"Always, my dear," comes his reply before he shifts slightly and pushes back into her, this time with the advantage of getting to watch the artful arrangements of scars bearing his signature on her skin.

It only seems to make him less inclined to hold back, and Chloe groans deeply as he fills her completely. For the moment, it's easy to forget everything else. The outside world ceases to exist in his arms, and no part of her misses it. Not when she gets to feel like this - like everything is perfect for a while. Even the light doesn't bother her anymore. Each fiber of her being is only concerned with the way Emet-Selch makes her feel right now, each part of her only longing for his touch, and he isn't holding back his own need even a bit. Emet-Selch's hands roam over her body like he, too, can't get enough of her while he sets a harsh pace. Their moans mingled together, their breathless sighs, and the sounds of skin hitting skin fill the air that is already heavy and thick with desire. When tension coils in her and something bursts, Chloe thinks it's almost a little too fast, too soon. A needy cry falls from her lips as she comes, her hands buried into the sheets as she hears Emet-Selch's low groan as he follows right after, holding her hips tight as he buries himself deep inside her.

Relief rushes through her, realizing that he isn't done with her yet. He is still hard even when he draws back, and Chloe can feel his release trickling out of her as he does. With a small moan, she starts to move, trying to turn around to look at him, but Emet-Selch bends over her back, and his hand is firmly on her shoulder, holding her in place.

"You are mine, are you not?" he whispers hotly into her ear, and Chloe shudders before she nods. "Utterly mine, letting me have every part of you, isn't that right?"

His hand is between her legs, fingers moving past her entrance, finding the puckered ring of muscle on her ass. He teases and prods a little, well aware of the tension that runs through her at the new sensation.

"I've let you burn your very essence into my back for several hours," Chloe murmurs with a soft sigh before she shifts her hips to press back against his touch. "I'm hardly going to tell you to stop now."

"No, you would never tell me to stop." Emet-Selch sounds almost reverent, and then Chloe takes in a deep gasp as the tip of his index finger presses in. "Even when I make things deliberately difficult, you still yearn for my touch." He leans a little closer, fingers slowly but relentlessly pushing further as Emet-Selch's breath is hot on her ear. "Am I hurting you right now, my dear?"

Chloe shudders again as he pushes a little deeper before she shakes he head with a groan. "No, you're not." It feels different and entirely new, for sure, but at the same time, it's strangely pleasant. "Keep going," she adds, burying her hands into the soft pillow.

She can feel his cock hard against her thigh as he chuckles while moving slightly. "I am not going to stop," he assures her just before a second finger joins his first, and this time the stretch comes with a slight sting that has Chloe whimper. "I am going to take you like this, fill you up so deeply and thoroughly you will remember this for days."

Strands of aether slide over her legs, flowing together into something larger before slipping between her folds. Emet-Selch holds her in place, but Chloe can't help trying to buck back into the touch. The aether pushes further, feeling surprisingly firm as it fills her cunt in a deep stroke. She chokes back a moan as he uses that moment to start moving his fingers back and forth.

"All of you belongs to me." His words are a heated whisper against her skin as his fingers spread inside of her. "They can have your heroism, your tireless work, and even your compassion, but they can't have you, they can never have you, not the way I do."

He no longer holds her down, but Chloe doesn't even think about moving now as she hears another snap, and a moment later, his fingers are slick as three of them push inside her now. Chloe mewls softly as he twists his hand a little, touching her in entirely new ways, all while his aether keeps moving inside her at the same time. Her knuckles are white from tension as her hands twists into the sheets, clenching and pulling on the bedding while her body shakes under his ministrations. Chloe already feels close to falling apart, and the thought of him taking her like this while she is on the brink of going mad from pleasure makes her shiver with need. 

"Please," she murmurs, eyes half-lidded and with a guttural moan following her quiet plea. "Emet-Selch, please, don't keep me waiting any longer."

"Given how long I've had to wait to finally have you again, I'd say I've been very generous with you," he murmurs with a soft laugh, but despite his words, his fingers retreat, and Chloe knows he will give her what she wants regardless. He always does once she actually asks. What she doesn't expect is that he turns her around again, moving her like it's no effort for him at all as he draws her into his lap, cradling her close as he holds her up.

When the head of his cock presses inside her ass Chloe doesn't breathe for a moment. He feels even larger like this, but just like before, Emet-Selch gives her no quarter. That he does all this rather slowly is the only concession he gives her, and Chloe blatantly moans when he sinks deeper and deeper until he is finally all the way inside her. 

"You are being so good for me," Emet-Selch murmurs, and his aether pulsates as another, smaller strand brushes over her clit and starts to tease her alongside his moves.

The magic is not just filling her in the most teasing ways but also hovering all around her. Like a dark mist, it engulfs them, filling the air around her with nothing but him. It stirs something in her. Something Chloe has never felt before. Vast and primal, it beckons like a siren's call, and her soul follows. She couldn't tell just how she is doing it, but her own aether, even stained and addled from all the light raging within, seems to reach out. It is boiling, the light blinding and oh so hot, but wherever it brushes against Emet-Selch's magic, the darkness inherent in him is soothingly cold. He has everything she needs. He is what she needs, and instinct takes over as her aether surges, twisting around his with the undeniable need to take, to consume, to own.

Chloe still feels his touch, her body shaking under it, but her magic takes on a life of its own. Like the creature that comes forth when she fights, something in her is ravenous, light aether clashing against the darkness, wanting nothing but to devour. Emet-Selch is still against her, his hands frozen for a moment, and she hears him gasp as her aether tears into his and rips.

For a moment, she doesn't even entirely know what is happening. All Chloe feels is a blinding need for something she doesn't entirely understand. Emet-Selch's aether engulfs her, and it's so terribly inviting, like it's just asking her to take it. Chloe can't even try to hold back. Something inside her shifts and her burning need gets accompanied by something more - a ravenous sense of hunger. Chloe is dimly aware that Emet-Selch still moves, filling her deeply with long, harsh strokes as she clings to his body. Her hands twitch, nails piercing the skin on his back far easier than they would normally do, and she can feel blood well up under her fingertips.

Emet-Selch doesn't stop her. Not when she breaks his skin, and not when she keeps tearing at his aether. His hand slips into her hair, cradling her head as he groans deeply.

"Yes," she hears his voice rumble through her. "Look at you, still yourself and yet half Sin Eater already. You are so hungry, aren't you?"

His words should terrify her or at least spark some protest, but Chloe knows deep inside that they are brimming with truth. Yet Emet-Selch doesn't seem to be worried about that at all. Just like her before, he doesn't mind that what she so desires includes hurting him, whispered words spurring her on, encouraging her to go even further. Chloe couldn't control what she's doing if she wanted to. She is entirely driven by instinct, by the need to consume. A small hint of panic is at the back of her mind, wondering if what she is doing could actually harm him, and as if Emet-Selch can feel that last bit of hesitation, he holds her firmly in place, his voice hot against her ear.

"I have nearly limitless reserves of aether," he tells her through the fog of desire that swirls around her, "replenishing far quicker than you could ever take from me." His teeth clamp down on the lobe of her ear, making sure he has her attention through a sharp bout of pain even through all this. "Let go! Gorge yourself, take what you want, what you need until you've had your fill."

It's all the permission she needs, and any leftover thoughts about the horrific implications of his words are drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into nothingness under her ravenous desire. Shock runs through her as she cuts her own tongue on something sharp, realizing it belongs to her. Her jaw aches, her teeth feel unnaturally long and sharp, and Chloe can't think about right or wrong anymore. Too overwhelming are both need and hunger alike. Unable to hold back, she draws more and more of his dark aether into herself. As it fills her, calming the fire in her heart, she gives into her urges, letting razor-sharp fangs sink deeply into his neck as she violently drinks up everything he has to offer.

Chapter Text

Chloe has never before felt quite like this. This powerful, this complete. She can taste something metallic on her tongue, dimly aware that it is blood, but what is far more important is the taste of Emet-Selch's aether. It's cold and soothing, like a fresh glass of water trickling down her parched throat after a long day of working out in the sun. It's everything she needs and everything she has ever wanted, and Chloe holds on to him tightly as she gulps the aether down without hesitation.

Through it all, they never stop moving. Emet-Selch is still deep inside of her, and his arms are tightly wrapped around her. At some point, Chloe realizes that he is no longer holding her, but she is the one holding him instead. Her aether has taken form, twisting together, forming strands like roots of a tree made from blinding light. They wrap around Emet-Selch, coiling lightly around his limbs to make sure he stays exactly where he is. Where she wants him to be as one of her clawed hands sinks into his hair, and she keeps moving her hips up and down. Chloe is setting the pace now, and from the pleased smile on his face, it doesn't look like he objects. 

"Beautiful," he murmurs, licking his bloody lips as his eyes wander over her face. "Do you finally remember how it feels to want something? Remember how easy it is to simply take it?" Emet-Selch's words are barely above a low whisper, but Chloe can hear them loud and clear like he is speaking directly in her ear. "That it had to take the corruption of light to this degree for you..."

Emet-Selch trails off, and Chloe can't tell if he's upset or intrigued by this.

"Was it worth it? Making me like this?" she asks, and to her surprise, her voice comes out with a low growl. She can't help but wonder something more. "What are you even getting out of this?"

Emet-Selch shifts his hips, snapping them sharply against her until she moans heavily.

"You mean besides this?" he asks with a little laugh, and Chloe's grip on his hair tightens until he lets out a sharp hiss.

"It can't be why you did all this. All your meddling..."

"Has done nothing to cause you to become this," Emet-Selch interrupts her. "In fact, if I hadn't meddled, I strongly assume you'd already lost all sense of self and become a mindless beast by now."

His words almost make her pause. Slowing down considerably, Chloe tries to make sense of them and of what she feels. She no longer tears endlessly at his aether, feeling her earlier hunger somewhat sated.

"You didn't cause this?"

Chloe frowns as she glances down over her half-transformed body. Part of her wants to insist that it has to be his fault, but Emet-Selch has never lied to her before, and when her eyes find his, there is not even a hint of deception in them.

"No, my dear."

His answer is simple and sounds utterly honest. It throws her for a loop, but even though she believes him, there is something else she has noticed.

"But you aren't surprised. Tell me why," Chloe demands, and beneath her, Emet-Selch lets out a hollow laugh.

"I don't think so."

He sounds and looks incredibly smug, enough to stoke a spark of anger in her.

"Tell me, or I'll keep you like this until you do," she threatens, and without conscious thought, her aether tightens around him. Chloe isn't gentle, but even the threatening gesture seems to leave him surprisingly unimpressed.

"Oh really now?" Emet-Selch's smile widens slowly as he gives her a calculating look. "I'd like to see you try."

He starts to move again, and even though her aether is still wrapped around him, Chloe can't completely stop him. Not when even his slightest shift of his hips makes her whole body sing and manages to thoroughly distract her. She tries to hold on to the control she has carved out for herself, but it's of no use. She has already been thoroughly worked up before, and when Emet-Selch surges forward and kisses her, not caring at all that her sharp fangs cut into his lips, Chloe tips over the edge. Another growl leaves her as her hands claw into his back, and she comes with a furious cry.

When her senses get a little bit clearer again, she realizes that Emet-Selch hasn't followed her yet. He is still moving, a bit slower now, watching her with a telling gleam in his eyes, and now that she is no longer completely distracted by her own lust, she takes the chance to wrestle back the reins.

"I meant it," Chloe hisses, her aether surging. In an instant, she has Emet-Selch pinned down, keeping him completely immobile, and this time, when he pushes back, she is able to hold her own against him. "Tell me!" With a promising smile, she moves a little on top of him, watching how his face changes and his breath quickens, and she adds in a sultry voice, "If you tell me, I'll let you have what you want."

To her utter surprise, he is neither upset nor desperate. Instead, Emet-Selch simply raises a brow and starts to laugh.

"My dearest Chloe, do you honestly believe I'd let you have this much power over me?"

Her eyes narrow, and she pointedly lets her eyes wander over his trapped form.

"You don't really have a choice," Chloe murmurs with a smile of her own, but Emet-Selch seems wholly unimpressed.

"Ah, but you are forgetting something," he says, his smile turning slightly unsettling, and a second later, the red glyph appears brightly in front of his face, and with it, Chloe's back is on fire. She flinches in pain, but apart from the physical sensations, she can feel the impact it has on her magic. Like a leash forcefully yanking it back, her aether is ripped away from him. Chloe gasps, a surprised yell leaving her lips as she feels her body change again, aether and flesh becoming one for a moment until she collapses against him. She blinks a couple of times, trying to regain her senses, and when she finally does, Emet-Selch has pressed her into the mattress, caging her in between the bed and him as he drives into her over and over again. Instinctively, he holds on to him, realizing her hands are no longer clawed.

Before she can ask what happened, his lips clash against hers, and then the dark aether that had been teasing her earlier is back between her legs, pushing into her in tandem with his thrusts.

"This is hardly fair," she gets out between sharp gasps, and once again, Emet-Selch lets out a laugh.

"No, it is not," he agrees, and one of his hands is buried in her hair now, grabbing a handful and tilting her head back enough so he can leave small bites and tantalizing kisses along her throat. "I never cared much about playing fair, my dear. I am in this to win, nothing less."

Emet-Selch picks up his pace, and Chloe can do nothing but hold on, sinking deeper into a state of nearly mindless pleasure as both his cock and his aether move in and out of her, each thrust hitting just right. She moans around his name, shuddering and shaking with pleasure as she comes again, and this time he is right with her. Emet-Selch kisses her again, moaning deeply against her mouth as he spills within her, not stopping his movement until he has wrung the last bit of pleasure out of both of them.

Neither of them feels inclined to let go after. Even when he moves away and settles on his side next to her, Emet-Selch never stops touching her, and Chloe clings to him, pulling herself close and letting her head rest against his chest as her breathing slowly returns to normal.

Everything else about her has returned to normal, too, but a feeling of strange uncertainty lingers within.

"What happened to me just now?" she asks softly, a slight frown on her face as she wonders if the answer is going to make her even more uneasy about the light within her.

"I think you know just fine what happened."

Emet-Selch looks at her with a raised brow, and Chloe lets out a sigh.

"You said I was half Sin Eater already."

She sounds wary at that, and her heart beats a little faster at the thought of what that implies.

"You still are," he comments plainly like he doesn't have a care in the world about it. "Have been for a while now, but that can't be too surprising now, can it?"

It's not. Chloe has had her suspicions of what might happen when the light finally becomes too much for her. She has seen people turn often enough by now, after all. But somehow, she would have expected the change to be abrupt, not gradual. And most of all, not reversible.

"I feel fine now," she murmurs, holding up a hand and looking at it carefully. There is not a hint of the claws left that had buried themselves into Emet-Selch's back. "In fact, I feel better than I did before you arrived even."

"That comes of no surprise either," Emet-Selch says with a knowing look, taking her hand in his own and turning it around until he can leave a kiss on her palm. "You have consumed quite a bit of my aether, and its darkness is undoubtedly calming down the light and holding it in check."

"So I won't fully turn?" Chloe perks up at his words, shifting a little so she can look at his face, but what she sees on there isn't as assuring as she hoped it would be.

"Not today, my dear," Emet-Selch simply says. "But the effect won't last, and you still plan on taking on even more from the final Warden."

He sounds so matter-of-factly about it that it makes her shudder.

"And yet you still won't ask me to stop," she murmurs.

"I'm still not inclined to make your choices for you," he simply replies, a certain terseness back in his voice, but he pulls her closer nonetheless. "Perhaps you should rest for now, who knows just what you will face tomorrow."

It's a clear dismissal of the topic, and at the same time, it sounds strangely soothing as Chloe nods and lets herself be held. They simply lie like this, and she is beginning to drift off to sleep when Emet-Selch's hand grazes softly over her arm in a painfully gentle caress.

"If you are still standing, after your fight, that is, if something of you still remains, seek me out after," he murmurs deceptively soft against her hair. "There is something I would like to show you."

Show her? Even half-asleep, that manages to rouse her interest.

"Where?" Chloe murmurs, trying to open her eyes again, but they feel heavy from onsetting sleep already.

"Shh," Emet-Selch soothes her, keeping up the gentle caresses. "I'll leave you with something so you can find me easily."

"You won't be around when I go to face Vauthry?" she asks softly, and his hold around her tightens.

"It's better if I'm not." There is a small scoff in his voice, and then she feels his lips against her forehead before he adds, "I might just be tempted to break my own rules otherwise and not let you do what you feel you need to do after all. And we just can't have that."

Part of her wants him to do precisely that. To stay with her and keep her from going back into battle by force if necessary. To make sure she doesn't have to fight anymore. But it's not something she can ask for, now knowing how much he would detest doing that. That she shouldn't even consider something like this is a wholly different matter, one that feels surprisingly easy to discard.

"I'll find you then. After," Chloe murmurs, sighing softly as he keeps holding her close until she drifts off into sleep.

The next morning she wakes to gentle caresses just before the sun goes up. Emet-Selch is still there, even though Chloe is sure that he doesn't actually have to sleep if he doesn't want to. She is deeply grateful that he deems to do so anyway. There is nothing quite as exciting as being roused from sleep by the feeling of him filling her deeply. Neither of them feels a particular need to rush anything, and yet it doesn't take long until their movements become frantic, and moans and sighs alike fill her room.

After, Emet-Selch turns her around and kisses her deeply. It is long and languid. He takes his time, being thorough in his every move and Chloe has the distinct feeling that this is as much a kiss filled with hope then it is a kiss goodbye.

Just in case.

She cannot blame him for the sentiment, it's not like he is alone in worrying about that.

Before he steps through his portal to let her get ready for the day, he leaves something important with her. A small crystal brimming with energy. A beacon of sorts, Emet-Selch explains.

"You need only to focus on this when summoning your teleportation magic, and it will show you where to go," he tells her as he closes her hand firmly around it.

The crystal lies cold in her palm, and Chloe can feel the hints of dark aether within that feel so very much like Emet-Selch that it's a comfort to hold on to it. Before she can get lost in that thought, two of his fingers push her chin up and make her face him.

"This invitation is for you, and you alone, my dear," he says sternly. "Don't even think about bringing one of your friends along, it won't end well for them."

There is a blatant threat behind his words, but Chloe wasn't even thinking about the possibility. With a calm smile, she simply nods.

"If I'm still me after this, I'll come alone," she assures him, and Emet-Selch's stern look turns into a satisfied one before he kisses her again, and then he is gone, leaving her to her task.

And what a task it is. Chloe knows that having to fight Vauthry would have nearly paralyzed her with fear not too long ago. Everything about this man and the creature he becomes is unsettling, but with her scythe soothingly heavy in her hands and the void creature both shielding her and leading her arms every now and then to strike blows she would never have herself believed capable of it becomes something almost trivial.

She fells him quickly, and when the light once again surges into her, Chloe's vision turns white for a moment before she finds herself in the muted surroundings of a vision from the echo. She watches Emet-Selch, looking so different when he dons the traditional Ascian garb instead of his elaborate coat, set things into motion many years ago. Perhaps this would have been shocking to see only a few weeks earlier, but now it doesn't feel much like a surprise. Chloe knows who he is and what he is capable of. Emet-Selch had made it a point to remind her of that often enough.

When she comes out of the echo, her vision is still stained white, and for a moment, Chloe is afraid that the combined weight of the aether she has absorbed will drive her to her knees, threatening to break free, but instead of the light what comes out is her avatar, it's claws shimmering dangerously before malformed arms wrap around her. She hears her friends gasp in the distance, and when she looks, there is fear in their eyes, but Chloe only smiles.

She knows in her heart that this creature would never hurt her. Its embrace is almost like a shield, warm and soothing, keeping her away from harm. The light does something, though. When Chloe looks down, she sees that her skin has a soft glow, and the tattered robes of her avatar are no longer ash grey but blinding white instead, and yet she doesn't feel all that different. The Exarch is there, all of a sudden, shouting something she doesn't understand, and Chloe does her best to focus, reigning both the light and the creature back in until the world around her turns back to something almost normal.

The relief on her friends' faces is palpable, as is the blatant confusion of the Exarch, who still has his staff raised as if he had been ready to intervene.

"You actually did it," Thancred says with a hint of amazement in her voice. "You're containing all the light, and you are still standing."

There is a slight shake in his voice, telling her he has been as afraid of a different outcome as Chloe has been.

"I don't understand," the Exarch murmurs, and Chloe gives him a curious look as she gets the feeling he actively expected quite a different result.

"That void creature, you said it was a part of your soul, right?" Y'shtola says at that moment, taking a step toward her. "It might very well have been the key to keeping you together." It feels like she looks right through her, but Chloe knows it's the look her friend gets when she clearly inspects someone's aether. "You are not out of the woods yet, I fear," Y'shtola adds after a few moments. "Your soul is holding itself together right now, but it's still straining, and I fear the danger of something giving under that strain yet remains."

"But you think without that voidsent, it would have been worse?" Thancred asks, and when Y'shtola nods gravely, a shiver runs down Chloe's back.

"I suspect without it, she would have broken apart right here in front of us," Y'shtola theorizes.

Chloe's hand is in her pocket, fist closed tightly around the charm Emet-Selch has given her as she tries to understand just what he had done. Teaching her, training her, and reuniting her with a lost part of her soul saved her life, and at this moment, she knows exactly what she has to do next.

"I'm so sorry," she tells the others, and at her words, all eyes are on her, confusion and worry both on everyone's faces. "I need to go somewhere, and I need to go alone."

"Chloe," Thancred protests, and at the same moment, Y'shtola steps forward.

"You shouldn't tax yourself, not until we know what to do next," she implores her, but Chloe shakes her head.

"I know what to do next, and I need to do it on my own." With a side look at the Exarch, she adds, "Please trust me, and don't summon me back."

It's all she can do, implore them to let her do this the way she thinks it's best and hope that they will not intervene as she focuses on the charm in her hand. Aether swirls around her, the clear beginnings of teleportation magic as it latches on to the anchor Emet-Selch's magic has embedded in it, and then her surroundings start to blur and disappear around her as she teleports right into the unknown.

When the world becomes solid around her again, Chloe goes perfectly still. There is something that feels off about her surroundings. The air is peculiar, holding just the faintest smell of salt in it, and when she carefully takes in her surroundings, there seems to be something unnatural going on. For several moments she just looks, letting it all sink in until she starts to realize what it is that throws her off so much. 

The light isn't right.

She is surrounded by tall buildings, each of them higher than anything she's ever seen before, but the air shimmers peculiarly between the stone, and when Chloe slowly looks up, she sees that it's not just the light that is off but the sky itself. Or rather, there is no sky above her. What she sees instead is the blue-greenish shimmer of water. For a few seconds, she almost panics at the implication, but she is clearly able to breathe, and her clothes are still perfectly dry. Next to her, an aetherite shimmers, encased in a wholly unfamiliar design, and when she touches the charm in her pocket, she knows she is in the right place. This is where Emet-Selch had wanted her to go, but for what reason?

A distorted voice comes from everywhere at once, speaking in a language utterly alien to her, but to her surprise, she understands it all the same.

"Welcome to Amaurot."

Chapter Text

Amaurot.

The name makes her perk up. 

The city Emet-Selch had spoken about with so much reverence. From what he had said, she assumed it was destroyed with the rest of his world, and yet here she stands, on a paved street on the bottom of the ocean for some reason.

He had told her to come here, but not what to do after, and so Chloe takes a look around before she starts walking, trying to find out more about this peculiar place. There are giant shades wandering around, mostly completely ignoring her unless she makes an effort to gain their attention. It doesn't take many exchanges until she realizes that they seem to be like ghosts of a past world, unaware their existence is long over, simply going on with their day-to-day life. 

She wonders if any of them are even genuinely alive, and her gut feeling tells her that she just might be the only person still living down here. Well, hopefully, one of two. She keeps exploring, trying to get a better feeling of where she is until she makes her way into a large hallway. The doors are impossibly large, but luckily they open without her doing, and inside she finds a familiar face.

"You are here," Emet-Selch simply says, and Chloe doesn't know how to take the fact that he doesn't look like he's overly happy to see her. His eyes wander all over her form, but everything about him feels strangely subdued.

"You told me to come," she replies, her throat feeling a little dry as she carefully moves toward him. "So here I am." With a glance at the elaborate decorations and the high ceilings, she adds, "I didn't think anything would have survived the sundering from how you described it to me."

"It didn't." Emet-Selch lets out a weary sigh. "What you see is a reproduction, my dear. The real thing is noting but time-worn ruins in a watery grave."

She looks around once more. The knowledge that this is something he created doesn't make the sight less impressive. If anything, it's even more so now.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?"

Emet-Selch finally moves, and when he closes the distance between them, his hand cups her face as he slowly nods.

"I thought, perhaps..." he starts only to trail off, his eyes searching her face before he sighs softly. "Even seeing it in its former glory does nothing, I assume? You don't remember any of this?"

Chloe swallows heavily before she quietly shakes her head.

"I'm sorry."

She isn't sure what for, but it seems appropriate to say. Emet-Selch disagrees, though.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It was, perhaps, a fool's hope."

Chloe thinks about the shades she encountered and talked to, and her curiosity is still there.

"Those wandering through the streets outside, what are they?"

"Nothing more than memories given form. A city without any inhabitants is a dreadfully empty place," he explains, and she thinks she hears a hint of yearning in his voice. Somehow, down here and surrounded by the ghosts of a past she can't remember, Chloe yearns for something as well. There are no memories suddenly waking in her, but perhaps in lieu of that, she can settle for knowledge instead.

"Tell me how it ended," Chloe whispers. "How we ended."

She can see a flash of painful memories behind his eyes, and she knows that it's the last thing Emet-Selch wants to talk about, but after a long look, he does so, regardless.

"Things were complicated, but we made do until she meddled," he tells her in a grave voice, and he doesn't have to mention Hydaelyn by name for Chloe to know who he is talking about. "I don't know what she said to you, but she convinced you that you should leave Amaurot behind, got it in your head that you could do more somewhere else, and most of all, that you'd be a burden on those around you if you stayed." His eyes turn hard as he speaks, and she realizes she has never before seen him display such plain and fearsome hate when he continues, "In a way, framing it like this was somewhat ingenious. I doubt many other things would have convinced you to go, but that one did the trick."

Chloe shudders slightly, thinking how she is not all that different today in a way. Feeling like a burden would definitely be a reason for her to question her place. In fact, it has been something weighing on her for the longest time ever since joining the Scions. When she looks at him now, the harsh anger he displays feels almost a little intimidating. She is used to Emet-Selch being aloof, a man who mocks nearly everything she does but rarely ever shows that he cares about anything that deeply.

"So I left," she finally says, and his eyes narrow even further.

"Yes, you left," he almost hisses, and this time, Chloe flinches at his reaction.

"Are you upset with Hydaelyn about that or with me?"

Instantly, Emet-Selch's face softens, and he cups her cheek again.

"I am not angry at you," he says fiercely before resting his forehead against hers. "At her? Absolutely. Myself, definitely, but never you!"

"Yourself?"

Her question is quiet, but it makes him clench his eyes shut for a moment and take a deep breath. When he opens them again, they are filled with sorrow.

"You died somewhere out there, alone, when you should have been home with us, or we should've gone with you. I should have gone with you." Emet-Selch's fingers twitch against her for a moment, and then his other arm wraps around her waist, holding her tightly. "You were the best of us, the brightest, most beautiful, and radiant soul. And when the world got sundered, you died alone, feeling abandoned and worthless, convinced no one wanted you around, and that feeling lingers on your soul ever since."

His voice is poignant, regret shining through every crack of his anger as the way he looks at her goes under her skin. Chloe takes a deep breath, trying to make sense of all of this. 

"You said I was alone. How can you be so sure about this?"

Chloe isn't prepared for the look of pure pain in Emet-Selch's eyes.

"Because I can still see it," he murmurs as his fingers brush over her cheek. "That same hue of despair I saw on you the day you left Amaurot. It's still there, burned deeply into your soul. You think it a coincidence that you always feel like you don't belong?" Emet-Selch shakes his head, his eyes never leaving her. "It is not. All because someone once decided what is best for you." He goes quiet for a second, drawing in a deep breath before his look turns into one of fierce determination. "Which is why I am going to fix it, I am going to remove that stain from your soul at any cost."

His last words sound forceful enough to send a shiver down Chloe's back.

"Can you even do that?" she frowns, wondering just what that might entail. "You have your own task, your own mission, after all."

One he can't simply ignore, she knows. He has told her in no unclear terms that Zodiark works indeed as any other primal she has encountered before. Tempering and all. But Emet-Selch doesn't seem to care much about that right now.

"You, my dear, have ever held a far greater importance to me."

It is the most heartfelt thing she has ever heard from him. Chloe doesn't doubt the sincerity behind it, even for a second. 

"Greater than a primals' tempering?" 

Her question is shaky with disbelief, and for a moment, everything is eerily quiet around them. Neither dares to move, not until Emet-Selch's eyes blaze hotly and his hand slips from her cheek around her neck, harshly dragging her closer.

"Yes," he growls before his lips crash against hers.

Teeth nip at her lips, forcing a sharp gasp out of her that he swallows uncompromisingly. Emet-Selch tilts her head enough to make it easy to thoroughly overwhelm her, and Chloe's arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him through every second of this. A kiss that is fierce determination, defiance, and a promise so grave she can barely fathom it.

For a few moments, Chloe manages to let herself get lost in the sensation. Until something in her stirs, sharply reminding her of the reality she's in.

"The light, it won't last," she confesses quietly, telling him what she has been feeling ever since the death of Vauthry. "I managed to hold the light, but I can feel it boiling and raging within me, waiting for the smallest crack to break through."

He doesn't let go of her, only leaning back enough so his eyes can find hers.

"I feared as much," Emet-Selch says with a weary sigh. "You contain enough light to annihilate an entire world, my dear. That you have held out this long is a small miracle."

Chloe forces herself to keep breathing evenly to quell the sense of panic that rises at his words.

"I don't know how much time I have."

At that, he simply shakes his head, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

"Don't you worry about that, my dear. I won't let you waste away like that."

Emet-Selch's hold on her tightens, and like the night before, Chloe can feel his aether around her, reaching out, brushing against hers. It stirs something deep inside, something that makes her slightly uncomfortable, and yet it is driven by an undeniable need. Hunger, she realizes, thinking back on the night before and how she had gorged herself on his dark aether.

"The light will keep raging in you. Even another part of your soul is not enough to stem the tide indefinitely."

She can see the regret in his eyes, and Chloe tries her best to push the hunger aside, to ignore it as well as she can.

"Maybe I simply need to find more parts of my soul?" she suggests, but Emet-Selch shakes his head.

"Another temporary band-aid, I'm afraid, nothing more." His arms around her tighten for a moment, and he grinds his teeth looking down at her. "You just had to be the hero, had to see this through no matter the cost, didn't you?"

It's the one thing she knows she can't, in all honesty, apologize for.

"You asked me once what I strive for back then when we first met," she says quietly, letting her head rest against him for a bit. "I told you that I want to help people. I wasn't lying about that. My only regret is that I won't be able to continue."

A dry laugh rumbles through Emet-Selch's chest.

"I know you weren't," he mutters with a shake of his head. "You always cared so much." For a moment, he just holds her, and Chloe knows that everything in him is tense from the way he almost shakes against her before he draws back enough so he can catch her eyes.

"What if there is a way you could continue, maybe even a way that would one day let you save all those you lost as well?"

The words feel like a sharp knife piercing her heart, and Chloe's first reaction is to flinch away, but Emet-Selch doesn't let her.

"I'd say you are either very kind or the cruelest person alive for even suggesting that, depending on if it's true or not."

An uneasy feeling spreads through her stomach when a genuine smile appears on his face.

"Have I lied to you before, my dear?"

He hasn't. Not that she knows of. In fact, for all his faults and for all the games he plays, Emet-Selch is probably the most honest and painfully straightforward person she knows. Which makes the uneasy sensation in her stomach only stronger. If he is not lying, if there truly is such a way for her, then Chloe already knows she will agree to whatever he proposes, do whatever he might ask of her. Knowing him, it will also come with consequences. Dire ones, perhaps, but she knows they will fade away into irrelevancy when he dangles such a prize in front of her.

"You are serious?" she asks quietly, and when Emet-Selch nods, her hands clench into his coat. "Tell me what I must do!"

His eyes gleam with anticipation as he leans closer, and then he kisses her again. Slow and languidly, his tongue slips into her mouth, and Chloe is utterly overwhelmed by everything around her. His arms holding her tightly, his scent, the way his lips press against hers in quiet insistence - it all serves to completely unravel her within moments. Unlike before, his kiss is soft and gentle enough to draw tears to her eyes.

"Nothing less than saving the world, I'm afraid," Emet-Selch murmurs against her lips the moment he lets her breathe.

"I don't understand."

It doesn't make sense to her that he would propose something that is the antithesis of what she knows he strives for. But he cups her face in both of his hands, holding her close with a knowing look.

"Not the one that's on your mind right now, Chloe," he tells her, and it's the gleam in his eyes that finally makes everything come together for her. Her heart races as she understands what he means.

"You want me to help you save your world instead."

"Not mine, my dear, our world," Emet-Selch corrects her. "A world where everyone will be made whole again."

Chloe can't help but think back to all the people she has lost on the way to where she is today, all the graves she has visited, and the tears she has shed.

"Even the ones I've seen die right in front of me?"

This is a dangerous train of thought, Chloe is painfully aware of that, and yet she finds herself unable to look away from it. Especially not when Emet-Selch looks at her with so much love shining in his eyes.

"Through you, they could one day live again."

Chloe knows what the Scions would say to this, how her friends would react, rejecting the mere notion fiercely and vigorously. But they don't know all the things she does by now. They haven't seen this place and felt in their souls how it is but a painful echo from something that once was so full of life. They have not experienced being fully aware while regaining a lost part of their soul and know nothing of the longing it wakes for something more, something complete.

"Tell me how," she whispers.

It's urgent, almost reckless now, but Chloe knows she can't take a step back to contemplate. If she does that, she will start to question things, and everything might just unravel before her eyes. With what he offers now, she is unwilling to risk that.

"It's quite easy, my dear," Emet-Selch murmurs, his eyes brimming with something slightly wicked. "You need but ask. For my help, that is." One of his hands roams over her back, pressing her even closer against him, while his other hand trails up her neck cupping her face again as he leans close enough she can feel his breath brush over her lips. "Let me hold you close while you beg me to save your life, and no gods, not even the oldest and most powerful of primals, could keep me from giving you everything you want."

Her throat feels dry at his request as her mind goes back to all the other moments he has made her beg him for something. Those were decidedly different, of course, and yet part of her can't help but smile at the thought that this has undoubtedly become a theme for them. Something she has become so used to that it doesn't even make her hesitate anymore.

"Please, Emet-Selch," she whispers against his lips, and despite nervousness lingering in her about just how heavy the decision she is making is, her voice sounds surprisingly even and clear. "I beg you, please save me!"

As soon as the words have left her mouth, the air around them changes. Aether swells, dark but not foreboding at all. By now, the sight of his darkness is welcoming and soothing. The unending flow of aether sprouting from him takes the shape of giant wings, wrapping around them like a cocoon, and Chloe gasps under its soft touch.

Until she feels the hunger stir again.

Like before, it surges through her, and she can feel her body change in his grasp. When her eyes widen in fear, Emet-Selch only holds her tighter.

"Don't be afraid," he murmurs soothingly. "This is what you need. Give into what you truly desire, my dear, and let it fill you and sweep you away."

It's his aether she wants most at this moment, and when he gives her permission to let go, Chloe roars before she starts doing precisely as he tells her to. His aether is hers to take, and he doesn't mind just how much she claims for herself. The light in her demands ever so much more, and Chloe takes and takes with no end in sight. His aether flows through her, and the barriers between them that separate who they are, seem to fall. With it comes something new, old knowledge burned into her heart. It's not a memory per se, and still, she knows it's a truth.

"Hades," Chloe murmurs breathlessly as she keeps devouring his aether. There is not much more than this, no flood of memories or moments of revelation. Just his name and the deep-seated knowledge that it means everything to her.

The light burns inside her while the darkness soothes, and together they twist into a maelstrom of sensations, robbing her of all of her senses. The last things she feels are Emet-Selch's arms holding her in a tight embrace, and then that is gone as well. She is everywhere and nowhere, drowning in light's burning flames while being saved by piercing darkness. The whole world seems to be nothing but magic. Aether swirls around her, surges through her body, and it has teeth. For a while, she thinks she is dying. Something is. Or someone? There is a draft, a call, luring and beckoning, and even without anything to compare this to, Chloe knows what it is. The Aetherial Sea breaks its waves against the shore of the living, claiming and devouring.

When she comes to her senses again, the first thing Chloe notices is that the light is still there, but it's calm like never before. Deep inside her, it rests wrapped in darkness that covers it like a soothing balm. It's unobtrusive now, no longer a threat, and suddenly she can breathe again.

Until she notices something else. 

The is nothing around her anymore. No giant wings, no swirls of aether, and no warm embrace. The cold stone of the floor against her bare legs is the only sensation she feels. Something icy wraps around her heart as she scrambles to her feet, looking around to find... anything. The slightest trace of him.

There is nothing.

The city is vast, and Chloe knows she could delude herself by running through it and checking every single corner, but it won't change what she already knows to be true. Won't change what she had felt earlier. Dying. The feeling had been so strong, only it hadn't been her, she realizes now. Her legs are shaky, and with a sob, Chloe sinks to the floor again. 

In the deathly empty memory of a world she can't remember, her desperate cries reach no one anymore. This time, the eerie feeling she has is right - she is the only living being left down here.

Chloe doesn't know how long she stays where she is, unmoving, shivering slightly against the cold stone floor. She doesn't have it in her to get herself to move. Hopelessness wrecks through her, and at the same time, she feels strangely betrayed.

"He must have known," she whispers to herself, thinking back on everything that had happened over and over again. 'You contain enough light to annihilate an entire world, my dear.' He had said outright just how dangerous the light in her was. There is no way that someone like Emet-Selch hadn't known precisely that this amount of light could easily end his existence. Which makes his promises about saving the world with him sound strangely hollow and empty in hindsight. Had all of that talk simply been a ploy to get her to beg for his help? Or had he truly underestimated the light?

She doesn't know what to believe right now, it all gets drowned out by a deep sense of loss. Ever since the thing between them had started, a part of Chloe had known that it would most likely not end well. But not like this. Not this unceremoniously, this quickly, and without warning.

Or maybe she had simply been too blind to see the warnings in the end. Perhaps they both had.

"Do you mind some company?" comes a strangely distorted voice, and Chloe flinches, her heart almost skipping a beat as she turns to find one of the shades wandering the city looking down at her.

"What?"

It's all she gets out in confusion, but the shade doesn't seem to mind.

"You are from a time beyond ours. I could sit with you for a while if you want."

Part of her wants nothing but to be left alone right now, but something about this feels so terribly surreal she can't contain her confusion.

"You know this isn't real?" she wonders, for a moment thoroughly distracted from her woes by these strange circumstances. The other shades had reacted when she approached them, but none of them had come to her first. "Who are you?"

"There is no cause for alarm," he assures her as he slowly sits down next to her. "I am simply a shade, here and not here. My name is Hythlodaeus."

Curiosity rears its head under her sorrow, and slowly Chloe wipes some of her tears away.

"How come you seem to be aware when all the others are not?"

"I am not entirely certain," the shade tells her freely. "I always wonder if Emet-Selch's mind was distracted when it came to my reconstitution. A stray thought would have been enough. 'Hythlodaeus will realize the truth,' for example. We were... close once, you see..." He pauses for a moment as if lost in thought, and it takes him a while before he continues. "I may be no more real than the rest of this city, but nonetheless, your soul is a wonderful sight, no matter in what form, my new old friend."

Chloe doesn't know what to make of this. It is a lot to take in, but one part stands out in particular.

"Friend?" she asks carefully, and Hythlodaus chuckles slightly.

"Maybe a slight understatement."

The few simple words are enough for Chloe's eyes to widen as some things start to slowly fit together.

"You were the other one," Chloe murmurs. "The one who's name he refused to tell me."

There is no doubt about it, she thinks. She still remembers nothing, but this realization quickly becomes an absolute certainty in her mind.

"That would be me, indeed," he agrees.

It's a peculiar thing. The shade, Hythlodaeus, has no visible face. Only a white mask covers the darkness under his hood, nothing to indicate emotion or expression, and yet when he talks to her, Chloe has the distinct feeling of knowing that there is a smile on his face. A face she can't remember, but a smile that seems to linger on her soul.

"Your soul is different than before," he says, tilting his head from one side to the other as if he is trying to take in all of her under great scrutiny. "You are still you, but I am guessing you don't truly remember me or who you once were, am I correct?"

When Chloe slowly nods, he leans a little bit closer.

"Then let me remember for you. One of the first times I met you, you showed me your concept for a most peculiar flower."

Hythlodaeus sounds audibly wistful at that, and Chloe can't deny she wants to know more.

"A flower?"

The shade in front of her nods.

"They were always your specialties. The woman who seemed to care for her plants more than for people, that is what everyone said when I asked your colleagues about you." He chuckles lightly to himself underneath the hood. "A gross disservice, this description of theirs, if you ask me."

He obviously doesn't agree with those words, but Chloe can't help but think that they sound painfully familiar. More than one person she has met has questioned if she didn't favor her garden over the people surrounding her.

"So I wasn't that different back then?" she asks tentatively, surprised when Hythlodaeus shakes his head.

"You cared more than anyone else I've ever met, you just didn't know how to connect to people sometimes," he says, and again Chloe thinks she can practically hear the serene smile in his words. "That's why you created said flower. A beautiful specimen, shimmering in every color under the sky and finely attuned to aether. A flower who could show all those emotions you had trouble putting into words sometimes."

He makes it sound like a small marvel, and Chloe is inclined to agree. The mere thought of something like it, a way to easily show what she feels without having to go through the trouble of finding the right words that refuse to pass over her lips when she is nervous anyways, is incredibly intriguing.

"It could really show emotions? Just like that?"

Hythlodaeus chuckles again before he nods.

"I had made the honorable Emet-Selch accompany me on my trip to examine it, and even if he would never have admitted it out loud, he was as interested in the concepts you created as I was." There is still a hint of that wistfulness in the shade's voice, but for the most part, he simply sounds happy remembering this as he leans a little closer like he is about to tell her a secret and adds, "The day you showed it to us for the first time, the entire garden was blooming in the brightest red."

His tone and the color he mentions make it more than obvious just what it represents, and despite knowing that he isn't talking about her as she is right now, Chloe feels her cheeks turning warm, and she knows her face must look flushed by now.

"Oh... that must have been embarrassing," she murmurs, now knowing where to look, but the small laugh coming from Hythlodaeus is nothing but kind.

"On the contrary, it was highly educational for everyone involved," he says with a hint of mirth in his voice. "And also, you misunderstand. The flowers reacted to the ones standing closest and with the strongest emotions, and the field turned red the moment the two of us saw you that day, not the other way around."

The way he tells her all this is strangely touching, even though, for her, this is nothing but a story. She doesn't remember any of these things happening to her, and in a way, they didn't. Not really. They happened to someone else. Someone who doesn't really exist anymore. 

"All three of you, you were happy?" she asks quietly, and Hythlodaeus nods.

"For an age or two."

It is easy to forget that he, too, is a shade of Emet-Selch's making and not a genuine, real person she is talking to. Then again, with how broken her soul is, maybe neither is she, Chloe thinks. Perhaps they are not so different, after all. 

"He made me beg him to save me," Chloe murmurs, and to her surprise, Hythlodaeus starts to chuckle under his mask.

"Ah, our dear Hades, ever being so clever as to use everything to his advantage." When Chloe only gives him a thoroughly confused look, he elaborates. "You have always had a certain something about you, a sort of sway over others."

She frowns, trying to wrap her head around what he is saying.

"Are you telling me I made people do things on the regular?"

"Not consciously," he assures her. "I don't think you were ever aware of it. Your mentor certainly was, but Hades only learned of this much later. After you were long gone."

Hythlodaeus is quiet for a moment, and even though she can't see a face, he gives off the feeling of someone thoughtfully planning his following words.

"I think this is perhaps one tragedy he never wanted to add to if he hasn't told you any of this," he finally says, tilting his head a little. "But maybe you deserve to know this much." Her stomach sinks at the ominous words, but Chloe doesn't say anything, eagerly awaiting to hear more. "Being near you, being close to you always had a peculiar effect on people," Hythlodaeus starts. "Given the shine of your soul, it still has to a smaller degree today, I assume."

"An effect?" Chloe asks, suddenly unsure if she wants to know the details after all, but it's too late to reconsider now. 

"It makes them determined to reach for what they want, to indulge in whatever makes them happy at that moment," Hythlodaeus explains, and Chole lets out a relieved breath.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"It's not," he agrees, but after a slight pause, he adds, "Until it sometimes goes too far, and they start to forget everything else that matters to them, neglecting important things, their duty even. Excess indulgence in hedonism can lead to catastrophic events."

Full of disbelief, she looks at the shade, her fists clenching as she tries to fully grasp what he is saying.

"I made people become selfish?" her disbelieving voice sounds almost a little shrill by that, even more so when she remembers what he said about her soul. "That makes no sense. I've been surrounded by so many selfless people for years. None of them became someone looking out for themselves first." 

Hythlodaeus lets a large, ghostly hand rest against her shoulders.

"That is the most unkind look at yourself you could arrive at," he softly admonishes her. "You had a singular gift to bring people to embrace what truly made them happy. That it got out of hand sometimes was never your fault." He tilts his head again as if he looks her over before adding, "With your soul no longer being whole, I can only assume its effects have been somewhat diminished. Someone would have to get intimately close to you to be impacted nowadays. Not just be in your general vicinity."

She knows he is trying to reassure her, but the more she thinks about this revelation, the more harrowing the whole thing feels to her. Especially when she realizes something else, something that Hythlodaeus had surmised right at the start.

"He knew it could lead to this, and he still sought me out, still got close to me all over again. He made me beg him for help..." she repeats tonelessly, blinking away the tears that keep welling up, and next to her, Hythlodaeus lets out a soft sigh.

"Your powers, diminished as you are, still hold sway over the ones closest to you. And Hades' desire to see you live has never wavered. A primal's will never stood a chance against the combined power of that."

Chloe doesn't know what to feel about this. Knowing there is something about her that she can't control is unsettling. There is a certain sense of irony to the fact that she has these latent powers, perhaps, given that Chloe always had trouble figuring out what she wants for herself. That Emet-Selch had used this without her knowledge doesn't even surprise her, and yet if she looks at the result, she doesn't know if what is gnawing at her is despair or anger.

"You never made Hades do anything he didn't deeply desire to do," Hythlodaeus says with another encouraging touch. "He has made peace with that a long time ago." With a chuckle, he adds, "When it came to you, I'm afraid both of us always had a tendency to be a little selfish. In a good way."

His words are a comfort, and with a deep sigh, Chloe takes a look around.

"I don't know what I should do now," she confesses. "I know I can't stay, but where am I supposed to go from here?"

"I would suggest going forward," Hythlodaeus advises with a hint of mirth in his tone. "Going back rarely brings you anywhere but toward more heartbreak."

"I was speaking a little less metaphorically," Chloe replies dryly before she sighs.

A moment later, the shade takes one of her hands in his own and places something in it. It feels cold and smooth against her skin. A crystal, oddly shaped and amber-colored, lies in her hand.

"I think Emet-Selch would have wanted you to have this," Hythlodaeus muses, thoughtful for a moment before he nods. "Yes, I am rather sure of it, actually. Why else would he have left it with me?"

He closes her fingers around the stone, and once more, Chloe thinks he just might be smiling, even if she can't see it as he gets up.

"It was good to see you again, my new old friend, and so much more," he tells her, and Chloe's eyes widen in panic as he suddenly looks even less corporeal, the air around him quivering for a bit as he slowly fades. 

"No, wait, I don't even know what to do with this," she calls out, jumping to her feet and trying to grab him, but her hands only touch empty air.

She is alone again, standing in a thoroughly empty place with a strange crystal in her hands, suddenly feeling even more lost than before. She looks at the gem in her palm, unsure what any of this might mean for her and her future.

"I don't even know what this is," she murmurs quietly to herself. "Am I supposed to do something with it? Know something?"

"You'll figure it out."

Chloe freezes on the spot, looking hastily around. She is still alone, and yet she could have sworn she heard Emet-Selch's voice, loud and clear for a moment. She lets out a deep breath, shaking her head at herself.

"That's it, you're losing it, Chloe," she murmurs to herself. "He'd mercilessly make fun of you for letting this place get to you like this."

"That's right, and I am. It's quite a pathetic display, my dear."

Her heart starts racing, and again she looks around, trying to make sense of what she hears. The voice, Emet-Selch's voice, meanwhile keeps mocking her.

"I leave you alone for little more than half an hour, and you turn back into the easily spooked and unsure hapless hero I met when you arrived on this shard. It's really quite unbecoming!"

Slowly, her eyes widen at the realization that he sounds far too harsh for anything her mind could come up with to comfort her, which leaves only one conclusion.

"Yes, yes, I'm quite real. Now, if you would kindly stop this pathetic display of self-pity. Dust yourself off, my dear. We have a lot of work to do, and there has been a slight change of plans."

Chapter Text

In the depth of night, the Crystarium looks incredibly beautiful. It's a sight to behold by day as well, of course, but when darkness covers all the surrounding lands, the Crystal Tower shines all more strongly against it.

Chloe stands up on the highest terrace near the tallest spire. From up here, she can't even see individual people anymore. There are lights shimmering down below where she knows most of the city's population is still celebrating, but the rest is a blur. Up here, the wind blows sharply, and only occasionally does it carry with it a hint of music, faint and fleeting on the air.

"This is the last place I expected to find you," comes a voice from behind her, and Chloe doesn't turn around, her gaze still focused on the depths below.

"It's not where I usually would be," she admits. "I am not very good with heights."

With slow steps, the Crystal Exarch comes to stand next to her.

"And yet here you are."

There is an air of curiosity around him, and Chloe can't blame him for it. She hasn't told him or any of the Scions all that much after she returned from the depths of the Tempest.

"I guess you could say I am trying to get used to new things," she finally says. It's an answer that is as truthful as it is vague, but the Exarch doesn't pry.

"I was hoping to speak to you alone, Chloe," he says instead. "I think I owe you an apology. More than one, perhaps."

This unexpected admission actually makes her pause, and curiously, she turns toward him.

"I realize it might not mean much, but I have to admit I may have been blinded by a certain sense of expectation, of wanting to see things a specific way, and I have not acted gracefully when put on the spot about it." A weary, slightly sad smile is on his face as he looks up at her. "I was quite selfish, I'm afraid, and I hope you can forgive me."

It's not something Chloe would ever have expected to hear from him, and the words catch her thoroughly off-guard. 'How utterly boring,' runs through her mind with a sneer, and she almost flinches, frowning at the harsh reaction she knows is not like her at all. 

No, the Exarch seems perfectly honest, and Chloe has never been one to hold grudges.

"Thank you," she says instead, and the smile on her face is genuine. "I appreciate it more than I can say."

"If you'll allow me one question," he adds, turning to look down at the far-away celebration. "Ever since you've returned, I can't help but wonder. What happened to Emet-Selch?"

Chloe goes back to simply looking into the night before she merely shrugs. "I've told you, he saved my life down in the Tempest," she says plainly as if that would answer everything. It's all she had said to the Scions as well, and in her exhausted and clearly distressed state, they had done the kind thing and didn't pry any further.

"That doesn't entirely answer my question," the Exarch points out, and at his keen observation, Chloe can't help but smile.

"I guess it doesn't."

She almost expects a follow-up question when she refuses to elaborate, but once again, the Exarch surprises her.

"I was wrong about him, too, it seems," he says with a small sigh. "He obviously cared a great deal about you."

"He does," Chloe agrees quietly.

The Exarch looks down at the Crystarium one more time before he squares his shoulders.

"I'll leave you to it then."

He is already turning around, ready to go, when Chloe calls after him.

"Exarch? I have a favor to ask."

"Of course," he immediately assures her, and Chloe turns to look over her shoulder at him.

"Find a way to let the Scions return home, please?" she implores him. "I might be needed somewhere else soon, and they don't belong here."

For a moment, he looks like he is about to ask something else, but then the Exarch simply gives her a short nod."

"I will. You have my word."

And with that, he leaves, the door to the tower falling shut heavily behind him as Chloe goes back to looking into the night.

"Finally, I thought he would want to linger and ruing the entire night," comes Emet-Selch's voice with a clear hint of annoyance to it.

"I am still going to have to talk to other people sometimes," Chloe chides, but it seems to have no effect on his sour mood.

"That, I don't mind, but do they have to be the especially dull ones?"

She rolls her eyes before she leans over the railing, letting the breeze blow through her hair.

"It was actually quite big of him to apologize, be nice!"

At her insistence, Emet-Selch scoffs.

"Ah, but I don't have to be, my dear. That task falls once more to you, hero."

"You could still be nicer to me," Chloe complains. "Especially after you've let me think I'd lost you for such a long time down in the Tempest!"

"It was not even an hour," Emet-Selch admonishes her. "I'll have you know that finding a way to speak to you directly from the Aetherial Sea is not as easy and straightforward as it might look. No matter how much of my aether you might carry."

This time, Chloe is the one scoffing.

"An hour where I was beside myself thinking that I killed you!"

"You did kill me, my dear," he snarks back. "My death just happens to be a little less on the permanent side. It isn't my fault that you grossly overestimated yourself." 

Despite both their heated tones, Chloe finds herself smiling through all this.

"I have never been so happy about being wrong," she admits. "That hour was dreadful; I had just gotten used to no longer being alone."

Even though he isn't with her in person, at least not physically right now, Chloe can feel a hint of warmth bloom in her. Like a calm assurance that he is there no matter what. The feeling spreads over her back, and she can feel the sigil he has left her with glowing under her clothes.

"And I've made very sure you'll never be alone ever again," he points out. "Maybe some thanks are in order?"

She laughs softly at his indignant remark. Chloe is grateful beyond belief, and she knows he is perfectly aware of that.

"So what's next?" she asks instead, looking once more down at the celebration. Despite her happiness, she doesn't really feel like wanting to be part of it. There are other things that hold a far greater appeal right now.

"You're still committed to your goals? Of wanting to help people?"

"Yes," Chloe says without hesitation.

"And you're ready to try it my way this time?" Emet-Selch asks, and a slight shudder goes down her back at how inviting his voice sounds.

"Yes," she repeats, and part of her can feel his satisfaction through this strange connection they now have. But there are some things that still worry her. "I still feel the light inside me, even if it is calm right now."

"You will need to consume more aether," he says with a thoughtful hum. "Preferably of the dark variety. Not right away, but eventually."

"The hunger will come back?"

It doesn't entirely surprise her, but it still gives her an uneasy feeling.

"Well, my dear, you will just have to learn how to summon me back before it becomes an issue then."

Emet-Selch sounds so matter-of-factly about it that Chloe can't help but laugh quietly.

"Oh, it's that simple then?" she asks cheekily, her smile widening when she thinks she can hear the frown in his voice.

"Nothing about it is simple, but lucky for you, I have somewhat prepared for this."

Her hand slides into her pocket, closing around the crystal that Hythlodaeus had given her. She knows a little bit more about what it does and what it is for by now, and part of her is itching to start learning how to use it. If only so she can feel Emet-Selch's arms around her again sooner rather than later.

"And once I manage that, then what?"

This question he doesn't answer right away. When he finally speaks again, his voice sounds a lot more somber.

"If we are going to make the world whole again, you, my dear, must first save it." He sighs heavily as if all this is somehow a great burden when Chloe knows in her heart he is as eager as she is to move forward. "My plans were much simpler, but being immersed in the Aetherial Sea saw it fit to remind me of some rather important details. The Source eagerly awaits you and your heroics."

All the thoughts she had a few days ago about leaving everything behind and finding something else to do with her life are gone by now. She knows the Scions will definitely appreciate that, even if they would not at all agree with her motivation. But that is something to tackle in the far-off future. For now, they still have the exact same goals in a way.

"The Final Days you spoke off..." Chloe murmurs. She knows there is a lot lying ahead of her, but somehow, it doesn't feel daunting at all. Not anymore. "You will be with me every step of the way?"

Asking isn't necessary. She knows how he feels about her, after all. But it's still nice to hear, and for once, Emet-Selch obliges gladly.

"Oh, my dear Chloe, with how entwined our aether has gotten, you'll never be able to get rid of me again."

He makes it sound almost ominous, like it could be construed as a threat, but for Chloe, it is anything but.

"Good," she simply answers, and once again, she feels a warm glow of his presence in her chest.

"Now, go and get some rest, my dear," he prompts her. "This is all just the beginning. Once you've saved the Source, the real work will begin. Rejoining worlds is not a trifling matter."

Being up here, feeling so far removed from everyone else she knows, has been soothing, but Chloe knows that Emet-Selch is right about this. Still, she can't help herself from arguing back.

"You just want me in bed so you can talk me into giving you something to watch," she teases, and from the way the warmth she feels inside her turns into heat, she knows she is not that far off.

"Those are not mutually exclusive, my dear," Emet-Selch murmurs, the way his voice has dropped sending a pleasant shiver down her spine, and Chloe has a feeling he will make use of the sigil on her back tonight, no matter how far apart they may be. "But look at it this way, the sooner you learn the things I have to teach you, the sooner I'll be able to do much more than simply watch again."

"You better start teaching me first thing tomorrow then," she murmurs, and with a sigh, she pushes herself back from the railing and leaves the terrace, starting the long climb back down.

Chloe knows there is much ahead that won't be easy, even with her new-found power and a good bit more confidence. Just from what little Emet-Selch has told her to expect, she is well aware that the future might bring as much sorrow as it promises joy, but she knows she is ready for it all. Or rather, Chloe will be once she manages to use the spell of the crystal that promises to return him to her side. She knows she'll be able to weather any storm as long as she doesn't have to do it alone.

And when she lies in bed later that night, pleasantly exhausted and with a faint smile on her face, she falls asleep to the soft sound of his voice, whispering promises for the future into her ear.

"And so you venture unto the unknown. A fate beyond the horizon that cannot be divined. A future undefined and in flux. That which lives is destined to die. Love leads to loss. Every beginning has an end. Treasure every moment, every step of your descent. And there in the depths where souls and stars rest; find your truth."