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The two moons loomed high in the night sky. The peaceful ambience of nocturnal creatures filled the air between the swaying of the grass and trees, creating a serene, mystical environment. These seemingly magical places were hidden by a blue mist and intangible barriers. Mortals lived amongst these structures of magnificence and mystery and were oblivious to their existence. The only ones who had access to them were the ones who knew where to find them.
There was a sudden disturbance in the trees, a cloud of bats flying out, creating little black dots across the sky. Resting deer peeped their heads up momentarily before laying back on the soft grass, returning to their divine slumber. Obsidian walked softly in the untrodden grass, lifting her gaze to the bats. They danced in the glorious light of Masser and Secunda. Her companion was not as graceful and delicate as she, continuously stumbling over a rock or the long grass becoming entangled around his armour. She chuckled at him while he grumbled, removing the grass from his boots and letting go of her hand.
"Why can't we just clear the path of grass? You have a sword and magic too. That's got to be easier than walking through this," he complained, promptly being told to lower his voice. Obsidian stopped walking and turned around to meet his eyes.
"Alessandre, I know you don't fully understand yet, but this place is sacred. I can't change anything around the structure. Including the grass."
He was going to retaliate but decided against it. Alessandre was uncertain as to where they were both going. The overgrown cobbles were new to him, and the wild forest muddled his sense of direction and memory. It was as if he'd breathed in too much mist around them and fogged his thoughts. He placed his hand in hers again and allowed her to take the lead. There was no bird song now, only the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and the gentle clink of his armour and weapons as they pressed on. Obsidian wasn't wearing her signature armour that day, and instead, she donned a soft, plain black robe with a long green satin belt. It hugged her figure beautifully, complimenting her natural curves. Her sword was fastened to the belt and a pouch of mead for their refreshment. Alessandre had previously seen the attire of the deviant people Obsidian worked with. They sat stiff with embroidery, scattered with pearls and lace and encrusted with the finest gemstones that could be found across Tamriel and even Akavir. Despite their ceremony and elaborate displays, Obsidian sat among the most influential of them. She didn't need an ornate costume to display her high status. The simple robe said a thousand words and told a thousand stories of friendship, love, pain and loss. The smell of Oblivion clung to her, permanently lingering in her hair and skin. No one doubted her capabilities. And frankly, no one wished to engage in a fight with her. They were all aware of her Dragonborn status. The rumours of her being the new Champion of Hermaeus Mora were true. Additionally, no one wished to engage the towering giant of a man who could always be found at her side, armed to the teeth, a scowl upon his face. The two were a force to be reckoned with, a force which no one on Nirn had succeeded in overcoming.
A light humming could be heard. It sounded similar to the metallic buzz of a Dwarven Sphere. Alessandre looked around, placing his empty hand on the hilt of his weapon in case anything tried to rush them. The tall grass could provide excellent cover, and Obsidian insisted they walked without a torch or lantern. She reassured him that she knew the exact way to their secret destination. Alessandre noted it was becoming louder as the forest became denser around them. If he had any slight idea of where he was, it had all but faded now. It was almost as dark as a cave, making him wonder if they were under a mountainside. However, he could narrowly see the moonlight between the twisted trees. Ducking under the thick, unforgiving branches and minding his feet on the unstable rocks, they came to a sudden halt.
"Here we are," Obsidian simply told him. Alessandre looked around and could only see the trees they had walked through. Obsidian lifted her hand to point in front of them, in the opposite direction to where he was looking. "In there. Magnificent, isn't it?"
"Where in Nirn have you taken us? This place doesn't look familiar to me at all. Are you certain this is safe? You aren't wearing any armour, and you only have a sword. I don't want you getting lost or hu-". Obsidian silenced him by gently pressing her lips on his. He loosened his shoulders, bringing his hands around her waist, relaxing into it. Her soft lips were a welcome change to his chapped ones, and they tasted lightly of the lavender oils she used in her hair and skin. They were to try and rid herself of the peculiar stench of Oblivion. But that specific scent was chosen for Alessandre's preferences. He'd lost too much to lose her now, being one of the first constants in his life. But realised he overreacted. Something he had learned about her was that she was skilled at quickly adapting to her environment. Without armour and weapons, she had several tricks and skills she could utilise. He didn't doubt her, but losing her would be extremely painful. She broke off the kiss but remained very near to him, basking in the feeling of their closeness. Obsidian quietly giggled, gave him another fleeting kiss, and held his hands on her waist.
"You don't need to worry, my sweet I've done this many times. It's perfectly safe. Just...keep an open mind. Nothing shall harm you in this place, but if you begin to feel uncomfortable, you must let me know immediately." Alessandre looked at her with a slightly puzzled look.
"You will understand where we are once we are inside. Now, follow me and mind your head in here. This place wasn't meant for people as tall as us."
Obsidian reclaimed a firm hold of his calloused hand, stepping forwards as he reluctantly removed them from her waist.
Alessandre relished the feeling of her natural warmth. He assumed it was to do with her heritage, but he didn't ponder the subject for too long. Alessandre took a good look at the sight in front of them. It was unlike any ruin he had ever seen before. It was like any regular ruined castle or watchtower, but something about the brickwork didn't seem right. They were cut with such precision that they fit together perfectly, completely sealing the secrets inside. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in Tamriel before. Most buildings were crafted with stones that didn't entirely fit together. The only places that came to mind created with similar respect and exactness were holy sites, prisons and residences for the Jarls. He wondered if he was even in Skyrim anymore. The bricks were dark grey in colour. Nature started reclaiming the building, ivy outstretching along the wall and up to the top. Despite evidently being abandoned, he could neither see nor hear any wildlife that called it home. Perhaps it was due to the bitterly frigid air. He leaned in closer to Obsidian to catch some of her radiant warmth. As he did so, he noted that the awful humming noise had stopped now they had arrived, his worries quickly fading.
The wooden door, which had started to crumble and decay, was clad in the remnants of shattered chains. Alessandre debated the history of this place in his head for a fleeting moment. The wood emitted a pungent, unpleasant smell, but he remained close as he inspected the chains.
There was a marble bench beside the door. The sides were covered in ivy and moss, although the top was still relatively clean. Alessandre was uncertain why she had taken a seat, but he sat beside her, looking back into the forest path they walked. He was unsure how far they had ventured or how much time had passed. It wasn't uncommon for Obsidian to rouse him from his sleep to journey off into who knows where. These adventures were usually exhilarating. Obsidian would be full of life and would practically run to their destination.
"Before we go in, drink this. The air can be quite cold here, and it'll help you warm up," Obsidian offered, clutching at the pouch on her belt. She tapped it with her manicured nails as he nodded. How she kept them in such pristine condition while being feral most of the time was beyond him. Obsidian removed the cap and gently placed it in his hands. He bought it up to his mouth and felt the slight burn as the drink passed down his throat. The honey taste was pleasant, the sweetness coating his tongue as he noticed his head went a little fuzzy.
"What drink is this? I feel...strange," he told her, looking at her worriedly. "It's not one of your daedric meads, is it?" The last time they drank, she accidentally gave him one of her meads gifted to her by the Prince of Debauchery. Alessandre didn't remember much of that night but woke up with the worst hangover he had experienced. Obsidian said nothing, simply looking back around her.
"Lavender, what did you just give me? It's not one of those strange herb drinks Old Ulen makes?" He asked, becoming increasingly concerned. Old Ulen was a mutual friend of them both. In the past, he had gifted the couple a strange drink for Obsidian's birthday, made from herbs and berries. Alessandre and Obsidian delighted in the taste but not the effects of the beverage. They woke up in a completely different hold, half-naked and very lost.
Obsidian sighed, checking to see if she could sense anyone around them. She moved closer to him on the bench and whispered, "It's to mask your presence. You'll understand soon, but the Daedra are involved. I crafted this potion for you so you cannot be detected for 3 candle times or roughly a few hours. Depends on how you measure time. Long enough for me to do what I need to." Obsidian moved away from him, standing up and beginning to remove the rusted chains from their place. Before he could voice his concerns, she simply told him, "It's important to me".
Alessandre wasn't ignorant of what the Daedra were capable of. Even before meeting Obsidian, he had been subject to Daedric activities he would rather forget. He was grateful she had created this potion, but he still didn't know what this 'involvement' was. But if it was important to her, he would face what he had to do to protect her and ensure her happiness. Alessandre pondered on what Daedra could have been involved with this time. Obsidian did frequent the scattered shrines for the Daedra around Skyrim. She was even granted access to some of their realms whenever she wished. In fact, she was a recurring guest at Sanguine's festivities, personally invited by the Daedra lord. He was unsure of what happened during these parties and became concerned he was about to find out. Although he doubted Sanguine would choose a venue such as this for his exquisite gatherings.
With the chains now removed, hidden in the grass, Obsidian gave him one final kiss on the cheek before they entered. As the door shut behind them, an otherworldy chill enveloped them both. It made them feel slightly unsettled. Once Alessandre's eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he could see the foreboding sight ahead. They stood in a seemingly endless hall crafted with the same grey bricks as the exterior. It looked like the walls were twisted and warped, and along the bottom was a trim of blue daedric text. He couldn't read what they said. Sconces containing a blue flame symmetrically lit the hall. Obsidian was right. The walls constrained their movements, and he had to slightly lower his head to not brush the ceiling. That blue fire was the signature of only one Prince. One they both despised. Whatever this was for, he admired Obsidian's courage. She didn't take a sip of the potion and left it all to him to ensure he would be fully protected from being seen by Molag or his underlings. Though he was deeply disturbed after learning who they were getting involved with. Deep down, he felt frightened, but Obsidian's potion kept him from returning outside. And besides, she wasn't safe from his meddling.
Not a word was muttered as they pressed forwards. Obsidian had clearly visited this place many times in the past. She walked ahead with confidence, even despite her vulnerability. The noise of his armour and their combined footsteps echoed off the claustrophobic walls, which made Alessandre continue to check they were not being crept up on. His mind began to play tricks on him as he believed the walls and the ceiling was moving closer. Obsidian could sense his unease and worry and took hold of his hand to encourage him to keep going and hopefully provide some comfort. In truth, she was too afraid of making the perilous journey alone as she had in the past. The last time she visited alone, she barely escaped with her freedom. If she was to be stolen by the Prince of Domination, she wanted to make sure at least one person was aware of her fate and report it to her colleagues. Obsidian felt awful for not informing him of what happened the last time she visited, but she needed him to come in with her.
After minutes of listening to their melodic footsteps, Obsidian broke the silence eventually. "This place is magnificent, is it not? I've never seen a structure like this before on Tamriel. It's said to have been crafted in the early Second Era, built to look like the structures in Coldharbour. I can confirm that it is true. It was once a bustling facility, as cultists lived and operated here during the time of the Planemeld. But after it was over, this place fell into ruin and was taken over by nature. Ultimately forgotten by the citizens of Skyrim and perhaps even Molag Bal himself. I come here to talk to an old friend of mine. It is unsafe for us to meet anywhere else."
Alessandre did his best to take in all the information. He was knowledgeable about some of the affairs of Daedra in the past. However, Obsidian was so experienced and passionate that she often forgot others were not and would fill their heads with words they had never heard before. He was intrigued, if not highly concerned to who this friend could be. A cultist? A criminal on the run?
"It isn't our orc friend Grimjaw is it? What did he do now, sing another drunken rendition of Ragnar the Red to a tough crowd?" Alessandre asked her, to which Obsidian chuckled.
"No, it isn't. I tend to meet with Grim at his home to ensure he doesn't get hurt on the way. It's quite a walk to our home, and in these times, I worry for his safety. This is...an older friend. Probably my oldest. It's a difficult situation she's in, but she manages. We both do." Alessandre wasn't satisfied with her answer but decided to wait. Perhaps his questions and doubts would be answered soon.
The walk continued. The echoes did too. Alessandre noted he could lift his head up a little more, assuming the ceiling had begun to rise. A hand reached the back of his neck, massaging it lightly due to the discomfort of keeping his head down until they reached a door crafted with extreme grandeur. It looked to be created with the same stone as the rest of the building, albeit painted over with gold and navy varnishes. Obsidian retrieved a key from her bag and fiddled with the lock. As she did, Alessandre gazed at the spectacle in front of him. Swirling patterns blended into Daedric text upon the door. Everything looked out of place.
"Before you ask, this isn't a part of the original structure. That door was destroyed many years ago and was left in ruin when I was instructed of this place. I had it removed and recrafted into this one," Obsidian explained, resting her palm on the handle.
"I thought you said you couldn't change anything about this place?" Alessandre countered, remembering their previous conversation on the walk there.
"I can't change anything around it, but I never said anything about inside. It provides safety for my friend, as if someone were to ever come across this place, they cannot unlock it nor break it to continue. Now, please be kind and keep an open mind. I love you."
Alessandre nodded at her, wondering just what was contained inside this room. Why did this friend have to be locked away from the world? The heavy doors opened, unsettling the light layers of dust that had formed in this room. It was a welcome change from the tight walls of the hallway, but this place was even darker. Nothing was present to light the room, and he couldn't tell its depth or size. His hand subconsciously reached for the hilt of his blade, though he didn't draw it just yet. They couldn't see even an inch before them until Obsidian called out into the stale air ahead. Alessandre wasn't sure of what language it was. For a moment, he wondered if it was Dunmeris. Despite being an Ashlander for most of her early years, it was rare she would speak in her native tongue. Although Alessandre was fluent in Dunmeris, the rare times Obsidian would talk in it, he couldn't understand. Her accent was too thick for him to truly make sense of the words, though he did love the irregular times she would use it.
Alessandre jumped a little when invisible sconces lit themselves simultaneously among the walls. Now he could see, he noted the room was rather vast, unlike the place they had just walked through. The ceiling was high, cast in shadows, making Alessandre ponder if there was even a ceiling. The room was rather barren, with little defining features or furniture, except what he assumed was the middle of this hall. What looked to be an ornate, golden mirror stood upright in the centre of the room. Although as Obsidian approached, he realised that no reflection was cast. Around it was many candles and what looked like a small altar, covered in many flowers and herbs. There were some items of note: An ebony dagger, dried bundles of incense wrapped in golden thread, and candles of varying colours, not lit like the sconces surrounding them. Before the altar was an array of soft, navy cushions. Alessandre would have missed them if Obsidian did not take a seat on them, correcting her robes caught around her ankles. Obsidian gestured for him to sit next to her, but he refused. He wanted to ensure he could protect her quickly if there was any incident. Obsidian respected this wish, understanding without him having to speak, and began to light the candles. She gently used a fire spell on them, lighting each one with the tip of her finger.
"Are you here yet?" Obsidian softly spoke, looking at the mirror-like object in earnest. Alessandre waited fretfully, unsure of what was going to happen. He felt his shoulders tense, and his hand gripped his sword even tighter, awaiting something to burst out of the object and seize Obsidian. He wanted to try and inspect the room around them, but his eyes could not be torn away in fear. Perhaps he was making things up, but it felt as if spirits walked the halls and ran their hands along him as they passed.
"This one doesn't have much time today, friend. A few candle times at most." The glass-like object suddenly looked like water rippling after dropping a pebble in a river. As it settled, a small Khajiit appeared in the mirror before them. Her fur was a mix of white, greys and black, and she had the most stunning pair of blue eyes Alessandre had ever seen. They looked otherworldly in nature, which only contributed to the mystery around her. Her ears were ampler than any other Suthay-Raht he had seen in his time. She had several piercings all over her ears, made with what looked to be exquisite jewels and gold. "Who is that behind you?"
Obsidian smiled and turned around to look at Alessandre. "This is my new husband, Alessandre. I spoke about him the last time we met. I wasn't expecting a proposal, but here we are," she beamed. "Please, Alessandre, come and sit with us. She doesn't bite...often, at least."
The Khajiit chuckled. "Obsidian, this one has told you it was an accident. You cannot take one's sweetroll and expect them not to do something."
"I hadn't eaten in three days. What did you expect?" Alessandre was hesitant still but saw how relaxed and comfortable Obsidian was around this Khajiit. He still wondered how the Daedra were involved, why she was trapped in this object or who she was, but he decided to trust her. For now. They peered at him as he slowly walked over and unceremoniously placed himself upon the cushions. His armour felt tight, and the invisible hands grabbed his neck, arms and legs. Though he didn't voice any concern, as when Obsidian placed her hand on his forearm, they subsided in their unwanted touches.
"Obsidian, this one is very tall. He seems taller than you if such a thing is possible." She was sitting in a building similar to the one they were in: a mostly unadorned hall. Alessandre wondered if it was some form of cell. He noted how there were a couple small windows, and peering into them revealed the darkest blue sky he had seen. Sharp, tall spires of rock painted a picture in the sky, making his head spin with questions.
"He is, but only by a few inches or so. I still can't believe it. I wish you could see the size of our new bed. It fits all four of us now and can comfortably accommodate us two", Obsidian laughed. "Thank you for joining us, darling. Alessandre, this is Azirina Kharabbi, the bride of Molag Bal and my oldest and dearest friend. Azirina, this is Alessandre."
Those words clung in his head. The bride of Molag? The Khajiit became even more intriguing while simultaneously making Alessandre concerned. The bride of Molag himself was Obsidian's oldest friend? He wondered how such a thing came to be but decided if there were any unanswered questions he had, he would interrogate Obsidian with them later.
"It's nice to meet you, Azirin- your highness? Forgive me. I'm still not entirely sure what is going on." He admitted, rubbing the back of his head. His shoulders relaxed, although his head was still filled with doubts and questions.
"This one understands. Obsidian told me a little about your past involvements with my husband, but you do not need to worry. Obsidian is a good friend. She will keep you safe. This one apologises for anything her husband has done in the past," she said. She lowered her head while her ears drooped. She was dressed in a beautiful lace gown. The front had beautiful embroidery and looked inherently Daedric in nature. It definitely looked like an outfit the Prince would choose. As she moved, the lace draped around her, and the gentle noise of her many pieces of jewellery could be heard clinking. Alessandre wasn't sure how to answer, so he bowed and said nothing.
"So, how is Skyrim then, friend? Has anything changed since last time?" Azirina asked, returning to her original position. She played with a golden bracelet around her wrist. After closer inspection, he realised the clinking wasn't from any jewellery. They came from something that looked like chains.
"Not too many differences, but still a few. As our wedding didn't have to be hidden like my others, most of Skyrim celebrated that day which was a shock. There are whispers that it could become a holiday, which I do personally find...a little strange. But many attended our wedding, and it was a beautiful day. I wish you could have been there too," Obsidian sighed downheartedly before shaking it off and speaking of more positive things. "Vorcano came to visit just a few weeks ago. He's as grumpy as ever, but he's started to pick up a new hobby in writing novels about the Daedra. They're rather fascinating. Vorcano wished for me to ask if he could write one about you and your adventures."
The Khajiit's eyes lit up. "He still remembers this one? That surprises her. I haven't seen the friend in many moons. This one would be honoured if he did." Obsidian smiled at her, but Alessandre noticed small tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He was unsure of their history with each other, but their connection was clearly strong. He could tell that Obsidian missed her friend, and there was something deeper upsetting her. Though he wouldn't ask when she was like this.
"I'll be sure to let him know. I...I don't know how I can get you a copy. Maybe I will just have to read it to you or ask one of my colleagues to find a way to smuggle it in somehow," Obsidian pondered, thinking of how she could get her one. She knew from experience that Molag controlled everything Azirina owned and destroyed any gifts Obsidian had tried to send her previously. She didn't want Azirina to be subject to his rage, so no more presents were sent.
"This one would be content with hearing you read it to me. Has Vorcano written one about your adventures with Mora?" This made Alessandre laugh, perplexing the Khajiit. Obsidian sighed, shaking her head. "Adventures is the exact word I'd use for it. He clearly had drunk too much wine and believed it would be funny to write something a bit...I don't know how to say this out loud. Something sexual."
Azirina shook her head, pretending to gag. "That doesn't surprise this one coming from both of you. Don't look like that Obsidian. This one knows you wouldn't be upset if it were a true story. This one certainly doesn't want to read that." Obsidian blushed slightly and huffed, making the other two chuckle.
"It's funny to taunt her with it, trust me. Hold on, if all written books go to Apocrypha, doesn't that mean Mora has r-" Alessandre started before Obsidian shot him a glance with daggers. "Do not think about finishing that sentence," she told him before returning her gaze to Azirina. "I'll explicitly tell him not to drink anything before writing yours," Obsidian laughed, gazing back at her. Obsidian was pleased that she could provide Azirina even the most subtle bit of comfort in her life. She couldn't begin to imagine how much pain she went through daily. Obsidian had already been subject to how Azirina was treated, let alone after he finally had her in his grasp. It was difficult for Azirina to find time away from Molag to be able to contact Obsidian. Molag kept his bride by his side most of the time, and when he was occupied, he would send several servants to keep an eye on her. Obsidian had even tried to swallow her personal hatred of Molag and begged him to let her see his wife, but he refused. He merely mocked her efforts and tried to make Azirina forget about Obsidian and denied her entry to his realm again. She refused to let that happen, but it frustrated her goal.
Obsidian placed a hand on the mirror-like object, which made Alessandre realise that she couldn't put her hand through it. It wasn't like a portal which he had previously believed. It was solid, just a way to see each other but not to feel. Azirina placed her hand on Obsidian's, making Alessandre wonder if she also owned one of these objects.
"I miss our adventures together when we would sit and talk under the stars or when we would bake sweet rolls. Or the time we both accidentally fell into a river, and I was chased by fish. I miss you so much every day. I'm sorry I couldn't save you." Obsidian's tears finally fell, and Alessandre wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She was significantly colder to the touch than before, and he assumed it was due to the hall. He didn't have anything he could wrap around her, so he pulled her close to his chest.
"This one doesn't blame you for anything. It was destiny. This one had been preparing for it. You worked hard to try and stop Molag. This one misses you too. But remember that you did everything to help and still do. These meetings mean everything. They're what keeps this one going," The Khajiit spoke softly, comforting Obsidian as best as she could. It must have been challenging for them both to be so close and far away, Alessandre thought. He didn't have a relationship dynamic like theirs and no experience of what it would be like.
"I know that, but it's my job to protect people like you from situations like this. And I couldn't. If it was another Prince, I wouldn't mind as much as I do. But you know who your husband is."
"This one can handle it and promises you that she will stay safe." Azirina began to purr as they sat with their hands on the mirror. The noise made Obsidian cry harder but relaxed Alessandre. No one spoke. They listened to Obsidian's soft snuffles and the Bride of Molag's purrs, simply enjoying the presence of each other.
"I'll never stop fighting to get you out of there. I vow it. If it's the last thing I do, then so be it." Her tears were filled with anger. Alessandre could feel it so strongly. It was rare he would see her angry, but this was different. This wasn't just anger. It was passionate wrath. Azirina tried to calm her mind by humming a song quietly to them. It was soft, sweet, enough to nearly send the pair into a blissful slumber. The atmosphere was broken when clamant footsteps could be heard from somewhere nearby. Alessandre frantically looked around them, wondering if someone had followed them all along when he heard Azirina whimper slightly. Her ears had drooped even further than before when the Prince of Domination himself burst into her hiding spot. Alessandre's heart was pounding in his chest, praying to anyone that would listen that the potion worked.
"So, this is where you've been hiding from me, my kitten." His voice sent shivers down Alessandre's spine. It was rasp and coarse and almost sounded like several voices clamouring to be heard. He was in a form smaller than Obsidian was used to but still towered over them all, even when she stood up. His body was that of a vampiric Argonian, a tail of many spikes trailing behind him and sharp horns adorning his head. His eyes were soulless until they glared at Obsidian through the mirror. She was clearly frightened, another sight that wasn't common, but she still tried to stand her ground. She knew he couldn't harm her. The consequences were too devastating. But the more he saw her as a threat, the more he considered it.
"And what is this? Obsidian Dovahkiin once again back to vex me? How does that surprise me? You can try all you like. My bride will never leave my side or Coldharbour. You'll die trying, and then you will be mine. The more you try, the more reasons I have to claim you and watch you be tortured forever." Obsidian stood bravely, her face showing no emotion. She didn't fall for his tauntings or his false promises. Nothing he could do could hurt her, which meant she could have some fun. She sniffed, wiped her eyes and returned his grin.
"I'm afraid you can't do that, Molag. If I remember correctly, you exiled me from Coldharbour "for eternity". A Daedric Prince must be true to his word, must he not? And do you really wish to face all of your brothers fighting over my soul? I'd pledge my soul to you just to see you fall under their advances." She countered, making Molag roar with laughter. He pulled Azirina closer to him, holding a clawed hand around her neck, making her shiver in his grasp.
"You have such a high opinion of yourself, don't you, little dragon? Perhaps I should pay your wife a visit? You might learn to be less defiant if I claim your wife and best friend." Her anger got the better of her, and her calm demeanour vanished.
"You can do whatever you want with me. Claim me as your own, turn me into a vampire, torture me forever, I don't care. You do not hurt my friends as a way to get me to follow you."
"I do not care for your pathetic worship. I want to see you suffer for all the pain you have caused me since you were born. You were destined to serve me and my bride, no matter how much you deny it."
Alessandre stood, unsure of how to react. Frozen in shock and disbelief that Molag truly couldn't sense him. Could he even be seen? Perhaps it was due to his unannounced obsession with Obsidian. He was clueless as to what she could have done in the past to vex him this much. She didn't speak of Molag often. When she did, it was short outbursts of frustration or to comfort Serana when she was upset. He could feel the lifeless hands hold him in place, making him wonder if the potion was wearing off. He struggled against them while watching the scene unfold in front of them. His blood roared in his ears, terrified of Molag and what he was planning.
"If that was true, you wouldn't have hurt me the way you did. You wouldn't have nearly killed my entire tribe in a fit of jealousy. You wouldn't stop me from seeing your bride, and you wouldn't treat her like you do," she screamed at him, grabbing hold of the mirror in anger. Molag did nothing except glare at her, a smirk appearing on his face.
"Obsidian, you may think you have grown, but I still see the fretful child in you. The small and stupid little girl thinks she can decide her fate against the word of a Daedric Prince. I cannot wait for the day I can see her in person again, finally in her place. However, you have defied me and manipulated my bride into thinking she needs you. She doesn't need unnecessary distractions like this, so this ends now. The next time you see her, you and your entire family will have dedicated your souls to our service. Until then, little dragon." He held Azirina's throat even tighter, making Obsidian and Alessandre panic. Obsidian desperately tried to reach into the mirror. She couldn't stand her friend looking so hopeless and scared. Obsidian had no idea what awaited her once she had gone.
Obsidian pawed at the mirror, desperately wishing for something to change when he noticed Molag drawing closer to them. The way his body moved was repulsive while also frightening. Seeing the Daedric Prince this close was threatening, even though, in reality, they couldn't be further away. He shook off those invisible grasps to pull Obsidian down to the floor, covering her head. Molag didn't reach through to grab her as he had anticipated. Instead, the mirror shattered into tiny fragments around them. That mirror was the last known means she had to commune with her friend. She had spent months trying to find a way and even more trying to find a place where they could talk, in secret, far from the prying eyes of Tamriel and her husband.
The noise was deafening, but they could hear Azirina's outcries for one last time. They sounded so desperate and alarmed. Alessandre didn't move, instead holding Obsidian tighter as she sobbed. He had never seen her cry like that before. It was as if their friendship had been shattered along with the glass. Her whole body trembled, and her sobs sounded near demented. Alessandre lifted his head up in curiosity and concern. The shards of glass he expected to see dispersed across the floor were not there. This perplexed him, but he couldn't think much of it. His main concern was ensuring their safety.
Obsidian remained unresponsive to his questioning while her body shook with her cries. Alessandre wasted no time picking her up. She buried her head into his chest as he gently cradled her, running his calloused hand through her hair. Alessandre loved the way it felt between his fingers. The material of her robe tickled his arms slightly as he began to take her back through the hall they had entered through. Obsidian's sobs echoed down into the hall, making it sound as if there were hundreds of her crying in despair.
Alessandre didn't realise just how stale the air was inside until he took a deep breath of the chilly Skyrim breeze. He couldn't quite place how he felt at that moment. A knot of fear had formed in his stomach from seeing the entity responsible for many years of misery. At the same time, being outside again with the winds enveloping his body reminded him that he was alive. Brushing a finger against Obsidian's cheek as she snuffled, he raised his head upwards. His view was still obscured by the trees overhead, though he could once again just make out the light from the moons. Obsidian's cries had begun to subside. Her energy was rapidly being lost from her distress. It felt as if someone had pushed a dozen poisoned daggers into her heart. Alessandre noticed she was muttering something very quietly and moved his head closer to hers to try and interpret what she was saying. All he could sum up was her repeatedly apologising, each time sounding more distressed than the last. He shushed her gently and kissed her cheek.
"You do not need to be sorry, Lavender. You could not have anticipated that to happen," he cooed, sitting on the cobbled path. It wasn't very comfortable and felt slightly damp beneath him, but he settled Obsidian into his lap. She reached her arms around his neck, trying to pull herself closer.
"I didn't know. I didn't ever want you to see that," Obsidian explained weakly. "I shouldn't have made you come with me. I knew the risks. I'm sorry, love." Alessandre sighed and gently planted more kisses on her flushed cheeks.
"I got a chance to meet your friend. See a new part of Skyrim, well, I think Skyrim at least. We're alive still. And I was able to spend more time with you. I'm worried about you," he explained, rubbing a hand through her hair again. It had gotten a little messy while she cried. "Will you be alright after this?"
"I...I don't know. Azirina can fend for herself, but now she's alone. And I suppose I'll have to inform the council of what happened here-" she began before Alessandre interrupted.
"No Lavender. Will you be okay? Not anyone else." Obsidian was quiet for a moment as she retrieved her hands from his neck, using them to push herself up. She had to lean on Alessandre to stay upright but caught her breath for a few moments.
"I'll be fine," she sniffed, wiping her eyes with her hand and taking a deep breath. "I'll be fine. Better once we are home. I suppose we start heading back before Serana and Hefdet come chasing after us." She smiled at him, though he could see her glassy eyes were clearly not happy. He decided not to press further. She would deal with it at a later point like she always would. Obsidian would throw herself into her work or adventures before stopping and processing everything at a later date. But if she needed a distraction, that is what she would receive.
"How about I try and get us home then? You can barely stand up, so I can carry you in my arms and get my armour stuck in the foliage. All while you give me the directions and call me a brute. How does that sound?"
Obsidian chuckled and gave his lips a brief kiss. She was fully aware of his awful sense of direction but decided it'd be best for both of them if she humoured this request.
"That sounds like the perfect plan, my love. If you can get us home before sunrise, I promise to take you to the Nightgate Inn for some horker stew."
"And if I don't return the beautiful maiden to her home before sunrise?" he countered, lifting her up and ensuring she was comfortable in his arms.
"Then we will be utterly lost. And you have to organise my study." She grinned. The last time he attempted to clean her study for her, he knocked off an artefact of Mephala. It made the Prince so angry that she infested the manor with hundreds of tiny Frostbite spiders while Obsidian was away.
"Well, I suppose we best start moving then. I am not stepping foot in that 'study' of yours again. Direct me then, wise compass."
Neither of their fears had subsided. Both remained feeling nauseated and concerned for the well-being of the other. Obsidian's thoughts pondered on the current events in Coldharbour while Alessandre feared for the health and career of his wife. However, in that moment, they found comfort in the small and mundane things and within each other's company. It reminded Obsidian of when she began falling in love with the cold, stoic giant that had fled from a life of pain and ended up blessing her life. She rested her head against his shoulder, breathed in his natural scents and felt her eyes become heavy. They were definitely going to end up lost.