Truth
By Morty and Greenie
18th Midyear 4E208, late night, Alik’r camp. Silence reigned over the Alik’r camp as Jaraleet made his way back into it, each step taking him further and further into the rows of tents that formed the temporary city that their nomadic hosts called their home for the time being. His steps were resolute as he navigated through the maze that were the ‘streets’ of the city, a clear destination in his mind and yet, despite the certainty in his step and the direction where he was going, doubts gnawed on the Argonian’s mind. He knew full well that he had to talk to Meg, the look that she had given him during the groups meeting was a clear indicator that they had, no,
needed to talk, and yet Jaraleet wasn’t sure how to approach the Nord woman. He was certainly sure that she was angry at him, and with that knowledge also came the certainty that he had hurt her; the very thing that he had been trying to avoid.
But how to approach her? What to say? Of this, the Argonian wasn’t sure but he knew that it was time for him to stop lying to Meg. So absorbed was in his own thoughts that, at one point, the Argonian had stopped looking ahead, his gaze instead cast downward as he continued to try and sort his thoughts.
"Oh... Jaraleet." The voice belonged to Meg, recognizable to the Argonian but devoid of the usual enthusiasm when she was talking to anyone. She had just left her tent, pack on her back and her cloak on top of that, as if she was headed out somewhere. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the little light that escaped the tents was enough to show she was not doing too well. Lips pressed together once more, eyes still heavy and seemingly only paying attention to what was directly before her, she hadn’t actually noticed the Argonian man until she nearly bumped into him. "Haven' slept yet? Or maybe yer goin' t'fight more shadows?" It was not her concern, not really, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Meg…” The Argonian said, his voice catching in his throat as he noticed the usual enthusiasm in her voice gone. He felt a pang of pain in his heart, his guts twisting with guilt as he noticed how she looked; this was his fault, he recognized. “No, no.” He finally replied once he got over the shock, shaking his head slightly. “I….I was looking for you.” Jaraleet said, letting out a soft sigh. “I wanted to talk with you.” He added, his voice quieter than before.
"Hm." Meg was quiet a moment before nodding. She turned around with a beckon of her hand, leading the way back to her tent, which wasn't actually too far away, given she had only just left it. Inside the she lit the candle which she had doused only a few minutes earlier, the wax still warm to the touch. Once she was done, she let out a sigh before turning around to face Jaraleet.
"About?" she finally asked, green eyes staring into his amber ones, dark eyebrows rising in question. "Gregor?" She couldn't imagine what else he might wish to say. "Seems I was righ' 'bout Nblec."
An' y'knew it too.“About Gregor, yes.” He finally started, somehow able to stare back into Meg’s green eyes. “And about other things too.” He continued on, moving a step closer to Meg than before. “I…” He began hesitantly, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “I know you are angry at me, and with good reason, but...but I’m here to try and remedy that, if you’ll let me.” Jaraleet said, letting out a sigh. “No more lies...no more secrets, I swear.”
“Well, I ain’ gonna stop you,” Meg replied with a nod. She looked around, eyeing the still messy clothes from the previous night; without much care, she kicked them to the side before sitting down on her bedroll. “Sit down, kinda tirin’ t'just stand an’ talk.”
Jaraleet nodded before sitting in front of Meg. “Don’t suppose you have a drink around? I feel that I could use one, well both of us given how this day has been shaping.” He said with a sigh before falling silent, the seconds stretching as he pondered on how to start. “I knew that Gregor had murdered Nblec, yes. I learned about it shortly after our little sparring match back in the Three Crowns, when the news were still fresh and everyone thought I had killed him.” He finally began, shaking his head. “I didn’t learn about what Gregor….was until later. After the party.”
“As for his...condition, I learned that today. Same as the rest of you.” He continued on, looking at Meg straight in the eyes. “I kept quiet about Nblec’s murder, tried to dissuade you from prying into the matter, because I wasn’t sure what Gregor would do if he was backed into a corner.” He said, letting out a sigh. “ I was….afraid that he’d end up hurting you, since you seemed so intent on getting to the truth of the matter.” He finally admitted, shaking his head slightly. “I….” He tried to speak before falling silent again. “That’s the main reason, truthfully, I didn’t know what Gregor would do and I was afraid that he’d hurt you. He had already jeopardized our position in Gilane by killing Nblec, I didn’t put it past him to try and attack one of us in desperation if we cornered him.”
Unwilling to interrupt as he spoke, Meg remained silent, though she was listening intently to his reasoning. Once he was finished, she shrugged off the cloak and pulled her backpack in front; undoing the drawstring that held it tightly closed, she reached inside and pulled out a bottle of ale. She would have preferred mead, truth be told, but she hadn’t been able to procure any. Still quiet, she uncorked the bottle and set it in front of the Argonian, letting out a sigh as she did. The way she acted was systematic, methodical, an so very unlike her. Really, it was just an excuse to give her time to think of what she wanted to say… but it was no good, because she
still didn’t know.
She let out another breath and shook her head, looking to the dusty ground, fingers trailing and drawing out goodness knew what before she brushed it all away with the flat of her hand, ignoring the prick of sharper pieces of dusty debris. “I can understan’ tha’,” she finally uttered, eyes still on the ground. “I can understan’ wantin’ t’protect someone y’care ‘bout… I can get keepin’ someone’s secret. I know I do stupid stuff, goin’ an’ askin’ him jus’ like tha’, goin’ off t’fin’ Sora…
“But Jaraleet… he was a
necromancer. An’ all this…
shit tha’s happened, all of the pain… all because
he did somethin’. Raelynn didn’ have t’be tortured. Sora didn’ have t’be humiliated, hurt, kidnapped-” Her breath caught in her throat, hands clenched into fists. It suddenly felt painful to even breathe. “Even if y’didn’ think I should know… what ‘bout Sora? She- she risked
everythin’ for us. She coulda left us t’fuckin’ die in Anvil, y’know? She didn’ owe us
shit. But she didn’ leave us. She came for us, she saved our asses. She deserved t’know, even if no one else did.”
“Maybe you are right, maybe I should have told Sora.” Jaraleet conceded with a sigh, taking the bottle of ale in one of his hands and taking a long drink. “But would she had even believed me if I had told her that I knew Gregor had murdered Nblec? Only you and Latro seemed to believe that there was more to what had happened with Nblec. And by the time I learnt that he was a necromancer, things were already in motion.” The Argonian said, shaking his head slightly. “Truth of the matter is, regardless of what Gregor did, we were already doomed in Gilane. The Dwemer already knew where we were staying Meg, I’ll admit that maybe they wouldn't have captured Sora, wouldn't have humiliated her, but I can say with certainty that we wouldn't have gotten out of Gilane unscathed.” He finished, taking another drink of the bottle of ale before offering it to the Nord woman.
Meg shook her head- for once she didn’t want to drink, wishing for a clear head to actually think and analyze what he was saying. It was almost foreign to her, this feeling of doubt and uncertainty, when all she had ever tried to be was trusting. "Y'can never know wha's gonna happen 'til y'do it," she finally replied. "Tellin' her coulda saved her some pain." She looked to the ground, shaking her head. "We dunno. We dunno anythin'. I dunno anythin'... 'cept this is wrong, all of it. An' I can' handle just... pushin' things away an' actin' like it's all fine 'cause it ain'." She paused, taking in a deep breath before letting it out. "It doesn' matter whether we would've been hurt or not, Jaraleet... tha' ain' the point. It's the trust. It's- where's it? How can we be a group with so many secrets an' so li'l trust, tha' somethin' like a necromancer was hidden?"
Jaraleet was silent as he pondered Meg’s words, taking another sip from the bottle as he thought on what to say. “I don’t know.” Was what he finally said, shaking his head slightly. “My whole life has been spent on the shadows of society, where secrets and a lack of trust were the norm and not the exception.” He explained, letting out a sigh. “So I couldn’t answer your question, not truly. I can see why Gregor lied, it was safer for him and, in this land, I’m afraid to say that it was also safer for all of us that he lied.” He said, swallowing hard. “Which is why we must keep quiet now, or else we are all going to die.” The Argonian spoke quietly, taking another drink. “I’m not saying it isn’t wrong, that this whole situation isn’t a mess….” Jaraleet spoke, trying to explain himself before he finally let out a sigh.
“All I’m saying is that we’ve gotta deal with the cards that we’ve been handed over, there isn’t much we can do truthfully. There are far too many enemies out there for us to tear ourselves apart. This group, with all its secrets and so little trust in it, is the best bet we have right now.”
"Is it though... is it?" Meg crossed her arms tightly over her chest, shaking her head. "Y'saw today. Gaius an' Jude. Calen. Even me- I couldn' even have imagined somethin' like... whatever he was. I didn' know what the fuck t'say, or if it'd even matter. How do ya just ignore an' act like it's all gonna be okay? It ain'!"
She frowned, shaking her head. "I'm not gonna go spreadin' shit aroun'," she added, eyes narrowed as she looked up at Jaraleet. "Fjolte can do what he wants with Gregor, y'all can do whatever." She sounded bitter, upset, even though she was trying to keep calm. "Ain' like I know anythin' anyway. Soon 'nough we'll be in Skyrim, least I know somethin' bout there..." Her voice trailed to a stop.
Jaraleet was silent for a moment, letting the silence stretch for a few moments. “I’m not saying it will all be ok, far from it.” He finally said, his voice quiet. “Throughout my life I’ve used whatever means were available to me to complete my missions. And, right now, my mission is ensuring that this group, that you, get out of this mess alive. If I need to shake hands with someone like Gregor, so be it.” He said quietly, letting out a sigh. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’ve not forgotten what Gregor did. Or it’s gravity but, right now, there’s nothing that we can do about it and we need all the help that we can get at present.”
“And….I’m in no position to judge him myself.” He finally added, letting out a sigh and taking another drink from the bottle. “I’m no good person, not like you, or Jude, or even Calen. It would be hypocritical on my part to judge him for the crimes that he has committed, not with the ones that I have done.”
Meg was silent once more. Her mind could agree to what he was saying, her mind knew there was sense to his words. She couldn't blame him either, she couldn't blame anyone. Her heart on the other hand was reaching its limit, disagreeing with logic and reason because it hurt.
Breathing out loud, she spoke up. Aside from Gregor, she knew there was more she needed to hear about, something that had been pushed under the rug for much too long. "You said no more lies... no more secrets. So tell me." Her green eyes were dark, piercing. "What else didja wanna talk 'bout?"
Jaraleet met Meg’s eyes, swallowing hard before he spoke again. “About my past, about who I am.” He said, letting out a breath he hadn’t know he had been holding. “Earlier today you asked me what Sevari had meant when he said we came from the same world.” The Argonian began speaking, looking at Meg directly in the eyes. “I told you that we both are assassins and spies, that is the truth. It is what I am, what he is.” He continued on, his hands gripping his knees. “But it is not the full truth. It’s...complicated to explain about it, since it’s something tied very deeply to the culture of us Saxhleel. Tell me, do you know about the Dark Brotherhood? Of it’s destruction?”
Meg shook her head. "I didn' really like gettin' involved in stuff like that." She had certainly heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but in name and never in deeds. Hers was always a life that dealt with bandits or thievery and nothing more unsavory.
“I see, I see.” Jaraleet replied, falling silent for a moment as he pondered where to start. “Since the Dark Brotherhood existed, we Argonians had a...relationship with them, you could say.” He began, letting out a sigh. “Those of us born under the sign of the Shadow would be trained as Shadowscales and sent to work with the Brotherhood, albeit they also were an important part of Argonian society itself.” Jaraleet continued on, pausing for a moment to give Meg time to process what he had just told her. “With the destruction of the Brotherhood, the Shadowscale tradition died too. This, of course didn’t last.” He said, his eyes falling down to look at his hands. “The An-Xileel saw the error that had led to the destruction of the Shadowscales of old, too tied to a group of outsiders like the Brotherhood who’s only link to Argonia was that they too recognized the importance of Sithis.”
“And so they created a new group, the Haj-Eix. Hidden Scales in the tongue of the Empire.” Jaraleet said, pausing for a second. “I was part of the first batch of trainees, handed when I was 5 years old to be taught the needed ways.”
"Five years?" Meg had to think far back to try and remember where she even was when she was that young. Riverwood or Riften? The years seemed to blur, though perhaps it made no difference. Her eyes had shifted away from the Argonian yet again, looking at her hands now resting in her lap, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. "So... since you were a kid, you were t'be a killer... an assassin, righ'?" What about what he had told her about his family back in Anvil? Was there any truth to that? She wanted to ask, but the idea that it could have been a lie kept her from doing so.
Jaraleet nodded in response to Meg’s question. “Yes, since I was 5 years old. Those of us selected to the training….we were family. We were all that we had when we had to endure the training sessions, when we had to learn to withstand torture so that we wouldn’t break and spill any information about Blackmarsh….” The Argonian said, his voice eerily neutral despite the horrible experiences that he was speaking about. “To this day the scars are still present all around my body, a memento of what I endured, what I lived through.” He said, shaking his head. “My birth parents, my mother died and my father has been reduced to an alcoholic wreck after her loss. Bandits got to them, you see.” He explained to Meg, looking at her in the eyes. “The only people I had in this world were my brothers and sisters in the Haj-Eix. At least before I joined this group….before I met you.”
"I can' imagine how that must've been." Meg's voice was quiet, nearly muted, the gravity of what he was telling her weighing down on her shoulders; she didn't know how hard it had to have been for him to admit this to her. A part of her wanted to get up and hug him, tell him it was going to be alright. But she knew now that hugs and positive words weren't always the solution... and she knew that it would just be selfish on her part, because
she didn't want to face reality. She wanted the rose but not the thorns that came along with it, and that was just wrong.
"So now...?" She looked up at him, the heat from her eyes dampened. "Are ya still their assassin? Killin'... torturin'...?" It wasn't easy to ask, and she knew it had to be hard to answer, but now that the truth was out, she wanted to know.
“The last time I had any contact with the AN-Xileel, with the Haj-Eix, was back in Anvil. I told them that I was going to look into the return of the Dwemer, but since then….nothing.” He said, his shoulders sagging. “There’s been no contact, no orders from them. For all I know they think me dead, or that I deserted. I was already in troubles before the Dwemer returned.” The Argonian explained, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know, truly.” He replied, an edge of uncertainty in his voice. “I’m left adrift in the currents of the river, with no clear destination in mind.”
Once again Meg didn't know what to say to this, or rather how to share her thoughts on the matter. She wanted to believe him, and in her mind she did, but her heart was still very unsure. "An' wha' if they did send y'a message? Wha' if that was somethin' that would hurt the group? You've known 'em yer whole life. Us... what... a month? a li'l more?" She hated the way she sounded, but she couldn't stop the bite in her voice.
“I don’t know.” The Argonian replied, uncertainty plain in his voice. “I truly don’t know what I’d do.” He said, desperation slowly, but surely, mixing with the uncertainty that he had displayed previously. “I….” He began before falling silent not second afterwards, his hands balled into fists. Part of him wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt the group, to hurt her. But he wasn’t sure if he could say that, would he truly discard all that he was, all his brothers and sisters, for just one woman? “I don’t know.”
Sighing, Meg shook her head. Despite her uncertainty and her pain, she couldn't help but feel guilty for causing him the discomfort that he was clearly feeling. Once again she had the squash the impulse to reply that it would all be okay. She closed her eyes, stinging as they were, composing herself before finally opening them.
"I like you Jaraleet. I like you more than I like mos’ people, maybe more than jus' like, truth be told. If someone tried t'hurt ya, I'd make sure they'd learn the painful way not t'mess with someone I care 'bout. I'd've done the same for others in the group too, 'cause we're a family. But... after t'night, I dunno. The trust tha' was there is-"
broken"-shaken."
“I know, I know.” Replied Jaraleet with a sigh, taking a deep breath to calm himself once again. “I won’t say that everything will be alright, you and I both know that there’s too much going on, both inside and outside of this group, for that to be certain.” He said, stopping himself from reaching out to Meg and to give her a hug, to try and console her somehow that way. “But I do know one thing.” Jaraleet said as he looked at Meg in the eyes, reaching for one of her hands and taking it in his own. “You….are someone who’s precious to me.” He continued on, his voice gaining some measure of confidence as he went on. “And I don’t….I don’t want to hurt you, not anymore.” He said, squeezing her hand softly. “Which is why I’m here tonight, telling you all of this, no matter how painful it might be. Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore with my lies, with my secrets.” The assassin said, pausing to take a deep breath. “You just said that what you felt for me went beyond more than just simply liking someone. The truth is….the same goes for me.” He finished, pausing for a second before he spoke again. “I love you.”
It took a moment for Meg to register what the Argonian had just said to her. She looked at him in surprise, blinking a few times, unable to bring words to her mouth. Love? It was such an easy word to say but with such complex meaning. She wanted to get to know more about him, spend more time with him, and then perhaps she could repeat the words. But right now, as much as she wanted to make things happy once more and just go back to whatever was normal, she knew it would be wrong to, at least now, when emotions were rife and she was not in her right mind.
"Thank you," she replied, squeezing Jaraleet's hand. "I... appreciate it, and one day I wanna say the same to ya. But righ' now... I
am hurtin'." She paused, taking a breath, feeling sorrowful; she had searched for love for a long time, and now that it was being offered, she didn't know what to do.
“I understand.” Jaraleet said softly as Meg squeezed his hand. “I….know it probably wasn’t the best time to….say such things.” He spoke before smiling softly at Meg. “But I told you that there’d be no more lies or secrets from me, didn’t I?” He said, chuckling softly. “I know you probably need more time, so I’ll wait for your answer. Whatever it might be.”
“Thanks.” Meg gave him a weak smile, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. Sighing softly, she grabbed her pack and pulled it back on before standing up and wearing her cloak as well. “I was gonna take a walk so… I’mma catch ya tomorrow, a'ight?”
Jaraleet merely nodded to Meg’s words, afraid that his voice might fail him. He watched as the Nord woman left her tent, remaining on the spot where he was sitting before he drew in a shuddering breath. Standing up, he left the tent and headed away from the tent and the camp in general. As he gained more distance, he started reciting an old poem. “
Stars in darkness, constellation…” Soon he was out of the camp and out of eyesight, as if he had been swallowed by the shadows of the night.
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