Prologue

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"Dirty Falmer."

Miriam's feet dragged on the floor as the High Elves pulled her along by her wrists, uncaring about the scrapes on her bare feet. The stains of tears on her dirty face had done nothing to sway the Thalmor to free her, or even to ease up on their cruel treatment.

"Same cell as the Blades agent?"

"Cyrelian would throw a fit. I've no doubt he'd claim the worms would work together." Both High Elves laughed aloud. "As though they'd have the strength, let alone the intelligence to do so. Come, let us rid ourselves of this squalling infant of an Elf and cleanse our skin. The Thalmor shouldn't be seen in such a state."

The rusty iron hinges of the cage creaked open, followed by the unceremonious tossing of their prisoner. She continued to cry ever so silently, aware that they would only reward such emotion with pain. With the echoed click of a lock, the pale woman was trapped.

"Thalmor bastards!" She jumped at the sound of another voice, strained as though its speaker was newly awakened. "What, brought another soul to keep me company?" His simpering tone did nothing to hide his hatred. "You can go fuck off, you hear me? Knife-eared sons of bitches!"

The woman forced her head up to inspect her new prisonmate. His face was obscured in shadows, but she could at least note his immense size and heavy chains. She'd been given the slightest bit of freedom by not being shackled, but it would appear that the man had not received so merciful of a treatment. As much of a beating she'd endured in her capture, the man had clearly suffered far worse under the torturer's lash. Wounds crisscrossed his skin, some scabbed over while some were visibly fresh.

He muttered something under his breath, likely a curse against their capturers. His head turned to her, features shrouded in the same darkness that hid his own. "Welcome to the Thalmor dungeon," he growled, shaking his chains without a hint of amusement. "You'll be here for a while." His voice lowered even more. "Frankly, we'll likely die in this fuckin' place."

The man must have been driven by either curiosity or concern as he scooted closer, as far as his chains would allow. He cleared his throat to get her attention, speaking lowly just in case their interrogators were nearby. "My name is Kaidan." The woman continued to stare at him, not a single word coming from her mouth. "Who're you, then?"

She continued to hesitate, and Kaidan yanked at his chains for the thousandth time that day. When the woman finally dared to speak, it was with a voice soft as falling snow, the antithesis of his rough tone.

"M-Miriam," she replied quietly, tucking her legs under her body. "M-my name is Miriam." The dull torchlight from the hallway illuminated a bit of her features, revealing a thin frame beneath tattered clothes. Hiding her face underneath her curtain of bone-white hair, she inspected him cautiously with pale silver-blue eyes. Just as her words did, her body trembled as well.

Kaidan blinked slowly. "Miriam?" He tasted the name on his lips. "Well Miriam, I'd say it's nice to meet you, but..." He rustled his chains again, apparently to make a point.

Miriam hugged her knees. "I-in these c-circumstances, it's n-not very nice a-at all." Her heavy stutter obviously caught Kaidan's attention, and she was relieved when he made no mention of it. "Y-you said your n-name was Kaidan?"

He nodded. "Aye. Kaidan."

Miriam edged herself a bit closer to the cell wall separating them, slim fingers slipping around the iron bars. "W-why are y-you here, K-Kaidan?"

The query instantly brought a scowl to the man's face, sending a pulse of fear through Miriam's chest. "The Thalmor invited me to high tea, what do you think?" he snarled, harsh look fading upon noting the unhidden hurt on Miriam's face. He followed with a long sigh. "I dunno. Some Justiciars ambushed me outside of Riverwood." The dark-haired man bent a bit, wincing and cradling his ribs as he irritated a fresh lash.

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⏰ Last updated: Oct 20 ⏰

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