lamae } OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY

[valgier strong-heart .]

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[atrb=style, width: 145px;][atrb=valign,top] LAMAE/ LUKE SIX THREE THREE I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT! OUTFIT HERE

[atrb=style, width: 265px;][atrb=valign,top] winterhold had never really stuck out in his mind; having never been fond of magic, he paid little attention to college and rarely found himself within the small city. it was rare to fins him in skyrim, in the first place; most of his time spent around every other place in tamriel. for the past hundred years, valgier strong-heart kept his distance from the province and kept himself occupied with other things. though it was hard to occupy someone with such a vast knowledge of everything that was the world, the nord managed. the hound usually found himself hunting, now a days keeping himself in his wolf-like form. not many people knew of who he was and most would find him odd, if they were to see his humanoid form. now, however, valgier found himself in skyrim and walking north of winterhold towards 'skytemple ruin'. though, when the wolf had first visited the ruin, it wasn't as such, but a temple - a temple filled with life and great beauty. now it was withered and dull, scourged by time. walking up to the many steps with ease, he found himself at the front door. placing his hand against the iron, he ran it over the intricate detailing; memories flooded his mind as he drew in a deep breath. the memories were that of happier times, of simpler times, lost and faded into nothing but images in his mind that seemed so long ago that it didn't seem real. it was all just in the past now and valgier had accepted it long ago; there was nothing he could do to change what he was and what had happened to him. the curse of immortality granting him great understanding and maturity that was rarely challenged. finally mustering up the courage, he pushed both doors open and stepped inside, seeing no one but the skeletons of lost adventurers and explorers. his reasoning for being in such a place, he hardly understood it. as much as he disliked being in such a place, he knew that it was a must. it had been a calling to him, a calling and a reawakening as his true purpose became clear once more. the hunt must being once again. a master hunter and a house of hircine, it didn't take much for him to find himself in this ruin; it was an obvious spot to find his prey, for he had thought of this place on many an occasion. himself and his prey thought much a like, both holding the same purpose, to end the life of the other. deeper into the ruins he dove, meeting no threats, as all of them seemed to already have fallen at the hands of someone else. eyes scanning his surroundings and his senses on full alert, he found himself in the main chamber. a figure sat in the throne and immediately he recognized her as his target. the logical thing to do was attack, but valgier had no intention of harming her. taking a few steps towards the throne, he spoke, his voice echoing throughout the high walls of the chamber, "was there any question in me finding you here?" the statement was neutral and casual, no offense intended. she looked completely different and yet the same; he had to admit, upon first glance he did not recognize her. however, after having a few moments, it was undoubtedly the woman of whom he had been seeking, "lamae beolfag, my dear nemesis." his wolfish eyes stayed on her figure, watching for any sudden movements. even though he had no intention of harming her, there was no telling what the child of molag bal would do upon him. he came to a hault in front of the stairs that lead to the throne, "it's been too long."

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[Lamae Beolfag .]

And the Gods wept for she is risen

The throne was far too big for her, curled up like a child sitting in her father's lap, legs to her chest, head resting on bony, pale knees. She didn't know how long she had sat there, staring intently at her toes. Nails as beautiful and sharp as glass, her irises reflected the faint fire-light, gleaming like rubies set into her skull. The ancient, threadbare black dress she had been cursed in hung from her anorexic shoulders, clinging to icy skin, and revealing much more than the imagination could even deceive into existence.

Lamae looked the part of fallen queen, and it had always been her way to make a play for the dramatic if she could manage it. Her senses were sharp, as sharp as razors and she'd known it the moment he entered the ruin. She considered fleeing, so much so she was surprised she still sat in that throne, curled up and awaiting the inevitable sink into a unfeeling statue. A near constant problem for her. Immortality was a tedious mistress, and Lamae would find herself whittling away days at a time rather than just minutes. Roaming her own mind, her own world, plumbing the depths of her own darkness.

She wasn't particularly fond of what it is she found.

Each step he took, she heard and it was by this that she followed his progress through the ruins. Why here? She wondered to herself, curling tighter into herself, almost as if she were physically trying to enter her own corpse of a body. But it was an honest curiosity, and in that, it was a rare thing. Lamae was not a curious creature, she never had been, and she never planned on being one. Curiosity was a danger, and she'd survive until the end, she had to make sure of that or everything would fall apart.

Her fingers were still crusted with the coagulated dust-blood of the Draugur who'd attempted to keep her from reaching the inner sanctum of this place. She'd made no effort to clean her hands. He'd see as he always saw her, with hands red with murder and death, trying to escape everything that was.

He was at the entrance to the Antechamber.

Raising her head, her eyes found him standing there, as splendid as she had once found him to be so long ago. If masculinity had a perfect form, it was him. It was always him. Skin perfectly tanned, hair long and luscious and glorious, eyes as bright as she remembered. The scent he brought with him reminded her of days spent walking alone among the young cultures, her hand in his, sharing stories from before the advent of man, before the Empire, before Vivec, and Sotha Sil and Almalexia and their bitter betrayal. Before the world began collapsing and he left her.

She suddenly hated the way she looked.

He had kept himself perfect, and she had allowed herself to waste away to a ghost of her former self. She may have looked the part of Mother of Monsters, but Lamae would've been lying if she said she preferred that title to his embrace and his kiss.

Eyes drifted closed and her head found her knees again when he began speaking. She allowed herself to soak up every syllable, every breath: "You're voice is still warm. I had forgotten how warm your tone is, how comforting. I've missed that." Her own voice hadn't changed; a whispering breath, keeping the accidental power of her Thu'um at bay.

"But you're wrong, as usual. It hasn't been too long, it'll never be too long. I'd rather have the memory of you slowly leave me over the approaching eons that see you now and recognize what I've lost and what I can never again reclaim." Stretching her legs out, Lamae pulled herself to her feet, skirts cascading down her whip-thin legs, the sound of bare-feet padding over ancient stone was her only sound as she ghosted her away towards a near-by sarcophagus.

"Do you remember when we were here last? I remember it perfectly; it was before the..." She let her whisper carry off into silence. She knew she didn't need to mention the Dragon War, not again. They would never see eye to eye on that: "It was a Temple then, an actual Temple; beautiful in all its decadent self-righteousness. And here lies the High Priest. Do you remember? We spoke with him while he still drew breath. I think he placed a kiss on each of our hands, and I honored him with a chaste kiss to the lips in sarcastic reverence to Gods I despised."

Turning to face Valgier, she felt a wickedly small smile settle on her lips: "You still honor your God, do you not? Is that not what has drawn you here? The Hunt you were supposed to have completed millennia ago? Are you here to kill me? Because I must warn you...you're the only one I'd ever allow too."

STARRING:Lamae and Valgier | WORDS: 834 | OUTFIT: Clickie

[valgier strong-heart .]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true][atrb=style, background-color: #33532e; width: 450px; padding: 5px, bTable][cs=3] HE SAYS HE WILL RETURN ONE DAY

[atrb=style, width: 145px;][atrb=valign,top] LAMAE/ LUKE FIVE EIGHT SEVEN I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT! OUTFIT HERE

[atrb=style, width: 265px;][atrb=valign,top] the years seemed to ware on her, shrinking her down to almost nothing but bone. though she had never been much more than such, she still was not as thin as she was now. his memory of her tarnished before he eyes, her beauty fading and withering with time. yet, he still found her appealing, still found himself yearning for her, just as he had more than a lifetime ago. it was an undeniable bond that the two shared, possibly one that could easily go down in the history of forever. but they hid their bond, hid their love from both the world and one another - valgier despised it with all of his being, all of his soul. if he had the chance to change the events of the past, he could and he would make sure that it ended with lamae in his arms once more. he could still feel her ice cold touch upon his skin, refreshing him and cooling him like nothing really had before. being so hot blooded, even the weather of skyrim was of no hindrance. it was only her touch that had ever truly made him feel chilled. as he entered the chamber and his eyes found hers, he found himself disgusted by the emptiness within them. once so full of fury and passion, now dulled away into nothingness - even though the ruby colour held true, there was no denying valgier of what was really behind those eyes. and at that moment he silently wept for her, for him, for what they could have had. the words that left his lips had shocked even himself. they were forced and fake, as if he were trying to hide the pain within himself from just simply seeing her. that wasn't the case. she had brought out the pain in him so easily, just by a simple few words. the anger grew within him before he looked away from her, unable to keep himself looking at her, "your words? you wish to harm me with them?" he questioned before lifting his gaze to her once again, "you'd rather throw the memory of us away?" his voice was calm, yet held a twinge of pain within it. as old as he was, there was no hiding his emotions from the likes of lamae. nodding at her question, he took a step towards her, looking around the temple before finding his gaze back and locked on her own, "yes. i remember." he replied, his answer simple, "you then kissed mine soon after." he stated and gave her the faintest hint of a smile. the hound would have loved to have stated that back then were happier times, but alas, it was not so. even then, they had to hide their feelings, hide their love for one another. just as he was about to find himself smiling, she spoke of his hunt, of how hircine wished her dead and for valgier to carry out the execution. this brought extreme anger within the hound and, in a blur of supernatural speed, he found himself in front of the woman he knew was able to kill him. with a hand on her throat, he leaned his head in close to her own, "can you take no joy in our reunion?" he hissed before he slightly shook his head, "do you not rejoice at the sight of me?" it killed him to know the answer, but he pressed on, "i do not wish to kill you, even though i follow my god." he murmured, "i will never kill you."

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[Lamae Beolfag .]

And the Gods wept for she is risen

“Then you are not truly following him, are you?” Lamae spat her words at Valgier, voice suddenly filled with endless loathing as she wrenched his hand from her throat, eyes flashing with undying malice. “If you do not plan on ending me, then you will not lay a hand on me again.” Arms wrapped around themselves, Lamae walked several paces away – her back turned to him while she collected herself. Eyes closed; deep breaths in and out. She would not be cowed by his voice, by his face and touch and skin and honeyed, ultimately empty words.

Never again… Lamae vowed silently to herself, despite the pain it brought. She was stronger than that. She would have to be.

“What joy is there in this reunion for me to take, pray tell?” Finding her whispering tone, she voiced her question, only just slightly turning her head towards him. “I was asleep for over a century. Time has little meaning to us, but I lost one hundred years, Valgier. I had just gotten over our romance, and I was finally able to put my feelings for you, this unending longing aside. And then I went to sleep, and I awake the next day and a century has passed over-night. And then you’re here. In all your splendor and self-rightous faith and it brings everything I lost back into focus. Everything I gave up.” She hadn’t felt tears in millennia, but as Lamae stood there – she could feel the hot blood-clouded salt water slither down her cheek. Turning to face him, she felt very small.

In her dirty dress, with her filthy hair and pallid skin and terrifying countenance, she felt as a lark does next to a beetle; a small snack, a diminutive, unnoticed plaything before being extinguished.

I will not bow to him.

With a resilient hand, unflinching in the face of her inner-revolt, she wiped the tears from her face; smearing the faintly-bloody moisture across her cheeks. “You come here, and you act indignant towards me. Like you’re angry at me? And I must say, how dare you. You broke my heart. Not the other way around.” She could feel a mixture of dust and bone-meal in between her toes and with a disdainful glance down at herself, Lamae found herself smiling.

I am weaponized beauty turned black with rot. She looked up at the man she loved and desired more than anything in this world, yet kept eternally out of her reach. He is weaponized beauty resplendent with ignorance and confidence.

Let’s see who wins this race…

STARRING:Lamae and Valgier | WORDS: 430 | OUTFIT: Clickie

[valgier strong-heart .]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true][atrb=style, background-color: #33532e; width: 450px; padding: 5px, bTable][cs=3] HE SAYS HE WILL RETURN ONE DAY

[atrb=style, width: 145px;][atrb=valign,top] LAMAE/ LUKE FOUR NINE TWO I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT! OUTFIT HERE

[atrb=style, width: 265px;][atrb=valign,top] an exception to his deadric master was always made when it came to lamae and his affection towards her. the similarities between them had tugged upon his heart and caused him to feel things he never had before. being someone with such strength and immortality as a hound of hircine, it was hard for him to relate to anyone, even his own children. they were much weaker, much less evolved than he was; but lamae, she held all of the same immortaility, the sam strength had he had and that within itself brought him great joy. many had tried to make them love him, had tried to show him the same pleasure that lamae had, but to no avail. married many times, all of his wives died after a few centuries and he was left alone, yearning for the woman who now stood before him in all of her fallen splender, "i suppose not. he stated, simply as she threw his hand away from her throat, "but what of you? do you plan on killing me? or sending me through and to the soul cairn?" he questioned, taking in her every move with great caution. though he did not wish to harm her, there was no telling as to what she would do towards him. "there had been a time where you had been finished with me? a time where i was not within your mind?" he questioned, walking towards her before he placed his hands upon her shoulders, "then i envy you, lamae." he explained before going into much mroe detail, "for then you did not have to live with the temptation of going against a master's will. you did not need to feel the pain within your gut and think about what had been lost." his words were sincere and genuine as he gave her shoulders a soft squeeze, slowly gliding them off her before he took a step back, "if only for a little while, you had the freedom i never once had, since we had given ourselves to one another..." he watched as she turned towards him, seeing the evidence of sorrow and pain running down her cheeks. a wave of relief washed over him, as well as a sense of love - she still felt pain, she still felt something. with eyes soft and hand urging to reach out and hold her, he refrained and held still, watching her with a confident stature. even as she accused him of breaking her heart, he stayed strong and tall, "neither of us broke each other's heart, my dove." he explained before he took a step towards her, "our story is just tragic. do you not thin kthat my heart broke when we knew we could never be?" he inquired, his eyes giving her a look before he turned them to the ground, "never did i wish to hurt you, but this is how it must be. we both know this..."

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