Chapter Text
Evren scowled as she was dragged out of her room by Sheogorath, "yep. Ya gonna live here, ya gotta work."
"Fine," Evren scowled and Sheogorath grinned.
"No go out there and guard the Fringe!" he exclaimed, shoving her out the door. Evren yelped and stood confused as the door slammed shut behind her. Evren let out a low grown and walked through Crucible grumpily. The light was dim as always as she continued West, though whether or not the Shivering Isles even had a working compass was unknown to her. More accurately, she would be traveling left. Evren didn't understand why Sheogorath could just teleport there but decided he didn't because he could.
Among other wild reasons that he could somehow loop together such as "not enough cheese."
Evren chuckled to herself. The irritating prince was, at times, amusing. Haskill had agreed but shown no signs of actually sharing Sheogorath's fleeting feeling for him. Haskill had claimed he knew of Sheogorath's infatuation but had seen its result: the prince immediately changing his mind, growing bored, or completely forgetting altogether.
Still, Evren decided, there would be a hope for them yet. Evren made it to Passwall in record time and entered through one of the gates. The Gatekeeper looked up at her but otherwise ignored her. Evren shuddered and hurried past, walking through Passwall and wondering if she could meet Stanley. After a few minutes of searching, Evren entertained the idea that there was indeed no talking grapefruit in Passwall and left. She walked a dark path shaded by massive menacing mushrooms before she reached its end. The portal to Cyrodiil.
Evren grazed her fingers along the surface and yelped as her fingers turned grey and withered. Evren backed away and her fingers went back to normal. She curled them and glared at the portal, "damn you."
Evren sat there for hours, giving directions to Passwall to anyone insane enough to pass and kicking everybody else out. Evren didn't really need to sleep much here in the Shivering Isles and could keep this up for a while. That didn't mean she wasn't devastatingly bored. After a few days, Hermaeus Mora appeared, hovering around her.
"I was told you'd be guarding the door to Cyrodiil" he spoke.
"Yeah," Evren nodded and looked up at him. There was an awkward silence before Evren turned back to the door. "How goes your research?"
"I have found somebody with an unreadable fate, an albino Nord training at Winterhold. She will be graduating soon, I shall contact her then to see if she can help."
"Good," Evren smiled and let out a small sigh, "what's her name?"
Hermaeus Mora almost replied but was interrupted by a massive snake lunging at him. Hermaeus glared at it and flung it to the side with ease and it crashed into the ground. It quickly rose again and Evren took out her bow and shot the snake. The shadowy arrow pierced its neck and it let out an angry shriek. Evren leapt behind Hermaeus when the serpent dove for her and he defended her. The daedric snake was quickly slain and vanished back to Quagmire. Evren scowled and swung the longbow over her shoulder, looking up at Hermaeus.
"The string. How did you-"
"I had Mephala do it," Evren's scowl deepened.
"Thank you. But why do I not feel any different?"
"She said that the emotions would only be allowed to flow as they please," Evren shrugged.
"I see," he grumbled, surprisingly disappointed. Evren smiled slightly, glad to see he still cared about his free will. Granted, Evren wasn't surprised, him being Hermaeus Mora and all. "I hope they can then flow to something we can both accept."
"So do I," Evren nodded.
"What am I?" Evren stared at him, confused and he elaborated, "to you? I do not mean to ask you what I am emotionally, but literally."
"You're a daedric prince," Evren replied, "a demon, in the eyes of many. Perhaps they're simply upset that ye see through all of 'em, jealous even."
"And you?"
"Ya don't seem to be able to see through me. I could care less about what I can see. I believe ye to be simply confused to human morals," Evren answered him, completely honest, hinting even.
"What do you believe I meant?" Hermaeus let out a low growl and Evren flinched away, "I am well aware you heard that conversation. I had been hoping you wouldn't assume that it was to manipulate you, that you would perhaps know me well enough to know otherwise. You do not know my difficulties-"
Evren was backing away from the angry daedra, growing quite irritated herself before she snapped, interrupting him, "you daedra are just as blind to mortals as we are to you. Don't pretend we ever could know each other well enough or that you know my difficulties."
Hermaues glared at her and Evren refused to take it, fleeing into the Fringe. Guarding the gate to the Fringe was nobody's job, just the Gatekeeper's to guard the rest of it.
Evren could not sense the daedra following, a great relief to her nerves. The rest of the Fringe, however, was not so relieving. Evren found a small hole to curl up in. The eerie silence was destructive to her thoughts. She was seeing shadows pace outside of her hiding spot, unsure if they were real or not. Evren didn't care. She would stay in that hole for a few more years if she had to.
She began hearing a low rumble of a growl and saw something red being dragged through the fallen, dead leaves. Suddenly, the red thing began lifting, the leaves falling off its sides as something seemed to emerge from its bloody cacoon. Evren's heart nearly stopped when it looked over at her hiding place, its sunken eyes distant to the point that Evren wasn't entirely sure what it was. Its had a long snout that stretched open like a flower as it hissed. It was not a sight she would like to see not one of the hunger, not here.
It tiptoed toward her, almost like a cartoon character. A hideous and deadly one at that. Evren gripped her dagger, ready for a fight. That was until she saw a few more of the bloody cacoons lifting up out of the grounds and beginning to tear open. Evren lunged out of her little den, slicing her dagger across the throat of the first hunger and running from the half a dozen or so that chased after her.
Evren wasn't that fast, but she was determined, slipping under dead trees and massive mushrooms. They easily caught up to her and the first pinned her to the ground. Evren shrieked as its fangs sunk into her shoulder. Evren continued to scream as the hunger mauled her, pinning her to the forest floor. Evren was bleeding quickly, her vision clouding over as everything faded into static.
I'm sorry.
Hermaeus Mora teleported to New Sheoth when Evren ran away, glaring at Sheogorath. "Ah, it's good to see ya back, old pal!" Sheogorath explained, clapping his hands together, "what's new, old coot!?"
"I'm done," Hermaeus spat, maintaining his glare. Sheogorath drooped first then proceeded to let out a groan of disappointment.
"Couldn't do this to ya forever, eh?" Sheogorath shrugged suddenly, "I understand why she... might have had other ideas."
"I never trusted you, Sheogorath. I am well aware," Hermaeus replied flatly.
"Then ye shouldn't have left me alone," Sheogorath shrugged and laughed, "but fine! I'll let time go on just about as normal as normal goes around these parts. You go back to your hidy murky hole back in Apocrypha and think about the mistake you made."
"I do not take kindly to disrespect, Sheogorath," Hermaeus hissed angrily and Sheogorath leaned toward him, poking his massive eye.
"What're ye gonna do 'bout it lad? It's not exactly a contest of knowledge," Sheogorath grinned and Hermaeus Mora pushed him away, "now get outa here!"
Herma Mora complied angrily, returning to his realm. Miraak stood to attention, glaring with resentment through his mask. "I take it that it did not go well... master?" Miraak inquired. Herma Mora glared back at his servant. Miraak gave a respectful nod, "I see, Master. But you are fickle."
"You've lasted this long, Miraak," Herma Mora growled. The loyalty of his servant was certainly questionable. Miraak could hide nothing from Hermaeus but the mortal provided entertainment at times. With the issue of Evren, he also provided an ear for Hermaeus to complain to. Miraak was used to that, grateful that Herma Mora's wrath was pointed toward him less often. No, Herma Mora, to Miraak at least, seemed to be frequently angry at himself. This was not one of those days.
"I understand your threat and I refrain," Miraak apologized, or rather his version of the action, "I suppose you are going to-"
"I found her guarding the gate to Cyrodiil," Hermaeus Mora started his rant.
"-I thought so," Miraak muttered.
"She just assumed the meaning of my actions, that I was trying to make her... love me," Herma Mora trailed off, never liking to say that word. Too much emotion. It wasn't like him. "I had Sheogorath reset the flow of time in the Shivering Isles and he admitted into tricking her. So, I'm not sure who I should be enraged at for this."
"I have no advice to the Prince of the Unknown," Miraak shook his head, "romance was never my strong point."
"I had noticed, despite your attempts while you lived," Hermaeus Mora glared and Miraak returned that glare.
"I suppose it's something we can both agree on: romance is neither my fortitude nor yours, my Lord."