As they approached the foothills of the mountains, the pair came upon an old set of stairs carved into the stone. Telindil turned to look back at Tarene with a predictably mischievous grin, and started jogging up them before the sellsword could protest. Tarene sighed quietly and followed after his employer, resigned to simply following him around until they arrived at whatever destination the mage had in mind.
As they climbed higher, things started to seem….off. The path they had discovered followed a pattern - a few short steps, then a landing, a few more steps, and a landing - and there was an awful amount of blood and scorch marks splattered across the stone. Tarene was struck by Telindil's apparent disregard for these disturbing clues, but more so by his own. As if on a rail, he followed after the mage as they climbed higher…and still higher….and still impossibly higher. Tarene was just beginning to wonder how far up they had gone when he began to see smoke drifting up through the air.
They finally came upon a large shrine set at the top of the stairway. A statue stood tall as the dominating piece; it depicted some strange, aged figure in swirling robes that, partway down, morphed into some sort of reptilian, tentacle protrusions. The figure raised a sword high above their head, and into the stone before this statue was chiseled a spiral caving, and a lone stone pillar rising up from its center point. Daedric script encircled the pillar and its spiral, and for some reason he could not fathom, Tarene saw nothing wrong with this.
"What a strange shrine." Telindil commented as they stood before it, seeming to share Tarene's lack of concern for its foreboding appearance. "I wonder what culture worshiped here. I thought the Ancient Nords were all about the dragons." To this, Tarene only shrugged. History had been one of his worst subjects, and he no longer bothered with it in-depth. Particularly around Telindil, who already knew of this shortcoming, and mocked it mercilessly.
"You know, I saw a few tents on the way up here." Telindil spoke up. Tarene furrowed his brow, but didn't say anything. He couldn't remember seeing anything but empty space, grey skies, and rock on the way up. "I'm going to go see if anyone is around." The mage started to turn away, and now, Tarene moved, reaching out to grab his shoulder.
"Lyn, wait. That's dangerous." The sellsword argued. "You hired me to protect you, didn't you? Let's just stick together. I…" Tarene sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this place." Telindil smiled condescendingly at the younger Altmer, and reached up to remove his hand from his shoulder. He entwined his fingers with Tarene's, pulling the hands to his chest and forcing Tarene to step closer.
"You seem to be forgetting that I'm an accomplished mage." Telindil replied smoothly. A soft warmth began to bloom under Tarene's hand, and the sellsword's frown became apologetic. Telindil's smile then curved down into a mild snarl. "You don't think I can't handle myself, do you Tari? Because I can more than prove you wrong." The soft warmth suddenly began to grow hotter, and Tarene's eyes widened. He tried to yank his hand from Telindil's grip, but the mage held him in place for a few seconds before relenting. Tarene finally yanked his hand away, and as he did, an arcane flame sprang to life in Telindil's hand.
"L-Lyn!" Tarene shied back, checking his hand for any serious burns. The leather palm of his gauntlet was singed, but otherwise intact. The sellsword looked back at the mage with an accusatory glare that he wasn't quite ready to back up. "Don't do that! That really hurts!" Immediately, Telindil's frown became sympathetic, and the flames spell disappeared.
"Forgive me, Tari~" The mage cooed, reaching out that same hand to cup Tarene's jaw. The Altmer flinched; Telindil's palm was still quite warm. "But you know I just get so upset when you doubt me. You've known me for years, darling. Years. You more than anyone should know how capable I am." Tarene's glare faded, and after a moment, he raised his own hand to cover Telindil's.
"…you're right." He admitted quietly, looking down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Lyn." Tarene sighed and shook his head, pulling Telindil's hand down and letting it drop. "It's this place. It's making me feel…edgy." He had no other words to describe it. There was an ill aura about this shrine, and it must've been getting to him. Telindil smiled softly, as if understanding.
"Alright, Tari, then we won't stay here long." The mage decided. "Why don't we split up: you investigate this shrine, and I'll investigate the tents?" He suggested. "That way, we'll finish twice as fast, and have more time to 'set up camp'." At this, the Altmer raised his eyebrow suggestively, and Tarene's face reddened.
"N-now's hardly the time to be thinking about that." The sellsword coughed and turned away to face the shrine. "But fine…you search down there, I'll search up here." He relented. "Shout if you find anything interesting." Behind his back, Telindil smiled darkly, and turned back down the steps to the previous landing. Tarene then stood in front of the shrine for several long, silent minutes, wondering what exactly he should do.
He really didn't want to go near the thing. The longer he stared at them, the more frightening Daedric symbols appeared, and the fact that he knew nothing about this place made him very hesitant to do any tampering with it. What if the Daedra whom this shrine honored didn't like the two adventurers mucking about in their territory, and cursed them? Tarene really didn't want to go through life suffering a Daedra's curse. All the stories of such poor souls ended horribly.
But eventually, the sellsword realized that, if he just stood there, he'd have to explain his hesitance to Telindil. That would only lead to merciless laughter, feeling horrible for the rest of the day, and having to repeat it all whenever Telindil felt like it for the rest of his life. With that on the table, suddenly a Daedra's curse didn't seem so bad.
Hesitantly, Tarene approached the pillar in the center of the spiral. As soon as his foot crossed into the circle, the spiral lit up a bright, arcane blue, and with a shocked gasp, the Altmer stumbled back. The light faded as soon as he left the circle, and after a minute, Tarene hesitantly edged his way back inside. The light returned, and Tarene held his breath….but no traps went off, no magic ignited, and he didn't die.
At least, in the first few seconds.
Suddenly, Tarene felt a force pulling him forward, towards the center of the spiral. His boots skidded across the rock as he tried to backpedal, desperate for traction, but whatever magic had latched onto him did not waver. When he had been pulled nearly to the pillar, the force suddenly flipped him around and yanked him back against the stone. Tarene spat out a curse as his struggled, and found himself completely immobilized. After a few minutes of futile wiggling, the sellsword whined in frustration.
"Lyyyyyn!" Telindil hurried back up the steps, wearing a concerned expression as he looked around for his companion. But, when he laid eyes on the Altmer's predicament, the mage began to laugh. Tarene felt his face burn, and he told himself he wasn't pouting as Telindil slowly curbed his laugher, and smirked at the mercenary instead.
"Oh, dear Tari, what have you gotten yourself into?" Telindil mused rhetorically, sizing up the hapless youth before him. "Seems you're well and truly stuck." Tarene growled, his face burning with embarrassment.
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." The Altmer snapped back as he bucked his shoulders, trying with all his might to break loose, but having no luck. "Rrrrr…You can laugh at me later, Lyn. Please, just get me out of this!" Tarene pleaded. The mage's smile turned wolfish, and he hummed as he blatantly stared at the wriggling mer.
"Oh, I will." Telindil promised. "But first…" Telindil strode forward into the circle, and Tarene almost shouted out a warning. But no magic pulled the mage forward, and he stopped in front of Tarene, completely unaffected. Telindil reached up and, with one hand, grabbed the sellsword's chin, tilting his head up and back as his other hand unfastened the red cloak about his shoulders. Tarene's eyes darted around in confusion as Telindil pulled the cloak free, letting the fabric collapse to the stone below with a muffled rustle.
"Uh…Lyn, that's, that't not helping." Tarene muttered as Telindil tugged down the collar of his leather armor. it was his limbs that were stuck, not his clothing. The mage only grinned innocently, and braced his arms against Tarene's shoulders as he leaned in close.
"It's helping me, darling." He breathed into the young mer's ear. Tarene shivered involuntarily, and a different sort of heat reddened his face. He heard Telindil laugh, and he coughed when the teasing breath became a light nibble. The mage wasn't serious, was he? His partner was stuck in some arcane trap, and he wanted to get frisky?!
"Lyn, not…not now!" Tarene complained, trying to lean his head away from the mage to further his point. He didn't have too much room to move, however. "Can't you at least wait until I'm out of this thing? This is not a good time!"
"Oh, but it's a perfect time." Telindil leaned his head down and pressed a kiss into the hollow of the younger's neck. "There's no-one around, and I've got you all to myself~"
"L-lyn…" Tarene swallowed thickly, flushing to his ears when his former employer began moving up his neck. He couldn't tell if it was fear or arousal (maybe it was both) creeping down his spine, but he found it entirely inappropriate, given the situation, and wanted it to stop. "T-Telindil, really, knock it off-!" Telindil lightly scraped his teeth across his captive's throat, and Tarene made an undignified squeaking sound.
"Telindil!" Tarene strained against the magic that bound him; trying to pull away from the cold stone at his back. But neither his hands nor his feet would budge, and his efforts only served to make Telindil laugh. In fact, it seemed to encourage the mage, and he shifted his stance to worm one leg up against the pillar, and press his knee between his companion's thighs. Tarene's protests died on his lips, for a few minutes at least, and the Altmer let out a needy moan before he could catch himself.
"I'm serious! Lyn, I'm…th-this isn't fair…" Tarene whined. His employer simply laughed against his captive's throat, and pressed himself closer. For what felt like hours, the mage tormented his young companion, teasing and taunting, but never granting release. Though their glory days were years in the past, to someone as long lived as the Altmer, they were just yesterday, and Telindil hadn't forgotten a thing. Though he had, at first, been unnerved by the shrine's isolation, Tarene now thought it a blessing. Surely, his cries would have drawn curious eyes for miles around.
When Telindil finally pulled away, he left Tarene gasping for breath, and painfully frustrated. There was no denying the color to his face, now, and his braids may as well have been undone, for how much they had been pulled and yanked about. Tarene glared up at the taller Altmer through his curtain of disheveled hair, and took a breath to admonish him…but his meager anger failed, and he just blew air instead.
"There, you've had your fun." Tarene grumbled. "And now that you've got me all wound up, the least you can do is let me down from this gods forsaken pillar." Telindil laughed quietly, and held up a book that suddenly appeared his hand. Tarene frowned. He couldn't remember seeing that before, and Telindil hadn't picked anything up. Where had it come from?
"I'm afraid I've bot a bit of bad news for you, darling." The mage smiled thinly. "As it turns out, this shrine is the Sacellum of Boethiah. You know, the Daedric Prince?" Telindil reached out a hand to grab Tarene's chin, and gently tilt it upwards until the two made eye contact. "Sorry, but while there is in fact a way to get you down, you're not going to like it. You see…there's just no way to get you off that pillar alive." Tarene's blood ran cold at this statement so casually made, and swallowed thickly.
"Th-that's not funny, Lyn." The Altmer muttered and struggled again, an uneasy knot tying itself in his stomach. "Stop playing around at get me off of this thing." Telindil laughed, and shook his head, as if apologizing for his dark sense of humor. The mage reached behind his back - where the book had gone, who could guess - and pulled out a dark blade from some hidden sheath. Tarene's face paled, and he stared at the mage in horror. "L-Lyn-"
"You told me to get you down, darling," The mage's smile became predatory as he leaned in and laid the dagger's cold edge against the underside of Tarene's jaw. "And I'm going to do just that." The Altmer leaned back, pulling the blade with him, and Tarene felt a surge of panic.
"No. Nononono. Lyn. Telindil…!" He tried to beg, but the mage pressed a hand over his mouth to silence him.
"Hold still." Telindil commanded, raising the dagger over his head.
- - - - - - -
Tarene snapped awake in the dark room with a panicked gasp, and grasping at the sheets beneath him like a lifeline. His heart was racing, and a cold sweat covered his body. There was some weight slung across his waist, and in his panicked state, he thought about jumping up and flinging it off. But his memory filtered back as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, and Tarene slowly turned his head to look around.
He was lying in bed in Solitude, in The Winking Skeever, where he had been all night. Clothing was strewn all about the room, and his sword and bow were leaned up against the wardrobe across the floor. The weight across his stomach was the arm of his partner for the night, and said partner still slumbered beside him, miraculously not awakened by the young Altmer's outburst.
Slowly, Tarene turned his head to see Telindil lying beside him. The dream was already fading, and his mind had lost many of the details. Already, Tarene had forgotten what role his sometimes-lover had played in it; he only remembered that he had been there. But the fear and sense of betrayal remained, and they kept the young elf awake long into the night. When Tarene finally managed to close his eyes again, he shifted into a more comfortable position, and fell back into sleep.
Beside him, Telindil cracked one eye open, and smiled.