Warning: Cringe ahead. Read on your own risk.
Feel free to skip this chapter. It doesn't affect the plot.
_____________________________________
"I can't believe you did that," Harin said, her voice a low, sharp thrum of betrayal. "You lied to me."
"Now, now…" Ibnor countered, raising his hands in a placating gesture, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. "I wouldn't say I lied, precisely. I simply… withheld certain details. There's a distinction."
"A distinction without a difference," Harin retorted, her eyes narrowing, fixing him with an accusatory stare. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"And risk irrevocably altering the timeline?" Ibnor's voice dropped, a hint of genuine concern lacing his words. "Risk erasing the very possibility of us meeting like this? The potential paradoxes were… catastrophic."
"You could have given me a hint," she insisted, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "A coded message. A cryptic riddle. Left a diary. Anything! You left me completely in the dark." Even as the rational part of her mind acknowledged the potential dangers he described, the emotional sting of his deception still burned.
"Fine," Ibnor conceded with a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I was wrong. I apologize. Truly."
"You just enjoyed watching me make a fool of myself," she muttered, turning her back to him, her shoulders rigid.
"Harin, you know that's not true," Ibnor said softly, reaching out to gently touch her arm. She flinched away from his touch as if it were a physical blow.
"Hmmph," she mumbled, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.
"Alright," Ibnor said, a trace of exasperation creeping into his voice, quickly followed by a softer tone. "Then tell me. How can I possibly make this up to you?"
"I haven't decided yet," Harin replied, her voice cool and distant, though a flicker of uncertainty betrayed her composure. "I'll let you know."
A heavy silence descended between them, thick with unspoken emotions – hurt, resentment, and a lingering undercurrent of something deeper, something that felt dangerously close to longing. After a long, drawn-out moment, Ibnor spoke, his voice dropping to a low, sincere tone, laced with a hint of vulnerability.
"Regardless… I missed you terribly."
Harin stiffened, turning her head even further away, pointedly ignoring his words, her jaw clenched.
Ibnor, sensing that his initial approach wasn't working, shifted his strategy. "Look," he began, his voice softer, more earnest.
"I know I messed up. I understand why you're angry. It's… it's justified. But please, just think about it for a moment, Harin. If I had told you everything, right from the start, everything could have changed. We might never have met. You might not even exist in this timeline, in this moment." He paused, letting his words sink in, searching her averted profile for any sign of softening.
"I did what I thought was best, however misguided, to protect you, to protect us. It wasn't about playing games or deliberately trying to make you look foolish. It was about… fear. Fear of losing you again."
He stepped closer, his voice softening to a low, intimate murmur. "Remember the cave, Harin? The flickering firelight, the way the shadows danced on the walls? The stories you told me about your other life, about bustling cities and strange customs? The songs you taught me, those haunting melodies you sang in a language I didn't understand, but felt deep in my soul? Those were some of the happiest, most peaceful moments I've ever known. I cherish those memories, Harin. They're precious to me. And they wouldn't exist if I'd done things differently."
He reached out again, this time gently cupping her hand in his. Her fingers were still cool, but this time, she didn't pull away. He could feel a subtle tremor in her hand, a sign that the icy wall she had erected around her heart was beginning to thaw.
"I know I hurt you, and for that, I am truly, deeply sorry. But please, try to understand, even just a little. I never wanted to deceive you, not truly. My only intention, however misguided, was to come back to you. You were the only constant in the chaos of time."
He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, his gaze locking with hers. He saw the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, the lingering pain, but also a glimmer of understanding.
"I missed everything about you, Harin. I missed your laughter, the way it could light up even the darkest cave. I missed your stories, the way they transported me to another world. I even missed your stubbornness, the way you would dig in your heels and refuse to back down. I missed you, Harin. More than any words could ever express."
Harin remained silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on their intertwined hands, her thumb tracing the lines on his palm. The warmth of his touch spread through her hand, slowly thawing the chill that had settled in her heart. She could see the sincerity etched on his face, the genuine regret resonating in his voice.
"It doesn't excuse what you did," she finally said, her voice softer now, the sharp edge of anger replaced by a quiet firmness. "You should have trusted me. You should have told me the truth, or at least trusted me with a part of it."
"I know," Ibnor admitted, gently squeezing her hand, his eyes filled with remorse. "And I swear to you, I will never make that mistake again."
He paused, a hopeful glint returning to his eyes, a tentative smile playing on his lips. "So… are we… alright? Or do I still have to face some elaborate form of punishment? Perhaps a week of fetching water from the highest peak?"
A flicker of a smile touched Harin's lips, a genuine smile this time, though she quickly tried to suppress it, a playful glint entering her eyes. "We'll see," she repeated, but the words held a lighter, teasing tone. "You still have a long way to go to earn back my full trust."
"I'm willing to walk that path, however long it may be," Ibnor said, his voice earnest and full of conviction. "Just tell me what you need."
Harin looked at him, a thoughtful expression dancing across her features. "First," she said, the mischievous glint in her eyes growing brighter, "you're going to tell me everything. Every single detail of your journey, from the moment you fell into that rift to the moment you landed back here. No more secrets. No more half-truths. No more omissions."
Ibnor chuckled, a genuine, heartfelt sound. "That could take quite a while."
"Then you better start talking," Harin said, finally meeting his gaze with a warm, genuine smile that chased away the last vestiges of tension. The air between them had cleared, the storm had passed, and the sun was finally breaking through the clouds. The hurt was still a faint ache, but it was now overshadowed by a renewed sense of connection, a deeper understanding, and the promise of a future they would build together, brick by painstaking brick. The journey had been long and arduous, but they were back together, finally, and that, more than anything, was what mattered.
That night, under the watchful gaze of the twin moons, Ibnor began his tale. He recounted his chaotic journey through time, the fragmented glimpses of alternate realities, the desperate attempts to return. Harin listened intently, her initial anger slowly melting away, replaced by a mixture of awe, concern, and a growing understanding of the immense burden he had carried. She was relieved, a deep, underlying sense of peace settling within her. The confusion, the betrayal she had felt, was gone. Ibnor and Loki were one and the same. The man she had trusted, the masked protector who had saved her, was the same man she had come to… care for.
He spoke of the burning Ivarstead, the horrifying discovery beneath the rubble, the months they had spent in the cave, learning about each other, forging an unbreakable bond. He described the terror of the Volkihar attack, the desperate teleportation, the agonizing uncertainty of her fate. He recounted the acquisition of his chronomancy, the failed attempts at time travel, the accidental intervention that had saved his past self. He held nothing back, laying bare his soul, his fears, his hopes.
As the night deepened, the story slowed, the words becoming softer, the silences between them growing longer. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a palpable shift in the atmosphere. Ibnor's gaze lingered on Harin, his eyes filled with a longing he could no longer contain. Harin met his gaze, her own heart pounding in her chest. The shared history, the shared trauma, the shared dependence, it all coalesced into a powerful, undeniable connection.
It began with a simple touch, Ibnor gently taking Harin's hand, his fingers interlacing with hers. Then, he pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, drawing her into a warm embrace. Harin leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. The tension that had been between them for so long finally dissipated, replaced by a profound sense of comfort and belonging.
The embrace deepened, becoming more intimate. Ibnor tilted Harin's chin up, his eyes searching hers. He saw no resistance, only a reflection of his own desire. He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss.
It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a culmination of everything they had been through. It was a kiss of reunion, of forgiveness, of understanding. It was a kiss that declared a bond that transcended time and space.
Harin, finally free of the emotional baggage that had weighed her down, let herself go. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, her own pent-up emotions finding release. It was a moment of pure connection, a merging of two souls that had been torn apart and finally reunited.
Ibnor, unable to suppress the emotions that had been building within him for so long, responded in kind. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. It was a release of the loneliness he had endured, the fear he had felt, the longing he had carried for so long.
The night deepened, drawing a velvet curtain over the mountaintop. The wind, which had howled so fiercely earlier, softened to a gentle whisper, as if respecting the intimacy of the moment. The world outside, the looming threat of Alduin, the weight of their past, all faded into insignificance as they lost themselves in each other. It was a night of profound connection, a physical and literal declaration of the bond forged through shared hardship and enduring love. It was a night of healing, the wounds of separation and deception slowly mending with each touch, each whispered word. It was a night of forgiveness, not spoken in grand pronouncements, but woven into the fabric of their intimacy, a silent understanding passing between them. It was a night of new beginnings, a promise of a future built on trust and shared experience, a future they would face together.
The initial tentative touches, the hesitant brush of fingertips against skin, the gentle clasp of hands, quickly gave way to a passionate embrace. It was a desperate clutching, a holding on for dear life, as if they feared they might disappear again if they let go. The cool night air, crisp and biting against their exposed skin, served only to heighten the heat rising between them, a tangible warmth that spread from their points of contact, igniting a fire within. There was a shared urgency, a need to bridge the gap that time and circumstance had created, but also a deep tenderness, a reverence for the intimacy they were about to share. Garments were shed with a mixture of haste and care, buttons undone with trembling fingers, fabric sliding over skin with a soft rustle that echoed in the quiet night.
Their bodies met, skin against skin, a perfect fit, as if the very fabric of the universe had conspired to bring them together. It was a reunion of two halves of a whole, coming home after a long and arduous journey. Every touch was a revelation, a rediscovery of familiar contours, the curve of a shoulder, the line of a jaw, the soft slope of a back. It was a celebration of their reunion, a tangible affirmation that they were truly together again. Ibnor traced the faint scars on Harin's arms, remnants of their shared struggles in the alternate timeline, and Harin ran her fingers through the thick strands of his hair, remembering the countless nights she had done the same in the small cave they had called home.
Kisses deepened, becoming more insistent, more demanding, each one a testament to the pent-up longing they had both endured. Soft, tentative kisses transformed into passionate embraces, lips meeting with a hunger that spoke of years of separation. There was a desperation in their kisses, a need to consume each other, to erase the memory of the time they had spent apart. Tongues danced and intertwined, a silent conversation of love and desire. Whispers of endearment, barely audible above the soft rustle of their movements and the gentle whisper of the wind, filled the air, declarations of love and devotion that had been too long unspoken.
"I missed you," Ibnor murmured against Harin's lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you forever." Harin responded with a soft moan, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer.
"I'm here," she whispered back, her voice trembling. "I'm not going anywhere."
The physical act was more than just a release of desire; it was a merging of souls, a reaffirmation of their connection on the deepest level. It was a tangible expression of the love that had sustained them through years of separation and countless trials. It was a sacred act, a communion of two souls destined to find each other across the vast expanse of time. Ibnor traced the line of Harin's spine with his fingertips, sending shivers down her back as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. He whispered her name, a soft, reverent sound that sent a tremor through her. She arched against him, her body humming with anticipation. He shifted, positioning himself above her, his gaze locking with hers. In her eyes, he saw not just desire, but a deep, unwavering love, a trust that had been forged in fire and tempered by time.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Ibnor entered her. It was a joining that felt both intimately familiar and thrillingly new, a rediscovery of a connection etched into the very fabric of their beings. Harin met his first thrust with a soft intake of breath, her body opening to him like a flower to the sun, welcoming him home after his long journey. A low moan, a blend of pure pleasure and profound relief, escaped her lips as he settled within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer, deepening the connection, urging him further.
Each movement became a whispered conversation, a language spoken not with words but with the eloquent language of touch and sensation. The rhythm of their bodies intertwined, becoming a shared heartbeat, a pulse that seemed to echo the very rhythm of the universe itself. In that shared intimacy, they found not just physical release but also solace, comfort, and a profound sense of belonging. The weight of the world, the burden of time itself, seemed to lift, replaced by a lightness of being they had not felt in years. It was as if the cosmos itself had realigned, finally setting things right, bringing them back to where they belonged: together, in this shared moment of perfect union. The world outside the small space they occupied on the mountaintop ceased to exist, replaced by the intimate universe they had created between them, a universe of touch, breath, shared sighs, and the rising tide of shared ecstasy.
As the first rays of dawn began to paint the eastern sky in delicate hues of soft pink and gold, they lay entwined, their bodies still warm from the embers of their shared passion. The remnants of the night's intimacy lingered in the air: the mingled scent of their skin, the faint imprint of their bodies pressed into the rough ground, the lingering warmth of their embrace.
Harin lay nestled against Ibnor's chest, her head resting just above his heart, listening to its steady, reassuring rhythm. A soft, contented smile curved her lips, and her fingers traced the faint scars on his chest, each a silent reminder of battles fought and survived, of the strength that lay beneath his gentle touch.
Ibnor gently stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in the dark strands, a possessive yet tender gesture. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space, a love that had endured across timelines and trials. The journey had been long and arduous, fraught with pain, uncertainty, and the sting of deception.
They had been separated by time, by circumstance, by the choices he had made. But they had found their way back to each other, drawn together by an invisible, unbreakable thread. And now, as the dawn broke over the mountaintop, bathing them in its soft, golden light, they were together, truly together, their bond not just restored but strengthened, forged anew in the fires of shared experience.
The future remains uncertain, but in that moment, nestled in each other's arms, they knew with unwavering certainty that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, their love a constant beacon in the ever-shifting currents of time.
Ibnor looked down at Harin, his eyes filled with a love that transcended time and space. He whispered, his voice barely audible above the gentle wind,
"We're finally..."
Harin met his gaze, a soft, contented smile gracing her lips. She finished his sentence, her voice filled with a quiet certainty that resonated deep within their souls.
"Where we belong."