#the adventure of laloriaran catching up with social cues and the times

[littlegalerion]

I said there would probably be more content on here, but then all content went elsewhere. So here, have some Laloriaran and Trechire build up, I guess. 

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“Ah! Young Galerion!”

Trechire tensed upon Valorone’s tone. He was desperate, a very unbecoming thing for a Fighter’s Guild representative. Before her, he and Darien both looked heated and exhausted. Trechire’s chest stung looking upon Darien. The last time she’d seen him so on edge, it had been within the Crystal Tower. Fate had already claimed him then, and sadly Trechire knew that speaking up to him now would only corrupt time itself. She’d seen first hand what comes from that during her fight within the White-Gold Tower, caught between realities. No matter how hard she wanted to say something, she had to bite her tongue. It made the upcoming matter even more frustrating, as she naturally felt inclined to favor Darien due to the pity.

“This knight wants us to forsake our comrades outside this city!” Valorone cried, storming up to Trechire. “Look at this place! Look how many of us are missing!”

“I’m aware,” Trechire mumbled, and went to break some good news, but Darien cut her off. 

“Ol’ Trey knows that it’s useless to go out and retrieve our friends if we don’t have a safe base to return to!” he insisted, giving Trechire a look. 

“You want us to hide behind these walls?” Valorone pressed. “To leave our comrades to die while you sip wine and lounge about? You have no honor, knight!"

“Don't lecture me about honor, Elf! You have no idea what I've seen or what I've gone through!" Darien snapped back. 

“Enough!” Trechire barked, forcing herself not to bare her teeth. Her fangs were one pointless argument away from springing out for joyrun. “We will all go through much worse if we can not keep our heads! Arguing won’t bring back our allies, especially when both sides are of equal value!” She collected herself. “We do need to make sure this city is safe. Call me crazy, but I do not trust the Groundskeeper…” She resisted looking to Darien, memories ripping through her. “But do not forget, my father is among those missing… I know how critical it is for us to retrieve those lost.”

“So what do we do?” Darien demanded.  

“If you two had let me speak first, I would have already told you I brought back a new ally! One who can help!” Trechire lectured them. “He and Darien can remain here to secure this city. If you really wish to go charging through Coldharbour to help our allies, then by all means Valorone, you’re welcome to come with me.”

“Yes, Galerion!” Valorone agreed instantly. 

“You listen to her just like that?” Darien grumbled. “She’s Mage’s Guild, not Fighter’s Guild.”

“You hardly are one of us either,” Valorone reminded him bitterly. “I would trust my life in the hands of Caafire Galerion’s daughter!”

“Right,” Darien huffed. “So who did you bring?”

“The Last Ayleid King,” Trechire blurted. 

Both men stared back her, expressions blank. 

Before she could explain, King Laloriaran Dynar entered the hall behind her. He wasted no time whatsoever.

“Attend me, soldiers! We have a war to win and time grows short,” he announced, coming to stand beside Trechire. 

Trechire felt her heart skip, blinking up at him. He hardly looked phased by what had transpired only less than an hour ago. His eyes sparkled with magical purpose and keen wit. Yes, this was definitely what they needed to get through this nightmare of a war!

“So that's the last Ayleid, huh?” Darien smirked, crossing his arms. “I thought he'd be more… dusty. Isn't that what happens when Elves get really, really old?”

“Shut up!” Trechire and Valorone snapped at the same time, making Darien jump a little in surprise. 

“Who's in charge of this group? Step forward and address me,” King Dynar insisted. 

“Their guild leader is gone,” Trechire informed him. “Their numbers are thin.” She gave a cautious glance at them, then back at him. “And quarreling within themselves.”

“Then allow me to rectify that,” King Dynar decided. “I shall lead you. We shall recover your comrades and complete your mission. If that does not work for you, your services are no longer needed.”

“I don't know who you are, but you aren't Fighters Guild. You have no authority over us!" Valorone cried, disgusted by the implication. 

“Do you challenge me, then? Do you want me to kill you to prove my combat prowess to your companions?" King Dynar took a step towards him, eyes narrowing as he held the altmer warrior’s gaze. 

Trechire stepped between them. “No, but by all means, try to kill me.” Every instinct and lesson she’d been trained and drilled to adhere to among her packs were eating her alive. The King was lucky they were in public, and not somewhere no one could witness an accident. “I didn’t save you just for you to come here and terrify the Fighter’s Guild. Seizing power like this- I was under the impression you were a noble and wise strategist! These people are scared, torn from one another in Molag Bal’s realm! They don’t need a pacifier but they don’t need another source of despair!”

“How can you expect us to lay down our lives for someone we never met?” Valorone put in, coming in to boost Trechire’s side. “Trust is earned on the battlefield!”

King Dynar caught himself, shutting his mouth as he looked between Trechire and Valorone, then to Darien and around the guildhall. “If you want to survive, if you want to win this, you must trust me. Allow me to explain why you need my leadership.” When Trechire’s expression didn’t change, he added, “We shall work this out. I understand your reservations. But with my leadership, the Fighters Guild will help us win this war.”

“Do not disappoint me,” Trechire told him, and felt her face go red when her voice cracked. She gave Valorone a mumbled farewell and good luck, and then hurried towards the door back into the city. She heard King Dynar address the hall, but didn’t catch what he was saying. As she went to slam the door shut behind her, a hand caught her wrist, as well as patiently shut the door instead.

“I do not expect this group to blindly trust me. That would be foolish.” King Dynar released her wrist, having her alone on the doorstep to the guildhall. “I plan to instill them with confidence so that when the others arrive they will follow me without question.”

“That’s your plan?” Trechire snorted. 

"For now. I shall speak with each soldier here. Tell them what I think we should do and how we should do it. Perhaps listen to their opinions,” he explained to her. “To rush into battle with no allegiance is to command a unit that is already defeated."

“I understand that,” Trechire told him, keeping herself together. The King had her to himself right now, and he was so close… But of course this wouldn’t have been the first time Trechire had been blinded by a pretty face and ignored the obvious red flags. “But these are not soldiers- these are guild members. They have no loyalty to any kingdom or alliance, but to their own code of honor. It’s all that has kept them together when left leaderless.” She pointed up at him, trying to get him to understand. “You could kill Molag Bal himself and they wouldn’t see you as their leader, if you held no respect for their code. Understood?”

“Yes,” King Dynar assured her. “I apologize… I didn’t mean to come off as ruthless. The situation is dire, and our chances are already so thin.” He offered a smile, and for once it could be seen the wear and tear he was feeling. 

“Then tell them that,” Trechire replied, motioning to back within the guildhall. “We have allies that need to be recovered, and I can cover ground while you still get the guild organized.”

“Continue to amass our forces until we have enough troops. Then we meet in council and plan our attack,” he agreed. “The Chasm to the north protects Molag Bal's inner sanctum. We must cross it and confront the Prince if we hope to save Nirn.” 

Trechire gave a nod, already feeling her shoulders buckle from the weight. She gave a bow, as it felt right for some reason, and then went to leave back into the city. Again her wrist was grabbed, but gently. King Dynar stopped her, holding up her hand and kissing the back of it. 

“I will not disappoint you,” he told her, releasing her after the kiss. “You freed me from centuries of torment. I’ll never forget that, Lady Galerion.” 

Trechire brought her hand back, knowing her face was probably the same shade as Red Mounatin’s core right now. “You had better not, your Majesty.” This time Trechire kept her arms about her securely, and hurried back to the giant main doors that lead from the Fighter Guild’s little outskirt into the city. She yipped as fire exploded from the ground, and a shadowy figure burst forth. A black panther leaped out in front of her, fire burning around its paws and eyes as it looked to its mistress expectantly. 

“Yes, thank you Eon,” Trechire coughed, too embarrassed to look over her shoulder to see if King Dynar had still been outside to have seen her cry out like a pup. She jumped onto Eon’s saddle and the daedric mount rammed its head into the main doors, spilling into the city like the raging wildfire it was, taking Trechire as far away as possible and back to the problems at hand.