"Nero. You are not the only one who wants to save Ul'dah. In that you are not alone."
Those were her own words, offered to the pirate over a moon ago.
"That remains to be seen," he had replied. "The night is darkest before the dawn, and blood will be spilled. The question remains, Miss Deneith, not whether you know to spare a life, but whether you will know when to take one. And take you shall. All of us will sacrifice. Sooner or later we are all forced to sacrifice our morals and integrity."
Nero had warned her then: "The Jewel has shaped all of us, as the waves shape the shore. What form will you take when the smoke clears and the blood dries?"
Roen regarded the smuggler with sadness as the memory of their earlier conversations flitted before her mind's eye. How true his words rang to her now. There was anguish that tugged at her thoughts, as she pondered on the loss of lives, weighed against the hope for the future. And the hope she held for the man in front of her. She still believed that she could change the course of his plans.
But lives had been lost already, and he was planning for more. Would she be able to stop it? What was her other choice? To stop him?
There was still hope for the refugees and for Nero. She could not give up on that, and the hope to spare innocent lives as well. She had made her mind up suns ago. She had to work to save them all.
"I would hear the truth every time,†she said quietly, peering up at him. "But it is always just...glimpses with you. And you show naught to hardly anyone else."
"Even those are...difficult," Nero said softly. "I've lived in nothing but a world of lies, Roen. You begin to tell so many that the word 'truth' becomes just that. It just becomes another word with which to lie." Nero frowned, and she could see conflict behind his expression. "I tried…I tried so hard to blame you. I tried so hard to think that Daegsatz' death was your fault. But the blame I held for you was only a mask, one of many. All it did was veil the blame I held for myself. The blame I still hold for myself." She saw his mask fall away then, arrogance evaporating to leave a man weighed with sorrow, guilt, and weariness.
Roen canted her head, regarding him with tenderness. “He would not want to inflict this pain upon you," she said softly. "He knew you already held so much within."
"I am…glad. For what it's worth, I am glad that you grew to know him. And I am glad that he had the chance to know you, even briefly." He met her gaze honestly. â€Despite everything, though he and I did not share words during that time…I believe he considered you a friend."
She lowered her gaze again, fighting the sadness that rose. She swallowed it down. "I am sorry, Nero. I truly am.â€
Nero seemed to hesitate briefly before taking her hands in his own. "In Crescent Cove, I promised you. I said I would try…I would try to be better. That promise is not just for you, but for Daegsatz' sake as well. But there is something I need to know."
When she looked back up at him questioningly, Nero met her gaze with his own.
"I need to know that you will stand by me. I need to know that I am not wrong to pursue this path. I need to know that…that this dream we share, of changing Ul'dah…I need to know that it is something worth believing in. I need to know that Daegsatz died…for a cause. A good cause. Even if he did not know it himself." He bowed his head slightly, as if to level his gaze with hers. "Despite our arguments, our heated barbs, our differences…you still…insist. You push. You are still trying to save me." He shook his head. "You are as foolish now as you were back then." He took a breath, then added softly, "but…it is not so bad to be a fool at times, I am beginning to find."
She glanced down at their hands, and tightened her own hold around his fingers. "I know. I am. But I still believe. I believe in this dream. And I believe in you. I believe in the hope that I know you still hold deep within." She glanced back up at him. "Daegsatz saw the same man that I see." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I cannot give up on him."
Nero pulled her ever so slightly closer. "And what man do you see? What does Nero Lazarov mean to Roen Deneith?â€
Roen brought one hand up to his face, her finger gently tracing a scar there. "I know him not. And yet...I believe that I do." Her eyes studied the scar, her fingers tracing his jawline. There was slight trepidation there. "And…as much as you push me away, I cannot leave." She gave him a sorrowful smile. "Am I foolish to think so? That I believe you are still good? That you hold hope in your heart?†She bowed her head, as a thought came to her unbidden. “And that you might…hold something else?" It was purely selfish thing, she knew, a thing she did not want to give voice. She did not want to acknowledge it even to herself except in her secreted moments. And yet...she asked. "For me?"
Nero responded with a sudden, almost forceful kiss, one that seemed equal parts passion and desperation. He held his lips to hers for what seemed like days. He exhaled when their lips parted, his hands still clasped in hers.
Roen released her own breath in a quiet gasp, inhaling as he pulled back.
"I do not know," he breathed quietly. "I do not know if I can give you what you seek. I do not know if the man you see is real. I do not know..." The smuggler then gave a small, weak smile. "But…I suppose I am willing to find out, for now."
Her hand was still tightly curled around his. “Then we will find out together.†Her lips lifted into a small but hopeful smile. “I will save you.â€
Nero blinked, something in his eyes changing at her words. He turned away from her then, though his voice remained quiet. "I do believe that your friend Melkire is a good man," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "But I do not believe he will approve of my plan. He cares about the people, but I do not believe he has a place working with us. Sooner or later, the city will force him to choose, and he will choose the status quo, or he will choose change. He is not like you. I do not believe the city's true darkness has revealed itself to him yet, even if he believes otherwise."
The smuggler’s mask seemed to return gradually as a somewhat playful if tired smirk drew itself on his face. "And I would not have him diverting your attention from me, if I can help it," he teased quietly. "I do not believe I can convince him with mere words. The city itself must make its argument to him. Either he believes it can be saved, or he will believe that reform is needed as we do."
"I will continue to speak with him. Perhaps…find a way to convince him. Or at least not stand against us." The paladin released a quiet sigh. "He does believe in the reform. But he is like me. He does not want to see bloodshed. But he also does not know you as I do." She bowed her head and nodded as if to herself. "I will speak to him."
"I feel guilty. If only I were…not so stubborn, perhaps you would not have so much work ahead of you," he said a bit jokingly. One of his hands released hers and tilted her gaze at him. "I would like to see you on the Forte, later," he murmured. "If it pleases you. There are some important matters we need to discuss."
Roen glanced back up at him and smiled softly. This was the man she had wanted to see--this was the man she wanted to save. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes.
“I just want to remember this," she whispered. "Here and now.†There was a twinge of sadness that rose, for she knew the struggles that awaited them both. But she wanted to capture this moment in her mind’s eye--to protect this single small ember of hope that lent its gentle warmth and comfort in their stillness. She could hear his heartbeat, and feel his breath upon her hair.
Nero tilted his head, his lips resting against the top of her head as he embraced her. He whispered quietly, “I cannot promise that I can be the person you desire of me, Roen. But…I will try.â€
Roen nodded, not looking up.
That would be enough, for now.
Those were her own words, offered to the pirate over a moon ago.
"That remains to be seen," he had replied. "The night is darkest before the dawn, and blood will be spilled. The question remains, Miss Deneith, not whether you know to spare a life, but whether you will know when to take one. And take you shall. All of us will sacrifice. Sooner or later we are all forced to sacrifice our morals and integrity."
Nero had warned her then: "The Jewel has shaped all of us, as the waves shape the shore. What form will you take when the smoke clears and the blood dries?"
Roen regarded the smuggler with sadness as the memory of their earlier conversations flitted before her mind's eye. How true his words rang to her now. There was anguish that tugged at her thoughts, as she pondered on the loss of lives, weighed against the hope for the future. And the hope she held for the man in front of her. She still believed that she could change the course of his plans.
But lives had been lost already, and he was planning for more. Would she be able to stop it? What was her other choice? To stop him?
There was still hope for the refugees and for Nero. She could not give up on that, and the hope to spare innocent lives as well. She had made her mind up suns ago. She had to work to save them all.
"I would hear the truth every time,†she said quietly, peering up at him. "But it is always just...glimpses with you. And you show naught to hardly anyone else."
"Even those are...difficult," Nero said softly. "I've lived in nothing but a world of lies, Roen. You begin to tell so many that the word 'truth' becomes just that. It just becomes another word with which to lie." Nero frowned, and she could see conflict behind his expression. "I tried…I tried so hard to blame you. I tried so hard to think that Daegsatz' death was your fault. But the blame I held for you was only a mask, one of many. All it did was veil the blame I held for myself. The blame I still hold for myself." She saw his mask fall away then, arrogance evaporating to leave a man weighed with sorrow, guilt, and weariness.
Roen canted her head, regarding him with tenderness. “He would not want to inflict this pain upon you," she said softly. "He knew you already held so much within."
"I am…glad. For what it's worth, I am glad that you grew to know him. And I am glad that he had the chance to know you, even briefly." He met her gaze honestly. â€Despite everything, though he and I did not share words during that time…I believe he considered you a friend."
She lowered her gaze again, fighting the sadness that rose. She swallowed it down. "I am sorry, Nero. I truly am.â€
Nero seemed to hesitate briefly before taking her hands in his own. "In Crescent Cove, I promised you. I said I would try…I would try to be better. That promise is not just for you, but for Daegsatz' sake as well. But there is something I need to know."
When she looked back up at him questioningly, Nero met her gaze with his own.
"I need to know that you will stand by me. I need to know that I am not wrong to pursue this path. I need to know that…that this dream we share, of changing Ul'dah…I need to know that it is something worth believing in. I need to know that Daegsatz died…for a cause. A good cause. Even if he did not know it himself." He bowed his head slightly, as if to level his gaze with hers. "Despite our arguments, our heated barbs, our differences…you still…insist. You push. You are still trying to save me." He shook his head. "You are as foolish now as you were back then." He took a breath, then added softly, "but…it is not so bad to be a fool at times, I am beginning to find."
She glanced down at their hands, and tightened her own hold around his fingers. "I know. I am. But I still believe. I believe in this dream. And I believe in you. I believe in the hope that I know you still hold deep within." She glanced back up at him. "Daegsatz saw the same man that I see." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I cannot give up on him."
Nero pulled her ever so slightly closer. "And what man do you see? What does Nero Lazarov mean to Roen Deneith?â€
Roen brought one hand up to his face, her finger gently tracing a scar there. "I know him not. And yet...I believe that I do." Her eyes studied the scar, her fingers tracing his jawline. There was slight trepidation there. "And…as much as you push me away, I cannot leave." She gave him a sorrowful smile. "Am I foolish to think so? That I believe you are still good? That you hold hope in your heart?†She bowed her head, as a thought came to her unbidden. “And that you might…hold something else?" It was purely selfish thing, she knew, a thing she did not want to give voice. She did not want to acknowledge it even to herself except in her secreted moments. And yet...she asked. "For me?"
Nero responded with a sudden, almost forceful kiss, one that seemed equal parts passion and desperation. He held his lips to hers for what seemed like days. He exhaled when their lips parted, his hands still clasped in hers.
Roen released her own breath in a quiet gasp, inhaling as he pulled back.
"I do not know," he breathed quietly. "I do not know if I can give you what you seek. I do not know if the man you see is real. I do not know..." The smuggler then gave a small, weak smile. "But…I suppose I am willing to find out, for now."
Her hand was still tightly curled around his. “Then we will find out together.†Her lips lifted into a small but hopeful smile. “I will save you.â€
Nero blinked, something in his eyes changing at her words. He turned away from her then, though his voice remained quiet. "I do believe that your friend Melkire is a good man," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "But I do not believe he will approve of my plan. He cares about the people, but I do not believe he has a place working with us. Sooner or later, the city will force him to choose, and he will choose the status quo, or he will choose change. He is not like you. I do not believe the city's true darkness has revealed itself to him yet, even if he believes otherwise."
The smuggler’s mask seemed to return gradually as a somewhat playful if tired smirk drew itself on his face. "And I would not have him diverting your attention from me, if I can help it," he teased quietly. "I do not believe I can convince him with mere words. The city itself must make its argument to him. Either he believes it can be saved, or he will believe that reform is needed as we do."
"I will continue to speak with him. Perhaps…find a way to convince him. Or at least not stand against us." The paladin released a quiet sigh. "He does believe in the reform. But he is like me. He does not want to see bloodshed. But he also does not know you as I do." She bowed her head and nodded as if to herself. "I will speak to him."
"I feel guilty. If only I were…not so stubborn, perhaps you would not have so much work ahead of you," he said a bit jokingly. One of his hands released hers and tilted her gaze at him. "I would like to see you on the Forte, later," he murmured. "If it pleases you. There are some important matters we need to discuss."
Roen glanced back up at him and smiled softly. This was the man she had wanted to see--this was the man she wanted to save. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes.
“I just want to remember this," she whispered. "Here and now.†There was a twinge of sadness that rose, for she knew the struggles that awaited them both. But she wanted to capture this moment in her mind’s eye--to protect this single small ember of hope that lent its gentle warmth and comfort in their stillness. She could hear his heartbeat, and feel his breath upon her hair.
Nero tilted his head, his lips resting against the top of her head as he embraced her. He whispered quietly, “I cannot promise that I can be the person you desire of me, Roen. But…I will try.â€
Roen nodded, not looking up.
That would be enough, for now.
