Blackwater Islands trickster

The listener acknowledges his words by continuing to prep for her ritual. There are many bones splayed out on the alter and she picks them up with a gentle, feather light touch only to place them around the hellhound. Alduin watches her closely as she does so, allowing his eyes to roam over her thin build and stop on her two toned gaze of sun and moon. Words fall from her streamline muzzle in a quiet whisper and Alduin’s spotted auds cup towards her to listen closely as she positions the spine and rib. 

She sits neatly across from him, looking so much smaller compared to the great hellhound. There, she tells him to think of his curse — to think of Banesteppe and nothing else. He would mirror her, allowing dark lids to cover the wine red of his eyes. He focuses on Banesteppe — the feeling of him, the sound of him, the presence of him. He feels the entity come closer, cutting the distance between then forebodingly.

So you wish to seek the truth, my cursed boy? Banesteppe purrs in his ear as if he’s taunting him. You think she will show it to you?

Alduin’s brows furrow, but he tries to concentrate anyhow. Ignoring Banesteppe’s words and focusing on his presence alone.

After some time of said concentrating, his shadow startles him out of his trace like state. Her gasp is loud to his ears — cutting through the silence and sparking a certain type of concern in his breast. He fitfully allows his eyes to open and instantly he meets her own form. Her body quivers as she awakens, her limbs seemingly unable to hold her, she falls. Instantly, Alduin crowds a touch closer to her, using his muzzle in an attempt to help her up even though he’s sure her strong willed body and mind doesn’t need it.

Her eyes are hazy, distance and he only bakes away from her about a hairs length when she begins to speak. His eyes never leave hers and the bloody red orbs have an intensity to them as he takes in her voice. 

Alduin,

Her eyes become clear, but she looks at him — gaze as sharp as a knife. He backs up a touch more and stares back at her with a morbid curiosity in his own deathly stare. 

you are the cursed one, She says forebodingly. and your suffering will end as you take your final breath. you are the sentinel. the watcher of the last gate.

At these words his brows furrow. She partly confirms what he knows already. That he is cursed and his suffering will only cease when he dies — even though Banesteppe is adamant that he will continue to be his slave even in death. But she trails off, saying that he is the watcher  of the last gate. He doesn’t know what she means by this and surely a soft questioning would appear in that dark gaze. 

the beast which plagues you; he goes by many names, but none of them are his true name. he is known to me only as the king of demons. the trickster whose final trick will end the world.

His eyes slightly widen at this array of information. Vaguely he hears Banesteppe chuckle devilishly as she reveals it. He knew Banesteppe had to be some type of demon — some type of trickster, but not this, the king of demons. And more specifically the part where she says that his last trick will end the world.

So he is Banesteppe’s metaphorical gatekeeper. Is it Alduin that keeps him at bay? Or is Alduin a part of his master plan to do irreversible damage to the world? Is he a stepping stone to something worse? What is this demon king’s plan? 

There’s so many questions floating through his head and he is quite speechless. But Banesteppe steps beside him, curling an alien hand into the fur of his nape and tugging on the loose skin with a deathly grip. He bends down to Alduin’s level, a malicious smirk shows his straight teeth.

Are you satisfied now, my little hellhound? He questions teasingly. You believe she speaks of something new, but I feel like you knew where this was going for some time now, hm?

Only then he lets go of his scruff to smooth one hand over his massive head and the other over Alduin’s cheek. His touch is almost soft, but the look in his eyes is conniving. 

You will learn to obey me. You will learn to love me. You will learn to serve me. For you will be lost without me, my reaper. He purrs in a way that almost seems genuine before standing. You will see.

All while this interaction with Banesteppe happens, Alduin would be seen staring off into the distance to the listener. Unless she too can see him, his own gaze would seem focused on a specific spot — focused on Banesteppe as he speaks to him and touches him. Though when the demon stands his eyes blink as he focuses back onto the listener, brows furrowing and a scowl making its way on his face from Banesteppe’s promising words. 

Alduin is terrified of him being right. Terrified that he will eventually fall into Banesteppe’s trap and obey him without question — to a point that he will not be able to live without him. To a point that he craves his presence and conversation— craves his orders, craves to obey.

Surely the Listener could see that he is in deep thought because of her and Banesteppe’s words, but finally he speaks.

“I see.” He says grimly. “Then I am to fall to his advances? I believe it is inevitable.” He sounds pessimistic, but really he sees no alternative options. “I am to be his slave to protect others?” He questions the small, dark pelted woman. “What am I to do?”