A/N: I was lucky enough to get my dearest friend in the world for secret santa this year! This story is for you, bestie!

Lyla Mahariel is a fully developed warden belonging to NattyWright. Head to her page to read all about this fiery elf in the tale, "From the Dales to Denerim".

I have been given permission to write this incredible character.

Lyla squinted against the dim lighting of the Winking Skeever as she read her sister's letter over again. It was rare Merrill asked the bounty hunter for anything, Lyla was sure to read every word carefully.

Dear Lyla,

I hope this letter finds you in haste as something terrible has happened and I've nowhere else to turn. The nature of the situation is too sensitive to put into writing. Will you come see me at the college?

Please hurry lethallan; a girl's life is at stake due to my foolishness, time is of the essence.

Dareth shiral, sister.

-M

Lyla finished off her drink before refolding the letter and tucking it away. She threw down a few septims on the table before rising quickly from her seat and setting off for the College of Winterhold. If her sister was in trouble, Lyla would not dally. Family came first.

OoOoO

The lithe, hot-headed elf stopped at the Frozen Hearth Tavern just outside the college to get a drink before meeting her sister. She had traveled non-stop from Solitude for days and had quickly burned through her water and small food supply.

She wasted no time inhaling the first two mugs of the refreshing liquid, then continued to obnoxiously gulp down a third, and then a fourth.

Lyla felt eyes on her as she continued her water binge until finally she couldn't take it anymore and spun around, fury in her eyes. It was everything she could do to hold back from releasing the tempest right then and there in the tavern full of patrons.

"What do you want, shem!?" the elf spat angrily.

The woman sitting down the bar from Lyla just smiled warmly; once chocolates met emeralds, the stranger stood from her chair and moved closer, taking the empty barstool beside Lyla.

She smelled of the finest soaps and shampoos few could afford in Skyrim. Although pleasing to the eye, Lyla couldn't help but think this woman just looked like the worst type of shem, judging the raven-haired beauty by her fancy noble dress of blues and golds and jeweled slippers, she seemed to be of royal descendent.

Lyla watched the stranger's elegant caramel fingers disappear beneath yet another frill in her dress before revealing a folded piece of paper. Those same nimble fingers carefully unfolded the small square and slid the parchment before the hunter.

The elf picked up what appeared to be a hand drawn portrait of a young woman who seemed close to Lyla's age. The drawing was beautiful to be sure, its subject even more so, flawless even. Soft eyes matched with happy lips, the girl appeared lively and passionate; yet, Lyla caught something in those orbs staring back at her, a sadness, as if they were hiding a tragic secret from the world.

"My name is Josephine Montilyet. You are a bounty hunter, no?" Josephine's gaze flickered between Lyla's weapons and eyepatch; she continued when the elf didn't answer. "I am looking for my bard and will pay handsomely if you find her for me. I have several estates around Skyrim; I would also offer you one of your choosing for her safe return."

Lyla quirked a brow at the noble, figures this shem would flaunt her wealth right off the bat. "What gives you the right to approach me, shem? Think an elf has nothing better to do than hunt down one of your lost pets!?"

Heat rushed to the elf's cheeks; she had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Of course this bloody shem thought she could just throw coin at a poor lowly elf, dangle an estate over Lyla's eyes, and the hunter would just hop to the task like an obedient lap dog.

"Get away from me, seth'lin. Before I do something we all regret."

Lyla didn't miss the sorrow to cross Josephine's features, but she didn't care. Taking one last gulp of her drink, Lyla tossed a coin at the barkeep and stormed out of the tavern.

The night air bit hard as Lyla stepped into the harsh winter of the town. The slender elf hated the cold, how Merrill could stand to live there year around was beyond her.

Lyla pulled her coat tighter as she hurried toward the college. A woman in college robes stood in the center of the bridge entrance blocking her path. Lyla grunted as she grew more frustrated; she didn't have time for this, and the harsh chill was making her irritable.

"Halt, the college is closed to the public due to recent events we cannot disclose at this time."

Gritting her teeth, Lyla unsheathed her short-axe before shouting, "Step aside before I run you through with my hungry blade."

The mage visibly gulped but stood her ground. The brunette's hands blazed to life with swirling balls of flame, readying for a fight. Lyla took a step forward before she felt a soft, firm hand clasp down on her shoulder, halting her pursuit.

"She's with me, Ferelda. Let her through." came Josephine's smooth aristocratic tone.

The mage called Ferelda snuffed out the flames emanating from her fingertips before stepping aside for the elf to pass. Lyla glared at Josephine angrily. "I didn't need your help, shem."

Josephine sighed before pushing the same folded piece of paper from earlier into the elf's hands. "Forgive me, but I'm worried. Please, her name is Leliana. She was last seen performing at the inn here. I think she may had gone to the college afterward. She isn't just my bard—" Lyla saw sadness cross the shem's features once more as the noble's words stuck in her throat; a disheartened, broken look formed, like that of a kicked puppy. "She is… my friend. Friendship between servants and nobility as you know is not allowed. But there is no one like Leliana; she's special. All I ask is if you see her, please keep her safe."

Slowly, Lyla tucked the paper away into a pocket before sheathing her axe and nodding a firm nod toward Josephine. A weak smile was returned before Josephine retreated back toward town. Lyla watched until the frilly bobbing dress disappeared from view. Unable to stop herself, the elf reached for the parchment and gazed at the miraculous drawing once more.

Her heart did a flip as those mesmerizing orbs pierced her soul once more, they resonated with her on another level that Lyla could not fathom. The artist had captured this woman's spirit, both animated and broken. She continued to rake her eyes over the gorgeous face, memorizing every centimeter, every line, every feature, noting how the bard's short chin length hair fell in perfect lines with a single strand falling carelessly over a smooth, perfectly fashioned brow.

The portrait was done in charcoal; Lyla wondered the colour of the mystery woman's eyes and hair, she wondered if the bard's cheeks were rosy or pure as milk. She could easily stare at the sketch for hours, lose herself in its beauty, but there was another task at hand, Merrill came first. Lyla decided at the very least she would keep an eye out for the bard.

Folding the paper quickly and tucking it away again, Lyla continued on to the college. Little did she know, her life would soon change forever.

Lethallan - Close friend (practically family)

Dareth shiral - Farewell (literal: safe journey)

Shem - Elvish term for humans

Seth'lin - Thin blood (insult)