Stepping Into the Sunlight
Chapter 1: Travel Far and Often
Coming to Skyrim from her homeland of Cyrodiil had been a difficult choice to make, but something deep in her gut told her that it was the right thing to do. After several months of adventuring, making friends, and killing enemies, Marlena had begun to feel more at home than anywhere else. The cool winds called to her, filling her lungs and soothing her thoughts, and the sheer beauty of the landscape was enough to make her long to explore every inch of it. She'd traveled across the land from Markarth to Riften and every major city in between, her wide travels and numerous encounters introducing her to people of every race and walk of life. And then Helgen happened. Waking up on a carriage with a splitting headache and almost no memory of anything short of her own name had put quite a damper on her spirits.
After escaping the chance encounter with the dragon that attacked the city, she brooded for quite some time in Riverwood, escaping frequently into the forest so she could just think and try to retrieve as much as her memory as she could. Over time, she'd managed to remember her parents' names and faces, her brother, and most of her childhood and adventures in Skyrim- largely thanks to the happy coincidence of falling into the laps of her cousins who owned Riverwood's general store.
It looked like she was back on the right path, until the dragon attacks surrounding Riverwood compelled her to make her way to Whiterun to ask for further protection in the small village and warn them of the approaching danger. Ever since then, she'd found herself inexplicably drawn to the hold where she'd first learned of her fate as Dragonborn. Perhaps it was the lull in her duties that followed the fall of the Stormcloak Rebellion, in which she had played a significant part in as much as being the one to decapitate the Jarl of Windhelm in his own palace, or the stress of wanting to ensure the survival of the world that helped her decide that she wanted to take a break, and she knew the only place she'd like to spend it.
The first time the Imperial had visited Whiterun it had been for more or less diplomatic reasons; seeking to secure aid and inform of impending danger in the form of scaly flying creatures. And interestingly enough, on that first trip as she was nearing the city's high walls, she was met with the perturbing sight of three humans battling a giant in the middle of a poor farmer's fields. Back then she had only been in Skyrim a month or so following her ordeal in Helgen and the recovering of most of her memories, but hadn't hesitated to sprint over and try to lend a hand.
Her father's teachings in archery hadn't gone to waste, and she'd managed to send a single steel arrow spiraling through the air and into the creature's eye, effectively limiting his vision and enraging him at the same time, causing the rampart swings of his mammoth-bone club to go dreadfully awry. As she neared, Marlena was forced to swing her bow onto her back and pull a pair of steel daggers from her hip holster on the fly. The giant was already being attacked on three sides by sword-wielding humans, causing him to stumble towards his only open direction, towards Marlena, with his club raised high. Just as he was about to bring the weapon down upon her head, her instincts snapped into play and she dove into a roll between the giant's long legs, coming to rest on one knee before launching her body froward and driving her shoulder sharply into the back of the creature's knee join. She heard a frustrated groan as the creature's leg buckled and gave out underneath its own body weight, and was once again Marlena was forced to dive out of the way as the giant stumbled onto one knee and dropped its weapon in order to catch itself. With one eye completely useless and no weapon to speak of, it was an easy task for its original three opponents to finish the job.
Marlena had pulled herself to her feet by the time the giant was dead, her allies sheathing their swords as they approached. One, a woman, was the first to greet her. "You handle yourself well… You could make for a decent shield sister."
Marlena, not certain about what she was hearing, tipped her head slightly. "What's a shield sister?"
"An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions?" the woman inquired as another, younger woman and a rather tall male fell up behind her. "We're an order of warriors. Brothers and sisters in honor. And we show up to solve problems; if the coin is good enough."
Here, the young Imperial's eyes shifted between the three thoughtfully. "What did you mean before; when you said I would make a good shield sister?"
"Well, the Companions are always looking for new recruits. If you're interested, head to Jorrvaskr in Whiterun and speak to Kodlak. He has an eye for the true worth of people. If you go to him, good luck," the red-head gave a vague albeit helpful reply.
Marlena had nodded as they departed, her eyes following them as they headed toward Whiterun. After a minute of mulling it over in her mind, she had shaken her head. No… She didn't have time for becoming a Companion or what have you. Right then, her greatest concern was going to speak to the Jarl.
Speaking to Jarl Balgruuf had lead her back to the area surrounding Riverwood, then back to Whiterun, where she'd faced the second dragon she'd seen in her entire life. But in that instance, surrounded by well-trained Whiterun guards, they'd brought the beast down and slain it. As the winged creature's body burst into flames, consuming its skin and organs and turning them to ash, it seemed to glow from the fire that had once blazed within it. A heavy wind picked up and the glow spread outwards from the dragon's corpse, swirling in thin strands that began to rush towards her. The tendrils of life and energy simultaneously pushed in through her chest as they encompassed her form, cradling her yet forcing the breath from her lungs with the sheer force of the power that was entering her body.
For the few brief seconds that the energy coursed into her veins her nerves stood on end and her mind went numb. It was the dizzying sensation of being burnt alive and dunked in ice water at the same time without all the pain, and yet made her stumble in surprise. Despite the muffled sound of speech in her ears as if they'd been stuffed with cotton, there was an odd chanting that swelled in the back of her mind and encompassed her thoughts all at once. Something… clicked. Like a synapse, except she could actually feel it affecting all of her being. As the foreign sounds faded and her own hearing returned, she felt something rising from her gut. At first she thought she was going to be sick. But the pressure drew the air from her lungs and as she opened her mouth, a visible wave of energy emanated forth, knocking several nearby guards temporarily off balance. And just like that, she could breathe again, and her brain and ears were functioning normally. It was as if nothing had happened. But the exclamations of surprise that emanated from the guards as they gathered around her and the skeletal dragon were proof enough that no, she hadn't imagined it.
"I can't believe it. You're… Dragonborn," he guard that had approached her exclaimed in awe, his heavy Nordic accent and the unfamiliar title he bestowed on her leading her to believe it was some aspect of his culture.
"Dragonborn? What do you mean- what is that?" Marlena then asked, unable to help feeling further distanced from this foreign land by her lack of knowledge on this particular subject; despite all her research on Nordic life and customs before venturing from Cyrodiil, she'd never heard of such a thing.
"In the oldest tales, back from when dragons still lived in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. Just like you did, right? Absorbed the dragon's power?" It was a lot to take in, all this nonsense about dragons and stealing their souls and Dragon children or something… But, Marlena was forced to agree with his reasoning; she wasn't sure what'd happened, and the knowing way in which he had explained the situation made her almost believe him. Also, she didn't have anything on the contrary.
"… You may be right." she admitted at length, the guard nodding in agreement.
"Yes. I think I am. And you can shout, too. That can only mean one thing- you must be Dragonborn."
By that point, several more guards had taken interest in their conversation. Murmurs of 'Dragonborn', 'Dragon blood', and 'Tiber Septim' were tossed around, and Irileth, the Jarl's housecarl, soon spoke up.
"I don't need some mythical Dragonborn; just knowing you can cut down a dragon is enough for me." That was a relief. As soon as Marlena was beginning to put her trust in the housecarl's observation, a chanting could be heard by all as their small group made their way back to Whiterun, accompanied by a deafening shout that shook her to the core. It was that day that Marlena Callista, only daughter and youngest child of the noble house of Valerius, a twenty year old Imperial from Cyrodiil, learned that she was Dragonborn; Dovahkiin.
Her quest to rid the world of the ultimate evil, Alduin, had led her across the map on many occasions. And now, she was so close, but still so far. She had so much work to do, but an odd sort of melancholy had settled over her. Could she really do it; kill a seemingly immortal creature from Oblivion with her bare hands? If it wasn't bad enough to begin with, she'd had to take sides on the war, and she was beyond glad that it was over and done with. There were still scraps with rogue bands of Stormcloak supporters, but that was no longer Marlena's concern. After beheading Ulfric Stormcloak, she was able to return to her other duties.
During her journey to understand the Dov, she'd fallen in with the Thieves Guild of Riften. Early on she'd shown promise in the art of stealth and redirection, making her an excellent thief in all forms- she could just as easily talk someone out of their hard-earned coin as she could crack a lock or take a ring right off someone's finger if she so desired. Encountering a number of harrowing, stomach-clenching, and anxiety-inducing situations, and coming closer to death than she ever had before, Marlena had eventually rose to become a Nightingale and the Guild Master. Both titles, like that of Thane, were more honorary than anything as being a Nightingale had no specific duties besides protecting the Shrine of Nocturnal, and Vex, Delvin, and Brynjolf took care of managing the Guild practically by themselves. It had taken a bit of focus to transform from pure, in-your-face, beat-you-to-death with a sword battlemaster to a silent, shadow lurking thief capable of past guards without causing a scene, but Marlena had found that it came naturally to her; much like anything that required precision and focus.
But all in all, it was about maintaining her ethical balance, so to speak.
Right now, however, Marlena was focused more on taking some personal time. After an onslaught of Daedric princes, dragons, falmer, trolls, draugr, dragon priests, Centurions, and more, the Companions seemed to represent the emotional and moral balance she was seeking. The woman back on Pelagia Farm in Whiterun had told her that they were bound in honor, and that they fixed problems, helped people; for the right amount of coin. Not that she was against having a few extra Septims in her pocket, considering how many of Marlena's primary occupations seemed to lead to a steady income of gold in their own right.
For any combination of these reasons, be it a subconscious urge, the need for change, the want to escape, a refreshment of morals, or just a few more Septims, Marlena found her feet carrying her through the city of Whiterun and eventually up the front steps of Jorrvaskr.
The impressive wooden structure that'd been built to support the massive overturned ship that acted as its roof was both astounding and daunting, and once upon a time, Marlena would have been put-off about entering at all. However, Skyrim had changed her, and she felt no trepidation opening the door and stepping into the mead hall. Several persons were seated around the large table that created a mal-formed U around a large fire pit, bottles of mead and silver plates, platters, jugs and goblets scattered about the tabletop and filled to the brim with an impressive display of food.
Off to her left, two figures - a dark elf and a Nord woman- were engaged in a brawl of some kind; but judging by how many others were gathered around and cheering good-naturedly, it didn't seem to be a serious brawl. At least not one she should be particularly concerned about. Marlena made her way inward, stopping beside the lone figure who had remained seated at the table. in spite of the entertainment going on a short distance away
"I'm looking for Kodlak… Could you direct me to him?" the Imperial inquired, a flicker of recognition passing between the eyes of the two women as they met each other for the second time.
"I remember you… You were the one who happened upon the farm when that giant showed up a few months back. And you finally decided to come and see Jorrvaskr. I half expected to never see you again," the Companion admitted with a mix of amusement and surprise in her tone.
A soft smile curled on Marlena's lips as she nodded. "I could say the same about you… And I'm just thinking now that I never got your name."
"Aela the Huntress… But most everyone calls me Aela. Nice to meet you,…?"
"Marlena Valerius, and likewise." Aela smiled, nodding warmly in greeting.
"Well, Marlena… Kodlak is just down those stairs over there. Take a right and follow it all the way to the end of the hall; you can't miss him."
Nodding in thanks, Marlena headed toward the stairs Aela had indicated, missing the way the other woman's eyes followed her.
She's different than last time we met… She's so confident. Skyrim has a way of changing people, and she was strong to begin with, so I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. Who knows; she might actually be of some use.'
Marlena headed silently down the steps, passing through the door at the bottom and turning right as instructed. The hall was long and slightly foggy; it was also a bit warmer than the upper level for some unknown reason. A pair of hounds, which appeared to be a mix of dog and wolf, meandered around, coming to sniff her hand as she passed by.
It turns out that Aela wasn't lying when she said that you couldn't miss Kodlak; the white-haired Nord sat drinking from a tankard in a room at the end of the hallway just as Aela had described, and when Marlena came across the Harbinger, he was in deep conversation with a much younger man with dark hair, light eyes, and a strong stubbled jaw. The murmurings of 'the call of the blood' rang in her ears as she approached, the young man snapping his jaw shut and fixing her with an accusatory look as she entered the room. Well, certainly not the most cordial greeting she'd ever received... but also not the worst.
"Ah, a stranger comes to our hall," the elder commented as he fixed his colorless eyes upon her, the faintest of smiles on his features.
"Yes… I would like to join the Companions," Marlena said in the naturally soft, sultry tone most of her race was blessed with. If she had learned anything about Skyrim, it was that the people were very blunt. There was no reason to try to make her appearance there seem like nothing but a happy coincidence- she had a reason for showing up, and she wanted to make sure her resolve was clear.
"Would you now?" Kodlak inquired thoughtfully, meeting her eyes searchingly.
"Here, let me have a look at you."
For several moments, the Nord's fair eyes traveled from the top of her head, starting where dark brown hair sprouted from her scalp and hung in wavy tendrils to the middle of her shoulder blades with a number of small braided strands scattered through the layers before moving on to her thick-lashed almond eyes. Vibrant blue-green irises met his pale gaze momentarily as he scanned the rest of her lithe figure, noting the two solid red lines that's been drawn horizontally on the left side of her face, accenting her high cheekbones. There was a small scar that cut through the outer edge of her lightly arched brow and several small nicks that were visible on the back of her knuckles which were left bare by the Nightingale armor she'd donned, sans the hood for the special occasion.
The old warrior's gaze was quick to pick up on these details, showing her training and close calls as a fighter, which otherwise would've gone overlooked by the untrained eye. Her stature was willowy but strong, and she held herself with a peculiar kind of confidence that conveyed both restrained ferocity and an unshakable sense of calm, exemplified by the diplomatic way she'd threaded her fingers loosely over her abdomen that in a manner just as ready to shake your hand as slide a dagger in between your ribs. Imperials were notably level-headed and considerate, but her eyes burned with desire to seek out challenges and to grow, learn, and adapt.
"Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit," Kodlak said reflectively as he sunk back into his chair, apparently satisfied with what he saw.
"Master, you're not truly considering accepting her," the young man to the Harbinger's right spoke up in his strong, Nordic lilt.
"I am no one's master, Vilkas. And last time I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts," Kodlak replied, sparing the young woman a glance out of the corner of his eye.
She seemed completely unperturbed by the younger Nord's lack of faith in her capabilities. In truth, Marlena frequently used that very misconception to her advantage- for obvious reasons.
"Apologies… But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never heard of this outsider," Vilkas spoke again, not even bothering to look at her as the Harbinger crossed his arms loosely over his chest.
"Sometimes the famous come to us, sometimes men and women come to us seeking their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart." Kodlak responded, meeting Marlena's impassive gaze.
"And their arm," the younger Nord added, finally casting a distrusting glance gaze in her direction
"Of course! How are you in battle, lass?" Kodlak then inquired, Marlena inclining her chin slightly before answering.
"I can handle myself, and maybe pick up someone else's slack while I'm at it."
The elder's lip quirked softly at her tactful response, followed by a nod of the head.
"That may be so. This is Vilkas; he will test your arm. Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do." The second half of his statement was directed at the discreetly simmering Nord, who put on a good face of not caring either way.
"Aye."
Without any further words or gestures Vilkas got to his feet and brushed past her, heading upstairs and out the back door with the Imperial trailing closely behind. Vilkas apparently felt the need to check behind himself several times to see if she was still there ,due to her non-existent footfalls. However, she stuck him every step of the way, her eyes flickering around the mead hall as they passed through into the late afternoon sunlight.
"The old man said to have a look at you, so, let's do this," Vilkas stated decisively as they reached the center of a training area, lined by the stone wall of Whiterun and a few sparring dummies on one side, and archery targets at the far end for accuracy training.
"Try to hit me; don't worry, I can take it," he assured her as he uncrossed his arms and picked up a shield and sword from the training rack.
Taking that as the cue to prepare herself, Marlena unsheathed an engraved Nordic sword beneath her cape where it sat sheathed across her lower back, twirling the blade comfortably into her palm. Next she pulled the steel dagger she had at her hip, holding it in a unique upside-down grip that had the grip extending out between her first and second fingers, her palm cradling the hand guard so the blade ran parallel to her forearm. The Companion's eyes swept somewhat skeptically over her stance as she sunk into a fighting crouch.
"Whenever you're rea-" He was cut off when her body uncoiled like a spring, covering the distance between them with little effort and directing a blow at his head, bringing her sword down in a sweeping motion. It was nothing to raise his own sword in a parry, but what came next surprised him more than anything. Their blades seemed locked, though there was the sound of scraping metal as she twisted her wrist and sword. As the flat of his blade was pressing against her wrist, the flat of her own blade was pressing against the back of his hand and digging into the skin. From there, it was too simple to flick her wrist and disarm him completely as her blade began to break skin and pressure the tendons, enough so to uncoil his knuckles and pull the sword from his grasp.
Eyes narrowing, Vilkas moved to sweep his shield only to find that she was beneath his shield arm, making her impossible to hit. Just as he reached to pull his dagger from his belt, he felt the sharp tip of her dagger poking his skin through the small break in his heavy wolf armor just along the side of his ribcage.
She'd done it; not only had she touched him, but she was in a position where she could very easily put a nice-sized hole in his lung.
"Is that good enough?" Marlena inquired somewhat impassively, looking up to him with her maddeningly emotionless gaze.
"Not bad," Vilkas finally conceded, stepping away and lowering his shield as the Imperial sheathed her weapons. Perhaps that was a bit of an understatement; she'd managed to disarm and corner him in a matter of seconds without giving him any room to retaliate, but there was no reason to let her know that he had underestimated her.
And there was certainly no reason to swell her ego by informing her that her technique, although unlike anything he'd ever seen before, was flawless. She wasn't just part of the common rabble swinging a sword around; she was very skilled, and probably well trained.
"But next time won't be so easy.."
News of Vilkas heading to the yard with a new recruit had spread rapidly and several Companions had come to observe the test. Athis had sat on one of the chairs on the patio, Farkas having claimed a seat on the steps beside Ria, with Aela leaning on the support beam behind them. Almost begrudgingly, Vilkas nodded thoughtfully to the young woman.
"You just might make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood. You do what we tell you to."
He was faintly amused to have finally gotten a reaction from her, even if it was just a small quirk of the lip. Marlena was an accommodating individual, and she frequently went out of her way to help people when they needed it. However, she had never been passive, and that was almost exactly what being a whelp entitled. She didn't disrespect authority, per se, but she only followed people who she felt deserved whatever authority they claimed to have.
You had to earn your title in Marlena's eyes, which was one of the problems she frequently grappled back in Cyrodiil. She was time and time again forced to defer on her choices to people who had known nothing about her and had only their vision of her future in their minds- and she hadn't felt them worthy to be making those decisions on her behalf. It was one of the reasons why she left. But in some way, this man's comments pushed her onward instead of pushing her away. She wanted to prove herself worthy of being a Companion, even if it meant a little boot licking to get there.
"Here. Take my sword up to Eorlund and have it sharpened. And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are," Vilkas instructed, retrieving his discarded sword and handing it to her. Marlena gave the blade an appraising glance, tilting it this way and that as she inspected the metal with a knowing eye. It was strong and well crafted, but hardly anything unworldly extraordinary. Then there was the fact that it'd come from the training rack instead of from his sheath. He was just making her do busy work, and she'd be damned if she let him think she didn't know that.
"I doubt it," was her simple reply as he turned to head back into Jorrvaskr, not missing the slight tension in his body in reaction to her comment.
He continued back into the mead hall, Aela approaching their newest trainee and placing a welcoming hand on her shoulder. "I knew you'd make a decent shield sister. And you're well on your way. Vilkas usually doesn't go easy on newcomers, but he seems to like you."
"That's how he treats people he likes? I'd hate to see how he treats people he doesn't like," Marlena responded, looking to one of the other Companions as he stood.
"My brother isn't all bad… He's just a little territorial sometimes. Vilkas and I grew up here in Jorrvaskr, so it's the only home we know. He's just trying to make sure that every Companion is worthy of being able to call Jorrvaskr home, too."
A soft smile formed on Marlena's lips as she glanced to the man, who she realized now did look like a taller muscle-bound version of Vilkas.
"Thanks,…?"
"Oh, I'm Farkas," the man replied, smiling broadly.
"And this is Athis, and Ria," he added, indicating the two over his shoulder with a nod of his head.
"Your skills with a blade are impressive. Perhaps I could test your arm at some point as well," the Dunmer commented, Marlena nodding.
"I look forward to the day."
Ria had remained silent throughout the exchange, watching the woman who'd taken her spot as new blood with a slightly awed look. Feeling slight twinge of discomfort, Marlena turned her light eyes back to the huntress.
"Vilkas said to take this to Eorlund… Where can I find him?" she inquired, Aela smiling before turning the Imperial slightly by the shoulder as her free hand pointed over her shoulder toward the plume of dark smoke that curled lazily toward the sky from atop a large rocky formation at the far end of the yard.
"He's on top of Skyforge; just take the stairs on the far side... Eorlund is arguably the finest blacksmith in all of Tamriel. We're lucky to have him."
Bidding the Companions good bye, Marlena headed along the path Aela had indicated and soon met the great Eorlund Gray-Mane himself. After a brief discussion on her reason for being there, Marlena sat lightly on a low table that ran alongside the forge and watched Eorlund begin to sharpen the blade as she inquired about the Skyforge and about the Companions themselves. Despite not being a member of the Companions and claiming not to be a fan of talking too much, he sure did know a lot about the organization and about Skyforge and was willing to share; you just had to know what questions to ask. And he ended giving her one good piece of advice; don't always do what you're told. No one ran the Companions, so she really didn't have to answer to anyone. Kodlak was the Harbinger and his voice was often heard above the others of the Companions, but it was not law.
After sharpening the sword halfway and asking her to inform Vilkas that he could pick it up tomorrow, he asked her to also bring Aela her newly-completed shield so he could return to his mourning wife. As it was rather late in the day, Marlena readily agreed with her heart going out to the man as she bid him good bye and returned to the mead hall. It took a bit of searching to locate the huntress, but Marlena soon found her way to Aela's bedroom in the lower level. Upon entering, she found Aela speaking with another man she wasn't familiar with. The male appraised her as she gave Aela her shield and received a "Thanks", soon placing his hands on his hips.
"So. You're the one who was training with Vilkas in the yard. Heard you gave him quite a thrashing."
"Don't let Vilkas hear you say that," Aela advised teasingly before returning her attention to the young woman.
"Do you think you could take Vilkas in a real fight?"
Marlena regarded her a moment before inclining her chin slightly as she responded with an unexpectedly affable tone.
"At the very least, I wouldn't be the only one to leave with a few injuries."
Her response seemed to please the huntress, who gave her an approving nod. "I like your fire. You'll make a fierce Companion. Let us hunt together sometime."
"That would be nice." Marlena replied, clearly pleased by the prospect of both tracking down prey and the camaraderie the experience would bring.
"Oh! I should probably have Farkas show you where you'll be staying. Farkas!" Within seconds, the large Nord arrived in the doorway, looking somewhat expectant.
"Did you call me?" he inquired, Aela rolling her eyes slightly.
"Of course I did, icebrain. Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."
Farkas beamed slightly, nodding. "Aye. Follow me."
Marlena gave the room's occupants a nod of departure before heading off after Farkas, having to take a few jogging steps to catch up to him. Marlena wasn't stout like most Nord or Breton women, not that she was as tall as a Thalmor either, but she had long legs. And even then, Farkas easily outpaced her.
"Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they're good people. They challenge us to be our best," he explained, able to pick up on the slight offset of her full lips that was no doubt due to the almost uncalled for insult he had encountered earlier. He had kind eyes, and she could tell that he was receptive to the emotions of those around him, but she was also quite surprised to find that he was able to pick up on her thoughts so easily. Despite all the diplomatic training she'd undergone to mask her tells, her lips always betrayed her. She could control her eyes and the rest of her face almost perfectly when she needed to, but her lips almost always gave away just what she was thinking.
"But, it'll be nice having a new face around here. It gets boring sometimes," he went on to admit as they turned right and passed through a doorway that stood directly opposite the doors that lead upstairs.
"I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life," Farkas informed her, thought Marlena merely smiled. She had an idea where he was coming from.
"I'll be okay… I have some experience with difficult situations." She responded with some ambiguity, still putting off informing the Companions that she was involved with the Thieves Guild, not to mention being Dragonborn and all.
"Alright. So, here we are. I'm sure the rest of the Companions are eager to meet you. If you're looking for work, come to me or Aela when you're ready. And eventually, maybe Skjor and Vilkas will have some things for you to do. And whenever you're tired, just come down here and fall in the nearest bed," he explained, the Imperial nodding once he was finished.
"Thank you Farkas. I suppose I'll take the time now to get settled… Until next time," Marlena responded, excusing herself with a slight bob, almost a curtsy, before making her way to a bed at the far end of one of the conjoined rooms. Sitting on the soft hide, she ran her fingers through the animals fur thoughtfully before removing the narrow belt that held her sword to her back, draping the sheath over the foot of the bed before removing her gloves and boots.
Taking advantage of being alone, she changed quickly into the set of clothes that she carried in a small pack attached to the same belt that held her sheath, the outfit consisting of a pair of tight-fitting brown leather pants and her Thieves Guild boots, as well as the blouse of a rough-woven cream-colored dress. The fabric hung off her shoulders with numerous small ties bunching her sleeves up along the length of her arms, and a brown leather bodice was secured around her narrow waist by lacing that went up the front with narrow straps that tied behind her neck.
It was apparently a very common fashion in Skyrim, and although she felt bad half destroying the outfit Sigrid had given her upon her arrival in Riverwood, the fact remained that Marlena hated dresses with a passion... Perhaps due to being forced into the wretched things every day of her young life. But, she had still kept the bottom for patching material. Waste not, want not- or so they say.
After borrowing a few rolls of paper, ink, and a quill from Kodlak, she sat opposite the Harbinger and wrote a letter to her parents detailing her last month or so in Skyrim, including her newest achievement. Her second letter was to her housecarl in Windhelm, requesting he come overnight to bring her a trunk of particular weapons and pieces of armor. That was one of the beauties of being a Thane.
Although it was sunset, Marlena had gone out in search of a courier and was fortunate enough to catch one just before he passed through the gates. Knowing her letters would arrive shortly, at least in the case of the letter to Windhelm, she began a slow walk back through Whiterun, taking time to assess the damage that she'd somehow missed on her first walk-through.
There were still scars left from the Stormcloak invasion, namely a few stray arrows stuck high on the support beams of houses, black scorch marks on the stone street, and once she reached the Wind district, she noticed a portion of the lattice that ran around the outside of the circular courtyard that'd been constructed around the Gildergreen was still lying in a heap in front of a small uninhabited cottage. Apart from that, most of the city was completely repaired. Houses shone brightly with warmth, filled with happy families who were enjoying life within the walls of Whiterun. Guards walked their normal routes, looking for anything out of the ordinary, and Marlena had to stop herself from wanting to take advantage of the flaws in the selected routes. It was too easy, too natural, to pick out blind spots and heavy shadows untouched by torchlight. But, the young woman steeled herself and returned to Jorrvaskr, deciding it was time to make good on her promise to meet the other Companions; not to mention she still had to inform Vilkas that his sword would be ready the following day.
The room had grown warm with the plethora of conversation that was being exchanged between the Companions seated around the table, and the smell of warm mead was significantly more prominent than it'd been earlier that day. There was boisterous laughter echoing through the wooden structure and Marlena couldn't help but smile at the sight of the shield brothers and sisters enjoying each other's company and sharing stories of older times. She found herself a seat with empty chairs on either side and began helping herself to the food that was heaped on the nearby platters, taking a little here and there. Marlena wasn't a very picky eater, even though she wouldn't go near anything that came out of the water, and was content with the mixture of meats, vegetables, and sweets she could find. There was an unopened bottle of mead on the table, which she quickly decided was hers, and took an occasional sip as she ate. Several of the Companions meandered from seat to seat, sitting next to one person and talking to them for a while before moving somewhere else.
Marlena had been picking at her food for some time, having swung her feet up onto the table due to the unoccupied spot beside her, when Aela sat herself on Marlena's other side.
"How're you settling in, new blood?" Aela then inquired as the Imperial took another draw of her mead.
"Well enough. The Companions are quite welcoming," Marlena admitted,"Well, most of them."
She spared a glance at Vilkas, who sat along one of the shorter portions of the table beside his brother.
"Farkas was right when he said earlier that Vilkas is just being protective… He's not the most open guy, but his heart is in the right place," Aela vouched, sensing that somehow, Marlena still didn't believe her. As the evening wore on, many members of the Companions grew increasingly boastful, and with enough mead, even Vilkas seemed to loosen up a bit. Claims of things they killed and how many were tossed around, most trying to one up the other in some way. Vilkas, however, seemed to be the one to beat.
"I reckon I've killed at least one of everything in Skyrim. Maybe I'll go to Morrowind soon to find some new prey."
Naturally, his assertion was met with a round of polite laughter and clinking of flagons and bottles in agreement.
Despite the handful of bottles that surrounded her by the time a majority of the Companions had retired to their quarters, Marlena seemed completely untaken by the alcohol. Only Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas were left upstairs and for nearly half an hour, Farkas and Marlena drank down mead bottle for bottle, Aela and Vilkas having given up drinking an hour or so prior. Although Marlena wasn't slurring her speech or having trouble focusing, the fact that her expression was slightly more open seemed to suggest the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions ever so slightly. Finally, with some urging from Aela, they proceeded downstairs for bed.
The Imperial made her way towards her bed and just after sitting down came to realize she still hadn't informed Vilkas about his sword. Sighing softly, though with an uncharacteristic amount of exasperation, she pulled herself back to her feet and made her way to where she'd seen the brothers disappear to minutes ago. She was left in a hallway with two rooms, one on her right and one on her left. Marlena closed her eyes momentarily, focusing on the sounds emanating from each room. The inhabitant to her left took large, deep breaths, meaning it was probably Farkas, whereas the person to her right took equally deep but slightly shorter breaths. Opening her eyes, she rapped her knuckles quietly on the door to her right, hearing the muttered reply of 'Enter' in an unmistakably Nordic dialect.
Vilkas looked up when one of the doors to his room swung open and Marlena stood looking at him from the doorway.
"What do you want?" he inquired, doing his best not to sound unreasonably hostile. He was suspicious of her, obviously; especially due to the fact that despite her presumable inebriation, he still hadn't heard her approach. She was absolutely silent, and even as she stood there, her expression was neutral and unassuming. She opened her mouth slightly as if to say something before crossing her arms beneath her bust and leaning her shoulder against the doorframe.
"You said before that you've killed one of everything in Skyrim… Ever killed a dragon?" The question caught him slightly off guard, causing him to lean forward in his chair and place his elbows on his knees. Up until a few months ago he, like all others, assumed dragons were just a myth, or at least extinct. But after the dragon that attacked Whiterun, there was no more denying. However, he also hadn't seen the dragon, or any dragon for that matter. And by the Gods he had never killed one.
Bound by his honor, Vilkas gave her a hard look. "I have not."
She took in this information, chin inclining in an instinctive manner before she spoke."Then you have some catching up to do… Also, Eorlund said you can pick up the training sword sometime tomorrow."
With that, Marlena had straightened up and turned on heel, closing the door behind her as she made her way soundlessly back to her bed. So, that wasn't exactly how she'd planned on letting him know his sword was ready to be picked up, but, she just couldn't help herself. For some reason, this man was pulling out some of her less admirable qualities; namely her inclination to one-up people. Usually she stuck with doing so mentally, but the question had been plaguing her since his proclamation earlier in the evening. So now, falling asleep on her bed of straw and soft hides, she felt just a little better.
TBC
(Re-written 08/2015)