Aneril took a reflexive inhale at the cheerful call of her name, but bit down the frustrated sigh as Litan hurried forward to walk by her side. She looked to the Bosmer merchant with mild interest, eyeing his expectant expression and the open packet of jerky in his hand. Quickly scanning the wooded hills around the paved road they traveled on, Aneril sighed quietly and indulged in the shorter elf, picking a small piece of jerky instead of voicing the reproach that had been brewing in her mind for days.

She had stumbled across Litan on the outskirts of Alinor, the merchant and his two guars held at knifepoint by dark-clothed assassins, who were quickly dispatched by Aneril. Litan then thanked his Altmer saviour gratefully, and managed to secure her protection for his journey to Skywatch in Auridon. Aneril had only agreed because she had business in Auridon as well, but started to regret her decision just two days into the escort job.

Despite his close brush with death, Litan bore little caution of one being actively hunted by assassins, and didn't hesitate to distract Aneril while she was on the job. Perhaps it was good fortune that there were no more attempts on Litan's life so far, but it was still too early to let her guard down. Stowing her private fusses into the back of her mind, Aneril finally brought the piece of jerky to her mouth, brows rising at how light and tangy it tasted. Almost as if…

She shot the Bosmer a questioning look. "It tastes…fruity."

"Aha! But it's not – just a little secret recipe of mine." Litan winked impishly at her. "This is all meat, I assure you."

"I'm sure," Aneril replied drily, turning her attention back to the road.

She was just savouring the silence in which they walked – Litan's chipper murmurs to himself and his guars notwithstanding – when a panicked scream pierced the air. Aneril spun in the direction of the scream, hand flying to the hilt of her sword as she conjured a shield on her left arm. She drew her blade when a figure sprinted through the trees, her surprise at the Dunmer's appearance quickly compounded when a herd of alits appeared behind the dark elf – and the bipedal reptiles looked positively angry.

"Help!" the Dunmer shouted, but Aneril was already in action.

Gathering a fistful of flames, Aneril threw her shield-arm out, lashing at one alit with a fiery whip. The alit fell onto its side, legs and tail flailing in pain, as Aneril sidestepped another charging reptile and drove her blade down into its skull. A far cry from trained killers – or even purposeful animals on a hunt – these enraged alits showed no sign of coordination, and were easy targets to dispose of. Nearly ten fell under Aneril's blade, whip, and breath of flames, and the battle was over as quickly as it began.

Aneril looked over Litan and the two guars he hid behind, satisfied they were unharmed. Then her gaze fell upon the Dunmer from before, watching the dark elf pull a sharp dagger from an alit's skull. A respectable number of the reptiles lay dead around her feet, and there was a cool confidence about her where sheer panic had been, just minutes before. A light frown creased Aneril's brows, her suspicion stirring as the Dunmer stepped smoothly through the alit bodies to stand before them, bowing with a hand on her chest and an apologetic look on her face.

"I am truly sorry for bringing this danger down upon you, muthsera," she said to Litan, accurately guessing who the group's leader was. "But you have my deepest gratitude for saving my life."

"Ah, no," Litan laughed, gesturing at Aneril. "She was the one who helped you. I was just…" He pointed lamely at his guars. "You know."

"Oh, I know." A lop-sided smile curved the Dunmer's lips as her red eyes rested on Aneril. "You have my thanks, mighty Altmer knight."

"What were you doing with the alits?" Aneril asked. She had dissipated her conjured shield, but kept the sword in hand…just in case. "They are usually solitary hunters, and not this aggressive unless provoked."

"That is…an embarrassing story," the Dunmer chuckled sheepishly, scratching at her head. Aneril noted the dagger still clasped casually in her hand. "I was hired by a researcher to collect alit specimens. But my plan backfired horribly, as you can tell." She heaved a sigh, and sheathed her dagger. "Now I just want to recollect myself in town. Where are you headed? May I join you?"

"Of course!" Litan declared before Aneril could voice her protest. "We're headed for Skywatch. Come, there is security in numbers." He patted at the base of the guars' tails, and the pack animals began trotting forward. Gesturing at his companions to follow, he said, "I am Litan, merchant. And you are…?"

"Vareysa," the Dunmer replied. "Free spirit."

"The best trade of them all," Litan said with a smile. "Oh yes, and this is Aneril, the warrior to whom I owe my life." He bowed his head to Aneril in mirth.

"Really?"

"Really," Litan confirmed. "Now, I've operated in Vvardenfell before, you know. And I dare say she's a match for the best Redoran warriors I've ever seen. There was this time when I…"

Just like Aneril, Vareysa didn't seem interested in Litan's tale. She held Aneril's wary gaze, with that easy smile ever on her lips. Then, with exaggerated slowness, she raked her eyes down Aneril's armoured body and up again. Unswayed by the apparent lewdness Vareysa's stare, Aneril narrowed her eyes at the Dunmer, recognising that she was being sized up as well.

Aneril returned the favour, taking in Vareysa's sleek leathers, which were trimmed and reinforced with quicksilver. They looked sturdy enough to withstand a fair amount of blows in combat, and light enough to afford a quick getaway. Her outfit, coupled with the daggers sitting at her hips, set Aneril's nerves on edge.

As if sensing her discomfort, Vareysa's lips parted in a sly grin. She ran one hand through her long, dark maroon hair nonchalantly, then turned her attention back to Litan. The Bosmer was blissfully unaware of the tension, and still chattering at great length about his adventures in Morrowind.

The journey to Skywatch seemed to stretch on much longer than it should be – Aneril couldn't relax since the Dunmer had joined them. Vareysa had acted every bit the 'free spirit' she'd purported to be, matching Litan's tales with those of her own adventures around Tamriel. But there was a cold, calculative edge in her gaze when Litan wasn't looking, and it unsettled Aneril each time she noticed it. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the tip of a sharpened blade resting on her back.

They couldn't reach Skywatch fast enough, Aneril lamented as she climbed the gentle slope of grass, scouting the open plain where they'd set up camp. Litan was probably sitting under the trees lining the road behind her, chatting endlessly with Vareysa. It was at once a source of relief and vexation to leave them behind, but the merchant had insisted that Aneril go about her nightly scouting rounds, and she was left with little choice but to do so.

Sighing sharply, Aneril set her gaze on the open waters far to the west, idly fidgeting with the straps of her steel bracer.

"Letting our guard down, are we?"

Aneril jumped, reaching for her sword when a velvety laugh filled the quiet night air. She turned around and frowned at Vareysa, who strolled slowly up the slope towards her. Clenching her jaw, Aneril decided not to entertain Vareysa with an answer – but it seemed the Dunmer would bait one out of her anyway.

Vareysa sauntered over to her and, without a break in step, plucked Aneril's shortsword from its sheath effortlessly. She stepped out of arm's range before Aneril could grab her – presumably by the throat – and ran an appraising eye over the polished blade. Her fingers slid down the sword's grip, and lingered at the eagle's crest on the crossguard.

"Interesting," Vareysa murmured, fingertips gliding over the blade. "I recognise this make. It is given to the Queensguard for their service." Twirling the sword in her hand with ease, Vareysa cast her eyes over at Aneril. "You're not one to steal. I assume you were once an agent of your beloved Queen?"

"It is none of your business," Aneril growled.

"No, it isn't." Vareysa conceded, though her tone said otherwise. She padded around Aneril in a circle, her ever-scrutinising gaze fixed on the Altmer. "Why are you a sellsword now, I wonder? Reduced to escorting Bosmer nobodies… Isn't that some form of disgrace to your people? Don't high elves always place themselves above others?" Her crimson eyes seemed to glint under the moonlight. "You're always a stickler for tradition and honour, racial supremacy and condescension, aren't you?"

Aneril's patience snapped. She snatched her shortsword from Vareysa's hands – growing more irate when she got the feeling she was only allowed to do so. "Don't you dare judge me or my people from where you stand."

"Oh?" Vareysa raised her brows, resting both hands on her hips. "And where do I stand?"

"I've been in the Queen's employ long enough to recognise a predator," she intoned. "I have seen the way you look at Litan – the way many have watched the Queen and wished harm upon her. You are a killer."

Vareysa's eyes brightened in delight, and she threw her head back in a hearty laugh. "Oh, you are just wonderful, my dear Aneril." She strode forward in long, slinking strides befitting a 'predator'. "So polite even when you're angered. But don't do me a disservice. I am not a killer – you know there is a difference." She leaned in. "Now, if you please – say it. Expose me for who I am."

"Murderer," Aneril spat, hating each step she took into the obvious trap.

"Beautiful," Vareysa laughed quietly. "There's something in the way you say that…" Her smirk didn't waver when Aneril grabbed her forearm firmly.

"You will not take another life under my watch."

"Of course I won't. I would hate to get you involved in business. For now, I am just a lone, wandering Dunmer in Auridon. Puts me in such a vulnerable position, doesn't it?"

Aneril's grip on Vareysa tightened, for she understood what the Dunmer meant. Aneril could do nothing against her, not without evidence of a murder that hadn't been committed yet. She could turn Vareysa in as a spy, but she had no doubt the dark elf would find some way to slink out of that situation.

Shoving Vareysa's arm away in distaste, Aneril warned, "I'm watching you."

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure."

It had come to pass.

Aneril's escort job had ended upon their arrival at the trade hall in Skywatch, when Litan dropped a heavy coinpurse into her hand. Vareysa had made herself scarce then, and her absence only seemed indescribably suspicious. Aneril had made very thinly-veiled suggestions that Litan might still need her protection, but the dense Bosmer waved Aneril away with a good-natured laugh. And now, he had paid the price for his carelessness.

Litan was found lying in a pool of his own blood at the inn, with his throat expertly slit open; there were no wounds on his body, no signs of a struggle in the room – it was the work of a professional. The instant Aneril caught wind of the news, she had stormed all over town in search of the Dunmer, and even scoured the wilderness around Skywatch for her. It was only when the sun had long set that Aneril finally found her – nursing a drink in a tavern, opposite the inn where Litan was murdered. The utter gall of the Dunmer, coupled with the fact that she had wasted all of Aneril's daylight, incensed the Altmer.

Aneril stalked over to the corner where the Dunmer sat, attracting the red-eyed gaze that seemed to light up at her arrival. She grabbed Vareysa's collar roughly, hauling her up from her seat. "You killed him," Aneril hissed.

"Who?"

Anger flaring in the pit of her stomach, Aneril shoved Vareysa hard against the wall and pinned her there, ignoring the warnings of the barkeep behind them. Her fingers dug harder into leathers when she realised Vareysa didn't try to resist the manhandling. In fact, she was so collected, it's as if she expected this confrontation. Or even wanted it. Vareysa's smile proved her pleasure, and Aneril had to resist the urge to break her nose right then and there.

"You know damn well who."

"Now, now." Vareysa raised her hands in an attempt to pacify her. "You don't want to start a fight here, do you? I don't know about you, but I don't much feel like being thrown into prison for causing a public disturbance."

"You belong there. You're a murderer," Aneril snarled.

"You keep saying that."

"Don't play coy with me. You know what you did."

"Well, now. That's the problem, isn't it? You keep insisting that I do, but I can't seem to recall anything for the life of me. How about this?" Vareysa purred, leaning in so they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Why don't you try to jog my memory, maybe over a few drinks?"

"You–"

"Ladies."

Aneril shot a glare back at the barkeeper, who had laid a hand on her pauldron. He kept calm under her venomous stare, obviously used to dealing with rowdy customers.

"Please do not cause trouble in this establishment, or I'll have to call the guards on you."

"Call them," Aneril said, dragging Vareysa forward. "I have the merchant's murderer here."

"What?" He looked at Vareysa incredulously, then back at Aneril. "I think you're mistaken. They've already caught the murderer."

"Excuse me?"

"They've caught the Khajiit who committed the murder. If you want more information, go to the guard office. Now please stop bothering my customer, and let her go."

Vareysa met Aneril's burning gaze with a devilish smile. "Or don't let me go. I'm quite enjoying this." She let out a chuckle when Aneril shoved her back.

Left without a choice under the barkeeper's scrutiny, Aneril made her way reluctantly to the door. But not before Vareysa caught her eye, caressing the hilt of her dagger lovingly as she winked at Aneril.

Aneril headed right to the guard office, but was unsurprised when she couldn't convince them of the murderer's true identity. How could she? All she had were accusations, and not a single shred of evidence. So she requested for a visit to the scapegoat's cell. There she listened to his vehement claims of innocence, then slipped him a few lockpicks while the guard was distracted by his colleague. The Khajiit gave her a placid smile, his eyes cold and calm – he knew what to do. And, judging by his composure, perhaps he knew all too well.

In that moment, Aneril knew she should back away before she stepped into something deeper. But that Dunmer still walked free…

So it was that Aneril found herself waiting outside the inn where Vareysa had lodged, waiting patiently for the elf to appear. The sun rose to its peak, and had begun its descent when her mark finally trudged through the inn's doors, eyes twitching shut from the sun's glare. Holding a hand up to shield her eyes, Vareysa looked forward, an all-too-familiar smile curving her lips when she spotted Aneril standing by the road with arms crossed.

Aneril noted the faint hung-over expression on Vareysa's face when she came close and murmured, "My, you're going to spoil me silly, sera. To have a tall, strong knight waiting on me… One with such pretty blonde hair too."

Slapping away the grey-skinned hand that reached up to play with her fringe, Aneril said curtly, "I will follow you from now on."

Vareysa raised a brow in surprise, her smile growing wider. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I will follow you to ensure no innocent will die under your blade again," Aneril explained, only to have the dark elf chuckle quietly.

"Other than children, my dear, there are no innocents. But as you wish." Vareysa accepted her company with perplexing ease, then seemed to ponder on something and added, "No. How about a counteroffer? I will follow you."

Aneril cocked her head curiously. "Why?"

"Does it matter?" Vareysa sighed when Aneril's brows furrowed into a frown. "I have no further obligations for the foreseeable future, and that gives me the freedom to do whatever I want. So I offer you my companionship, and my blade in times of danger. Sounds good?"

"What do you really want?"

"Nothing." The dark elf shrugged. "I just want something to do while I…figure things out. Might as well do something noble and chivalrous with you in the meantime. That's what you self-righteous knights do, don't you?"

"I'm not a knight," Aneril said, letting Vareysa's comment pass.

"Of course, I understand. Now," Vareysa said, gesturing down the road with a flourish, and a satisfied smile on her lips. "Shall we?"

Aneril stood in place, torn by a second of indecision, which she then recognised was silly. She had gotten what she wanted, even if not quite in the manner she'd expected. She nodded and took the road leading out of Skywatch, with Vareysa keeping pace beside her. Well, at least she needn't worry about getting a knife in her back, and the Dunmer was quiet–

"I've been meaning to ask," Vareysa said. "Do you get bad breath from breathing all that fire out of your mouth?"

Aneril groaned, cursing her recent choice of companions. "No. It's magic."

"Really?" Vareysa grinned. "I thought you were a dragon hiding in snobby elf form."

Wonderful, Aneril thought. Just wonderful.