Hello everyone! I'm just starting out in fanfiction, and I've gotten some really great reviews that have given me some great pointers on writing fanfic, so if you'd like to contribute to my skillz please do! I'll update as much as I can, so please be patient =) Now, enjoy!
The day had started well enough.
First, Lenay had woken up to find no bears had managed to steal her supplies from where they hang from the tree. Then, the Nord discovered that someone else had killed the dragon she had been going to kill. Well, that just left her day wide open.
…Which eventually led to her being dragged behind the bandit's horse as the scoundrels laughed at her. Dirt was working its way down her pants, the rope looped around her shoulders was threatening to slip upwards and choke her, and if her sword snagged on one more rock it would slide out of its sheath and get left behind. But the worst part was the fact these idiots had ambushed her. She was Dovahkiin, for crying out loud! And, to be honest, the laughter just made it worse.
"What an idiot! Couldn't see a trap if it spat in 'er face! Har har har!" the first bandit said, a lanky man with a rather scraggly beard. The other bandits replied with raucous laughter, which grated against Lenay's ears.
Apparently it also annoyed the poor, overburdened horse, because it jolted in its canter and the rope around the Nord woman's shoulders jerked upward an inch.
"Hey, do you think she's worth anything?" asked the second bandit, and the two others turned and peered at her through the descending gloom.
"What? For ransom? She ain't nothing special; we'll just throw her in the Pit with the wolves!" the first bandit crowed again, and Lenay gritted her teeth as best she could. The dirt working its way down her pants reached her boots, and then continued into the spaces between her toes.
In a few minutes, it would be dark save for the starlight, aurora, and the moonlight. But for now, her biggest worry was trying to flip onto her back as the horse continued along. Her sword could still be saved, if only she could lie on her back and attempt to catch her wrist bindings on some sharp object. Lenay swore vindictively as the bandits continued their loud musings.
The woman watched the dark sky go by, her black hair coated with dirt and mud, and then flopped like a fish. Writhing and arching her back, she managed to flip herself onto her back and send the treacherous rope sliding up the last few inches and tighten around her neck.
Now I'll die for sure, she thought to herself while attempting to scrape her hands against the ground. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon… she chanted, coughing as she tried to draw in air.
A whistle of an arrow sounded. C'mon, c'mon… Stupid, good-for-nothing bandits, they finally learned to tie a knot? Wait. Is that? The next time, the arrow struck home, and the bandit riding the horse pulling her tumbled backward. Momentarily squished before the horse broke into a wild gallop, the air was now fully driven from her lungs.
"Hey! Watch –" the call from the third bandit was cut off, and followed by a thump. Lenay could see black spots in front of her eyes, blocking out the stars, and managed to gulp a small sip of air before the galloping horse managed to kick a rock straight into her head and she lost her grip on consciousness.
Vilkas had just dragged the bandit off the horse when he heard Farkas call out.
"Hey! This one was dragging somebody! Alive, I think!" Vilkas grunted, and brought down his massive sword on the cowering bandit. Aela and Skjor had rushed over immediately, and Aela had a torch held above the victim's still form. Farkas's brow was furrowed in concern, but Vilkas sighed. Stalling, he wiped his blade off on the grass, then ripped Aela's arrows from the bodies of the other two.
Out of things to do, he turned and walked over. A Nord woman with shoulder-length hair, fine features, and a delicate scar that ran from the bottom of her left eye to the bottom of her cheek. A half-mangled rope lay beside her in a semi-circle; obviously wrist bonds, but another larger rope, knotted into a choke-holder lay like a halo above her head, and he could see why. A dark ring of bruised flesh circled her neck.
"For the love of Talos, they dragged her by the neck?" Vilkas growled, and Aela rolled her eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you and Farkas are both icebrains, captain obvious." The twins both turned to glare at her sharply as Skjor growled.
"Stop it! All of you! This woman is half dead, and us standing around bickering really is not going to help. We aren't too far from Whiterun, we should just carry her there on foot. She shouldn't be on a horse." The middle-aged man paused for a sigh, then continued, "And, by we, I mean you, Farkas. Let's go."
Lenay woke to a wonderful feeling. The feeling of clean hair. Her hands went immediately to her head, and she ran her fingers through the soft, combed locks. She moaned.
"Hey? Are you okay? Did we miss a wound up there?" a deep, masculine voice said suddenly, and her golden-brown eyes popped open. "Holy crow!" exclaimed the woman, flinching back into the bed at the sight of a face inches from hers. The face drew back, revealing a gigantic man with handsome features half-hidden behind a layer of dirt and war paint.
"Oh, no. Well, I think I did get smacked pretty hard in the head with a rock… but my hair is clean. Like, really clean. It's been months since I've been this clean! Being on the run – I mean, travelling this time of year is so slow, you don't have a chance to bathe!" rambled Lenay, and the man cracked a smile.
"I think you hit your head pretty hard. Well, anyways, I'm Farkas, and Tilma cleaned you up. You're in Jorrvaskr, Whiterun, and I think you've been asleep for about a day now." Farkas listed off on his fingers, and Lenay nodded along, then winced, bringing a hand to her neck. Gently, she prodded the tender ring of bruise.
"Damn bandits… I should have known that was a trap…" she cursed softly under her breath then looked up at Farkas. "Um. Could I have another blanket?" she asked, her voice cracking a little. Farkas smiled and patted her shoulder.
"Yeah, of course. I'll be right back, okay?" the big man was hardly out of the door before Lenay fell back into sleep, and by the time Farkas returned with a heavy woolen blanket, had curled up into a ball like a kitten.
A week later, Vilkas and Farkas were leaning over tankards in the mead hall. "I hear Aela is bringing her out for training today." Farkas commented, and his twin nodded silently. And, down the hall, Aela was leading the woman out. The tight-fitting leather armor they had found her in was once again upon her, along with the ebony sword. But there were also new additions; a quiver of sharp-looking arrows, a dagger strapped to the quiver, a second dagger strapped to her right hip, and a deadly looking bow half as large as she was.
Farkas's whistle was lost in the noise of the hall, but Vilkas smirked at him.
"You know it only matters how armed she is only if she can use everything. Want to move outside for a few laughs?" Farkas's older twin asked him, and Farkas chuckled and stood up in reply.
"Why are you following us outside?" snapped Aela as she led her charge out the double doors.
"Thy name is curiosity, Aela," grinned Vilkas, and the ginger punched him, muttering "Icebrain…" under her breath. Lenay rolled her eyes at the men and continued following Aela. The twins sat down on the porch and watched as the women halted in the center of the empty training square. The black-haired Nord woman expertly drew her bow and fired a shot into the bull's-eye of a target. Aela's cry of delight could be heard by the twins, who chuckled.
"Looks like Aela found someone who won't completely bore her," laughed Farkas good-naturedly. Lenay shot the same shot five times in a row with little difference; in one shot she split her first arrow in half. The ginger was grinning and laughing, but she waved over Vilkas, who stood with a sigh.
"What is it?" he demanded, and Aela arched an eyebrow at him. "Sorry. What is it, madam?" Vilkas amended, and successfully dodged Aela's swing.
"Anyways. As much as I would like to test her sword arm, I'm not qualified. You're the best for the job." The ginger made sad-eyes at him, and Vilkas groaned.
"Fine. But only because flattery will get you everywhere." He curtly drew his sword and turned toward Lenay. Her ebony sword was already drawn, gleaming in the sunlight, and she drew the dagger from her quiver into her left hand.
"No magic!" growled Vilkas, and Lenay gave a twinkling laugh. "No, don't worry, I can't use magic to save my life!" the two advanced towards each other, and Lenay's face grew serious.
Vilkas lunged forward and swung his massive sword at her, but she lithely swerved out of the way and whipped her ebony sword across his breast-plate. Drawing his sword back around, he let go with one hand and used to the back of his hand to knock the dagger from her left hand. It clattered across the stones as Lenay kicked at the handsome man's face and drew a hidden dagger from her boot, ignoring the one at her belt. Vilkas swung the flat of his blade around, and the woman leaned backward on one foot, far enough to minimize the wound to a tiny line across her forehead. Lenay flailed her arms, trying to regain her balance, but the Nord man gripped onto her heel and yanked her foot towards him, throwing her flat on her back.
Vilkas brought down the sword on the cobblestones where Lenay had lain a few seconds before, but now she rolled into his feet and sent him collapsing down atop her. Drawing back her knees, she slammed her feet into his rock-hard stomach and heaved him off, before leaping away from him and out of his arm-reach. As the man struggled back up, the dagger whistled through the air between his arm and chest, and he flinched in surprise, before standing and kicking the dagger away before Lenay lunged for it. Vilkas swung once again, and she spun away before dancing back and drawing her own red line across his cheek with her black blade. He snatched out at the sword with gloved hands and yanked it out of her grip, tossing it behind him.
Lenay swore loudly and yanked the dagger at her waist out, only to flip it and grab it by the blade. She clubbed the surprised man across the jaw with the hilt before she turned and used her free hand to deflect the reacting downward swing into the cobblestones. Vilkas swore as she jammed the hilt against the hand holding the sword, causing him to drop it, and then leaped up as he charged at her. She tumbled over his shoulder, getting the wind knocked from her lungs, and the man skidded to a halt. He laughed, but it sounded forced.
"I think you might have won, lassie. But was it really necessary to club me?" he rubbed his sore jaw as she gasped for breath. Farkas and Aela stood paralyzed on the porch, mouths hanging open at the fierce, quick battle.
"Yeah… There's a small chance that if I cut you with it, you'd die immediately. There are more than a few interesting stories that come with this little guy, trust me," Lenay waved the small blade around in her hand, then shoved it back into its sheath. Farkas raised his eyebrows and walked out from the porch.
"No one laugh, but I think I've heard of that blade. Mehrune's Razor, it's a daedric artifact. But it was destroyed a long time ago." Farkas's brow was furrowed.
"That's a story for another time. But I'm willing to tell you about the time I stabbed a dragon with my bow!" Lenay grinned, and Aela giggled. All four turned to walk inside as Lenay began the story.