Chapter 2 is up!

This chapter turned out a bit bigger than I had originally anticipated. I made some changes in Riverwood (You'll see what I mean ;) and I also added some backstory for Widowmaker - of course this is my version her life story since we know very little of her regarding her pre-Talon life.

Anyway, have fun and don't hesitate to share your thoughts! :D


Ralof and Widomaker exited the cave and with brisk pace they started walking down the mountain slope; Ralof told her that his hometown, Riverwood was no longer than an hour's walk after they would get on the main road.

He was walking in the front, clearing the way off any bushes with his axe and also made sure that the ground was relative safe for stepping on since he was the only wearing boots. Widowmaker had not sensed any threats nearby so he let him do his thing and followed close by. They came to a clearing where Ralof stopped.

"Huff…" He exhaled tired.
"I really need to get this axe sharpened when I get back to camp. I even have trouble cutting down some bushes…" He turned around and smiled reassuringly at Widowmaker; he didn't want to look like a milkdrinker in front of her.

Yet she remained as expressionless as ever. In fact the moment she saw him slowing down she thought of taking the lead, but then something caught her eye. She walked over to the edge of the clearing and gazed at the majestic scenery before them.

On her left stretched the grand lake Ilinalta of Falkreath. And on her right, several tall pine trees and green lush grass decorated the slope of the snowy mountain at the opposite side. Yet even among all this natural beauty Widowmaker was void of any emotions.

"Enjoying the scenery?" said Ralof who had found his breath.
He walked next to her and for a few moments the two of them appreciated the view together in silence – one of them at least.
"You see that building at the top of the mountain, that's Bleak Falls Barrow. It used to give me nightmares when I was a kid…
Draughrs creeping inside my room and all that…hehe"

She had no idea what he was referring to, but she didn't bother asking.

"And lake Ilinalta, a beautiful place to visit during spring or go for a swim during summer …."
"I hope that war won't come to this place." he said in a low and somewhat sad voice after a brief pause.

Widowmaker remained quiet as usual, even though she could not feel any sympathy for him she understood his fear. The war with the Omnics had caused large environmental destruction on Earth and that was the reason Overwatch had assembled a brilliant team of eco-scientists to help preserve what was left. Of course that was almost a decade ago, before her eventful transformation. She later learnt from Talon's intelligence that only one of those scientists made it out alive from that expedition.

"Let' get going." Ralof said and hastily made his way down the mountain path.

They soon reached the main road and followed the water stream from lake Ilinalta. Widowmaker noticed that there were a lot of wild animals in the surrounding area – rabbits, goats, deers, elks, she even spotted a couple of foxes drinking from the river's bank at the opposite side. Plus, she had slain, not too long ago, a bear.

"So many…."

Suddenly, a memory from her childhood flashed through her mind. She remembered when she was visiting with her family one of the last remaining traditional zoos on Earth. Unlike the modern ones which mostly had holograms, that one had actual living animals. She could not recall any emotions from that day, but she knew that they must have been some strong ones if she was still able to remember it. The memory lingered for a while in her mind before it faded away.

"Wait a moment!" Ralof said before climbing on a mound – off road- where three seemingly similar large boulders stood, overseeing the lake behind them.

She didn't follow him but she observed him because she needed to find out more about this place and every little bit of knowledge may prove useful in the future. She noticed that the boulders had human figures carved on them. Ralof knelt as if he was praying and after a few moments, she could have sworn that she saw a pale beam of blue light shooting off towards the sky, but she was not really sure so she ignored it.

"Sorry for that." He apologized as he came down.
"I just wanted to pray to the Warrior's standing stone. They say that each standing stone holds some kind of magical power which it grants to people who pray to it.
Yet I am not really sure if that's true or just a myth."

An unimportant fact for Widowmaker who decided to disregard it as a mere fairytale. Little did she know that one of the thirteen standing stones would save her life one of the following days.

After about a little more than half an hour's walk, they were finally at Riverwood. Aside from a couple of wolves which attacked them and which Widowmaker dispatched in the blink of an eye - stabbing the first one through the eye and the second one through the top of his skull - the rest of the journey proceeded smoothly. Once again Ralof was amazed at how quickly she reacted to danger and with her fighting prowess.

"Here we are! Welcome to my hometown, Riverwood." He said in a jolly tone, hoping to see a reaction from her, to no avail of course.
"My sister and her husband will probably be on their mill now. Let's go see."

Widowmaker crossed the gates and walking in a slow pace behind Ralof, she carefully inspected her surroundings, memorizing the layout of the small village and observing its denizens. She saw some kids playing with a dog, a blacksmith hammering on his forge, two women conversing next to a cart with cabbages and finally her eyes met with an old woman's who was sitting on the porch of the first house after the gate; the old lady stared at Widowmaker for a while before she averted her attention to a blond man who came out of the house.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon! It flew right above my head!"

"A dragon? Come on now mother, don't start with your nonsense again. I just woke up. I was performing until late at the inn and I'm tired.
It's tough being a bard!" he said stretching his arms.

"He looks annoying…" Widowmaker thought, looking at the blond-haired man.

"Gerdur!" Ralof shouted to a woman who was chopping wood with an axe.

She turned around and as soon as she saw Ralof she dropped the axe and went to greet him.
"Mara's Mercy, its good to see you, brother!" she hugged him.
"What are you doing here? Were you on a mission nearby? Were you attacked by the Imperials?" the blonde woman asked in quick succession while simultaneously brushing away the splinters from her bleached, green dress.

"Gerdur... I'm fine. At least for now I am." Ralof reassured her sister.

"Are you hurt? What's happened?" her gaze fell on Widowmaker. "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

"Not a comrade yet...but a friend. I owe her my life, in fact. Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials..."

"Helgen? Has something happened...? You're right. Follow me.
Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something." Gerdur called –loudly - a blonde, mustached man who was unloading a wooden log on the mill's jigsaw

"What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?"

"Hod. Just come here." Gerdur said to her husband.

"By my moustache, Ralof! What are you doing here? Ah...I'll be right down!"

"Uncle Ralof!" Widowmaker heard a kid's voice and then saw a little boy with wavy blond hair running towards them. He ran to Ralof's side and started asking questions enthusiastically.
"Can I see your axe, uncle? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" He asked in rapid-fire mode.

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming."

"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with uncle Ralof!"

"Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself!" said Ralof, patting the little boy on the head.

"That's right! Don't worry uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" The boy said as he puffed his chest in pride before running away.

Hod then walked up to them and joined their conversation.
"Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in." he asked.

"I can't remember the last time I slept. Where to start? Ulfric was travelling to Bruma to meet up with some allies who were supposed to help us. I was part of his guard, but we were ambushed by the Imperials on our way to Cyrodil-Skyrim's border, a few miles away from here. I don't know how they knew about that.
That happened yesterday night. Afterwards, they tied up any survivors and took us all to Helgen to execute us. When morning came, I thought it was all over. They had us lined up for the headsman's block and ready to start chopping!"

"The cowards!" Gerdur uttered angry.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people they said!
All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then! But then...out of nowhere...a dragon attacked."

"Skyrim…? Is this how this land is called? " Widowmaker remembered hearing that name back when she was tied up on the carriage, but she hadn't given it much thought then.

"You don't mean a real, live..."

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there! As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?"

"Nobody has come up from the south road today, as far as I know."

"Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I'd hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense! You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine."
Gerdur's hand reached for her dress' pocket, she took out a key and gave it to Widowmaker who hesitantly took it.
"Here's the spare key to the house. Feel free to eat, drink and stay as much as you like and also you can take some of my clothes as well, you can't go around wearing those rags."

Widowmaker silently listened to her, waiting for the catch on the woman's offer. Life had taught her that nobody gives out so much without asking something huge in return.

"Though, I have to ask a favor to ask of you. There's something you can do for me. For all of us. We need to send word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever troops he can. Riverwood is defenseless. If you do that for me, everyone here will be in your debt.
I would ask Ralof, but since he is with the Stormcloaks, it is dangerous for him to go in the city, let alone seek an audience with the Jarl. So, can you go deliver that message for us?"

"This seems too good to be true. But still…she doesn't look like she's hiding something. Anyway, it's a favor for a favor in the end." Widowmaker nodded at her, a bit surprised with the woman's generosity.

Aside from her life-experiences in her own world, her lack of empathy was the actual reason that she could not bring herself to trust Gerdur. She was simply unable to realize that people can actually be good and act kindly without asking much in return, something that she, herself hadn't experienced for years, even before her indoctrination.

She didn't believe that people are born evil, but rather their personality was molded based on various, external stimuli as they grow. Yet having lived a life in misery among double-faced, backstabbing, hateful people her trust on humans was extremely low; and her suffering at the hands of Talon certainly worsened that effect.

"Thanks, sister. I knew I could count on you." Ralof said to Gerdur, snapping Widowmaker back to reality as she seemed lost in thoughts for a moment.

"I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..."

"Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak!"

"Okay then, I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is." said Hod.

"Hhmm… Help them drink up our mead, you mean!" Gerdur said before facing Ralof.
"I am glad you are okay, brother. I'll see you later."

Hod lead them to the house while also giving Widowmaker a tour of Riverwood, telling her about the whereabouts and its people, leaving for the end their village's latest addition, the public, hot baths. Apparently it was the idea of the general goods shop owner and his sister who had enough about bathing in the ice cold water of the stream. A view which the rest of the village did not share, since Nords are naturally resistant to cold. In the end they managed to convince the rest of the villagers and they all contributed to the building of the baths.

"There is yesterday's food in the pot and mead in the drawers. Eat and drink as much as you like. And make sure to rest, gods know how much you need it.
I am going back at the mill. We will talk more later." He turned to leave when he remembered something.
"Ooh! And today is the only day we use the baths. So if you want to clean up you can visit them at the evening." He said and left them.

"I never expected that Riverwood would have that kind of thing…" Ralof muttered.
"Anyway, let's go inside." He said, as he stepped inside his old family home.

Widowmaker followed him inside, closing the door behind her. She didn't expect much, but she could recognize that the interior had a cozy feeling in it, at least that's what her logical brain concluded from the surrounding clues.

Two beds opposite to each other - one double, one single- a fireplace with a cooking pot hanging above, a wooden table with two benches at its side and various woodenware on it, a small, single shelf with books on it and another, multi-layered one with all sorts of food on its upper shelves and several bottles lined up on the bottom, there was also a small trapdoor which possibly lead to the cellar.

"Have a seat, I'll serve us in a moment. Why don't you go change until then?
My sister's clothes are in that drawer. " Ralof said as he took off his leather armor, gloves and boots, leaving himself wearing only his blue undertunic and his pants.

"It's a good thing I can't smell I suppose…" she thought looking at Ralof's dirty boots as she headed for the drawer.
"It would be difficult to fight in a dress, but I think I can manage for now.
Let's see…rouge, bleu, blanc and…pourpre! Hmmm that should do!
" She took out a long, purple skirt with a black, leather bodice attached to it and closed the drawer.

Normally for her missions she would wear whatever they would give her and she would never pay any thought to her clothes. However, whether there was a reason about why she picked that dress and not the rest, it was unknown. Strangely enough though she remembered her favorite flower, the nightshade.

She took off her top and was halfway through the bottom part she was stopped by a noise. It was a wooden bowl which had fallen from Ralof's hands as soon as she saw her half-naked figure.
"Whoah- I thought that you would go out to—"

She ignored him and continued, she could not feel embarrassment after all and she was also used to being seen naked by strangers thanks to her regular medical examinations by Talon scientists. She removed her pants and put on the dress, she carefully tied up the laces of the bodice around the waist and the chest. Because of the fact that she was taller than Gerdur and thanks to her godlike body proportions, the dress looked more lewd than it should on her and Ralof couldn't help but notice it too; she gave off the feeling of a tavern wench. The fact that she had seen her almost nude a moment ago didn't help to change that opinion. He decided to go back to serving them food before saying something that he would regret.

Widowmaker then ripped off the footwraps which the Imperial had put on her; she saw that her feet had blisters, probably because of her walking on sharp stones all this time, but she gave them no second thought as they didn't annoy her at all. She saw a nice pair of fur boots which she was sure that they would keep her feet warm and prevent her from suffering frostbite. She could not feel the cold, but she was worried about the damage which it could do to her body if she was not careful. Her normal clothes had some insulation, so she never changed an outfit unless the mission was in a really cold place. But now she had to actually remember to warm up herself from time to time.

Finally she joined Ralof on the table and together they ate some cold rabbit stew from yesterday, bread with goat cheese and also drank a couple of bottles of nord mead. They were eating their food in awkward silence – at least for Ralof it was like that. Ralof enjoyed talking and sharing a good laugh over the fire with his comrades while they were drinking their mead and telling each other how many Imperials they had killed. Widowmaker may not have been his comrade-in-arms, but she still had saved his life and he wanted to know her a bit better. Up until now they were on the run so he thought that she was silent because of that. With that in mind, he tried to initiate a conversation with her.

"So…ehm…is the food okay?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Widowmaker lifted her head and looked at him with her usual apathetic look on her eyes.
"I suppose I should just nod at him, it's not like I can taste the food…"

Seeing her reaction, Ralof blinked surprised. "Oooh…I see, I am glad you like it…
By Ysmir how can she like that crap? She's probably just being polite, I guess. How can my sister not know how to properly make stew after all this time."

Some minutes passed. "And…are the clothes to your liking…?"

"Is that hair in the soup? Ugh…" She sneered.

"Ooh! I am sorry about that. You can probably find some better clothes to wear when you get to Whiterun…you can also try asking Lucan if he has any, he sometimes orders dresses from the Imperial City for his sister. Well actually his sisters orders them for herself, Lucan knows that Nord women don't really care for fashion or at least here in Riverwood they don't, I bet things are different in big cities like Solitude or Windhelm. That reminds me-"

"Oh mon dieu….he does not stop talking…" She sighed as Ralof kept blabbering.

"Anyway, you never told me your name. We've been through so much together—"

"We know each other for less than a day though…"

"I think it is appropriate to get to know each other. You know mine so…"

"Amelie…" she answered almost immediately.

Then a sudden blankness overcame her mind. She had no idea why she answered and most importantly why she had given him her true name – her former one at least – it simply popped into her mind when she heard his question. She thought that she had gotten over it - a decade had passed since she had last used that name. Widowmaker was her identity now, Amelie Lacroix was dead or so she thought.

"Amelie…? That's a strange name. Never heard of it before. I guess you Dark Elves have some weird names– hahah..."

"Dark elves…? " her face took a weird expression which to Ralof seemed like frowning .

"Oh no! I meant no offense to your people of course-"

"It's good that I pass as one of the races of this land…"

"- it is true that some Nords, especially back in Windhelm do not hold Dark Elves into such a high regard, calling them gray-skins and other insulting nicknames. But I have no problem with you. The only elves I hate are those damned Thalmor!"

"My skin is actually purple…"

"Yawn" Ralof stood up and stretched his arms and legs.
"I don't know about you, but I am dead tired. I will probably sleep like a log.
Hod and Gerdur won't be here until early evening. We can get a good rest until then.
I'll sleep on Frodnar's bed. You can sleep on the double."

Without saying anything Widowmaker stood up and headed for the bed. She was about to undress, but she held back. She always slept naked and that was a habit which had persisted with her even after her brainwashing. Instead she simply removed the bodice around her chest and lied down wearing only the purple dress which looked like a night gown now. She did not feel tired –she simply could not. Technically she could push herself to the limits and go without sleep for days, more than a normal human could, thanks to her significantly lower pulse rate. The only reason she slept was so that her body wouldn't collapse from exhaustion involuntarily.

Normally she would never let her guard down so easily and sleep next to a stranger in an unknown house, but that thought never occurred to her all this time. She lied down, face up and closed her eyes. Not two minutes had passed and an obnoxiously loud noise prevented her from falling asleep. It was Ralof's snoring.

"Ugh…" She closed her eyes again and tried to ignore it, but after a few moments her eyelids were wide open.
"Ç'est né pas possible!" she uttered in a louder voice than she would normally use.
"I should have asked for directions to that city, Whiterun, before he fell asleep. I could be on my way there…" with a defeated sigh Widowmaker gave up and started staring at the wooden ceiling with nothing in her mind- something unusual of her.

She always slept in a completely soundproof room back in every Talon's base she had been. Normal people would be uncomfortable staying in a room where no other sounds could be heard, but she was far from normal. So every time when she went to sleep, she would count the seconds until that moment in order to keep her mind occupied. Even with her inability to feel anything, her brain still operated in a manner as to make her forget that nothing could be heard inside that room. She did not know how much time had passed and she stopped caring at some point, she decided to close her eyes and wait…

Smash

The sound of a glass shattering made her jump off her bed fully on alert mode. She looked around and saw no one, not even Ralof. She tried to concentrate her eyes on the broken glass, but she couldn't, everything was a blur. She looked back at her bed and it was gone, instead at its place there was her old bed, back from when she was still Amelie Lacroix and she was married to Gerard Lacroix; a bigger than usual double bed carved out of red mahogany wood, it was covered in lacy sheets made of silk. She looked around the house, but that was gone as well, she was standing in her old bedroom, next to her bed. Suddenly a wind blew as the room's door opened and a woman walked inside.

"No…gah…no…stop! Stoooop!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

She opened her eyes. One moment she was sleeping soundly and the next, she was wide awake. It took her a few moments before realizing that she was not in some Talon's base. She heard fire cackling and the sound of something falling on the ground, suddenly she was on edge. She jumped off the bed, battle-ready, but before her there was only Ralof, eating some kind of sandwich.

"I'm sowwy…" He said with full mouth after a brief pause.

Widowmaker's shoulders dropped relaxed as she removed her hand from the dagger which she had in her dress' pocket and which she was about to draw.

"Gulp-gulp. Sorry, for waking you up. I accidentally dropped that bottle as I went to reach for the knife." He said after gulping down his food.

Without saying anything Widowmaker went to tie her leather bodice around her chest.

"How could I have let my guard down and fallen asleep next to a stranger…? And why am I covered in sweat? Is it because I slept so close to a fireplace? Still…it wasn't the noise which woken me up."

"By the way, Frodnar passed by earlier when you sleeping and told me that the women get the first shift at the hot baths for this week. If you wish to take a warm bath, you should go join them now, unless you like bathing in the stream like I do. I can't stand hot baths at all!" Ralof said and then drank a sip from his bottle.

"Is it evening already? That means that I slept throughout the day – how?
Was I so tired?
"

Widowmaker slept rarely and even when she did, she required minimum amount of sleep, three to four hours were to enough to keep her going for at least two days straight. There are few people in the world who need less sleep than the rest. Amelie Lacroix was not one of them, but thanks to the tons of the chemicals which she had been injected with and the extensive neural reconditioning which her brain suffered, now her body was able to recover in less than four hours sleep. Yet now, for some reason she had slept throughout the entire day which she confirmed herself seeing as the sun had set when she stepped outside the house. That incident also made her forget about her waking-up state.

Silently agreeing with Ralof suggestion she headed for the hot baths. As she walked along the village, she saw various other people which she hadn't seen in the morning. They were heading for the inn. She didn't turn to look at them, but she noticed the lecherous stares which she was receiving from some of them. She then saw the blond man from the morning coming towards her.

"Hi, I'm a bard by trade. Name's Sven, perhaps you've heard of me. You should come see me at the inn later." He said and left.

"I was right. He is annoying." A smirk formed on her lips without her realizing.

Widowmaker arrived at the baths' hut which was located just next to Gerdur's mill in order to have easy access to firewood in case the fire went off. The moment she got there she was greeted with loud exclamations and shouting.

"So you came! Good, good. Hope you had a good rest in our home." Widowmaker nodded silently at Gerdur.
"We were just about to go in."

"Who is this woman, Gerdur?" asked a woman with auburn hair.

"She….she is a friend of the family, Sigrid. She arrived this morning and we let her sleep in our house." Gerdur said, glancing meaningfully at Widowmaker whose expression remained unchanged.

"I wonder why she did not mention him. Is it because of that cause he's fighting for?"

"A traveler! I'm sure you have plenty of stories to share with us." said a woman with long dark hair. She was close to Widowmaker's age, possibly a bit younger.

"Ma! I wanna enter the bath!" said the youngest member to the woman with auburn hair.

"I think that the fire is just right. We can go in." Gerdur said.

"Finally! My bones are killing me!" shouted the old woman who bolted inside. Widowmaker recognized her from the gate in the morning.

They rest followed the old woman with hustle. Widowmaker entered last and was met with a white, cloud of steam in the face. She had to admit that it was an impressive construction, considering their tools. The whole hut had been built with sturdy, wooden logs, in order to trap the heat and was suspended above ground on stone columns; below the hut, a huge, oval-shaped oven had been installed and was connected with the hut with a wide pipe which acted as the heat medium from the marble tub which had been filled with water from the stream.

However the experience was bad for Widowmaker or as she would characterize it annoying. If there were two or even three people, she might not had an issue, but there were 6 of them in the tub; and as she later came to know there was one more who didn't come, the innkeeper Delphine. Also to everyone's surprise Widowmaker was the only one among them who was bathing completely naked in contrast with the rest who kept on their underwear. Apparently the term bathing had other meaning for them since they spent all the time, sitting inside the hot water without scrubbing themselves.

"So much needless human contact…. " she shook her head annoyed.

"Mommy what are those drawings on her arm?" asked the little girl, pointing at Widowmaker's arm tattoos.

"I told you not to point at people, Dorthe. It's bad manners." Her mother scolded her.

"Actually I was a bit curious as well. That one on your back looks kinda scary. Is it a spider? And why can't water wash them away? Are they magical?" the young black haired woman said.

"No you too, Camilla." Sigrid said frustrated; she then turned to face Widowmaker. "They won't stop until they have their answers. They are both very persistent."

Widowmaker looked back and forth between Camillla and Dorthe who were awaiting her reply with anticipation and she knew that the only way to get rid of those two annoyances was to say something.
"Ugh…yes, it's magic. They do…magical things - what am I even saying - and yes, that's a spider." She said in an awkward tone.

"Hahahah….your voice is funny!" the little girl said laughing.

"Dorthe!" Her mother raised her voice.

"Funny? What is that brat saying?"

"She means your accent." Camilla popped up. "Are you from High Rock by any chance? Some Bretons I've met back in the Imperial City talked somehow like that."

Widowmaker looked back at Camilla with a blank look on her face. She didn't know how to respond to any of this and she certainly didn't expect to hear that her voice is funny by a kid; plus all those names High Rock, Bretons etc. meant nothing to her. However as she stared at the women in the bath acting all rowdy and shouting at each other for stupid reasons she suddenly remembered a similar experience which she had; a hot spa hotel, a group of young ballet dancers and lots of French wine.

"I think we stayed long enough, we should- huh? Are you okay? Your eyes looks kinda…wet. Did the steam make your eyes teary?" Gerdur suddenly asked Widowmaker.

She blinked twice and then after a brief pause turned to face Gerdur. When she realized what Gerdur had just said, Widowmaker quickly rubbed her eyes with her elbows and then stood up and grabbed her clothes. She put on her boots and the purple dress in a hurry and without tying up her bodice she left the wooden hut, leaving them behind dumbfounded.

"Was it something we said?" Camilla asked.

"Really Camilla? You made her cry because of your nosiness." Gerdur said.

"How was it my fault? I just asked her a question." Camilla objected.

"Nords never ask a stranger all these personal questions when they first meet him. They just sit and-" Sigrid said.

"Well, sorry I am not a Nord then…" Camilla retorted.

"Sigh- Let's just drop this here. Tomorrow you two will go apologize to her." Gerdur said and Sigrid nodded.

"Fine…" they both said in unison, accepting defeat.

"Good girls. Now, one of you wake up Hilde who is about to drown again and let's get out of here." Sigrid said and after dressing up they headed to the inn.

But that apology did not happen, not the following day at least.