The sun rose and fell deep in the sky and Svidi slept, unaware of the passing hours. Thirteen of them had come and gone before her eyelids began to flutter, her body flipping left and right before this tossing became great enough to jerk her from sleep. Her flailing arms had jostled the furs off the bed, and her spine stiffened as she felt cold air rush over her sweat-drenched body.

Waking up today, like most days, felt eerily similar to the fateful one which had occurred some eight months ago, near the beginning of her journey out of Riften. She could almost feel the woman's cold eyes peering at her from a top a barren bookshelf as she fingered a menacing dagger at her hip. This phantom lingered behind Svidi's eyes as her foggy vision cleared the dreams, and Svidi realized she was alone, in her bed.

As the unsettling feeling left her, she rose and looked across the room where she had stripped herself of the signature black and red leather armor which had since been fit to her like a second set of skin, and had left her form as often as her first set has. An unusual cloud of emotions formed around her as she found herself unable to slip back into it, unsure of whether she felt comfortable displaying it in the city where people knew her quite differently. On one hand, the cat suit meant instant power and confidence; and on the other, this city had people within it who had grown fond of a more innocent and unassuming girl.

Either way, her sudden presence in Riften after a silent year away was going to present a unique set of problems in itself, so ultimately, she went with her gut. The chest of drawers across the room, which had since accumulated complex layers of dust since she'd last used them, had been emptied in her panic and she was left with only a simple dress she had worn while tending her father's forge. She felt foolish as she tied the apron around her hips, as her life had somehow twisted itself away from simplicity, and she stared at her foreign reflection.

The last time she had looked at herself in this mirror, she had appeared starkly different. Indeed, her past year was visible mostly in her eyes, which were more ice than ocean, though her body was not the soft, fatty shell she had before. Her thin, cold fingers reached for the simple ribbon she would use to tie her much shorter hair away from her face, and she looked at the long tangle of waves which now appeared out of place. Even the ribbon did nothing to return her to the life she had once known. The change ran deeper.

Balimund sat in front of a simple dinner of bread and cheese, preferring instead to spend the coin on the bottles of Black-briar Mead which lay empty in front of him. He uncorked his next with the palm of his thick, calloused hand and only acknowledged Svidi's appearance with a grunt as he drained nearly half of this bottle with a single gulp. Svidi was happy to see that the year had affected him little, and sat across from the blond Nord with a smile nearly playing on her lips.

"You're looking better." Her father mumbled, stuffing a large chunk of bread into his cheek and licking the crumbs from his fingers. In truth, he was trying his best to appear ordinary, though his thick eyebrows bunched slightly at the centered of his soot-covered forehead and easily revealed his apprehension, although only slightly.

"You're looking the same." Svidi's pleasure in this fact was apparent in her lightened voice, and Balimund was relieved that she had not only changed her attire, but her character as well. The two sat in silence, their minds both wandering back to the last time they had dined in this room, the subject unfortunately being the same one Balimund was attempting to get around to this evening. His plate forgotten, his guarded look wandered towards his daughter who sat with frustration muddled on her face, and Balimund hesitated.

"How was your trip?" He asked instead, though he was unsure whether he truly wanted the answer. His eyes lingered on Svidi as she wondered just how much to tell him, and he became increasingly aware of how difficult it had become to hold a conversation with her. Yet again he longed for his wife, because if she were around, he thought, Svidi never would have disappeared.

"Fine." She answered shortly, deciding not to include any of the details, as all of them would have led to explaining the next, and the end would have alarmed her father. "It was exactly what I needed."

"Good." He said, his eyes falling to his half eaten loaf of bread. He didn't know what to say next, but the silence was killing him. Whether by the effect of the alcohol, or the fact that he had little other to say, he dared broach upon the subject his daughter liked the least. "Look, Svidi…"

"Don't." She warned, her posture stiffening as she realized what he was about to say. If there was anything that she never wanted to hear uttered again, it was what her father was thinking, and was about to suggest. "Don't say it."

"He'd be good for you!" He roared, his eyes shooting towards her as his entire body pled with her to listen. "You need him."

"Not now, not ever!" She cried; utterly disgusted her father would even have the nerve to suggest the very thing which made her flee in the first place. The very thought repelled her, her body flung to the other side of the room by the mere idea of what he was suggesting. "He's horrible!"

"Sibbi Black-briar is the only man we know who isn't involved with that damn Guild and you're going to marry him!"

Svidi nearly laughed in his face. If it wasn't for her own involvement with the Guild, Sibbi and his mother, Maven, would have been exposed a long time ago. It could never be a valid argument against Sibbi. As a result, she was always backed into a corner, mumbling unintelligibly, when the topic was broached.

"Just stop." She said, begging him silent. "I'd marry my own brother before I'd consider Sibbi."

"Even Lynley is saying it's a good idea."

"You're joking!" Svidi couldn't believe that even her brother was blinded by the name of Black-briar. The older sibling had always possessed more sense than her, under a similarly dark nest of hair, and Svidi had a hard time believing this could be true.

"Yes, even he thinks you need a good husband. Why can't you see it?" Svidi bit her lip. The feeling inside her would be similar to the one you would get while standing on the edge of a cliff. Jumping off that cliff would clearly mean death, and the fall would be unpleasant. Walking away from that cliff is preferable, but now Lynley, a brother she greatly admires, was suggesting the jump would be good for her.

"I can't believe he's still waiting for me." She grumbled.

In the end she was just frustrated, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get closer to agreeing. One more step and she wouldn't have a choice, anymore. She would be falling.