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Skyrim, Vilkas, and all that good stuff belongs to Bethesda.
She slid an arrow from her quiver, and took a deep breath. She would end his suffering...
The arrow took the torturer in the back of the neck, throwing him to the floor, dead.
...one way or another.
The two guards near the door shot to their feet. The one near the fire whirled to face where the projectile had come from. Fae loosed another arrow. Even with less time to aim, it took the man in the chest, in the area of his heart. The last two were running her way now, gleaming swords drawn. She shot one in the leg (not quite where she meant to) and he toppled over, right into the fire pit. Flailing, the burning man lurched toward the opposite hallway, screaming. She soon lost sight of him. She felt a brief stab of guilt, usually she like to give cleaner deaths than that. The final guard was bearing down on her. Fae threw her weight back, pulling up her bow and shot - straight up into the guards face. He fell forward onto her. His weight pressed her to the ground for a moment. With a grimace, Fae pushed the body away and rose to her feet. A woman in armor rushed in from the opposite doorway. Fae shot her, then froze, waiting for more guards to come bursting in. The room was silent. She waited a few minutes more, then stepped toward the room. Her eyes went to the bound man and she hesitated. If he was a werewolf, and he had lost himself to the curse... She swung her bow onto her shoulder and drew the hunting knife at her hip. She, at least, would give him a clean death.
The man raised his head slightly, just enough that she could see steel colored eyes watching her from behind his black hair. Even chained and half dead, there was something intimidating about those pale eyes. Fae swallowed hard, gripping her knife and stepped closer. She coudl have sworn he growled lowly at her when she did. The man had lost to the curse after all, she realized, her heart sinking a little. She stepped in front of him, raising her knife.
"Going to kill me, then?" he asked, his voice rough, as though he had nothing to drink for day.
"Is this a trick?" she asked before she could stop herself.
The man glared at her. Even hanging from the silver chains he was taller than her. She could only imagine how tall he would be standing to his full height. "I mean, y-you're still -"
"Sane?" he growled.
Fae bit her lip. She'd already half freed this man, she had to go on. She tucked her dagger away and turned to rifle through the clothes of the dead torturer.
"Damn." She cast around the room for a moment, before going to the shelves and searching through them. ON one shelf, almost too high for her to reach, was a small box. Inside was what she was looking for: a single silver key. She returned to the man and then frowned, eyeing the hook in his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" the man snarled.
She met his eyes. "Saving you."
"I don't need saving." His voice was a low growl.
"Okay then," Fae frowned. "Tell me again how well you were doing on your own." He just glared at her. Fae cocked her head to one side with a little smile, before turning her attention to the hook again.
"Just pull it out," he growled.
Fae hesitated a moment, eyeing how far the hook was sunk into his skin. but she couldn't get him down without removing it. "Okay," she muttered softly, slipping the key into her pocket so she could wrap both hands around the weapon. The man gritted his teeth. Taking that as a sign he was ready, Fae pulled, turning it so the curve of the hook would come free. He growled. For a moment, it seemed like the hook was stuck, but it came free suddenly, making her stumble back. The wound was bleeding more freely. The young woman scrambled to find a healing potion, but she had non on her, and all the guards carried were potions to cure disease. Frustrated, she snatched a roll of linen bandages from one of the nearby shelves and pressed it tightly to the wound. He let out a pained snarl, glaring at her. up close, she could see that his ice colored eyes were rimmed with smudged black warpaint. She forced herself not to shy away from his intimidating glare. With one hand, she held the bandages. With the other she fumbled with the locks on the shackle. She unlocked the first and then carefully unlocked the second.
Free from the chains, the man slid down to the floor. Fae cursed and tried to support him, but the Nord outweighed her by quite a bit and she only ended up being dragged to the floor with him. The awkward position made her lean heavily on him. The man grunted quietly. Fae leaned back, and eyed him closely. she sill held the bandages to his injured shoulder, and couldn't help but notice how broad those shoulders were. after a moment, he placed one large hand over the bandages - and her smaller hand - holding the linen there on his own. Fae pulled back, at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. They couldn't stay there. Fae had no idea how many guards were left in the place. not to mention the death everywhere. but it was cold outside. Even a hardy Nord man would not last long dressed like the man next to her was. If she couldn't find him something warm to wear, she wasn't sure what she would do. She looked back at the man. he looked exhausted, though he tried to hide it.
"My name is Fae," she said softly.
He watched her silently for a long moment. "Vilkas," he said finally. His voice still sounded raw and hoarse.
"Stay here, I'm going to find something to help us," she said and stood. Maybe she could find something down the other hallway. She headed toward it.
"Us?" he glared up at her. She got the feeling that he didn't like taking orders.
She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "You don't expect me to just leave you now, do you?"
He frowned and turned his dark glare to the floor.
Fae figured that was the best she was going to get, and set off, making a list of the things she would need. New bandages, clothes, an extra bedroll if she could find a clean one. And a healing potion would be a gods-send right then. She'd even take some of the medical salves she had seen other adventurers use. After a while, she came across a small room filled with several beds and dressers. Grinning in triumph, she looked through the things, pulling out a pair of boots, a rough tunic, and a large cloak made from bear pelts. There were a few waterskins on one of the dressers, so she took those too. She grabbed two more rough linen tunics and sat down on the floor, using her hunting knife to cut them into long strips. She started to stand when something under one of the beds caught her attention. She pulled it out. It was a small jar of medical ointment. She grinned at her luck and hurried back to where she had left Vilkas.
He was sitting against the wall with his chin on his chest. Fae felt a jolt of alarm. She berated herself for leaving him along for so long. She rushed over to his side, fearing the worst. Vilkas raised his head a little when she dropped to her knees next to him. She gave a sigh of relief and thrust one of the waterskins at him. He took it and drank deeply from it. Fae debated for a moment about his wounds but decided that getting out was more important right then. He didn't stop drinking until the skin was dry. When he finally put it down, she held the boots, tunic and cloak out to him. He just shook his head.
"I need to find my weapon and armor," he said. His voice was better now, deeper and lilting with a fairly thick accent. It was a nice voice, she decided. She pushed the thought away and frowned at him.
"I'm not going to waste time looking for your stuff. You're very injured. We need to get out of here and get help. I don't know how to heal, and I couldn't find any potions. Besides, in your state, I don't know if you could carry any armor," Fae frowned.
The Nord frowned at her and shoved himself upright, using the wall at his back for support.
"That wasn't a challenge!" Fae snapped. This stubborn fool was going to kill himself right in front of her. He looked unsteady for a moment, and Fae shot to her feet, placing her hands on his chest to steady him. Now that he was on his feet, she realized just how large the man was. Her eyes were level with the wound on the inside of his shoulder., and he was certainly much broader than she was. She looked up into his ice colored eyes and stamped down any feelings of intimidation. "Look, armor and weapons can be remade. Your life can't be replaced so easily," she said more calmly.
Vilkas frowned at her for a while longer, then growled. "Fine," and reached for the clothing she had brought him. She handed him the shirt. He pulled it on over his head and then reached out to take the cloak. Fae watched him sit down heavily and pull the boots on. he was pale, out of breath. The stubborn Nord only rested for a moment, though, before hauling himself up.
"Let's go," he growled.
Fae hesitated for a moment, but she wouldn't be able to stop him anyway, so she just nodded and led the way back to the entrance. He made no sounds behind her, but she saw him reach out to steady himself against the walls a few times.
"Where are you from?" she asked after a while. She wasn't trying to make idle conversation, just trying to figure out where they needed to go once they were outside.
Vilkas hesitated for a moment. "Whiterun." He didn't sound to excited to return there. She nodded and continued on.
They rested for a while in the foyer, letting Vilkas gain a little strenght back. Fae gave him the second waterskin, leaving her personal one in her back. She was sure they would need it later. The man drank a little from it, then nodded at her to show he was ready. Together, they set out.