Midna sat by the roaring campfire, in a circle with a few other service men on break. They eyed her carefully as she dove into supper; decimating a bowl of white navy beans and sausage, with a roll of bread. She ate ravenously, forgetting her manners as if she never had them.
"So… what did you say you were, again, uh..."
"Midna." She said, chewing the buttery roll. "I'm a Twili."
"So you're not a Daedra."
"No. Who made this? This is amazing." Midna said, lifting her plate in her hands to show off her prize. "I could kiss them."
The Nords went stony quiet – none willing to take the risk. Her fangs and ravenous hunger, not to mention her overly wide smile, were definitely off putting.
"Cheers to the Ghost that can cook, then!" She said, cheery to have something with seasoning. Soon enough, she'll be eating nothing but venison and whatever they could scrounge up.
Bastrii returned, her arm freshly bandaged – carrying a few small vials in her hands.
"I see you found food. Happy?" Bastrii asked.
"Very!" She said, feasting on the sausage. "I like these beans! They're much better than the green ones from Ordon."
Bastrii thought about it for a moment, her eyes knitting. "Green Beans? Like, Runner Beans?"
"Yes, those are horrible! They taste like dirt, and spite for anything tasty. Those and peas. Why can't they be more like these white ones." She picked up a white bean, showing it off before chomping down on the soft morsel.
"Aye, Bastrii. I saved you a bowl." Ralof said, approaching from the nearby cook's tent. "Before your friend could eat it."
Midna laughed. "He may be joking, but if you leave me alone with that, it's gone."
Bastrii took the bowl into her hands, nodding her thanks to her friend. She joined Midna by the fire, Ralof sitting across from her.
"You seem in much better spirits, Midna." Ralof started, as she polished off her bread.
"You have no idea how hungry I was. I felt like I haven't had anything in a week!" She scooped up the last spoonful of the navy beans, finishing her plate. She dropped it on the floor lazily, leaning back. Her arms supporting her chest while her head fell back across her shoulders.
"Well, unless if Rolf was force feeding you, you've probably been starving the whole time. A few good meals will really put your body back in order." Bastrii said, enjoying a bite of the hearty, earthy military soup.
"Explain it to me later when I care." Midna replied, warming her feet by the fire. "I don't suppose you have any more leather laying around here? I'd love some boots, too. Maybe some nice gloves.
Bastrii sighed, tiredly at that. Ignoring Midna's selfish behavior as she worked on feeding herself.
The soldiers around the campfire steadily found their voices, the several idlers talking between themselves. Occasionally, they would ask Bastrii a question, or seek her opinion on trivial matters – some very immature opinions, too. But for the most part, they kept to their own.
"We should leave tonight." Midna said, picking at her fang. "We don't have time to waste here."
"That would be a bad idea. Traveling at night in Skyrim, especially recently, wouldn't end well. The roads are worn and treacherous, the wolves roam freely. Trolls leave their cave in search of easy meals." Ralof said to the Imp, redoing a braid to his golden hair. "Only those with ill intentions streak at night."
"All the more reason to move quickly!" Midna said, standing up. "But I see your point. Bastrii would complain the whole time. It's not worth it."
The Bosmer in question glared at Midna as she stretched.
"Where's the beds?"
Bastrii spoke up first. "I left my pack over by that tent, as Arlof suggested. We're bunking in a former soldier's quarters, so try not to browse his belongings."
"No promises." Midna said, floating up and away, out of the growing light of the campfire as the sun slid down the horizon; the fading light hiding behind the sparse trees around the clearing.
"How do you put up with that creature for so long?" One of the Soldiers asked. He had retrieved a knife, using it to whittle away at a spare log. "If it were up to me, I'd banish her back to whatever hell she came from."
Bastrii frowned, ignoring that last part. "I've got her this far. I've come all this way. If I give up now, it would have all been for nothing."
"And how much farther are you willing to bring her?" He continued.
"That remains to be seen." She said simply, finishing her meal. "But if this keeps up, High Hrothgar is the limit."
A few of the soldiers – including the wood working man – looked at her in shock.
"You're going to ascend the Seven Thousand Steps? In late winter?" One asked, a shorter Nord with a thin beard. He looked young.
"I've got no other choice. I have to answer the call of the Graybeards."
A few gasped, as one soldier handed another a small bag of glittering coins. The smaller Nord spoke up. "So you are the Dragonborn. I knew it. You match the description, except for your ears. Much too short from the hearsay."
Bastrii fondled her ear, her mood turning defensive. "They're not that big, are they?"
"They are fine, my friend." Ralof said with a soft chuckle. "Maybe a little on the long side, but fine."
The conversation between the group of men picked up again, as Bastrii kept to herself. She stared at the fire, a tidal wave of emotions pouring through her body.
Outsider was the one word that really came to mind. Though surrounded by gentle mirth, she felt isolated and alone. Who knew that one little comment could hold so much weight?
"At least they didn't call me knife-ear. Or cannibal."
Deciding there's not much left for her at the fire, she stood up and made her way to the two-person tent. The rugged fur pelts that made up the shell were already covered in a fine layer of powdery snow – showing the growing presence of its chilly burden. When she came by earlier, it was barren except for a small trunk – filled with a dozen or so trinkets and baubles, and several hand written letters the former soldier had left behind.
The trunk was untouched, thankfully. Midna had already splayed out her bedroll to the left side of the tent, avoiding the pile of soft hay. Bastrii sighed. At least she left her the good spot this time. Desperate for real shut eye, she turned to her pack.
Where was her bedroll?
Checking the inside, she couldn't find it. She shuffled her bag to the side, wondering if Midna has just slid it underneath by mistake.
Just to be sure, she checked the darkened tent one more time. It was already laid out on the pile of hay.
For some reason, this drew a small smile from her. Maybe Midna wasn't such a horrible creature after all.
She quickly curled up under the warm fur of her bed, and let her mind wander into the open arms of her waiting dreams.
And dream she did – of many things. Terrifying dragons and sweeping mountains – of the holds she's seen and their castle tops. But most of all, she dreamed of home. Of Valenwood, and the little pod she grew up in. And she dreamed of Midna eating all of the meat she had.
"But why the meat?" She would ask, and the Imp would only laugh in reply.
And then she dreamed of a sandy blond hair Bosmer, getting hit by a massive rock – sending him flying for miles. It seemed intentional, like it was the fastest way to travel. But why wasn't he wearing a shirt, or pants?
A swift kick in the stomach knocked her out of her dreams, the small Imp standing over her.
"Wake up. It's almost morning. Ralof left something for you." She said sternly, dropping a heavy hauberk of chain mail across her unprotected chest. She sucked in wind from the sudden weight, rolling it off to the side as Midna floated towards the stables.
Leaning forward, Bastrii looked at the gear laid out for her.
A mail chain body, a bit heavy – but much more protective than the simple leather plates she wore across her torso. It came down past her waist, and was shorter than the large tunic-like sets the men wore. With it came a familiar gambeson, tailored to fit her better than the army standard. He even included a matching set of gloves and boots!
Looking over the new armor, it seemed… off. The gears in her head turned and clicked, as she realized Ralof had changed the blue shoulder tabard with a green one. A note nearby explained it all.
"Bastrii," it began, "Thank you for staying with us for the night. It was great to see you again, even if it wasn't under the best circumstances. The blacksmith didn't know your sizing, so it may be a bit tight – but we decided to give you something to help protect that arm a little better. Any more arrow holes and you'll need a new one! We thought it best to change out the colors for you, to not draw in any more wandering eyes. The last thing you need is another Imperial ambush, huh?
"I also saddled your Elk. He didn't like it. He's in the stables. Midna should be happy with her gift, too. Just make sure she doesn't lose them, alright? We had to stitch her gloves and boots by hand, since she's so small."
Bastrii chuckled. Of course she was going to lose them. She didn't care. She packed up her bedroll, changed gear, and headed out.
Walking to the stable, Midna was already tugging at the antler of Braehoof, who seemingly didn't want to leave. He gave a whining bugle, forcing the small Imp away until Bastrii approached.
"Easy boy, easy." She said, gently running her hand over his head. His protesting stopped, as he leaned in close against the comfort of her embrace. "Just a few more days, and I'll let you go, okay Braehoof?"
The Elk looked up to her with intelligent eyes, before nodding solemnly.
"I still don't understand why you pretend you can talk to animals. He's a stupid deer. Do you really think he cares if you let him go tomorrow or in two years from now?"
The 'deer' in question glared at the Imp, before turning his head sharply and just barely missing her with his large Antlers.
"Hey! You miserable piece of-"
"Midna, please don't antagonize him. He's willingly helping us, this isn't forced." Bastrii said, using her arms to push the two apart. "The last thing I want is for my friend and some horrible creature fighting each other."
"And which one is the creature?" Midna scowled. Bastrii didn't like that look. It was the same look her Mother gave her Father when he said something really, really stupid.
"Oh, would you look at that! It's time to pack up and leave." She said, chirping as the Elk left his stall. He locked eyes with the Imp, as if saying 'this isn't over'.
Bastrii smiled gleefully when she noticed the two large saddlebags by his hind end. She quickly took out her pack, happy to find that it could just barely fit in the empty satchel with ease – minus the bedrolls, of course. She strapped those across the end of the saddle.
Checking the other bag, she was happy to find it packed with several odds and ends, including the new clothing for Midna. She took it out, holding them up to look at them in the light, before handing the items out to her.
"What's this?" She said, eyeing the tiny gloves and warm boots. She picked the leather gauntlets up, turning them over to look at them. "Where did you find these?"
"Ralof had them made for you." Bastrii smiled, watching her slip them on. The Imp did the same with her boots, a flash of a smile on her face before it quickly returned to her usual serious look.
"It fits."
Bastrii waited.
"…They're pretty warm."
"And?"
Midna sighed, rolling her eyes. "I guess I owe him my thanks." She said finally, drawing a smile from the Bosmer.
"Oh, and there's one more thing in here, it looks like – for you, Midna." She said, pulling out a delicately wrapped bowl. She gave it to the Imp, who unwrapped it greedily.
"Yes!" She shouted, the navy beans and sausage still fresh.
"Quiet! You'll wake the whole camp." Bastrii chortled, as Midna began to dig in. She finished exploring her new saddlebags, finding a new quiver of arrows and a large, tightly wrapped canteen. In the bottom of the pack was a single, red bottle. A healing potion, just in case, along with the other potions the healer had parted with her the night before.
Climbing on top of the Elk, Bastrii gently patted his side. He began forward at a slow trot, following the path out of the thin forest and down the trail once more. Invigorated, she looked to the sunrise – the very tip of the far star breaking the distant, east most peak. Midna joined her, sitting on the side of the more roomy saddle.
With a click of its hooves, the Elk began to trail down the path and back onto the roads, keeping High Hrothgar to the west.
Bastrii withdrew her map as Braehoof led the way. "I don't suppose you've been past the this section of the mountain, huh, Brae?"
The elk shook its head, as if a flea had latched on at the wrong spot. She idly scratched him behind the ear. "Worth a shot."
The sun began to rise clear into the sky, the warm embrace of it soaking into her armor. It was cool, but not too chilly – the snow from the night prior having blown on to whiter hills. This side of the mountain had a more beautiful forest to the right; yellow aspen across the distant lake glimmered hopefully in the morning dawn, drawing in a pleasant sigh from the Bosmer.
"The forests here are strange, but so warm and inviting. I would love to build a home here, if only to enjoy the colors." Bastrii said, to no one in particular. Midna took it as idle conversation, and carried on as such.
"I wouldn't want to live here. Too much light for my tastes. Maybe if it was a bit darker, like on a cloudy day, then perhaps." Midna followed up. "But I'd much rather be home. Out of the cold, and back in my warm, massive, nearly room sized bed. Waited on hand and foot."
Midna sighed at the memory. "With my parents still alive, of course."
"You sound like royalty at home."
"Well, maybe I am? What are you going to do, hold me hostage? I'm a bit too far off from any heralds to find a ransom."
Bastrii chuckled. "They'd have to pay me to keep you."
"And what does that mean?"
"Oh look, a butterfly!" She changed the subject, as Midna fumed. It was so easy to get under her skin.
"Yeah, whatever. Dragonbird."
The clopping of the cloven hooves on the stony path continued, Bastrii checking the sky for any signs of fire. In the distance to her south, she could see a single large plume of smoke – a camp, or maybe a home. To her far north, towards Ivarstead, were several smaller wisps of hearths.
"We should be at Ivarstead at twilight." Bastrii said, patting on Braehoof's side to go towards the rising ashy clouds.
Midna looked on silently. "Twilight..." She whispered, before turning back to face the road behind them. Her eyes looked on down the winding path, thinking quietly to herself. A small creak trickled as they passed, and she closed her eyes.
Beneath his feet were leagues of dark, murky water. He stared into the depths of the pool, the round chamber at the center of this stony prison yawning before them both. She looked on, afraid – but didn't show it, as he clicked on his heavy, weighted boots.
"Link, aren't you afraid?" She asked. He looked on silently, standing over the abyss. He nodded.
"The Goddesses ask too much of you. Much too much. This… after that last battle, this is suicide."
The cold Hylian nodded, but didn't stop his preparations. There looked to be no exit from the cold chamber below. He stepped towards the edge, slipped the mask of the blue tunic over his face, and stepped forward, the weight of the boots – and the world – sending him down the chasm.
Midna blinked away the memory, her eyes sliding open. That's when she noticed it, in the distance. Swooping towards them from far off, its eyes locked on its prey.
"Bastrii?!" Midna shouted, pounding her shoulder hard. The Bosmer winced, her scar aching from the touch as she turned to look at her.
"What?"
"Dragon!" She shouted, pointing to the sky. Bastrii's gaze snapped to the beast, her eyes wide. Several leagues in the distance, but pointed straight for them.
She kicked her heels into the buck's sides, reaching for her bow. "What in the Nine Divines is a Dragon doing out here?!" She shouted to no one in particular, Midna floating off the side. "And why is it coming right for us!"
"I don't know!" Midna shouted, panic setting in. "Use one of your stupid wood elf tricks and get us out of here!"
Bastrii didn't have anything on hand, so she did what she thought best. Book it. Her hand pressed to the head of her Elk, and she called for him in that soothing, whispering voice – the one she used in the meadow to tame him.
And with it, Midna understood one word. "Flee".
The sudden whiplash from the turn of pace nearly made Midna fall behind – her hand just barely catching on Bastrii's travel hood as she pulled herself close.
And the dragon was still gaining on them.
The Bosmer's eyes darted around, looking for something – anything they could use to avoid the death approaching from their rear.
And as the dragon breathed in a breath of fire, she spotted it. A cave. Deep enough to bolt into.
"Brae! Left!" She called, guiding him towards the mountain side. He gave a short bugle in compliance, pummeling the floor as they passed a large, moving mound of fluff.
A bear.
They darted right into the cave, the Elk sliding to a stop. The powerful wings beat as the dazed bear outside was caught in a wave of charring flame – the grizzly roaring in pain. The dragon followed immediately, grabbing the burnt bear in its talons and swooping off with it.
A whole grizzly bear. It picked up a whole bear and took the beast with it.
The trio panted, the Elk bleating and pummeling its hooves against the damp cave floor in terror and frustration. Midna let her magic loose as she fell to the ground, holding her pounding chest. Bastrii fell off the saddle and joined her, plummeting to the dirt with a soft thud.
For several minutes, they only breathed. The adrenaline slowly bubbling down as Braehoof laid down, too.
"That… that was intense." Midna said, sitting up.
"I have to kill those things."
"Excuse my language Bastrii, but I think I have to use a word I picked up in Hyrule. Are you fucking crazy?" She said, standing to her feet. She clacked her boots on the floor, looking down at the worn Bosmer. "You try to fight those things, and you'll die. And if you die, it's going to kill me next. Then it will eat Braehoof for desert!"
The Elk gave a short whine.
"Braehoof said he's better as a main course." Bastrii retorted, sitting up. The Elk nodded appreciatively.
"He could be leftovers, I don't care! If you plan on killing those things, you're going to need an army. Better yet, you're going to need Link."
"Okay, I really doubt he's that good."
"I thought so too, but he's killed things twice that size, underwater, wearing boots made of iron that dragged him to the bottom!" She shouted in return. "At this point, I think it's destiny that we meet. Because there's no way in hell you're going to take one of those things on, one on one. You saw what it did to that bear. That was crazy! Nuts! Bonkers! It caught it on fire and dragged it on a wild ride!"
"To be fair, if I was a hungry dragon, bear is appetizing too."
Midna threw her arms up in defeat. "Do you at least understand what I'm saying? I don't want to die."
"Yes, I get it. You don't want to die, and you don't want me to die. You could just say it."
She refused, floating over to the cave entrance. She gave outside a weary peak, across the still aspen forests and the babbling brook.
"It looks like he left. He was probably looking for food." Midna said. "Good thing he settled for bear. Let's go."
Bastrii slowly got to her feet, noticing that a broken dagger lay beneath her. Kicking it over, she turned to look a ways deeper into the cave.
"Hold on. There might be something here." She said, eyes squinting. She gazed deeper into the cave's uncertain depths, steadying her breath as her hand traced the rocky wall. It smelled like bear, but she was uncertain if any remained.
"No, nothing is here. It's a cave. Not every cave has loot-"
Bastrii turned the corner, stubbing her toes on a wooden crate. The metal hinged wood bounced as she grasped at her toes, the chest unharmed. "Oh, would you look at that." Bastrii smiled, flipping the iron latch free of the container.
Midna crossed her arms. "It's probably empty." She said, glaring. "Why would ANYONE hide a chest in a bear den?"
Bastrii looked to her left, noticing the broken skeleton of the man responsible. Tattered leather armor lay on either side, the flies long gone. An iron sword rusted against his now bony fingers. By the looks of it, he was probably a bandit of some sort – his ribs crushed by the bear's weight.
She gingerly lifted the lid, shuffling the contents of the chest around. Several diaries, dozens of letters – five bottles of mead (as expected), a large coin pouch that swiftly joined her own, several candles (which she took a small one) along with an inkwell and unused journal that joined her pack, several precious gems that she handed to Midna, and a single silver and ruby ring, emblazoned with the Symbol of the Cadecus.
She read a few of the sparse notes to herself, her heart fluttering.
"This was a Healer's Chest. It must have been stolen from them something around… ten, twenty years ago. And this would be a Medica's Ring. It helps channel Magicka for healing spells." Bastrii smiled, slipping it over her finger. "Rings like these are only granted to the advanced healers of the Mages Guild of Anvil, in Cyrodil. I've seen these a few times before, when I was in search of a healing spell for my Father."
She flipped through the mead stained documents, the writing a bit hard to read. "Some of this would be priceless to the Mages Guild in Anvil, but that's well over a few month's journey away. By the time we reached there, there may not even be a Skyrim left."
She dropped the documents into the chest, sighing. "This research could save the lives of many. I have to take something. There's alchemy notes here, restoration, alteration – I can't just leave it in some bear cave."
She picked up the journals, her eyes alighting as she found one in particular.
"This was their spell book." She whispered, flicking through the pages. All of this magical knowledge, at her finger tips. "Barin Ganena." She said, reading his name aloud. "I've heard his name before. Back at the Mage's Guild."
She frowned, looking over the notes. It was written in a language she didn't understand.
"If you're done with your gushing, that town you were talking about would probably like to know how close they came to being a torched ruin." Midna said, slipping the gems into a small pocket on the saddlebag. "Just grab what you can and let's go."
She took the journal to her chest, slipping it past her gambeson to hold against her heart. Something this valuable must be protected. A few of the other important papers joined her belongings in her bag.
She rejoined Midna on Braehoof's back, stroking his side. He looked up to her, eyes wide in fear as she reassured him.
"It's okay boy. He was hungry, and he got what he wanted. Let's get out of here before he comes back looking for scraps."
It was all the encouragement he needed. He kicked into action, taking up an aggressive canter up along the ridge line, following the idle smoke trails passing into the sky.
The sun began to touch the far horizon as they cleared the last hurdle, the village finally in sight.
"You know," Midna began, "I used to hide from people all the time in Hyrule. I was a bit of an outcast there." She said, smiling. "But here in Skyrim, most people only give me a few weird glances, and not much else. It's much more accepting than what I'm used to."
Bastrii chuckled. "It's because most have seen, heard, or interacted with something unworldly once or thrice before. You're really not too strange. Some of the Familiars from Conjuration look weirder, and they're not that common."
"You keep saying things like Alteration, Conjuration – these are schools of Magic, right?" Midna said, thinking. "How do you channel these spells?"
Bastrii thought about it, returning to her time spent in the Anvil Mage's Guild. "Well, first you must know the incantation. You can speak it or think it, and the flow of magicka around you will bend to that energy. Then, you reach out to it, as in forcing your body to grasp it. Once you do, it's like two droplets of water meeting – you combine with the magicka, and you channel it through your body. Some have gestures you must perform while doing it, too, to bring that magic into the realm of Nirn."
"I see!" Midna said, a bit excited to hear it. "So, knowing this, I might be able to learn your Magics. That would be useful, considering how I can't do much otherwise."
Bastrii fumbled the conversation, babbling her confusion. "Hold on, what did I say about not being a target? Secondly, channeling Magicka is just as dangerous as being struck by a spell. Most people know this. Swinging a sword burns your arm, shooting an arrow burns your shoulder, hefting a shield hurts your wrist – but casting Magicka burns the rough edges of your soul."
"Then mine is as smooth as a sphere by now. I've been using Twili magic my whole life." She faced the rear of the Elk, kicking her legs up comfortably as they entered Ivarstead. A dozen or so small dwellings lined the road before them, a cobble bridge overtaking a river up the path. It led to the very first step of the Throat of the World, the first twelve in fact – before a small flight directed the trail upwards, curving steadily up the mountain.
A gust of snowy wind blew across her face, trickles of the coming weather taunting her from her position. She remembered reading the names off the map, the Darkwater River joining the White River at the curve below, filling the distant Lake Geir.
Gently patting Braehoof, they came to a stop. She looked around her – the place was a ghost town, not a soul in sight.
"Where is everyone?" Bastrii said, taking in the empty town before her. "You could hear a Septim drop from a mile away."
"I don't know what you mean. There's only a few houses here, so there can't be many people to begin with. Maybe it's lunch time? Speaking of which, I'm hungry." Midna twirled a ruby on the tip of her finger, sparing the magic to keep it balanced.
Stepping off of her mount, she patted his side. "Let's find you a stable, and have them take care of you. I don't think you've ever had a proper brushing, huh?" She smiled. The Elk nodded, seemingly more chipper as twilight began to take the land. Bastrii led her companion south, towards the lip of town. Midna hovered off to the side, looking around the empty village.
"Vilemyr Inn. Sounds like our stop for the night. Just in time, too – much later and we'd be caught out in the cold. Spot a stable anywhere, Midna?"
"Is a stable a place where you put horses?"
"Yes. Isn't that obvious?"
"Well, I'm asking, because there's no horses." She pointed around the corner of the Inn, a large barn left unattended. None of the stalls were in use, nor did it look like anyone had put in the effort to take care of them.
Midna laughed. "Looks like we should keep walking, huh? Why settle down for the night when we can't even find a worth while Inn to do it in?"
"Look, I'm pretty sure they've caught wind of the dragons. They're probably just hiding. It's not like they're all dead, huh?" She led Braehoof towards the open gates, letting him choose his stall. "If anyone is here, I'll make sure you're given the treatment you deserve tonight, Braehoof."
The Elk gave a short bugle, excited for what's to come. Visions of berries and other treats danced in his head, while Bastrii took the saddle off and hoisted the saddlebags onto her shoulders. His teeth nicked at the wooden gate to pull it close, once the Bosmer escaped the enclosure. Bastrii smiled, scratching him behind the ears.
Rounding the corner, she entered to find the Inn – much to her shock – empty. Only the Tavern Keeper sat on a stool, his bald head and wrinkled face looking much different compared to the usual Nords Bastrii had come across.
"Oh! Welcome to Vilemyr Inn. If there's anything I can get you, let me know." He said, with a short, but glum smile. Bastrii hadn't noticed it, but at a lone table sat a solitary Nord women, fiddling with a lute. She seemed depressed, but she paid her little mind.
Approaching the bar, the duo sat in each their own stool, taking the weight off of a long journey. Bastrii sat the bags down with a thunk, situating herself. The man eyed Midna carefully, his brows crossing in suspicion.
"Are you some kind of Daedra, or is this one of those weird fashion trends the kids are doing nowadays?" He rubbed his older eyes, as if it would fix his vision.
"No, I'm just from another country along the way." Midna said. The man thought about it, before nodding.
"Who am I to judge? Welcome. I'm Wilhelm. What can I do for you two lovely ladies?"
"A lot." Bastrii said, coughing to clear her throat. "We'd like to rent a room, please, and if someone could watch over my mount outside, that would be wonderful. I'm willing to pay a bit more if he can be well taken care of. Dinner and a drink would be appreciated, too."
"Fifteen septims for the room, eight for dinner for the both of you, twelve to take care of your horse, and what will you be drinking?" He said, as Bastrii quickly counted out the coins into the Innkeeper's palm.
"Milk." Bastrii and Midna said at the same time, the Bosmer giving her a glare as if to say 'don't take my drink'.
Midna stared at her, her eyes saying 'I'm totally going to take your drink.'
"I only have enough milk left for a single tankard-"
"I'LL TAKE IT!" Midna shouted, slamming the ruby on the counter. Before Bastrii could snatch it back, the old man had already pocketed the thing.
"Sold, to the midget with the crazy hair!" He said cheerfully, pouring her the last glass of milk.
Bastrii stared at her, her jaw agape.
"That was worth two hundred septims." She said, the bartender chuckling to himself over his tidy profit for the day.
"And?"
"That milk was worth two. At best."
"Worth it." She said, tipping it back and chugging it right in front of the Bosmer.
"Can I please have that back? That wasn't hers to give away." Bastrii glared at the bartender, her hands on the table.
"Sorry lady, a deals a deal."
"Then I'll get the guard involved."
"Oh woe is me, who unknowingly pocketed a stolen ruby, when your friend is the thief among us." He said with a grin.
"Sucks to be you." Midna said between sips, happy to see the Elf suffer if only for a minute.
Bastrii had enough.
"Fus!" She shouted, knocking the unsuspecting bartender to the floor with the power of her voice. Midna toppling over in her chair as the sudden wave of energy knocked the mug onto her face, spilling the contents across her – and the floor. A few metal cups danced along the stone below, wooden plates joining them.
"Whoa lady, calm down!"
"It's Dragonborn."
"Whatever, here, just take it! Keep that magic of yours to yourself!" He tossed the Ruby up onto the counter, Bastrii catching it with a smile.
"See? Was that really so hard?" She said, with a deadpan glare.
She turned to the nearby room, "Is this mine?" The angry Elf continued, having had it with being walked all over.
"Yes, whatever room you want! You pick it, it's yours."
She opened the door, grabbing her Saddlebag and tossing it inside. She looked down at the stunned Imp, who was wiping her face clear in the stunned silence.
Bastrii grabbed a towel from the bar, and dropped it on her. "Clean yourself up. We leave at dawn."
And with that, she slammed the door shut behind her, leaving the bar an absolute mess.