Disclaimer: Characters sans Lisabeta and setting are property of Bethesda.

Author's Note: This was kind of a fun exercise wherein we expose one of our dragonborn's greatest weaknesses: her skipping merrily into danger completely oblivious because she is so easily excited. This is actually based on something that happened to me in game that I thought would make for a good story. Poor, poor Faendal getting stuck babysitting...

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Slaughterfish

Lisabeta was greatly honored to be invited by Faendal to his wedding ceremony in Riften, and she made sure to attend. After all, it wouldn't do to miss the event when she had greatly helped him woo his bride… He was even wearing the copper and onyx circlet she had given him the day he departed her service!

When first she met Faendal, he was just a humble Bosmer working the lumber mill and sneaking in conversations with Camila whenever he could. There were those in the town who looked down on him for his race, but the young Imperial woman treated him with kindness and genuinely enjoyed his company. His path to romance was further blocked by Sven, a rival in love. The xenophobic Nord had tried to sabotage his efforts to win Camilla's hand by writing a nasty letter and claiming it was from the elf, but unfortunately for the bard, he asked the newcomer from across the border to deliver the note. It made it to Camilla all right, along with a whole explanation of his scheme. Sven was no longer in the running for her affections, and when Lisabeta informed him of this, Faendal was so grateful he gave her a few coins he had saved up from working at the mill. It didn't end there; Faendal became a friend, mentor, and companion during the first days of her journey.

That had been about six months ago. His exploits alongside Lisabeta earned him fame, his trip to retrieve Lucan's golden dragon claw with her earned him even more admiration from Camila, and since he returned to Riverwood bearing Ancient Nordic weapons, jewels, and even dragon bone and scales, no one could contest his worth as Camila's suitor. That suited the two of them just fine. The Bosmer stopped working at the mill and took up a position as the village hunter, with Camilla helping negotiate sales through her brother's store. Though neither individual was a Nord, their arrangement showed Nordic practicality. More importantly though, it showed love. Not everyone could say that. As a friend to both of them, Lisabeta couldn't be happier.

Now, the couple was standing with their friend on Lakeview's spacious porch, which overlooked Lake Ilinalta. Lisabeta had invited them to use her manor as a honeymoon of sorts, being there only to greet them and then giving them space while Rayya handled the rest. The nostalgic Colovan Brandy had already been poured, and they sipped while they toured the space they would have access to for the week. At the moment, they were getting a good view of the lands surrounding the estate.

"The land here is so beautiful!" Camilla breathed, eagerly grasping the hand of her husband. "These forests and hills remind me so much of Cyrodiil. And the lake…" Setting down her goblet and raising her other hand to shield her eyes, she looked down the slope to see the sunlight dancing off Ilinalta's waves. "That might make for some good swimming…" A mischievous smile crossed her face as she looked up at Faendal, making Lisabeta blush at the implication. It WAS a honeymoon after all.

Judging by his serious countenance, it seemed he was thinking of something else entirely. "Only if you are very careful, my love, and only if I am there to watch out for you. I'm sure Lisabeta remembers just how dangerous these waters are." He cast a meaningful look at his hostess.

The girl frowned. Faendal…Ilinalta…danger… Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "Right! I definitely did not forget about that time you and your magnificent archery skills saved me from those diabolical pests!" The Bosmer raised a skeptical eyebrow, knowing full well his friend had in fact forgotten about that incident. Sometimes it surprised him that she still had all her limbs… She didn't notice that expression though. "Faendal is right, you need to check the water first."

Camilla did not follow. "What pests?"

A wicked grin crossed her face. "Oh, it would be much more informational to show you rather than tell you. Follow me." Beckoning, she led the couple back downstairs and to the doors of her trophy room, coming to rest in front of a particularly nasty-looking fish mounted on the wall outside. "Observe, my dear Camilla: Slaughterfish. Aptly named because they will slaughter you if you don't slaughter them first. They usually swim in packs and are quick to strip you of your flesh." The young woman gaped at the massive jaws lined with sharp teeth and shuddered. Even the eyes seemed to follow her… "As a matter of fact, this particular specimen was taken from this very lake. Have I got a perfect cautionary tale for you; I'll even tell it at my own expense! I was being rather dense…"

"Oh, this ought to be good," Faendal crossed his arms with a smirk, which earned him a smack from his wife. "Hey, you'll see what I mean!"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

19th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Faendal and Lisabeta finally emerged from the murky darkness of the Embershard Mine (though to be fair it wouldn't have ended up so murky if the practical Imperial hadn't decided to carry off every torch she encountered). They found that despite their work clearing out the mine and digging up a great deal of iron ore, the sun was still relatively high in the sky. They had gotten an early start just before the break of dawn, and even with Faendal giving her archery tips as they went, they had routed the violent bandits without any real difficulty and gathered up the valuables they had stashed.

Lisabeta was amazed at the humble wood elf's skills with his bow, though she knew that most Bosmer learned those abilities at a young age given their hunt-centric culture. Even when she was clumsy and missed a target while hiding in the shadows, he was always able to pick them off one by one with expert shots before she could draw her sword. Bandits, she decided, were a lot harder to hit than sleeping bears. Still, she noticed her aim improving with the practice, and she was starting to build strength in her bowstring arm that kept the shots firing straight. Perhaps the biggest lesson she had learned while in the mine was to snipe enemies from the cover of darkness. It didn't feel right to attack someone who couldn't see you, not after just recently coming to terms with killing people in general. Faendal reassured her though that they had approached the guard at the entrance with no killing intent and had been attacked with killing intent. Also, the guards who had followed her to Riverwood from Whiterun reported the group's violent attacks on those straying too far off the beaten path. "There are men in this world who don't place much value in human lives." Those were Hadvar's words, and they apparently fit this group. It was no time to doubt.

"Still have plenty of daylight," Faendal observed, looking to his companion. "I assume we aren't going into the barrow now?"

She shook her head. "I want a good night's rest before we go, and we'll have to sell off this stuff to Lucan so we have space in our packs to pick up some artefacts in there…" Her eyes flickered with excitement at the prospect of excavating items from an ancient Nord burial crypt.

"Will we head back then and prepare?"

Lisabeta shook her head again. "Too early. I want to explore a bit while I have the chance! I'll be back in Bruma before I know it, and I hate wasting opportunity. I mean, if we get the Dragonstone and claw tomorrow, I'll have it delivered the day after and just like that this whole adventure will be over!"

Faendal studied his new friend carefully. "Why are you in such a rush to go back? I mean, an extra day or two to take in the sights of Whiterun, can't hurt can it?"

This was met with a sigh that spoke more of obligation than desire. "The way things have been going, I might be pressing my luck. I mean, my parents, if they knew where I was…"

"Wait, you didn't tell your parents you were coming?!" Faendal frowned in disapproval. "You're rather reckless, aren't you?"

"They would have said 'no'!" she protested, holding up her hands in self-defense. "Didn't you ever sneak off without telling your parents?"

"No. When I knew it was time for me to strike out for new opportunity beyond Valenwood, I told them my intentions and I got their blessings. Helps alleviate the feelings of guilt."

"You're also a guy. And a really good archer…" she muttered, now flushing with embarrassment. "They wouldn't have held you back…"

"And you think it was better to leave when you weren't prepared?" he challenged. "If you hadn't met Hadvar…"

"I was going to stay on the main road until I got to civilization, then hire a mercenary! Running into dragons was not something anyone could predict, and this Stormcloak uprising is being kept hush-hush across the border. And I certainly wouldn't go bandit hunting on a normal day!" She drew herself up tall. "You could wait until you were fifty to finally be ready and not be tied down, but for me, it doesn't work that way. In two months I'll be 19. I'm lucky I'm not already engaged at the least. But it will happen soon, and then when do I get to have my adventure? They'll have me popping out children and that will be the end of that." She shut her eyes in frustration. "I couldn't wait any longer."

To that, Faendal had no answer. Even though the girl was being whimsical and getting into all manner of trouble, he had to acknowledge her circumstances were not the same as his. He thought of Camilla, who despite her curiosity and bravery in moving to a new province was rarely allowed out of her brother's sight. Her place firmly entrenched in the store helping, she was already attracting suitors (and he was guilty as charged in that account). Lisabeta was about the same age, the only difference was that she would not be told to stay home and forget about her dreams. Before he realized it, he was shaking his head. "Stubborn as a Nord. Let's hope you are just as tough. You're making progress in that category."

She looked back up at him. "Are you just saying that to be nice?"

"No. Your shots are getting cleaner and more accurate. It's actually quite amazing how quickly you are making gains in your ability. I think you'll be fine as long as you keep a partner with you as backup for the time being."

Her response was a nod. "Even I'm not that reckless…"

"Good. Now, where would you like to go explore? I think along the southern bank of the White River into Lake Ilinalta would be a good, quick trip with some nice scenery. I know the area pretty well."

"All right, let's go on an adventure!" Excitedly, she shifted the weight of the pack on her shoulder and took off excitedly.

"Will you slow down!"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Their afternoon trek proved to be more eventful than anticipated. As they had headed along the southern bank, they came across a hunter's camp. The owner was a bit jumpy, though quickly sheathed his dagger once they declared their intentions. When asked why he was so nervous, he pointed them further to the west, where he had run into what appeared to be a necromancer performing rituals near the river. Lisabeta's normally relaxed features hardened; necromancy was an illegal school of magic, and she'd heard plenty of tales about despicable Mannimarco the Worm King. It didn't take long to get it through her head that it was her duty to sort this person out and give those bodies a proper burial. Ever practical Faendal first inquired whether this necromancer was working alone or with others, what kind of attacks he had used, what kind of terrain he was settled on, and all manner of details. Even the excitable Lisabeta had to acknowledge the wisdom in his questions.

With little persuading, she convinced Faendal that they could overpower the lone wolf on the condition that they had an escape plan in case more were hidden in the area. As they moved in on the site of his ritual, they realized he had the advantage of being situated high on a slope along the river, so surprise and stealth were not in their favor. It mattered not; she intended to speak with him first if possible, filled with confidence that if negotiations went sour Faendal would have an arrow in the necromancer's chest in an instant.

So she approached, calling out so as not to startle him too badly. "Hey, Mister Necromancer, we need to talk…"

The figure cloaked in dark robes snapped his attention from his ritual altar where he had been chanting over a skeleton and emitting a sickly purple glow from his hands. The light did not fade, to her dismay. "You never should have come here," he snarled, instantly launching into attack mode. She never expected him to be so hostile so quickly. It was all she could do to pull her shield up and side-step his magical attack. Just as planned, her side-step gave Faendal the opening he needed to fire his shot. As the dark mage staggered, blood spurting from the new wound, she turned and ran her sword through him. His enraged struggling ceased in moments.

Frowning severely, she pulled back the hood and studied the deceased Dunmer. His robes bore an eerie green emblem of a skull across the front, a symbol that marked his specialization as a necromancer. And apparently, he hadn't been one for talking. She grabbed the dagger from him and stashed it in her pack before turning to address the skeleton lying on the stone ritual table. "This person needs a proper burial, but…" she broke into an embarrassed shrug, "touching dead things creeps me out! Think the hunter will take care of it for us?"

Faendal rolled his eyes. For Bosmer, blood, guts and bones were all a part of daily life, as the taking of plant life was forbidden. He'd easily take those bones as if they were sticks, not worried one bit about any taboo. "Never mind, I've got it. Do you have a shovel?" She started to say something, then sheepishly shook her head. He cast an unamused look. "So you came out here determined to give this dead person a burial but didn't even have a shovel?" She shook her head again, this time kicking the ground with her toe. His sigh was one of pure exasperation; this was like the material for a bad comedy act… "I guess then we'll just have to ask the hunter and call it payment for keeping the area safe for him, huh?"

"I like that plan," she agreed, turning to study a book left on the table by the necromancer and leafing through the pages in keen interest. The dilemma was already far from her mind.

Even that was not the last straw for the wood elf, who was starting to think he agreed to help the Imperial girl far too quickly. What came next was.

As they headed down the slope back towards the river, she squinted against the sun's reflection on the water. "Hey, Faendal, do you see those stones sticking out of the river? Do they look natural to you?"

He shielded his eyes. "I see what you mean. I've never noticed them before while out hunting. They look like cut stones. Strange, what would those be doing in the river?"

"Something man-made, sunk to the bottom…ruins!" she determined, a grin spreading across her face. "All right! I wonder if they've already been picked over? Ancient Nord, perhaps?" Without wasting a moment to think, she flew down the rest of the embankment and ripped off her armor before plunging into the cold water. She didn't even hear Faendal shouting at her as she took a breath and dove in the direction of the stones.

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she nearly squealed in excitement and lost all her air supply; it was a circular ruin with stairs spiraling down to a sort of courtyard. And there, under the stairway, was a chest. Getting her bearings, she came up for air only to dive back down a second later. She kicked her way down to the chest and pulled the lid open, finding a few old coins still scattered across the bottom, which she snatched up. As she began to head for the surface once more, she ripped a few Nordic barnacles from the walls which she noted would be useful for alchemy.

She took a deep breath as she broke through the water's surface, blinking as her eyes adjusted back to the sunlight. Her first reaction was to look around for her companion, and as soon as she saw him, she wished she hadn't. His face was stormy, and his clothes were soaking wet as he stood on a small island half-way in the river. He had an arrow notched in his ready bow and it was pointing in her direction! "F-Faendal? If you want the treasure that badly, you can have it…" she stammered, treading water and calculating how effective it would be to dive back underwater and make a break for it.

But he growled something completely different. "Look. Down." She did without thinking (How stupid! That could have been a trick!), only to notice two vicious-looking fish floating near her; each had an arrow neatly sticking out of their ribs.

"What are those?" she asked, frowning in disgust at their gross faces and primitive design.

"Slaughterfish," he responded deliberately, the frown never leaving his face. "Or, if you prefer, the things that nearly killed you while you were busy playing adventurer."

"Oh…" She didn't know what else to say to that, so she did what came naturally and grabbed the slimy creatures by their tails. The scales could be useful… Then, awkwardly, she paddled her way over to the island where Faendal was still standing vigilant. His glare could pierce armor. "I've never heard of a Slaughterfish. Don't really have any up in the Jeralls," she attempted lamely. "Who knew something so archaic…"

"You didn't wait before charging in and you almost got killed. If I wasn't such a damn good archer, they would have eaten you alive!" he shouted, finally throwing down his bow in disgust. "You are an irresponsible walking disaster! How Hadvar ever dealt with you is beyond me!"

"Faendal, I'm sorry…" she began, eyes widening, but he interrupted.

"And you think you should go into an old Nord burial crypt to retrieve this artifact, stopping a group of bandit thugs and getting through ancient traps? With your attention span? I think you'd better just tell the Jarl he's got the wrong person and go back home to Bruma where you belong!" He finished, out of breath from his rant, only to find tears running down her face. No, he was NOT going to feel pity; she needed to hear this from someone before she walked into danger one time too many.

"I…I know you're right. I get so excited for all these experiences I've always dreamed of having, and I don't think straight," she admitted, roughly wiping away the tears.

"And the next one is going to be your last if you don't get it in check."

She took an unsteady breath. "Just get me back to Riverwood. I won't ask anything else of you."

He raised an eyebrow. "And then what are YOU going to do?"

The girl bit her lip and sniffled. "I'll go back to Whiterun. I have a lot of ingredients for alchemy and I've read a few books. Maybe I can get a couple experiments to succeed and can sell off the potions I make. Then I could find a mercenary…"

"You won't just give it up?" he pressed.

Lisabeta shook her head. "Both Lucan and the Jarl entrusted this job to me. And I need to prove to them and to myself that I can do it. The way you talk, I'm scared to go into that Barrow. But I should be. If I wasn't, you're right, I'd never walk back out. I have to be better than this." She turned away. "I need to go get my armor. Do you think the river is clear to cross?"

"Yeah, should be for now."

"Then let's cross and take the path back to town."

They did as she suggested, and the whole way back she was silent. She moved quickly, but at the same time without any of her normal spark. Her eyes darted back and forth as if scouting for trouble. Once, a wolf leapt from the tall grasses, but she had her hand already on the hilt of her sword and was prepared to fend it off until Faendal could put an arrow in its neck. She studied the Bosmer as he efficiently skinned the beast and butchered the most important parts of meat from it; she knew soon she wouldn't be able to rely on his expertise and would have to figure it out for herself.

Finally they arrived back in the village. She paused at the gate, heaving a sigh. "Thank you for everything you've done today, Faendal. I've learned a lot from you. And I'm still breathing, so that's also good." She shifted uncomfortably and removed the pack from her shoulder. "Here. I think you should have these. Mount it on your wall or something. After all, it takes a really impressive archer to shoot a fish in the river." Gingerly taking the gross creatures by the slimy tails, she held out the slaughterfish.

He accepted the gift with both hands, unafraid of touching the slimy rest of the bodies. "Seared slaughterfish is rather tasty. Maybe I'll stuff one and eat the other."

"Should impress Camilla."

He huffed. "Yeah, well…"

"I'll make sure to say goodbye when I head through this way on my way back to Bruma." She abruptly turned and began walking away in the direction of Alvor's house.

"No, I'll see you in the morning. Bright and early." What was he saying? He could scarcely believe the words that came from his mouth. Judging by her expression, neither could she. Well, if she was going to go through with it… And if it involved helping Camilla get her brother's claw back… And she HAD been extra careful on the way back… No, he could try and rationalize it, but the truth was that he wasn't being logical in this at all.

She visibly perked up. "You mean it?"

"No, I'm leading you on to crush your dreams," he grumbled.

"At sunrise then. I'll be ready! Meet you by the bridge out of town!" Her usual grin was back in place as she skipped the rest of the way to the house. Gods, was he going to regret this?

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"And once I told him about the house I was building over here, he pulled out this stuffed slaughterfish he'd been saving in one of his chests. Told me it was a housewarming gift with a 'message'. I know he still has the other one in your guys' place," Lisabeta concluded, smiling up at the ferocious fish.

"And you HAVE been careful, haven't you? I'd hate to hear from your other followers that they've been having to work overtime keeping you alive," Faendal questioned pointedly.

She shrugged. "I've been doing my best. I know I'm not perfect, but no one has threatened to quit on me since you. I like to think you got me trained."

Camilla giggled. "Faendal, I've never seen you so serious! You should ease up on the poor girl; it seems she's been doing just fine for herself."

He exhaled, relaxing his features. "You're right. Slaughterfish are the least of her worries now, and she's still here."

"Say, here's an idea: why don't you go slaughterfish hunting while you're here and show Camilla how it's done?" Lisabeta suggested brightly. "Then this time you could actually enjoy that seared slaughterfish for dinner."

A proud smirk crossed his lips. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea."