Brynjolf came to the next morning, and it took his vision a while to adjust, and even longer for him to remember the fight and why he didn't wake up to find himself half a room away from Rowena like he usually was on their adventures. And then it all came back to him in one go and he tried to fight the anger he suddenly felt and sat up, only to get one of the strongest dizzy spells he had ever given. What…?

"Easy. It's amazing what Rowena can do with the right ingredients. I'm sure everything will be fuzzy for a while."

Brynjolf frowned and looked towards the voice, only seeing a black and silver blur that was getting more and more focused as time went on. But the voice was new. Heavily accented, so not Farkas, Torvar or one of the girls he had met there. It didn't look like a dark elf and whoever it was looked slightly young and had a Farkas look about him. Farkas' twin who used to have a stick up his arse, he realized. He swore again. What had happened and where was Rowena?

And then the Companion's words sunk in and he realized just what the implication meant.

No. No. She did not!

"No. She wouldn't do that to me. We made a deal, it's…" he went to sit up, practically tossing himself into a sitting position, and another wave of dizziness hit him along with nausea, and suddenly there were two shapes that were distinctly Runa and Hroar-shaped that flanked him.

"Ma said she was protecting you, Uncle Bryn…" Hroar pointed out.

"Oh did she?" Brynjolf scoffed. "Kids- out, now." he squeezed his eyes shut.

"But-" the pair of them began.

"Now!" Brynjolf insisted, and he heard the children scamper away. He re-opened his eyes and found the blur was more human shaped. "She drugged me…" he confirmed. "She. Drugged Me." he shook his head. He wracked his brain for a source, and then remembered, glancing down at the now-empty mead bottle. He lifted it and gave it a quick, experimental sniff.

By the smell of it, she had even used the combo of ingredients he had taught her to ensure that marks who would be asleep would stay asleep. And with a great deal more effort, he remembered her playing with the bottle, which now that he thought of it, was her dosing it.

Then it hadn't been added earlier in the night, so it was added then… his heart sunk. Oh, his lass was as smart as much as she was manipulative. The kiss that had almost gone further, the tears, the sob story, her lack of defense in the fight, her letting him go to be the one to drink themselves into Oblivion- it had been staged. It was her means to get him to this point. Then what about the first one outside of the Sanctuary?

He shook his head. That bit didn't matter for now. What did matter was that during that fight he had gone and snapped, and staged or not he knew that his own words would sink in eventually with her current state.

He glanced at the other man, who hesitated before holding out a vial of something.

"I doubt after that realization you're in any mood to drink from what a stranger gives you, but it's the fastest cure to one of those," he replied. "I am Vilkas, by the way. I don't think-"

"When did she leave?" he cut Vilkas off.

"She asked me not to tell you,"

Brynjolf shot up and practically lunged at the man, going a matter of inches too far to the left, but still managed to clip him, which did the trick and let him pin Vilkas to the wall. "She drugged me to keep me here because she's headed into what she thinks is a suicide mission. Did she tell you that part?"

"No-"

"Then tell me when she left and what route she's taking."

"She left four hours ago, and she didn't say. Now let me down."

Brynjolf growled and released him, taking the vial and downing it in one go afterwards. He flinched, then shook his head. "Who else would know what routes she would take around here?"

"No idea. After she sided with the Stormcloaks she doesn't have many friends around here."

"Shopkeepers? Friends who owe her a favor."

"I've only ever been with her during quick passes through town. Ysolda may know, but… Rowena may not have told anyone for their own good."

"Where can I find Ysolda, then?"

"She owns one of the stands at the market. It may lead to a dead end…" Vilkas offered.

"I still need to find her. She can't do this on her own."

"I have to disagree. She is Dra-"

"I'm well aware that she's Dragonborn. The fact that that seems to be the excuse that's leading her down her one-woman path of self –desruction is what's bothering me," Brynjolf replied. He slowly made his way over to his things, trying to ignore the fact the room was spinning. He paused for a while and leaned on the wall. "Just what was in what she slipped me…?" he hissed.

Vilkas shrugged, then walked over and took his pack. "Come on, then. The one's who aren't training today are attempting to see where she's gone, too."

"I thought you said she didn't say,"

"You're not the only one who cares for Rowena," Vilkas shot back.

Brynjolf clenched his jaw. It was only a matter of time before he met his completion, he knew that much, but he didn't expect it to be the only apparent friend he had at that moment. "So what do you suggest, then?"

"The others are making sweeps from the gates. You and I can try around town."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Vilkas replied. "Ria's home, keeping guard. She'll take care of Hroar and Runa when we're gone."

"I need to talk to them… tell them… … what Ro's thrown herself into."

"Be quick about it or we lose the scent if there's still one."

"If she's gone for hours how is there…?" Brynjolf began, and then realization dawned on him. "Ah…"

"So she has told you."

"I've heard enough stories and put the pieces together."

"Fair enough."

Brynjolf glanced around the square as he and Vilkas finally arrived there. So much had changed that he hadn't picked up during the previous evening. Not setting foot in the city since his last robbery there was starting to show, as was Rowena's influence, if he had to guess.

"Ysolda!" Vilkas called from a few yards ahead.

Brynjolf snapped out of his haze and quickened his pace over to Vilkas before stopping in his tracks upon seeing the woman in question.

He did know Ysolda.

Except, three years ago she was going around calling herself 'Sol', and she was the easiest mark he had come across in the city- in more ways than one. It had originally been a long con, and he had settled in the city for around a year, where he had met the woman early on. He had her wrapped around his finger while robbing her blind. He still remembered a few of their trysts before he had finished getting all the information on payloads he needed from her and skipped town. He also remembered she thought they were serious. If he got found out, they were doomed. Well, he had barely remembered her, maybe she wouldn't-

His thought process came to a crashing halt when there was a quick, sharp pressure that made his head snap to the side and then it stung. When he adjusted his neck, he found her standing in front of him, looking murderous. "… So you do remember me…"

"How can I not?! I wasted good months on you! And for what? You left in the middle of the night, never to be seen again?!" Ysolda blurted. "What brought you back here?"

"A friend of ours' is in danger…" Brynjolf deadpanned.

Ysolda scoffed. "Good. He or she should stay that way. It's better than being around you," she snapped, then looked at Vilkas, who was trying considerably hard not to look surprised at the others' exchange. "I wouldn't trust him, Vilkas. This one's a liar and a cheat and a thief."

"I thought as much with the last one," Vilkas deadpanned, and when Brynjolf clenched his jaw and gave him an 'are you kidding?' look, he shrugged. "Right now I need to trust him. Rowena's gone and thrown herself into danger and we need to figure out where she's gone."

"Wait, Rowena's the friend in question?" Ysolda asked, then scoffed. "Oh, then she's definitely better off. Did you bed her and then drop her, too? She deserves better-"

"I know," Brynjolf snapped. "But right now it's her safety I'm worried about so if she stopped by or told you anything, let us know or she's gonna end up hurt or worse."

Ysolda looked from him to Vilkas, who nodded to confirm the story. "… No, she didn't come by. I just saw her leaving your Hall earlier."

"Which way did she go?"

"Main gate," Ysolda replied.

Brynjolf turned to head down the stairs without another word.

Ysolda watched him, a look of confusion plastered on her face before she looked at Vilkas.

Vilkas put his hands up again. "I don't know. He's… there's genuine care there, that's all I know."

"I'd still watch him…" Ysolda pointed out.

Vilkas nodded in agreement. "I am,"

Ysolda walked back to her stall without another word, and Vilkas hurried to catch up with Brynjolf. When he did, he grabbed his shoulder. "Easy. We only left with weapons and armor. We need supplies if we're both going after her for a while."

"Then let's go," Brynjolf deadpanned.

Vilkas pointed at Belethor's shop, and Brynjolf reluctantly led the way, only stopping when Belethor himself met them halfway to walk in, having 'just finished some other business in the market'. Vilkas started naming off a list and Belethor retrieved the items, all the while looking at Brynjolf and back to his work.

After a while, Brynjolf broke. "Problem?" He probably remembers me and the fact I disappeared right after his place got robbed blind, too.

"So you're Rowena's latest squeeze, huh?" Belethor asked, then snorted and jabbed a finger in Vilkas' direction. "Always thought it was gonna be them, myself…" he set one of the health potions down. "So, I gotta know. How is she in the sack?"

Before Brynjolf could even finish letting his face drop, he saw a blur of black and silver, and he realized Vilkas had done his job for him and punched Belethor in the face.

"That's our Harbringer you're dishonoring. I'd watch your tongue," Vilkas replied.

Belethor grunted in understanding.

Vilkas sighed. "What do we owe you, then?"

"No charge," Belethor coughed.

"Good choice," Vilkas replied, then dragged everything they had bought into his own pack and led the pair of them out. Once He noticed Brynjolf's silence, he spoke up. "Steel hurts more than a bare fist."

"That's not it. Let's just go."

After a moment, Vilkas put the pieces together. "… … It's not her, you know."

"What?" Brynjolf asked without looking at him.

Vilkas spotted the guards opening the gate for him and stopped for a bit. "Different sister,"

"What?" Brynjolf repeated.

"If you're worried about me being the one defending her right now, it's her older sister. Like I said, it's the fact that Rowena's our Harbringer that I did the defending."

Brynjolf paused to look at him, then continued on.

After they had left the city limits, Vilkas looked back at him. "So… any ideas on the next step if she's not telling anyone anything?"

"We follow the bodies or screaming."

"I thought she-"

"Of the vampire, dragon or Thalmor variety, Lad. That's all."


Two and a half days, three bear attacks, one spriggan den and a near miss with a dragon later, Rowena had stumbled into Rorikstead. She was nearly as tired as she had been during her main recovery. She managed to make it to the Frostfruit Inn.

Upon seeing her, Erik got up immediately. "Rowa?"

Rowena saw him, smiled weakly and opened her arms. "Hello, Handsome Slayer!" she all but breathed.

Erik smiled uncertainly, moving in to hug her. "And how would your sister react to hearing you say that to me?"

"She'd get over it. Can I get a room, please?"

Erik took hold of her shoulders and ducked to look her in the eye. "Are you okay…?"

"Just… tired, and… emotionally drained," she replied, then grinned up at him. "I missed you. I mean, Callista does too, but she sees you all the time these days…"

Erik leaned closer again. "Did you hit your head?"

"I might have? There was a bear who hit me before…"

"Okay, time for you to rest now."

"But I came here to tell you that if an angry redhead who's gonna call you 'Lad' a lot stops by to look for me, tell him you don't know me," Rowena replied. "And then I'm gonna sleep for a couple of hours and then leave."

Erik frowned. "Rowa…"

"What? I will!"

"You're staying here for the night. No arguments. You look like you're dying."

"Well, I was a little while ago."

"What?!"

"Look, Er-"

"No. You're staying here until you're visibly well rested. We're family now. I have to look out for you. Now what has you so desperate to leave so soon?"

"I can't… I shouldn't tell you. Keep it at Dragonborn business," Rowena replied, suddenly far more serious than before.

"All the more reason for you to stay."

"Erik, please-"

"I will stand guard outside your door and check in every hour to make sure you're sleeping," Erik replied, taking her wrist and dragging her towards one of the rooms.

"I can't pay-"

"I'll talk to my father."

"B-"

"Are you in any immediate danger?"

"No, but I will be."

"Then humor me. Please. Call it a favor," Erik replied, and offered his best big-eyed, pleading look for good measure.

After a few seconds, Rowena sighed. "Fine, but I'm serious- if a redhead comes in here, probably yelling about me, I wasn't here. It's for his safety, okay?"

"Okay," Erik nodded after a moment, and herded her into the room for good measure.

Rowena smiled and kissed him on the cheek before putting her things down and collapsing face-first into the bed.

Erik expected her to fake him out more, but within mere moments, her breathing had slowed and she had gone completely slack, honestly sleeping. He closed the door and waved over his father. "If some redhead guy comes around looking for her, just let me know."

"She hiding from him?"

"Not entirely sure yet. I'm gonna see for myself first."

"Fair enough."