The next morning Rebecca staggered down the stairs with messy hair and a scowl so sour it could curdle milk. To her annoyance, the men were already seated at the bar, fully dressed and finishing up their porridge. Somehow, not one of them looked as hungover or tired as she did, yet they had drank much more the night before.
She slumped onto a stool and ordered some bread and butter from the innkeep, silencing Felix's giggle with a glare.
"This one is feeling good, yes?"
Rebecca winced. T'ariq's rumbling chuckle sounded like a foghorn in her sensitive ears. She looked up at him to see that familiar glimmer of amusement in his amber eyes as he offered her his drink. Rebecca glanced inside suspiciously before taking a sip, fearful of any strong flavours that might make her hurl.
"So, where to, Dragonborn?" Angmar asked, his voice cheery, and also far too loud. Rebecca thanked the innkeep with a nod as she took a bite of her bread.
"It's Rebecca," she mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs.
"T'ariq thinks we should gather supplies before heading off to Ivarstead," the Khajiit suggested. "This is where the Greybeards live, no?"
Rebecca nodded along, her head too fuzzy to think straight. But even in her hindered position, she saw the sense in his idea. They had, after all, picked up a lot of coin in the Barrow, and then from the Jarl. Now might be the time to load up on potions, and maybe even invest in a horse to carry their equipment.
"Maybe I can get a better set of armour." she pondered.
"As long as by 'better', you don't mean heavier," Felix snorted down the end of the bar. "You can barely lift the stuff you have now!"
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "That's not true," she sniffed. "I'm getting stronger every day."
The men shared a glance as Rebecca rolled her eyes and finished up her meagre breakfast.
"So I guess we are keeping this after all," Felix pulled the Golden Claw out of his bag, its reflection gleaming in his eyes as he held it up to the light. Rebecca's eyes widened at the sight of it, suddenly remembering her promise to Lucan.
"Oh, shit!" she gasped. "I completely forgot! We'll have to stop off at Riverwood then, to give it back to Valerius."
Felix groaned and dropped the Claw back into his back. "Forget I said anything." he grumbled, as he hopped off the barstool.
The group were just gathering up their things and getting ready to head out into Whiterun, when a young woman clad in steel armour stepped in through the door. Rebecca almost laughed aloud as the warrior moved towards them, her brown hair falling over the plates of her armour like a chocolate waterfall.
"Hello, I'm looking for Rebecca." Her blue eyes twinkled, and she made an effort to smile at each one of them. "I'm her new housecarl, Lydia."
Rebecca took a step towards her, her grin paired with a poisonous glare.
"Yes, hello, I'm Rebecca, and I won't be requiring your services, thank you." she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She had to repress another giggle as Lydia's face fell in confusion.
T'ariq appeared at Rebecca's shoulder. "Eh, Rebecca," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Excuse me, but if we are planning to kill the World-Eater, do we not need all of the help we can get?"
"Not from this one we don't." Rebecca announced, her decision final. Without waiting for anyone else to try and convince her, she moved straight past the housecarl. "Come on boys!" she called over her shoulder as she kicked open the door of the Bannered Mare, swinging her bag over her shoulder.
They wasted no time, splitting up into pairs so that they could get on the road as fast as possible. It would certainly be a much slower journey if they were to venture up the mountain to Riverwood first. Angmar and Felix headed off to Arcadia's Cauldron for another batch of healing and magicka potions. They came back to Rebecca and T'ariq like two little boys in front of a mother, their purchases in their arms and grinning with pride.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "No potions to cure disease? Nothing for poison?"
The boys turned around, crestfallen, and headed back to the Cauldron while T'ariq purred. The Khajiit and herself gathered some basic supplies from the market, but only what they really needed, as T'ariq insisted that they hunt on the road to save money. Some of the Whiterun citizens smiled and waved at them as they walked around the town, some faces familiar to Rebecca from the night before, and some a little more hazy.
They stopped off at Warmaiden's to buy another few sets of arrows, seeing as Rebecca had found herself more comfortable with the bow than the sword. As they packed their purchases tightly into quivers, T'ariq shot her another of his curious looks.
"What?" she asked, glancing at her friend with suspicion. That face was reserved for penetrating questions, but surely in the last couple of days, he'd had his fill.
"Nothing," T'ariq shook his broad head, a mischievous sparkle dancing in his amber eyes. "I do not think it my place to ask."
Rebecca stopped packing and stood straight for a moment, her hands on her back. He looked up at her to find another scathing glare aimed right at him.
"Alright," he chuckled. "This one simply wonders if anything happened last night…" he trailed off, looking at her meaningfully. Rebecca was lost. T'ariq hung his head, his whiskers twitching with laughter. "Between the kit and the boy."
Rebecca's jaw dropped, and she lunged forward to throw a slap at the cat. But he was too fast, and ducked around her nimbly.
"No, that is certainly not your place to ask!" she scoffed in disbelief as T'ariq fought to hold back a fit of laughter. He raised his hands as if in surrender.
"I do not judge."
"And I do not sleep with strangers!" Rebecca cried.
"T'ariq did not suggest anything of this kind." he rasped, packing the last of the arrows into his own leather quiver and slinging it onto his back. Rebecca was still a little hot in the face by the time the gang had returned to the centre of town, laden with their new goodies. Felix immediately jabbed a finger at her reddening cheeks, just as she knew he would.
"What's all this about?" he teased.
"Nothing!" she snapped back, sending the men into another chorus of laughter as she stomped off to the gates, not waiting to see if the others would follow.
Even walking down past the city sentries was an effort with all of their baggage, so the company bought an old cart horse from Skulvar Sable-Hilt at the stables, on which they draped in their bags and tugged along behind them.
The journey back up to Riverwood was surprisingly pleasant; the weather held out and the sun shone down on their backs as they climbed the southern road. They made good time too, largely due to the absence of weight that they had been lugging around in the past few days. T'ariq and Felix seemed to have warmed to Angmar after last night, and the three men fell into easy conversation as they puffed up alongside the rushing river. Even Rebecca felt her heart lighten, particularly as she knew that there was nothing especially dangerous expecting them in Ivarstead. In fact, with her three companions, she felt safer than she ever had since landing in this frozen country.
Lucan and Camilla were, as expected, ecstatic to have the claw back in their shop. They thanked the travellers profusely for their efforts, and even handed Rebecca a hefty purse of four hundred septims. Felix stopped off to drop in on his friends in the Sleeping Giant Inn briefly before they were back on the road, heading down the mountain to take the eastern road towards Ivarstead. Once they had reached the signposts by the river, they decided to sit down and break for a little while, to rehydrate and catch their breath.
Looking around at the tall pine trees and singing birds around her, Rebecca decided now would be a good time to practice her archery. Digging out her bow from one of the bags atop their new horse, she slotted a steel arrow into place and wandered a little way off the road towards a clump of trees next to the bridge. She liked the feel of the metal in her hands, the way it moved lithely as she did, not too heavy and yet weighty enough to satisfy her as a weapon. The carvings along the sides were ornate, beautiful swirls and bumps in the quicksilver that helped her get her grip as she pulled the string back to the corner of her mouth, just like she had been taught. It felt like having a piece of home with her, casting her mind back to her childhood on summer camps and ranges, where she had always favoured the bow.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes, focusing on a slender branch just a few metres from her. She was about to loose her arrow when she felt the hair raise on the back of her neck, as though someone were standing inches away.
"Hi princess."
Rebecca practically jumped, Felix's breath hot on her neck. He startled her so much that she ended up firing into the eartg a few yards away, missing the pine by miles. She whipped around at him, her green eyes ablaze. "Can't you see I was concentrating?" she barked. Felix only laughed, infuriating her further as she stalked off into the grass, scanning the undergrowth for the arrow she had lost.
"You're so cute when you're mad." Felix sniggered as she returned, shooting him daggers.
Rebecca decided to ignore him and continued to practice. She fitted another arrow into place and drew the string back tight, her elbow nearly catching Felix in the eye as she stepped back. This time Felix let her aim without distraction. The steel tip landed with a reassuring thwack into the tree she had intended. Rebecca blinked in surprise before retrieving it with a little smile of pride.
"Nice shot." Felix commended her.
"Thank you," Rebecca replied stiffly. "Can I ask if there's a reason you ventured over here?"
Felix shrugged innocently, flashing her his pearly whites as he shrugged. "Just your company."
Rebecca loosed another arrow, this time narrowly missing the tree and landing on the ground close by. T'ariq called over to the pair, beckoning them back as him and Angmar got to their feet. Felix and Rebecca walked in silence, a little ways behind the men as they started back on the road, the gentle clip-clopping of the horse echoing between the stony hills.
Rebecca refused to start up a conversation with Felix. In fact, she was almost tempted to demand that he walk with the other two, in case the Khajiit turned around and assumed the worst. For the second time in the last twenty four hours, she caught a faint whiff of that lavender oil from the boy, overpowered a little by the scent of salt and leather.
"So…" Felix whistled. "You're not from Tamriel."
Rebecca frowned. "What are you trying to do?" she asked him.
"I'm trying to get to know you." he smirked. Rebecca forced herself to look away, letting the silence lengthen as he kicked a stone along the path.
"Ok then." He tried again. "What about the Greybeards? Will you tell me about them, or is that a secret too?"
Something in his voice sounded childish, almost like a whine, that made Rebecca look up and concede a smile. Felix noticed and pressed on. "No, really – do you have a thing for old men or is there a reason we're climbing the tallest mountain in Skyrim?"
Rebecca stifled a giggle as he watched her, affection seeping into his warm brown eyes.
"They're masters of the Voice," she explained. "They can teach me to shout, and they've summoned me to their fortress, High Hrothgar, at the Throat of the World."
"Why can't they come down to us?" Felix complained.
"They live in seclusion."
"These Nords," Felix shook his head, grinning. "So dramatic."
Rebecca allowed herself a laugh as they passed the Ritual Stone, avoiding the necromancer that she knew to be lurking there.
"I guess so." She tucked a curly strand of hair behind one ear.
The pair began kicking a stone between the two of them as they marched on down the road. Every now and again Felix would leap to the side to fire her an extra hard shot that forced her to run up ahead, giggling. Eventually she kicked the rock too hard, and it bounced down the road out of their reach. Rebecca looked up to search for it and instead found her heart skipping a beat at the sight of a stone tower looming in the distance.
"T'ariq!" she hissed. Hearing the urgency in her tone, T'ariq stopped in his tracks. She beckoned him over, moving to the side of the road and casting anxious glances at the fort.
"That's Valtheim Towers," she whispered. "There's a whole group of bandits in there, maybe six or more, and one of them is has got some heavy duty armour."
"How do you know for sure?" Angmar came over, his brow furrowed with concern.
T'ariq ignored him. "Can we pass them without a fight?"
Rebecca shook her head. "I don't think so. Not without giving up all our gold, and probably the horse."
The cat was still, mumbling under his breath and counting something on his clawed fingers. After a moment he nodded. "Ok. We go in and take them together, quietly so that we do not alert the group," he pointed at Angmar and Felix, who nodded. "You stay on the ground and find shelter." he finished, looking at Rebecca.
"But-" she protested. T'ariq silenced her with a stern glare.
"Fire some arrows if you must, but do not follow us inside." he ordered her. Rebecca folded her arms, reluctantly agreeing as the three warriors set off, leaving her on the side of the road with the horse and luggage. They stuck to the plan, taking out the guard outside without a sound before breaking into the tower and making their way up towards the walkway above them. Rebecca, refusing to be left on standby, pulled out her bow and arrows and took aim at the biggest bandit, patrolling across the bridge. She steadied her shaking hands, waiting until he turned around, searching for the audible intruders before she let the arrow fly through the air. It landed on his foot, pinging off the steel plate armour harmlessly. But it was enough of a distraction for him to pause, allowing Rebecca to fire another, higher this time, which landed in his neck, staggering him. Felix appeared a moment later and finished the hulking bandit off, slicing at his throat. Rebecca was happy then to be on the ground – at least she didn't have to see the blood.
The trio raced across the bridge to the other tower, leaving the one closest to Rebecca cleared. Tying the horse's lead to a nearby tree, she made her way into the building, searching the chests and drawers for any useful clothing or items that they may have left behind. She grimaced at the body of a Redguard bandit, her eyes still staring at the ceiling above her. Her body was still warm as Rebecca searched through her pockets and boots for any extra gold.
Not daring to cross the walkway yet, she chose instead to go farther up, bagging a slice or two of stale bread that had been left out on the table. She was just about to head up to the top of the tower in search of a chest when a searing pain flashed through her thigh. Rebecca let out a cry and dropped to one knee. She looked down at the focal point of the burning sensation to see an orcish arrow, the head of which was buried in her upper thigh, and glowing orange with flame.
Another shot whizzed past her ear and landed behind, lighting the carpet underneath her on fire. Shuffling herself awkwardly underneath the stair case, Rebecca gritted her teeth against the stabbing waves of pain. Her muscles were seizing up around the shaft of the arrow, but despite the agony, she knew she had to move out of cover, and get a look at her attacker. Jerking to the side, Rebecca rolled out from under the wooden stairs to see a blond bandit on the platform above her, his bow still taut and ready to fire another deadly shot. She ducked as the bolt of fire stuck itself into the floorboards with a hiss. Rebecca saw an opening as he reloaded, her hands warming with the heat of her conjured flames. She closed her eyes, blocking out the smell of charred flesh as she channelled her pain into magic.
Her fireballs exploded around the bandit, one on the wood beneath him and one up above. But despite the shaking and smell of smoke all around him, the bandit hung on, drawing another arrow and aiming down at her with a cold glint in his eyes.
"FUS!"
Rebecca let out a thunderous roar that vibrated deep within her chest, and sent rippling waves of wind rushing up at her assailant. With a yell of panic, the bandit was thrown against the wall behind him. He stumbled forward and came crashing down below, as the board underneath him snapped in two. He landed dazed, but still very much alive, barely a metre from Rebecca. Blood roared in her ears as instinct took over. A screech of pain escaped her as she reached into her boot for her dagger, lunging forward as thick clouds of smoke rose high into the air around them. In one swift movement she had plunged the iron into his throat. Blood, hot and crimson, sprayed her face. The bandit's pale eyes glazed over, fixed on her own as she kneeled above him, her eyes wild as she panted.
In an instant, the adrenaline seemed to fade, and Rebecca was left with only the stabbing pain in her thigh as embers began to fall from the ceiling. Her lungs filled with smoke and she coughed meekly, collapsing on the ground beside her victim as he gurgled and choked on his own blood.