If I had missed a second, the dragon-bone-made-weapon would've been detrimental. The small crater created from the impact due to the giant's strength is enough to tell me that this brute is enraged and I seem to be a scapegoat for its anger. With the debris of snow still hovering along with the tremors from the strike, I quickly make use of the giant's lack of speed and rush right behind it, to its blindside, and to the proper area I need to hit. Muramasa glows as I reaffirm my grip, the red shade letting off the haunting sign of its hunger, and as I bring the sharp end across the giant's calf, the tough skin of the colossal figure did not deter the damage I had intended to give it. It stumbles after letting out a screeching bellow of pain, falling to one knee, leaving me to once again contend with the ground trembling below me. I don't dabble in the aftermath of this titan's girth, instead I attack, using its own prone position. Running along its back, and with another swift slash, Muramsa cuts through the back of its neck. Dropping its weapon before letting out one more painful howl, I jump off the colossus as it hits the ground face first with a loud 'thud'.

"Feed."

With my back facing the dead giant, I open my left palm and allow Azura's Star to become tangible through absorbing the soul of my kill. It takes only a few seconds until I can feel its weight as the gem finally gains solid form. The last of the purple energy passes over me and into the Star; the vibrant glow it lets out is an indication that it can no longer support any more souls, which means that my hunt is over. Admittedly, I didn't intend to have a giant hasten my chore. I was more or less searching for wolves, trolls, and whatever else was wondering close to Heljarchen Hall to fill Azura's Star. This giant seems to have had its sight on me. Of course it was inevitable that the battle ended the way it did but I suppose I got some clarification that the rapport between mammoths and giants have more sentiments behind them…

I suppose.

Putting the Daedric Soul Gem away, I decide that it's time to finish my preparations before venturing off to the real task at hand. With Arvak appearing, I jump on his back and with as much speed he possesses, I ride back home.

I noticed the strange sight from a distance and my first thought was that another brave and foolish soul had dared attack my home in the name of whatever Divine or stupidity they abide by. Whispering the words to detect life, I merely see two auras and judging from the way they are acting at the moment, there seems to be no danger. Senna is still inside the house while the Snow Queen… well, Senna did mention that she would be caring for the woman so I suppose a bath was in the Priestess' list of 'how to take care' of a stranger. I'm more than willing to gamble that the strange ice pillars decorating one side of my house are most likely her way of protecting herself, which doesn't entirely sit well with my sense of aesthetics. As I draw closer, I could tell that the Snow Queen is reacting to my presence and it comes to no surprise that she would act the way she did and she will only get more defensive the closer I get. Getting off of Arvak, the front door opens and Senna greets me with that look that 'tells' me to not gawk. I shrug my shoulder slightly and in response she gives me a sterner look, which of course almost causes me to roll my eyes. Acknowledging that I'll adhere to her silent 'request', I make my way inside the house but not before studying the enchanted ice that are uprooted from the ground, acting like walls for the Snow Queen. Through the semi transparent form of the structure, my eyes finds her as hers finds mine… through this obscure eye contact, I once again can catch her vulnerability, her fears, and the innocence that is so distinct in the world of Skyrim. Senna clears her throat and I turn to her, nodding my head before walking pass her.

"Azura is filled, I assume," Senna asks as she closes the door behind her.

"Faster than I anticipated," the giant's stench still lingers in my mind; his death was unnecessary but his rage wasn't to be sated by killing off every wolf in the area. Wonder why he chose me to be his next scapegoat?

"I didn't get the chance to tell you that I have made a batch of poison. The one that you requested a few days ago."

One of the things that people don't know about Senna is that she isn't just a priestess of Dibella. While she had spent the good part of her life devoted to one of the Nines, Senna has other skills that were never truly put to full use until she started living with me. Suffice to say, there are more than one occasion that I deem her skills necessary in my endeavors. This is one of those said occasions.

"It's in your quarters," she says as I pass her alchemy table.

"After all these years living in Skyrim, giants still boggle my mind," instead of replying to her words, I vocalize my thoughts out loud. "I don't know if I was attacked by one because it was mourning the loss of its mammoth, or simply because I was the closest thing to pummel."

For a moment Senna doesn't say anything.

"You need some sleep," she tells me sternly, "the lack of it is getting to you."

And I wish that Senna didn't say anything at all rather than that unnecessary quip she just threw at my direction. Not bothering with it anymore, I make my way towards my basement, enjoying the feeling of privacy that this room provides. Though as usual, I don't have the luxury of resting. The Snow Queen is a priority. The moment I laid eyes on her, I felt something and with the Merchant mentioning that the woman's clothing have passed an oblivion gate, it only confirms the thought that this woman doesn't belong in this world. That entails a series of chaos, thus I must find the means to bring her back wherever she came from. Of course it has to be me. Of course whatever strange humor fate has, it sends me a vision of my 'failure', which doesn't entirely leave me with a whole lot of options. It has to be me that deals with her presence. Without really anything to go with and not completely trusting her, my first thought is perhaps finding something on her ship, something that might be able to help me; but Solitude is a good journey ahead and preparing myself is the first step of business.

Vials of poison that Senna prepared, a few blood potions, and some coins are all placed neatly inside the enchanted pouch that Nocturnal rewarded me with. The name 'Abyss' for a Daedric Artifact in the form of a pouch is quite fitting since it seems to not have a limit as to how much items I can place inside despite its small and convenient shape. I can't imagine gallivanting Skyrim carrying all those dragon bones and looted weapons without this pouch… must be an encumbering task, I imagine. Placing the Abyss on my belt, I unsheathe Muramasa, placing it on the table along side Avarice. With Azura's star on my hand, I use the souls I have captured to replenish both my blade and my crossbow, causing the soul gem to lose its physical form again once my weapons are filled. Sheathing Muramasa and Avarice, I make my way to the other room, pass the Blades Armor displayed on the door, and towards the room where the furnace, the grindstone, and my work bench resides. To the far left of the room, I open one of my many storage units where my bolts are held. I quickly replenish before taking one last gander at the room. It's been unused for a while, and perhaps when I find the time I'll go back to working on weapons I have looted… it's a fun pass time, one that I often do not spend enough time doing. Too many things going on, I suppose. The arrival of the Snow Queen and the warning that came with her will definitely set things back for me…

Then again, when was the last time my own time was mine? But is the vision I saw some days ago and a crazed Dunmer's words really that foreboding? Am I truly just bound to prophecies and inadequacies that the whole world revolves on my blade and my voice? I have often asked myself redundantly; it's almost a habit of mine… questions that linger and remain like a companion. Deciding that moping over these thoughts is asinine, I make way back to the kitchen where Senna and the Snow Queen are.

"You do like to take your time," I was hoping Senna would drop the jests and just remain neutral while our 'guest' is in the house, but no. I decide that entertaining her humor will just prolong the nonsensical conversation that I need not get into at the moment.

"We have to get to your ship," instead I go right into what needs to be discussed and done. "Let's just hope that the High Queen will comply. Your captors docked the ship on Solitude grounds, it's probably confiscated right now."

"Do you intend to ask nicely, Onyx?"

While I could ignore the Snow Queen's attempt to talk and inquire, ignoring Senna is almost impossible. She should know better, and she does, though she, just like Serana and Kharjo, has a certain comfort level that seems to pry into my patience. Me merely telling her not to start her sarcasm only encourages her to sprout out more unnecessary comments about my rapport with Elisif; again something I need not from her.

"This is absurd," the sound of another voice aside from Senna elicits an amused expression inside my masque. With that, both Senna and I turn towards the Snow Queen as she speaks, "whoever has possession of my property would surely understand that there was kidnapping involved. Besides, all they have to do is recognize my flag and hear news of Arendelle's missing Queen and they'd understand."

I don't claim to know every corner of Tamriel. In fact, Cyrodiil and Black marsh are probably the other parts of this continent that I can say I have truly 'visited' aside from Skyrim, which is now where I consider home. Living my life here, I have never heard of Arendelle. Having lived a good few of my younger years in Cyrodiil, nothing about it as well, hiding in Blackmarsh produced nothing of the sort either, and despite how wide Tamriel may be, a place where it keeps a strange mage with undeniable powers in the form of ice and snow would definitely be known all over the continent. She either really passed through an Oblivion gate, from another continent, or she is insane; the prior thought has more evidence, though insanity isn't a far fetched notion either. There were more than enough stories of Sheogorath's gates being opened to let a few lucky victims wander in only to come out lost out of their mind. Though that passion she projects... it's difficult to consider that insanity.

"Well that remains to be one of the problems we face, Snow Queen. No one has ever heard of Arendelle before so the chances of anyone knowing you are missing on this end is pretty slim to none."

My response immediately causes the woman's eyes to widen and it's plainly obvious that more than a few emotions are stirring inside of her. She stands up, the sound of the chair screeching on the ground accompanies her frustrated expression. Her gestures more than insinuates that she isn't very happy with my response nor is Senna.

"Onyx!" I shrug my shoulders at Senna's admonishing.

"What do you mean no one has ever heard of Arendelle?"

"Did I speak in riddles? This Arendelle of yours is a foreign place… one that doesn't seem to exist anywhere near Skyrim or in Tamriel."

The Snow Queen pauses and I watch the emotions course through her face, those eyes wide, staring at me with anger and confusion. It is at this moment I take note that her clothing is lacking the regal burgundy cloak, which is hanging on the wall behind her. While she is missing some of the royal feel with the missing clothing article, her face, despite all those emotions plaguing her, still has that command presence. Her royal lineage I can still believe even if it's hard to swallow the idea that she went through an Oblivion gate.

"Tamriel? Skyrim? Could someone please be a bit more informative?" If she isn't insane with questions like that, then I can almost guarantee that she'll drive me insane.

"Molag Bal take me!"

It's hard not to believe that the woman came from some other unknown place with how much she doesn't know. I would also take note of the idea that she could be playing a ruse, but that much confusion requires a whole lot of acting that no one in Skyrim could possibly perform. Of course it's also quite frustrating that almost every single subject is a foreign idea. I doubt I can hold a conversation with her without ruining my patience. Of course Senna calling my name once again is her attempt to try and calm my nerves.

"What? A woman who knows nothing about Alduin," I reply to Senna, "of Skyrim and Tamriel? What would you have me do?"

"You saved her, you brought her here, now we must help her."

"I am helping her, but I can't say it's exactly the easiest thing to accomplish when we have someone who didn't even know that dragons exist!"

"Excuse me," the woman cuts in, "but I'm standing right here!"

My first thought is to ignore her, but then the need to say something sarcastic became more dominant and I opened my mouth to speak.

"Elsa," but Senna speaks first, "is there anything at all you can tell us? Anything your captors said to you?"

Elsa…

As Elsa speaks about her captivity, I pay attention to her. Not necessarily at her words since they really give me nothing to work with, but I pay close attention to her; her facial expression and the way her body language adds more emotion to her words. There is a soft innocence in the woman… in Elsa; but there is also anguish as well as sadness that spins within that small frame of hers. If it weren't for that fragile face, I would believe that this 'Snow Queen' could be my failure… but the way she handled herself in battle…. Not plausible.

"Well that dunmer perhaps could have been useful," I finally say, "though we both know what happened to him."

"You slaughtered everyone else! Including Hans who could've been informative!" Then that fragile and sad face disappears and turns to anger as she responds to me.

The Hans she speaks of must be that red haired man who has the pompous look to him. Regardless, there isn't much this conversation can offer so I decide to make it known after Senna's third attempt to keep the conversation to a more peaceful decibel.

"Well it's pretty clear that the only thing we need to do is reach that ship, one way or another."

"Aside from the obvious use of transportation, anything else in that ship that keeps you adamant at the idea of going to it?"

I could try and fabricate the story since … Elsa is standing right there. Though, I suppose it's no use as of right now. That ship is probably the only other place I can find something. Besides, Elsa's reaction could be the definitive of another clue that I am missing.

"That ship went through an oblivion gate. How, why, where, or who, I have no idea," I pause before continuing, letting the weight of that message carry itself. "The only real base I can start on is perhaps there is some kind of conduit inside that ship that can solidify the accusations of such a statement."

"The merchant told you this?"

"Yes."

Senna gives me a flabbergasted look; the expression alone is enough to tell me that she knows my plan makes sense but something else is behind it that I am not saying. Though I know she won't question it as much.

"Then that's all the solidification you need. He may be a daedra, but there are certain things I feel that he won't lie about if it doesn't benefit him."

And those words coming from her mouth pretty much tells me that I gained her full approval despite me withholding the vision and Gilaro's words of the Snow Queen being my 'failure'; not that I needed any kind of permission from her or from anyone, but it's a small solace that at least one person in all of Skyrim can at least put some trust in how I handle things. With a small nod, I turn around and make my way towards the door but it seems that someone doesn't like that plan.

"I hope you don't think you are going on your own?"

There was a stark demand in the way that question came out and it causes me to stop immediately. In that instance, I can feel the vibe of the room shift; it was already stern before with the nature of the conversation but now I can feel tension grinding between the three of us. Slowly turning my head, I meet Elsa's gaze. While she stands there with a strong posture that concurs with her unyielding expression, I can decipher intimidation easily and she projects it potently enough for me to take note of it. It's amusing actually… that fire in her blue eyes is something I consider very attracting.

"You seem to have forgotten something, Snow Queen," I could call her by her name but I haven't been properly introduced, "outside the walls of my home is a world where you seem to be too inept to handle so the answer is pretty clear."

"You honestly believe that I would let you—"

"Let me? Woman," the demanding tone I found charming but the idea of 'letting' me do something? No. That part I can't let go and I let it be known, "I do not need you to let me do anything. Besides the point is that I'm doing this for your own good."

"Let her accompany you, Onyx."

Then speaks Senna who is apparently going against my wishes. I let out a loud, audible sigh as I stare at her, baffled at the fact that she is actually siding with this woman.

"Senna, you do grasp the possible consequences if she comes with me?" While Elsa may not be familiar of the dangers that lingers, I know Senna is more than aware of it and I am hoping she would use that to reason.

"I do. But I also understand that Elsa has every reason to go with you."

Every reason she says. What reason? I take a moment to linger my attention towards Elsa and notice her determination. I have the same conclusion in regards to her: a naïve and angry woman possessing the power of frost magic beyond my understanding and supposedly carrying the fate of my catastrophe.

"I doubt she'll like Arvak," I say as a final attempt to have Senna stand by my side in this.

"Seems that Arvak has no qualms with her. His flames didn't seem to harm her on the way home. Though I believe Frost is just a call away if Elsa isn't too fond to ride Arvak at the moment."

Realizing that the argument is no longer on my favor and not caring to perpetuate it any more than it already has, I make my way towards the door and into the outside world where I take a deep breath. I'm sure my last words about leaving immediately were enough to give the point that I am agreeing to disagree. Trying to rid myself of the thoughts of that conversation, I concentrate my mind on the unforgiving land of Skyrim; the night itself holds enough precarious threats in every corner and with the last few hours being as strange as they were, I'm sure there will be more than enough excitement to nudge at me in this little journey towards Solitude. Truthfully, I'm more resenting the idea of having to talk to Elisif about gaining formalities of investigating that ship. Though I would imagine I can always adhere to less political methods if need be.

"I am ready, whenever you are."

The sound of the door closing joins Elsa's voice and I slightly turn towards her. While I notice the addition of her burgundy cloak, I make no vocal assessment of it. Instead I take a few steps through the hampering snow of this land.

"Senna mentions that this horse of yours, Arvak, is it?"

"Yes, what of him?"

"She stated that his flames cannot harm—"

"No. Not as long as one is invited to mount him," whether that is verbal or my mental approval, Arvak complies. "But Arvak will not be your horse for this journey."

"Oh? You have another horse?"

The tone of her voice insinuates that she dreads what other horse I may have in my possession. I can tell she is searching the stable for such, but of course it's empty. The domesticated horse that Senna often rides doesn't exactly stay put. In fact, there are times when Frost is a nuisance.

"I have many."

After answering Elsa, I whistle, letting the piercing sound carry itself throughout the open space where any beast can hear that call. Though the said sound does not need to travel far. Frost doesn't venture out where my call can't reach him and in no time, the familiar sounds of his hooves starts coming my direction. Tall and sturdy with color that resembles the dirt-ridden snow, Frost gallops towards me and I meet him halfway where I pet his head as soon as we get in contact. As he always does when seeing me, he nudges my arm with his head, neighing in a friendly and content manner. Not a lot of horses are like Frost, and I must say that for a steed that often wanders away from the stable, he has kept himself alive and have always responded to me calling him.

"Wow," Elsa meekly walks behind me, taking little steps to get close to Frost. "What a magnificent horse."

"Come closer, Frost is friendly to those he deems as such."

"Frost?"

I withhold a chuckle as I respond, "fitting name for a horse you are borrowing doesn't it, Snow Queen?"

By now she is standing by me, stopping from her slow and cautious progress towards Frost. Something I must have said annoyed her, obvious by the expression on her face.

"My name is Elsa," and there it is, the introduction of her name formally, "not Snow Queen. It would go a long way for you to at least acknowledge me by my name."

While I stand firm that this endeavor won't require a whole lot of formalities, the knowledge of names is a start. With a nod, I reciprocate the gesture by telling her my own.

"Onyx."

By now Elsa is close to Frost. The steed responds in a rather friendly manner as I predicted, he nudges Elsa, which leads to her petting his long head, running her hands through his snow white hair on the back of his neck. Frost seems to enjoy her handling and I already have it in my head that she at least has been around horses.

"Senna told me your name," she says with her eyes on me despite her still petting Frost. "I suppose now we have both properly introduced ourselves."

"I suppose we did," what follows is an awkward moment where neither of us doesn't really know what to say. As I said, introduction is the most formality I would say we truly require. "Let's get Frost ready for the ride and after that, we'll go."

Not much else was said as we prepare Frost. As I was about to ask her if she knows how to ride horses, Elsa makes her way on top of Frost, and despite all that clothing and heavy cloak, she gracefully managed to sit herself on top of him. I give her a look (mostly sarcasm) of approval as she seems to have a proud expression on her face. Getting myself on Arvak, I gesture with my head towards the direction we need to take and with that, I take the lead. Elsa follows, riding beside me and we inadvertently make eye contact… well, as much eye contact as she can get through the Masque. I'm still adamant that this is a rather worse idea than it is actually beneficial, but it's too late for that. Somehow, with some odd logic, I agreed to it and so here I am now: in the vast plains of Skyrim riding with a woman who seems to not even know what or where Skyrim is.

With the exception of one or two sabre cats, the journey has been somewhat quiet, at least for me anyways. For Elsa, every sound, every movement, and just about everything in sight sent her in such an alarm that even Frost complained. Mostly because she is emanating undeniable coldness that even a native beast of Skyrim couldn't endure. Her reactions are amusing to say the least. Even the sight of a giant feral cat being shot down with a crossbow seems out of the norm for her. Dare I describe the hilarity of seeing her face's reaction to a dragon that was flying some distance away? Of course for someone who just found out that dragons exists, the shock of having one decorate the night sky is something to fear. Of course the natives weren't the only things that evoked a reaction out of Elsa. The land itself seemed to have taken her breath away for reasons I do not know. The structures, especially Rannveigh's Fast, the largest structure that we have come across on this path seemed to have piqued her interest more notably. The myriads of things she must be thinking about and want to ask will probably further enhance my amusement for this.

"Over there," I signal her towards the body of water. "A quick rest is all Frost needs."

Elsa says nothing but follows my gesture. Compliance seems to be the one thing she will keep giving me at the moment since I know she realized early in our journey that it would be prudent to do so. I'm still adamant that this task would be better off done on my own, but again, satisfying Senna does sometimes occur. At the very least Elsa knows how to ride a horse and if it comes down to it, her powers, as unique as they are would prove to be of some assistance. Not that I would need her assistance at any point given time anyways. Getting off Arvak, I aid Elsa dismounting before leading Frost to the waters where he can quench his thirst. It has been a non-stop trek so it wouldn't be a bad idea to get a breather. The night still remains dominant and the late hours allow me more time away from the sun, so even I can take a moment. Elsa however isn't entirely embracing the idea of rest, as she remains curious (and scared), her attention wandering all over the vast tundra surrounding us.

"You're freezing the ground," I say to her, startling her. "Will there be a moment that you aren't freezing everything to the point where even a Nord won't complain about how cold it is?"

Elsa looks at the ground before looking at me. Her agitation from my tone is still obvious with the reaction, but more or less she's more concerned with being so vulnerable in a place where everything holds an uncertain level of danger. Part of me believes that she regrets coming with me. She should regret coming with me.

"I seem to have lost a bit of my control ever since I woke up in this place."

She answers with concern, which makes me curious as to the idea of 'control' and what this place may have done. Skyrim does a lot of things to people, I suppose. Skyrim is the place that actually revealed to me what that tugging weight was inside my chest. It answered the questions as to why I had certain things peculiar about me even for being an amalgam of a Breton and Dunmer lineage. It showed me my fate but ironically brought me more questions. More riddles to solve… Elsa is another one of those said riddles, it would seem.

"HELP," from the distance, someone calls out. "SOMEONE! HELP US!"

Once again Elsa's reaction defines what her powers does next. A wave of frost spreads from her feet causing Frost to neigh from almost being hit. Her attention points toward the distressed voice before she turns to me, seeking some sort of action. I simply shrug.

"I certainly hope you're not just going to ignore that?!"

"And I certainly hope you aren't thinking of doing what I think you are going to attempt to do."

The fear and the uncertainty diminish and all that stands in front of me is anger. For a few moments we stand there staring each other down before the said voice calls for help once more, this time with more desperation. That was all Elsa needed apparently to spring her into action. With her cloak swooshing behind her, she runs towards the direction of the voice, completely ignoring the idea that she is still in a very foreign land and responding to what could very well be a trap for any willing idiot to step into it.

"Asinine," is the word I utter before whispering the Thu'um to allow me to detect life.

Past her unique aura, I am able to see that there are four men-like movements not too far away. One of the auras is definitely running, young, desperate, and injured, while the other three are stalking the poor soul. There are no signs of urgency in the hunters by the way their auras are acting. Obviously they are confident that their prey will not produce a whole lot of threat or get away. By now however, Elsa draws near and she has made no attempts to silence her movements thus making the hunters stop on their tracks as they hear and felt the movement of another. Shaking my head, I decide that I should at least get a full view of this. With the black smoke of Boethiah's blessing covering me, I rush towards the scene.

"Who's there," one of the hunters calls out.

"Please," I witness a boy running towards Elsa and she catches him in her arms without any thought that it could be a trick. "Please…. Please help us…"

I stand not too far away, hidden by shadows, and getting a good enough view of the situation. From where I am I notice the injuries this young Redguard boy had gained from his captors. The desperation in the way he clings on to Elsa is another testament of the suffering he had endured from the three who are now stalking Elsa and him with sinister grins etched in their faces. One Redguard, a Dunmer, and a Khajiit. It doesn't take much to decipher that they are scavengers, obvious by the combination of their armor and weapons.

"It's alright," Elsa comforts the boy despite the situation, "you're alright."

"Oh what is this," the dunmer had already pulled out his blade before speaking with the same curiosity that is etched on his face.

"Stay back," threatening from the position she's in and clutching the boy doesn't make her intimidating at all. "I won't let you harm the boy anymore than you already have!"

I have the urge to bury my face into my palm but refrain from doing so.

"Noble blood," the female Khajiit snickers. "She would make for a good price."

"The cage won't be a fitting place for her to sleep in," the Redguard adds in with words that confirm what I assumed they are involved in: slave trading.

"She'll be sleeping in my—!"

The Dunmer doesn't get the chance to finish that sentence since Elsa makes the first move, covering the dark elf with ice, leaving his face protruding out of his ice-body prison. While it takes away movements altogether, Elsa does make two lethal mistake and the first one is giving her two other assailants the time to react from such an attack.

"She's a mage!"

The Redguard is already on his way with his weapon leading the charge and the Khajiit is preparing her bow to fire an arrow. Bracing the young boy close to her, a wall of ice blocks the arrow, which leaves Elsa to deal with the coming Redguard by propelling him away with a force of frost magic from her hand. He lands some distance away with a thud, most likely encased in an ice cocoon like the Dunmer. Meanwhile the archer tries her hardest to get a clear shot but with a mere touch on the ground, Elsa sends a trail of ice that slithers towards the Khajiit and encases her, trapping her effectively, allowing only the complaints of being cold to escape her mouth. As I remain hidden, I have just witnessed Elsa take care of three reckless and ignorant criminals without even letting the boy go from her arms. I won't lie, I'm partially impressed but the first lethal mistake she committed is going to catch up real soon.

"Please," the boy keeps sobbing, "please help us…"

"You're alright," Elsa comforts the child as he nuzzles to her, completely focusing her attention on him. "We'll help you."

I cock a brow at the usage of 'we' as Elsa takes the boy into her arms walks towards the direction of where we were. To some degree, it's kind of a serene scene with a woman carrying a young boy in the safety of her arms. As I said, I was slightly impressed with how she handled the likes of them without even causing a single mortal wound. Though oblivious at the fact that the Dunmer is a battlemage, the flame cloak has been slowly melting his ice prison. I had felt him summon his ancestral gift and the common fire spell, which, truth to be told is still rather weak since it's taking him this long to even get somewhere. He's lucky he wasn't dealing with me to begin with, though that luck has run dry. Having loaded Avarice with a bolt a few minutes ago, I aim as soon as the Dunmer breaks free and makes his attempt at taking Elsa's life. He only managed two steps before falls down from having a bolt strike him in the head. Elsa only got the chance to react as soon as she heard his body fall to the ground.

"Running blindly to a stranger's aid is what you do in Arendelle, Elsa?"

By now I make my presence be known as I load Avarice once more. She stares at the dead body of her former assailant not too far away from her cloak before turning to me with narrowed eyes.

"You were there the whole time?!"

"More or less," I aim the crossbow at the Khajiit who tries her best to plead despite the cold taking over most of her senses. "A little advice," I shoot, "don't make these mistakes again."

She turns away the moment the bolt hits the Khajiit, her hands covering the boy's frightened eyes. Summoning a spectral wolf, I send the familiar towards the direction of the Redguard whom Elsa sent flying at a certain direction. In his prone position, it would be easy enough for the ghastly wolf to slay him.

"You could have helped the moment you heard him scream for aid!"

"I thought we agreed to go to Solitude so that we can gain some footing towards sending you home?"

It didn't take long until my familiar finds its prey. The agonizing scream only lasted a few seconds as well. Wolves, summoned or natural usually knows how to go for the proper vital areas if given the chance and so it took the Redguard by the throat but not before allowing it a moment of fright. Hearing his scream, Elsa cringes, once again comforting the child.

"You have no sympathy," it wasn't a question this time, it was a statement. A statement with a very very cold glare to accompany the words. "They would have tortured this poor boy some more if they caught him."

"Luckily they didn't."

Luck. Oh Senna, would you be smiling now and preach to me about how Dibella has not given up on me yet?

"You… are the Dragonborn," the young Redguard manages to say between his sobs.

"I am."

The boy makes a movement from Elsa's hold and I can tell that the Snow Queen already had a hard time holding his weight when the adrenaline started wearing off. The boy is no Orc or Nord so his weight wouldn't be an issue for the norm but if one were built like Elsa, I would assume strength would not be one of her redeeming qualities. Slowly lowering herself and getting the hint of the boy's movements, Elsa allows the boy to stand on his own feet despite the painful effort of doing so. At the youngest he is six, but I can gamble he is older; though age as I know isn't usually a factor to someone's mentality. One can look like a child and yet have the thought process of an adult, because of the things he has seen. The majority of children I have come across have seen and felt things that no child ever should have. If this little boy wasn't part of that unlucky group before, he surely is now. Just the look in his eyes tells it all.

"Mama and papa tell me that you aren't a hero."

That isn't the first time I heard that and truthfully, I have disclaimed the songs and poems of me being one. Placing Avarice on its holster behind me, I abstain from responding; instead I stare at the child as he stares at me. He waits for an answer and I'm sure Elsa does as well.

"Can you prove them wrong?"

He points pass me and towards the area where I would assume is where I am supposed to prove his parents wrong. There are plenty of things that could come out of the idea of 'helping' this child and 'proving' his parents wrong. Truthfully, I wish I never came across this situation, but thanks to Elsa I'm now part of it. Sighing to myself, I take a glance at Elsa who has a very firm expression. Obviously there is only one answer in her mind and to my dismay I doubt she can be persuaded otherwise.

"Your parents are right," I answer, "I'm no hero."

"You're not going to help him?!"

The young boy deserves credit for his ability to hold in his emotions. Elsa on the other hand is a different story and once again she glances at my direction with narrowed, dangerous eyes.

"I didn't say that," I turn towards the direction where the boy pointed. "However the idea of 'hero' in Skyrim's eyes isn't how I deal with slavers and anyone I deem needs slaying. So in that sense, I can't prove your parents wrong, child."

There is no sense in ignoring this now. Around the corner is another popular little hole that is infamous for these kinds of dealings. Eventually I would have dealt with it… I suppose eventually came tonight, no thanks to the Snow Queen and her unorthodox ways of dealing with things.

To Be Continued.