A/N
Sorry for the long wait. I was having trouble getting motivated to write this chapter. Also, I realized that the story was moving reallllllly slow, so I hope things pick up a bit here! There's finally some action, plus it's much longer than the other chapters. Thank you for bearing with me :) Please review if you like it!
The trip to Whiterun was quicker and more pleasant than Remel anticipated. She and Rune took turns sitting in the wagon and walking beside Zedde, Sigaar's surly guard, a tall Nord woman with a stony expression and a sharp sword at her belt. The wagon was cramped--full of barrels of salted fish, kegs of Black-Briar Mead, piles of wolf and fox furs, and wooden crates of sweet golden honeycomb. The latter, Remel was sure, would sell for a small fortune, due to Goldenglow's recent 'accident'.
She started to wear the hunting bow on her back, which was uncomfortable at first, but she quickly became used to its weight. Niruin had shown her how to string and unstring it, wax the string, oil the wood, and check the arrows for wear. Of course, she didn't know how to shoot the damn thing, but she wouldn't need to yet, not with Zedde stoically guarding the wagon day and night.
They spent the first night at a little place called Heartwood Mill. Remel and Rune each paid the weary mill worker a handful of septims for a bowl of warm soup and a place by the firepit outside; Sigaar offered a sack of dried fish and a tiny piece off the honeycomb. They slept in bedrolls around the large firepit, listening to the rush of the waterwheel. The next night found them at Ivarstead, where Sigaar stayed at the inn. wanting to save money, Remel and Rune crawled under the parked carriage and slept there, curled up in their bedrolls and mostly sheltered from the wind and light rain.
The following evening, just before sunset, they reached Whiterun. Remel sat up straight on the back of the cart, staring; she had never seen a place so grand as the castle that towered over the city, dominating the plains with a quiet majesty. Even Windhelm, the City of Kings, didn't approach the grace and awe of Whiterun.
Sigaar drove them right up to the gates so he could begin to unload his wares. Remel thanked him for the safe trip, then she and Rune made their way up the broad cobbled streets, looking for the Bannered Mare. It dominated the market square, a squat but still elegant building; the sounds coming from inside indicated without a doubt that it was the place they were looking for.
Remel heaved her bag higher on her shoulder and exchanged a glance with Rune. He was tired, wrinkles under his hazel eyes, but he smiled at her and his face softened. "Are you ready?" He said in his kind voice.
"I guess I have to be," she responded, and opened the tavern door.
The inn was packed. A bard strummed a merry tune in one corner; mercenaries and shopkeepers crowded around the fire, telling bawdy tales; a serving girl darted here and there, bringing drinks and food to those who requested it. The noise and stuffy air was overwhelming. Remel pushed through it, making her way to the counter.
"I need a room," she said, shouting over the noise. "Two of us, a few days."
"I've just got one room available," the matronly innkeeper responded, her own voice raised. "It's got a double bed. The bunks in the back are all full."
Remel glanced at Rune, who shrugged. She pulled out her coin purse. "How much?"
The innkeeper named a borderline exorbitant price, and Remel grunted, counting out the coins. Tonilia had sent them with plenty of gold for the trip, but Remel didn't have to be happy about it. Almost half their gold, gone for a simple place to stay.
"Soup's hot," the innkeeper concluded. "Let Saadia know if you want any."
Remel nodded her thanks, then she and Rune trotted up the stairs. It was mildly quieter up there, though the noise and smoke from the fire floated upwards and settled around the bed. Remel peeked out over the tavern area; they had a little balcony, complete with its own table, from which they could watch the comings and goings of the inn.
Rune was organizing his things when she returned to the bedroom, the contents of his bag spread out across the big double bed that dominated the room. "I don't see the man you're looking for. Any idea what he looks like?"
Remel shrugged. "I'll ask around."
"I'll come with you." Rune quickly put his things away and they made their way downstairs. Remel snagged the serving girl on her way by.
"Do you know of anyone named Mallus?" She inquired, and the frightened-looking redguard simply pointed toward the kitchen. Remel exchanged a glance with Rune, and they headed into the smaller back room, where a dark-haired imperial sat at a table alone, drinking.
"Piss off," he said, before either of them had a chance to speak.
"Maven sent us," Remel said quickly, taking a seat in the chair across from him. His bleary eyes brightened a bit with recognition, but quickly darkened again, suspicion crossing his face.
"Don't know what you're talking about."
Remel glanced at Rune, who sighed and pulled up the sleeve on his right arm. Tattooed across his forearm, dark against his pale skin, was the Guild mark, a diamond encasing a circle.
Mallus nodded and sighed, sitting back and setting down his drink.
"All right, all right. So you're here for the Honningbrew job." He glanced between the two of them, and one eyebrow went up. "You aren't much to look at, that's the truth."
"Just give us the details," Rune growled.
Remel listened intently as Mallus explained the situation. "The meadery owner, Sabjorn, is scheduled to hold a tasting with the captain of the guard, but the meadery is invested with skeevers. Nasty things. Sabjorn is frantic to get rid of the things, and that's where you come in. You'll...happen by and offer to take care of the pest problem for Sabjorn. He's got the pest poison all ready, I made sure of that. Take care of the skeevers, and while you're at it, dump some of the rat poison into the mead vat."
Remel leaned back, startled. "Won't that kill the guard captain?" She wasn't an advocate of murder.
"No, no, no. It's not strong enough for that, not diluted as it will be in the vat of mead. It'll just give the stuff a kick, if you know what I mean. It should hardly have any negative effects."
Remel nodded, thinking through the plan. It was convoluted, that was for sure, but it didn't seem too hard.
"So the skeever tunnels lead to the brewery?" Rune confirmed, and Mallus nodded.
"The little beasts have been growing their tunnel network for weeks. I made sure both paths were open, to the brewery and back. You should have no trouble getting there." He paused. "Make sure you well and truly clear out the things," he iterated. "Maven wants to take over the place, and it won't go well for you if it's still infested with pests after all this is done."
"Fine." Remel nodded. "When is the tasting?"
"Tomorrow night. But the sooner you get it done, the better." He paused, as though thinking, and then added, "Be careful. These aren't...regular skeevers, that'll run and hide after a good kick. They're fairly vicious, and their bite has a nasty venom to it. I don't want you to fail, but I don't want to report to Maven that her pets got killed on the job, either."
Remel rolled her eyes and stood up. "Thanks for the heads up. We'll find you when we're done."
Mallus made a "harrumph" noise as she and Rune slipped out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.
Remel sat on the bed with a sigh, pulling her pack toward her and rifling through it. She had a few potions that she'd made before they left—two for strength, two that heightened the senses, and a few that sped healing, but if what Mallus said was true and the skeevers were vicious and venomous, she'd need a few more, plus other assorted medical supplies. She voiced all this to Rune, who nodded in agreement.
"The woman who runs the alchemist's shop here is supposed to be quite skilled," he said by way of reply. "Maybe you could go ask her for help brewing tomorrow. Vex sent me with a few other jobs here, while we're in town. I'll do those while you're at the shop."
Remel nodded; it was a solid plan. She hoped the alchemist wouldn't question exactly why she needed a number of healing potions and poison antidotes.
With a sigh, she shoved her pack onto the floor, shed her guild coat, and curled up under the blankets on one side of the bed. Rune moved around the room for another moment, then climbed in on the other side of the bed and yawned. Remel scooted a little closer to him furtively, trying to absorb some of his body heat.
She thought she wouldn't sleep, due to the noise drifting up from the tavern below, but within a few moments she slipped off into a gentle doze.
When Remel awoke, she realized she was tucked against Rune's side, with his warm arm wrapped around her. She lay deathly still, her breathing shallow, wondering exactly how they had gotten into this situation, and exactly how she was going to get herself out of it.
The body beside her shifted as Rune groaned and stretched, and Remel took the opportunity to roll away, back to her own side of the bed, and then further. She dropped onto the floor with a dull thunk and lay there for a moment, studying the grain in the floorboards. She didn't want to think about how warm it had been right there beside him, how safe she had felt with his arm wrapped around her...
Stop being sappy, she scolded herself, and rose. She changed her clothes in record time, strapped her dagger to her belt and the hunting bow to her back, and slipped down the stairs and out the door, foregoing breakfast in favor of distance.
The world outside was foggy. She could barely see to the well in the center of the market square. Despite that, it was busy, with shoppers bustling around, their voices subdued, lost in the fog. She approached the old woman selling jewelry and asked where to find the alchemist's shop.
A moment later, she slipped in the door of Arcadia's Cauldron. The shopkeeper, Arcadia, greeted her with a smile. "Can I help you, dear?"
Remel approached the counter, returning the smile. "I need your help," she said honestly. "A friend and I were hired for a difficult job, and I was hoping you could help me brew some potions. I have a little experience, but, well, I'm self taught." She gave Arcadia her best guileless smile, and watched as the woman's heart melted at the sight of the poor young wood elf before her.
"Of course, my dear. Let's get you ready to go."
A good number of hours later, Remel's eyes and back ached from bending over the alchemy table, but she had a dozen new potions of different uses and strengths. Arcadia also sent her with instructions to pick some tundra cotton outside the city. The stuff was ultra-absorbent, and could stuff a wound to quickly stop bleeding. On the way back to the inn, Remel stopped at the general store and bought an old shirt, which she promptly tore into pieces for bandages.
As soon as Remel entered the Bannered Mare, her stomach made its complaints known. She realized she hadn't eaten anything yet that day, and took a seat at the counter. The tavern room was markedly different than it had been the night before; the fire burned low, and only a few patrons sat in shadowed corners. The bard sat at a table, taking a break, a bottle of mead before him.
"Your friend told me to tell you he'd be back an hour before sunset," the innkeeper announced, and Remel thanked her. After eating a full meal of soup and bread, she decided to retire for a nap before they left for the Meadery.
Rune shook her awake a bit later; she was groggy, but felt better for the nap, ready to face the rest of the day. "How did your jobs go?" She yawned, and Rune grinned.
"Fantastic." He emptied his pockets onto the bed, and gold coins tumbled out, mixed in with the odd gemstone and a couple of silver rings.
Remel laughed. "Congratulations," she said. "Now let's get moving. We're running short on time."
Rune tucked the booty into his pack and hid it under the bed, then checked for his daggers, one at each waist. Remel emptied hers, but for the essentials—potions, medical supplies—and slung it on her back, pulling the hunting bow on over it. She glanced down at herself with a critical eye, then nodded. "I'm ready. You?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
She smiled slightly and turned on her heel, heading down the stairs and out the door.
Honningbrew Meadery was just a few minutes' walk down the road from Whiterun. They reached it as the sun neared the horizon. Remel knocked on the door, to no response; she shrugged and pushed it open. Inside, it was chaos. The man who Remel assumed was the owner, Sabjorn, stood in front of the counter, aggressively sweeping skeever droppings off the ground. Empty bottles littered the ground and counter; the few tables in the corners were covered with moldy food. Sabjorn jerked his head up when they entered, a gleam in his crazed eyes.
"What do you want? Huh? Come to laugh at an old man?"
"Of course not," Remel said in her most placating voice. "We heard you had a...pest problem. We wanted to help."
"If the price is right," Rune added, and Remel rolled her eyes. "Yes. If the price is right."
Sabjorn seemed to sag with relief. "Thank the divines. I was just about to send for the Companions, no matter how damn expensive they are. Here." He hurried behind his counter and thrust a large square bottle into Remel's hands. She raised her eyebrows; it was a lot of poison. She hoped Mallus knew what he was talking about.
"What about the payment?" Rune interrupted, and Sabjorn grunted.
"I'll have it for you when you get back. No dead skeevers, no payment, got it?"
"Got it," Remel interjected. "Come on, Rune, let's get to it."
Rune grumbled a bit, but acquiesced. Remel led the way through the storeroom and down to the basement. It was even nastier down there, with skeever droppings and fur everywhere. It was clear Sabjorn had made an effort to catch the beasts, with empty bear traps scattered across the floor, but he hadn't had an ounce of success.
Remel's heartbeat grew faster in her chest. She could sense the skeevers, smell them; her bosmer blood, with its special connection to wildlife, told her they were in danger. She drew her dagger and fell into a defensive stance. Sensing her trepidation, Rune did the same.
They crept toward the tunnel, with the wooden slats broken down and useless, as Mallus had said. Remel had only a moment's warning, a dark shadow shifting, before the skeever flew out of the darkness with a hiss and went for her throat. She managed to wrest the thing away from her and hurled it against the wall, where it collapsed with a throaty hiss. She turned to Rune, who had gone pale.
"That's the biggest skeever I've ever seen," he whispered. "And we live in the Ratway."
Remel took a deep breath. "It's a good thing I brought so many potions."
They crept through the dark tunnels, encountering more skeevers, many the size of small dogs. Remel led the way, her heightened mer senses protecting them. With every skeever they fought they grew more tired. By the time they reached the nest, Remel was exhausted, her arms sagging. Her dagger was coated with skeever venom and drying black blood, and she had a single long scratch on her arm from one particularly large rat's teeth. Luckily her bosmer blood protected her from disease, but the wound still ached, and she was losing blood.
They reached a large open cavern, and Remel backed against the wall, drawing Rune with her. "I think this is it," she whispered, voice low. "Are you ready?"
"No," he answered honestly. "But we don't have a choice, do we?"
Remel sighed and turned back to the cave. Slowly, dagger at the ready, she slipped around the corner and crept through the shadows.
Without warning, three massive skeevers flew towards her. She let out a curse and blocked one with her dagger, leaving a long cut along the skeever's side. It barely slowed down, and she didn't have a chance to finish it, busy as she was with the other two.
Beyond her small scope, she heard a shout, and then a small explosion. "Rune!" She cried, but couldn't look away; she managed to stab one of the skeevers, but the other two surrounded her. She kicked out; the skeever by her foot avoided the blow and leapt, attaching itself to her thigh. She let out a scream and brought down her dagger, severing the thing's head from its body. One more to go. She backed against the wall as the skeever crept toward her, its red eyes darting back and forth. Venom dripped from its open mouth and her stomach turned over. The thing darted to one side and then lunged, and Remel threw up her dagger, barely stopping it in time.
Another explosion sounded near her, shaking the cave, and Remel tossed the skeever aside, sprinting toward the sound.
Rune was locked in combat with a strange man, shirtless with greasy shoulder-length gray hair. He wielded magic in both hands; one launched fireballs which exploded on impact, and the other was constantly healing himself. Rune held his own, but he was flagging, Remel could tell. He leapt to the side and rolled to avoid another fireball, and Remel realized that he was bleeding from a gash on the side of his face.
She didn't have time to think; she simply lunged forward, sprinting toward the mage. Hearing her, the mage turned around and prepared another fireball. She realized the stupidity in her plan—or lack of one—but it was too late; the mage drew back his hand, ready to burn her to a crisp, and then stopped. The magic faded from his hands, and the light from his eyes, and Remel realized that a steel dagger tip protruded from his chest.
The mage collapsed, and Remel realized she was gasping. She leapt toward Rune, who now held only a single dagger, the other one being embedded in the mage's back.
"Are you all right? Are you all right?" She was gasping, barely tucking her knife away before her hands found Rune's face. His eyes were unfocused, and the wound was gushing blood. The edges of it were jagged and tinged green, and Remel felt a jolt of fear go through her.
She gently guided him to the ground and pulled her pack off, rifling through it for the antidotes she and Arcadia had brewed that morning. She uncorked one with trembling hands and poured half of it over the cut on Rune's face. It glowed faintly against the blood-red gash. Remel quickly pulled out the tundra cotton she'd gathered on the way there and stuffed the wound. The cotton was very absorbent, as Arcadia had said; as it slowly turned red, she wrapped bandages around his head and secured them there. Finally Rune's eyes seemed to focus on her. "Remel?"
"How are you feeling?" She said, not stopping her work. "How did you get this?"
"Mm...skeever," he said, seeming confident. As he shifted one arm, he winced, and Remel quickly turned her attention there. A nasty burn covered almost all of his left arm; Remel let out an exasperated noise and pulled out another potion.
It was almost fifteen minutes before she was confident she'd addressed all his wounds, but Rune was in no state to be sneaking around the brewery. She sighed and stood, pouring half the rat poison onto the hay stack that seemed to be their home. Her gaze roved over the nest; a table rested against the wall, holding an alchemy set, a number of potions, and a small leather-bound journal. Curious, Remel grabbed the journal and brought it back over to Rune.
"You have to stay here," she said quietly. "You're in no state to go up to the brewery with me. I'll poison the mead and be back for you as soon as I can. Here." She left two healing potions next to him, and one which would help his strength. "Drink these if you need. I shouldn't be long. If you need me, yell."
She had never felt such urgency as she flew up the tunnels toward the brewery. A few more skeevers stood in her way, but she dispatched them quickly. The massive vat of mead stood open and inviting, and she dumped the rest of the rat poison in it, tucked the empty bottle in her pack, and flew back down the tunnel to the nest.
Rune was sitting exactly where she left him, holding the mage's journal in his hands. His face wasn't quite so pale, and Remel breathed a sigh of relief.
"Find anything interesting?" She said, going for a playful tone.
"He was truly a madman," Rune said by way of response. "Thought he could take over the world using skeevers." He shrugged. "I wish he hadn't been so close to right."
Remel rolled her eyes and shoved the journal in her pack. Rune had drank two of the potions, so she left the empty bottles there and thrust the full one into his hand. "Come on, we've got to go." She tugged his arm over her shoulders and helped him stand; he was heavy, but she was strong. Together, they limped back the way they had come.
By the time they reached the Meadery, Remel was panting from carrying both of them. Rune's face had gone back to pale, and he was bleeding through the bandages. She set him gently in a chair and went to speak with Sabjorn.
Mallus sat in the corner, eyes hooded, and Sabjorn stood behind the counter, fiddling nervously with an empty tankard; a man dressed in armor, likely the guard captain, waited with crossed arms at the bar.
As soon as Sabjorn saw Remel, he jumped up. "Ah, perfect. Mallus, be a good lad and fetch the reserve, would you?"
Mallus grumbled, but stood up and slipped out the door. Remel took the opportunity to step up to Sabjorn and hold out her hand.
"The payment now, if you please," she said, and her voice was like ice.
"Not until after the tasting," Sabjorn snapped, but Remel drew herself up to her full height—all five feet of it—and glared.
"My partner could have died," she growled. "I'll take the payment, and I'll take it now."
Sabjorn went pale and drew a coin purse from under the bar. "Here. Now go stand over there." She took the heavy purse and retreated to stand in the corner as Mallus returned, lugging a heavy keg of ale.
Sabjorn relaxed. "Ah, finally. Thank you for waiting, good sir." He cracked open the keg and poured out a sample of mead. "This is my finest brew yet; I call it Honningbrew Reserve. I hope you like it."
The captain said nothing, only grabbed the tankard and took a swig. Remel waited with bated breath as he drained the tankard.
Then his face went pale, almost green, and he drew his sword. "You lying piece of dirt!" He snapped, leaning over the bar and grabbing Sabjorn's collar. "You promised this place was clean!"
"It is," Sabjorn said, fearful. "I swear, it is—"
"Swear it to the prison guards." The captain hauled him around and frog-marched him out the door.
Remel stood with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as she watched this play out. As soon as the Meadery door shut, Mallus let out a raucous laugh.
"I'll never forget the look on his face," he said, still chuckling.
"I'm glad you think this is funny," Remel said, her voice cold, and Mallus went quiet.
"What are you talking about?"
"You didn't think you'd mention the madman living in the tunnels?"
Mallus looked sheepish. "Well, I didn't want to give you a reason to back out."
"We could have died. Rune almost died. We could have at least prepared better if we knew what we were up against." She got up in Mallus's face, hazel eyes blazing. "You owe me, big time."
"Fine," Mallus said, backing up, his hands up defensively. "I'm sorry, okay? I should have told you. Here." He fished around in his pocket and handed her a key. " This goes to Sabjorn's private study. Look around and take whatever you want. Maven wants anything about Sabjorn's investors, but I know he keeps a bit of gold and some treasure in there too. Help yourself."
He stepped away from Remel once more. "And if you need anything fenced, you can bring it to me," he added.
Remel huffed, but settled down. "Fine. But I haven't forgiven you."
"I don't expect you to."
She turned away, and that was that. Leaving Rune sitting against the wall, she climbed the stairs to Sabjorn's private study and stuffed her pack with anything valuable-looking. Then she rifled through his desk; with no way of knowing what was important and what wasn't, she took anything with writing on it, leaving only the business ledger.
Her pack was heavy when she finally descended the steps and helped Rune to his feet. "Come on, then," she said softly. "Time for you to get some rest."