Chapter Four: An Unexpected Reunion (Morndas, Eighth of Hearthfire)

The next morning found the two women on assignment. They left Whiterun after sharing breakfast with Lydia and Hamish and stood outside the Whiterun stables, packing their saddle bags with supplies for a few days away from home.

Aerenwen caressed her horse's neck. Queen Alfsgir, as the breeders had called her, Aerenwen had taken to calling the beast Allie. Like all horses bred in Skyrim, Allie was huge, standing much taller than the horses the high elf was accustomed to. Allie was solid in color, as was indicative of the horses bred in Whiterun Hold, and was such a dark brown that she almost appeared black. Her body was massive, not only in height, but also in sheer muscle, and her hooves, and those of her breed, were larger than any Aerenwen had ever seen.

Aela's horse, Hanna, though a slightly lighter brown, was otherwise similar in appearance to Allie. It had been the Huntress's idea for Aerenwen to purchase a horse at the stables. It had been a couple of weeks since she had done so, and although she'd made sure to ride the beautiful creature daily around the outskirts of the city to allow them to become acquainted with one another, this would be their first journey out of town together.

On horseback, the journey from Whiterun to Riverwood was nearly cut in half, the warrior women arriving in the small village in just over an hour. They didn't stop, but guided their horses through the town's center in a slow trot, greeting some of the residents they passed by.

In another hour, they sat atop their horses outside the wall of Helgen.

"We don't need to go through," Aela explained. "We can backtrack a bit and take the road by the river. It would take a bit longer as it skirts the lake, but if you're not ready to walk through Helgen again, it isn't necessary to do so this morning."

"It's fine," Aerenwen stated. "You almost wouldn't realize what happened here just by looking at these walls."

It was true, in the area around this particular gate to the city, the walls stood seemingly untouched. The only sign from where they stood that anything at all had happened there was a notice nailed to a post along the roadside.

Town of Helgen closed due to dragon disaster. Travelers, enter at your own risk.

Aerenwen dismounted and led Allie by her reign to the gate. It was unlocked and slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, revealing the devastation within the town's walls.

"By the gods," Aela gasped, coming to stand beside the other woman. "I'd heard how bad it was . . . from you and others . . . I just . . . it's more than I could've imagined."

Unlike the last time Aerenwen had been in the town, she was met with silence as she slowly walked the main road. The screams of terror and roar of the dragon had been replaced with an eery sort of quiet, and honestly, the elf wasn't sure which she preferred. The clop of the horses' hooves on the cobbled road almost seemed too loud for the surroundings.

Helgen still smelled of scorched wood and charred flesh, although there had obviously been a large clean up effort. The bodies were gone, and the road had been cleared, because though she was sure most would stay away, the road through Helgen was a main thoroughfare connecting the holds of Whiterun, Falkreath, and the Reach, and trade routes would need to be maintained.

As they passed through the town, the events of that fated day played through Aerenwen's mind. Her near-execution, her leap from the tower, finding Hamish . . . dozens of near-death encounters with the massive dragon. Aela kept glancing between the rubble and her friend in concern. Although it wasn't unusual for the High Elf to be quiet, there was a sullenness and pensiveness about her the huntress wasn't used to, and she was concerned their trip through the devastated town, no matter how brief, may bring up some unresolved trauma in Aerenwen.

As they neared the gate that would take them out of the city, she finally spoke. "Do you think they will rebuild?"

"Possibly," Aela replied. "Helgen was an important military town. Aside from Solitude, it always had the greatest presence of Imperial soldiers, even before the war. Though I can't imagine it will be any time soon. Resources and manpower are stretched too thin with the war. It will likely stay like this for some time, and I'd imagine bandits will take residence here before too long. It's a good location for ambushing travelers and trade caravans, once people are comfortable traveling through here again. For awhile, I'd bet anyone who can afford to take the extra time will travel around the Throat of the World near Whiterun rather than taking the mountain pass through Helgen."

It was some time before Aerenwen was able to shake the dark mood the trip through Helgen had left her in, but as they entered the thick, coniferous forest of Falkreath Hold, she was acting more like her usual self, much to Aela's relief.

"That's my father's home," Aela stated as they passed a small cabin located not far from the road, tucked into the base of a rocky hillside. "He's likely not home now. Out hunting, I'd imagine." She stated this as if it was her reason for not stopping as they passed, but after what she had told her friend about her relationship with her father, Aerenwen doubted she would have stopped either way.

Some bandits had set up a trap for travelers just outside of the hold's capital, but they were no match for the two trained warrior women.

They arrived in Falkreath late morning. The town reminded Aerenwen of Riverwood in its wooden architecture and simplicity. It was partially surrounded by a wall composed of a mixture of stone and wood, but the natural landscape of rocky outcrops was used as a defensive border as well.

Something about the town was offputting to Aerenwen. The forests of the hold they had traveled through thus far were bright and full of the sounds of cheerful birds and active wildlife. Falkreath town, however, was damp and dark, a shroud of mist that was absent in the surrounding area seeming to hang over the town itself.

"We're to meet Dengeir at the inn around noon," Aela explained as the two women tied their horses to a post outside the inn named, as Aerenwen read on the sign, Dead Man's Drink.

"Who is this man?" Aerenwen asked. "You seemed to know who he was when Skjor gave us this assignment."

"Dengeir of Stuhn," Aela replied. "He used to be Jarl of Falkreath up until about three years ago."

"So he was the Jarl when you were growing up here?"

Aela nodded. "He was encouraged to retire and replaced by his nephew Siddgeir. He holds the title of Thane now. Last I heard, he was certain there was an Imperial conspiracy against him. Siddgeir's loyalty is with the Empire, but Dengeirr is an old-fashioned Nord, and Falkreath probably would've sided with the Stormcloaks were he still in charge. I'm told he's certain that's the reason he was forced to step down." Aela shrugged. "There could be some truth to it, I suppose, but more likely, his age was having ill effects on his frame of mind. He was always a bit paranoid and weak of mind, forgetful, indecisive. I can't imagine those traits would get any better with age."

"What's the job?"

"I don't really know," the other woman replied as they walked up the few steps leading to the porch outside the inn. "Skjor said the letter didn't have much information aside from Dengeir stating it was imperative we send several battle-hard Companions to aide Falkreath Hold and that he'd tell us more in person. If it's politically related, we're to refuse the job and return to Jorrvaskr. If not, it sounded like we could be here a couple of days at least."

The inside of Dead Man's Drink was very similar to the Sleeping Giant. There weren't many patrons, being that most of the townsfolk were probably hard at work. Three of the five people at the inn were obviously employees. An attractive Imperial woman stood behind the counter at the far left of the room, thumbing through a book; a buxom and beautiful Nord woman was wiping off one of the long wooden tables; and a Breton bard stood near the open fire in the center of the large room, tuning the lute in his hands. Aside from them, two other men were in the establishment: a middle-aged warrior clad in simple iron armor sat near the fire with a flagon in his fist, and a finely dressed aged man with white hair and beard sat at a table facing away from the door.

"There's Dengeir," Aela commented with a nod toward the elder. Aerenwen followed her across the room, and they took a seat on the bench on the opposite side of the table as the man.

"Ah, you've made it," the old man stated with a smile. "Aela the Huntress, and who is this?"

"I am Aerenwen," the high elf replied.

"I had hoped Kodlak would send a better suited team," Dengeir commented with a frown.

Aela narrowed her eyes. "If you are referring to the fact that we are women, surely my reputation proceeds me," she replied. "If you're referring to the fact you are unfamiliar with my shield-sister, I can assure you that although she is a newer member to the Companions, she has been with us for some time and is more than capable. Certainly the most advanced warrior in our ranks outside the Circle. If you're referring to her race, that should be a nonissue as, I'm sure you're aware, the Companions do not deal in politics, and if this mission you need our help with is at all related to the war, we have strict orders to return to Jorrvaskr without involving ourselves any further."

The old man looked rightly chagrined and glanced around to make certain no one could overhear his next words. "An empty grave appeared in our great cemetery last week," he began. "The citizens of Falkreath believe it to be the work of a corpse thief. The truth is far less pleasant. The grave is . . . was the grave of Vighar, my own ancestor, dead for centuries now. He is a vampire, and my family, his descendants, were entrusted with keeping him buried. Someone stole the wardstone. I didn't realize this until his grave lay empty, and I went to retrieve it from its hiding place. It was gone, and Vighar has risen."

"You want us to find this wardstone?" Aela asked.

Dengeir shook his head emphatically. "It's too late for that. Vighar must be destroyed. Not only is he an extremely powerful vampire, but if word of this gets out, my family will suffer great shame. I was able to use a local warrior to discreetly track his whereabouts to Bloodlet Throne, an abandoned fortress in the Jerell Mountains, but I knew I needed warriors of experience and great valor to face this enemy. He is a powerful master vampire and appears to have already filled the fort with thralls and developed quite the following."

"So we take care of Vighar and his followers," Aela confirmed with a nod.

Dengeir nodded as well. "Vighar should be wearing a ring baring my family's crest. Please return it to me upon his death. Only then will I be able to rest easy. The most direct path to Bloodlet Throne begins outside the eastern gate of Helgen. I will have payment for you upon your return."

At that, the former Jarl stood and, after paying the innkeeper, left the building. The other man, the warrior, who had watched the encounter with great interest, had left the inn moments before, leaving the two women as the only patrons in the small tavern.

"Can I get you ladies anything?" the barmaiden asked, approaching their table.

"What's the special today?" Aerenwen asked.

"Valga has a fresh batch of apple cabbage stew for today," the woman replied. "It's served with some fresh baked bread and your choice of beverage."

"We'll each take that," she ordered. "Do you have spiced wine?"

She nodded.

"I'll have a goblet of that please. Aela?"

"A flagon of Honningbrew please," the huntress ordered.

They sat in silence until the waitress returned with their order. "I'm called Narri. If there's anything else I can get you, just give a shout."

After she'd left them alone again, Aela spoke. "We should probably get a room here for a couple of nights. It would be best to strike off for this Bloodlet Throne first thing in the morning that way we can be certain all the vampires will be there seeking shelter from the daylight."

Aerenwen nodded her agreement as she dipped her piece of bread into the broth of the stew and took a bite.

"When we've finished, we'll need to return here to meet with Dengeir again," Aela continued, "so that would have us back in Whiterun on Middas at the earliest." She swallowed a spoonful of stew. "Have you ever fought vampires?"

Aerenwen shook her head.

"Sanguinare Vampiris can be contracted just by proximity to them," Aela explained. "If you catch it, you're sick for two or three days and then you wake up a vampire. It's actually the only disesase my beastblood is susceptible to. Thankfully, until it is has developed into vampirism, it can be cured with a simple healing potion. I always drink one the day after any encounters just to be safe."

"If it can be cured so easily, how does it spread so quickly?" Aerenwen asked.

Aela shrugged. "If you weren't aware you had encountered a vampire or if your knowledge on the contraction of the disease was lacking, you would probably think you just had a common cold, not feeling sick enough to bother spending the money on a potion. By the time you realized it was more than that, it would be too late. Other than that, vampires often capture those they wish to spread the disease to, thereby limiting their access to cures."

Aerenwen nodded. Made sense.

"There's an apothecary shop here," Aela continued. "Grave Concoctions. We should pay it a visit this afternoon, that way if she doesn't have any in stock, she can have some prepared for us upon our return. The apothecary is a Redguard. I've done business with her before. She's a bit eccentric, but her skill is decent."

After eating, the two women approached the counter.

"Welcome to Dead Man's Drink," the proprietor greeted with a smile. "Did you enjoy your meal?"

"We did, thank you," Aerenwen replied. "It was delicious."

"Is there anything else I can get you, Companions?" she asked.

"We'll be needing a room for two nights," Aela replied, pulling out the small bag of coins Skjor had given them to cover the expenses of the trip. A benefit to being a Companion, food and board expenses were covered while on a mission rather than taken out of the member's own pocket.

"And can we get a couple of those sweet rolls?" Aerenwen added, her sweet tooth getting the best of her. "They look divine."

The innkeeper grinned. "They're fresh out of the oven," she stated proudly. She began jotting on a piece of paper, tallying up their expenses. "Let's see, the meal was six septims a piece, then three septims for the mead and four for the wine, the sweet rolls are four septims each, and the room would be ten septims each night." She glanced up at the women. "I'm afraid I only have a room with a double bed available. Is that alright?"

Aela smirked and glanced at Aerenwen. "I think we can probably make do with that just fine."

"Great! So that's . . . " the woman paused as she tallied up their total " . . . forty-seven septims."

Aela paid her an even fifty, stating that the extra three were a tip for the waitress.

"Thank you for your business," the innkeeper replied. "Are you well, Aela? It's been some time since we've seen you in these parts."

"I am," she replied with a smile. "Thanks for asking, Valga. Is . . . have you . . ." she stumbled over her words.

Valga smiled sadly, knowing what the warrior was having such a difficult time asking. "Niall drops by at least once a week to do business and have some drinks with the locals," she told her. "He is in good health."

Aela smiled and looked relieved.

"We haven't met," the Imperial woman stated, extending her hand to Aerenwen. "Valga Vinicia, proprietor of Dead Man's Drink."

"Aerenwen," the elf replied, accepting her handshake.

"If there is anything at all I can get you ladies during your stay, just let me or Narri know," Valga told them. "I'm fixing up a batch of venison stew for tomorrow."

"We'll be away for much of the day tomorrow," Aela replied. "Also, could I have some oats and carrots for our horses? We'll be leaving first thing in the morning, and I'm not sure how late we will return."

Valga was obviously very curious about just what business the Companions were handling in Falkreath and how it involved Dengeir, but she refrained from prying and simply nodded. "We've got a mixture of oats, carrots, and apples that's included in the price of your room, as you may remember. Narri will bring it out to them shortly and also make sure there's fresh water in the trough."

The warriors thanked her again and headed toward the door. They were checking on their horses when they heard a gasp nearby.

"Aerenwen?!"

The elf turned and stared wide-eyed at the woman who had spoken.

Aela looked around her horse to see who in Falkreath knew her shield-sister, only to be shocked as she found a woman who looked almost identical to Aerenwen. This Altmer was shorter than the woman who was rapidly winning her heart and thinner, less muscular. Her long hair was such a light blonde it was almost white, and she wore it in a high ponytail. But her golden eyes and her angled features were almost a perfect match to Aerenwen's.

"Mari?!" Aerenwen gasped, her shock quickly being replaced with a look of relief and pure joy.

The two Altmer closed the distance between them and quickly embraced.

"I have been so worried about you!" Aerenwen commented, her arms still around the smaller woman.

"And I you, sister," Mari answered with a smile.

Aerenwen took her hand and lead her toward her shield-sister. "Mari, this is Aela. We work together, and she's a dear friend . . . for now," she added with a grin.

Mari, too, grinned and glanced between her sister and the other woman, obviously understanding immediately what the 'for now' implied.

"Aela, this is my sister, Mariwen," Aerenwen introduced, "though most call her Mari."

"The mage, right?" Aela confirmed with a smile, accepting a handshake from the woman.

"Aw, sister, you've been telling stories about me," Mari teased. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Aela. Any woman who can put up with my sister and win her otherwise unattainable affections is definitely one I'm happy to meet."

Aela chuckled and, though curious about what exactly she meant by that, decided she would leave her questions for Aerenwen for when they were alone later.

"We have so much to catch up on," Mari told her sister. "I have a few more hours of work. Are you staying at the inn?"

Aerenwen nodded. "We'll be gone on business for most of the day tomorrow, but we're staying until Middas."

Mari squealed excitedly. "Let's meet for dinner here then, shall we?" She glanced between her sister and her sister's friend/lover.

Aela couldn't hide her surprise at Mari's enthusiasm. While Aerenwen was certainly warm-hearted and had an excellent sense of humor, a dry wit, she was stoic and quiet, often a woman of few words and an observer. Her sister, however, was bubbling over with energy and seemed to be quite the opposite.

Aerenwen glanced at Aela for agreement, and of course, the woman nodded. How could she deny her love dinner with one of her long-lost sisters? "That sounds excellent, Mari. I can't tell you how happy I am to see you."

Mari grinned and, though obviously reluctant to leave her sister after only just finding her again, she promised to see them at dinner and wandered off down the road to the left, glancing over her shoulder with a smile every so often.

"So that's Mari?" Aela commented with a smirk.

"That's Mari," Aerenwen answered with a nod.

"She's . . . enthusiastic," Aela laughed.

"That's putting it mildly," Aerenwen chuckled. Her mood was bright, the somberness from their trip through Helgen earlier a distant memory. She hooked her arm through Aela's, and the Huntress led her down the road toward Grave Concoctions.

"What is with this town's preoccupation with death?" Aerenwen asked later as the two women left the apothecary shop with potions in hand. "Dead Man's Drink? Grave Concoctions?"

Aela laughed. "There's a huge cemetery here," she replied. "The largest in Skyrim. It's sort of the town's only claim to fame, and the resident's have built upon it. There were a lot of battles fought here in ancient times, and the dead would be buried here. It developed an honorable reputation, and great warriors from throughout the province were soon requesting burial in Falkreath."

Later, as they unloaded some of their supplies in the small room they would call their home away from home for the next couple of nights, Aela asked the question she had been wanting to since meeting Mari. "What did your sister mean when she said you had unattainable affections?"

"Caught that, did you?" Aerenwen replied. "I've never really had a real relationship."

Aela nodded, not terribly surprised. Neither had she. "The life of a warrior makes that difficult," she commented.

"No, it's not just that," the elf answered. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Before I met you, I'd never felt that pull, that attraction to anyone . . . ever. Not even a little bit. I've had sex with people, male and female, trying to find it, but I never did, nor did I really enjoy it. I always thought, maybe, I was destined to be alone. That I just wasn't meant to enjoy the company of another person in that way. I'd resigned myself to that, and then I met you."

"You feel that pull with me?"

"It's so strong and so . . . foreign," Aerenwen answered. "That's part of why it's so scary but feels so right. I don't just find you pretty or enjoy your company . . . I want you, desperately. Like I've never wanted anything in my life. I crave your presence, Aela."

The Nord stared in the elf's golden eyes, moved by what she'd said, and dove forward, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss, their first. It was everything both women had hoped for, and after some time, they sat together, breathless, still embraced.

"You might not have enjoyed it, but I find it hard to believe that anyone who experienced what I just did felt the same," Aela teased.

Aerenwen blushed and placed a soft kiss on the other woman's jawline.

"You've really never enjoyed sex?"

"Nope."

"I intend to change that eventually."

Aerenwen smirked. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"We always thought you'd end up as more than a mercenary," Mari commented with a smile after Aerenwen had finished updating her on her life since their separation. "And I can't wait to travel to Whiterun to see your home and meet my new nephew."

Aerenwen smiled, pleased her sister was so quick to accept their newest family member. "Now it's your turn. Tell me how you found yourself in Falkreath."

"Well, that night we were separated, the ambush you were captured in," Mari began, "I was wounded. Took an arrow here." She placed her hand over a spot on her abdomen. "Somehow, I wandered all the way here. I have no idea how I found my way through the mountains. I barely remember it. I recall being so cold, and there was so much blood . . . I was near death when I finally spotted the lights of Falkreath. I sat in the cemetery to rest and must have passed out because the next thing I remember, I woke up in a bed, and my wounds had been tended to.

"I was discovered by a man named Kust. He's a retired warrior who lives at the Hall of the Dead with the priest and tends to the cemetery," she continued. "He brought me there, and I was taken care of by Runil, priest of Arkay. As it turns out, Runil is also a fugitive from the Thalmor. He was like Father and Borir. He served as a battlemage during the war but longed for peace afterward. The Thalmor weren't done with him, and we know how that turns out. He fled and found his way here and devoted his life to Arkay. He's well respected in the community, but they don't know of his past. He fears if they did, they wouldn't look upon him the same. As far as anyone in town knows, I'm his niece, visiting from the Imperial City.

"Anyway, it took a while to get me back on my feet. I stayed with Runil and Kust, and then I got a job at Corpselight Farm working for the Caerellia's. They need extra help with the harvest, and Indara isn't well right now. She's working some, but they're in mourning. Their daughter was killed a few weeks ago. By a werewolf," she added with a whisper.

Aela and Aerenwen exchanged alarmed glances.

"I killed it," she added excitedly. "I hunted this white stag, and when I killed it, Hircine appeared to me as a ghost of it. He commanded me to kill the werewolf. He'd lost control of his shifting, and he'd stolen something from the daedric prince. He gave it to me. It's a ring. And he gave me some armor. I don't really have any use for them. You could probably take them if you'd like."

Again, Aela and Aerenwen exchanged a glance that went unnoticed by Mari.

"Since then, things have been quiet mostly," Mari finished. "I'm living and working at the farm. I've made some friends. I'm no Thane," she giggled, "but I'm doing well for myself."

"I'm glad," Aerenwen commented with a smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her sister's hand.

"I didn't know you folks knew each other," the waitress, Narri, stated as she approached the table. "Refills?"

"Aerenwen is my sister," Mari stated proudly.

The waitress looked surprised. "I didn't know you had any siblings, Mari."

"Five of them," Mari replied.

"All scattered throughout Skyrim," Aerenwen added, hoping it was true.

Narri nodded and glanced at Mari again as she topped off their flagons then walked away.

"What's going on there?" Aerenwen asked, ever observant.

"Nothing," Mari replied. "Well, something, but you know me."

Aerenwen chuckled. Her sister had always enjoyed spending time with various members of the fairer sex, but it rarely meant anything to her beyond the physical and friendship. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked with a smirk.

Mari grinned. "Don't I always?"