Anyone take a guess at who the surprise POV was? LOL, well if you couldn't guess, you're about to find out. We're starting with my first ever interrogation scene, which required me to watch that one scene from the Dark Knight, you know where The Joker is in the interrogation room with Batman? Sigh... I miss Heath Ledger... Oh, Apologies to BrunetteAuthorette if I was a little too rough with your baby...

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please Fave/Follow/Review. I've also noticed that some people are following me, and haven't followed the prequel. People, you might really want to consider reading Two Halves: Full Moon before you read this one. Some of this will make more sense if you do that first.

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Chapter Twenty-Five

"This is Finverior?" Einarr gaped, staring at the Bosmer tied up in front of him.

"Aye," Brynjolf answered.

"How'd you get him like this without the whole inn noticing?" Vilkas asked, stepping into the room and glaring at the elf.

"Must be short on gold, cause I overheard him trying to sell himself to that pretty Imperial that's with you," the thief answered, leaning against the nearby wall.

"Ria," Einarr told Brynjolf.

"Aye, well once I heard him say his name, I walked right over to him and, well, let's just say I tempted his offer," Brynjolf chuckled. "Once we were in the room, I punched him in the face and tied him to that chair."

Finverior shouted into his gag once again, his words muffled and unintelligible. The Wood Elf was struggling against his bond and was chewing at the gag, trying to get himself free. Unable to watch him squirm like that anymore, Einarr reached over and pulled the gag off of Finverior's mouth.

"Look, I don't know who you three are, but if I owe any of you money, I can pay it back in a few days," Finverior told them.

"It's not money we're after," Vilkas growled.

"Then what in Oblivion do you want from me?" he demanded.

"Information," Einarr explained, turning the Bosmer's chair so he was facing the small bed and then taking a seat in front of him. "But first, let me introduce myself. My name's Einarr, and my two friends here are Brynjolf and Vilkas. Brynjolf's the one that tied you up, and Vilkas is the one who's going beat you mercilessly unless you tell us what we want to know."

He could smell the fear and panic coming off of Finverior. "W-what do you want to know?"

"I've heard rumors that you aren't traveling alone these days," Brynjolf said. "Where's your friend?"

"You heard wrong," Finverior informed him. "I always travel alone."

Einarr glared and reached for a dagger lying on the end table. "I can tell when people are lying to me. And what you just said was a lie."

"I'm not lying, I'm all al-Ghaa!"

He was cut off when Vilkas stepped forward and gave Finverior a swift punch to the jaw. Blood pooled inside the elf's mouth and dribbled out from between his lips.

"Don't insult our intelligence Finverior," Einarr growled. "We all know you're lying. And every bounty with your name on it says that you have a partner who works with you."

"Alright fine!" Finverior coughed. "I do have a partner. He's a Breton, goes by the name of Linis."

Einarr sighed and looked at Brynjolf and Vilkas before leaning forward and getting his face right up into Finverior's space. "You sure it's a Breton? You sure it's not a Nord girl?"

Finverior's amber eyes flashed. "Alright, you want the truth? It is a girl, but I ain't never seen her face once! For all I know, she's some Orc bitch. Always trails after me wearing that damned black hood and mask over her face."

"Honestly he hasn't caught on that I can tell he's lying," Einarr told Brynjolf and Vilkas, right before he turned back to Finverior and thrust the tip of the dagger into the Bosmer's thigh.

Vilkas clamped a hand over Finverior's mouth as he screamed bloody murder. Einarr left the dagger in his leg for several moments, twisting it a bit every now and then, before he yanked it out and glared at the elf.

His words came out very slowly. "Where. Is. My. Sister?"

Vilkas removed his hand and Finverior panted heavily, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"She's not here with me," Finverior answered. "We split up outside of Solitude. She didn't want to come into the city because she knew you were here."

"So where is she now?" Vilkas demanded.

"Like I'm going to tell you," Finverior scoffed.

Vilkas's hand went around Finverior's throat. "You son of a-"

"She's told me all about you three," he interrupted, his voice choking slightly. "And she's made it perfectly clear that she's not ready to see any of you yet."

"We've given her plenty of time to herself," Einarr said. "But enough is enough. I'm sick of waiting around on the off chance she might show up one day. So you tell me where she is right now, or I will kill you."

"No you wont," he chuckled. "Because if I'm dead, you're back to square one. You won't know where she is and instead of traveling safely with another person, she'll be all alone."

"Gods damn it," Einarr snarled, turning to Brynjolf. "How can my little sister hang around a piece of filth like this?"

Finverior gave them an arrogant. "Simple. I give her what she needs. And she likes it."

Einarr could see Vilkas's patience snap. Without bothering to stop him, Einarr watched Vilkas kick the Wood Elf to the floor, still tied to the chair, and violently kick his stomach with his boot.

"Even I know that was the wrong thing to say, Finverior," Brynjolf said. "Last thing you want to do is imply to Vilkas that you're sleeping with his woman."

"Stop! Stop!" the Bosmer shouted.

"Enough, Vilkas," Einarr ordered, grabbing onto his friend's arm.

Vilkas's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. Einarr could see just how angry he was, and he was glad that he no longer had the beastblood. If he had still been a werewolf when this fit of anger hit him, there would no telling what Vilkas could have done. He firmly shoved Vilkas away from Finverior and pulled the chair upright again, glaring at the moaning Wood Elf.

"Let's try to keep a civil tongue now, shall we?" Einarr suggested. "Now, I know that you know where Lassarina is. So why don't you just make this easier on yourself, and tell us where she is?"

"Because," Finverior replied weakly. "I know she wouldn't want another betrayal."

Brynjolf sucked in a breath and Einarr turned to look at him.

"That Mercer Frey really screwed that girl up," Finverior continued. "I've never seen a person so damaged by someone. If I hadn't met her and gave her an alternative to her grief, she probably would have fallen on her own sword a while ago."

"Lassarina would have never done that!" Vilkas shouted.

"Vilkas!" Einarr warned, glaring at the warrior. Looking back at the Bosmer he asked, "What alternative?"

"I'm not telling you that," he quickly replied. "You'll definitely kill me. All you need to know is that without me keeping her in line, she'll be in pretty bad shape soon. Sadly, Rina doesn't know the meaning of moderation."

"By the Eight," Brynjolf gasped. "Did you give her what I think you gave her?"

Finverior turned to Brynjolf. "Just let me go and leave her in peace."

Einarr looked up at the thief. "Brynjolf, what did he give her?"

"That bastard's got her addicted to skooma!" the red-headed Nord spat. "He's been caught peddling the stuff all over Skyrim!"

Einarr turned his burning gaze to Finverior. "You gave her skooma?"

"It was only supposed to be a one-time thing," the Bosmer defended himself. "I was selling the stuff in Falkreath and thought that some crying woman would be an easy sell. How the hell was I supposed to know she'd follow me and ask for more?"

"I should fucking kill you!" Vilkas roared, grabbing Finverior's collar and lifting both the elf and the chair he was tied to into the air.

"You kill me, and you lose your girl," Finverior spat. "I'm the only one that knows where she is. And the way she goes through the stuff, all the skooma will be gone by tomorrow night. Then you'll have a Dragonborn going through withdrawal. I don't know if you've ever seen someone go through skooma withdrawal, but it's not exactly a pretty sight."

Einarr ran a hand through his hair and released a frustrated growl. "Alright Finverior. What do you want?"

Vilkas dropped him and the elf turned his bright amber gaze to Einarr. "Bribing me now?"

"From what I've heard about you, the only thing you seem to understand crystal clear is gold. Just tell me the amount, and I'll get it for you. All you have to do in exchange is lead me to my sister."

Finverior regarded him for several moments. "I want all of my bounties taken care of."

"Done," Einarr nodded. "Now where is Lassarina?"

"Hold on, I'm not done yet," the elf snapped. "I also want a place in the Companions."

"Out of the question!" Vilkas snapped. "We don't accept rabble like you into our hall!"

Einarr narrowed his eyes at Finverior. "Why would you want to join the Companions? Wouldn't you be happier just taking some gold and going on your way?"

Finverior shrugged and flashed a grin. "Normally yes, but the way I spend gold, it'll all be gone in less than a moon. I'd rather have a place to sleep and a steady source of income. Plus, I've actually grown quite fond of Rina, not to mention I'm likely the only one that can control her skooma intake."

"We can get her off of skooma ourselves," Vilkas growled. "And if you're around, she'll more than likely fall back into the habit."

The Bosmer regarded Vilkas coolly. "Have you ever seen someone try to kick skooma? They go through some serious withdrawal, they get the shakes, they even get uncomfortable in their own skin. No offense, I'm sure you all have her best interests at heart, but you need someone around who actually knows how to deal with a situation like this."

Einarr glared at him. "I'll take it under consideration. For now, tell us where Lassarina is."

"I'll do you one better," Finverior said. "I'll take you to her myself. That way she can see the bruises and cuts and know I didn't just sell her out."

"You're lucky I didn't just let Vilkas kill you," Einarr told him, glancing at the still tense warrior beside him. "We'll leave right away."

Brynjolf untied Finverior and handed him a healing potion to dull the pain radiating through his body. Vilkas and Einarr left the elf with Brynjolf and walked over to their rooms to put on their armor, fresh from being repaired at the blacksmith's forge. Once they had everything they needed, they walked back to Brynjolf's room and found the thief talking to Finverior.

"Exactly how much do you know about Lassarina?" Brynjolf asked the elf.

"I know she was a Companion, and then a thief," Finverior answered, wrapping a bandage around his injured leg. "Well, Guildmaster now-"

"My sister's leader of the Thieves Guild?" Einarr interrupted, his eyes widening. Glaring at Brynjolf, he asked, "When were you going to tell me that?"

"She was the most qualified," Brynjolf explained. "She's the best thief the Guild has and until she met this lout, she was the most level headed." He turned back to Finverior. "What else did she tell you?"

Finverior rubbed his jaw. "Let's see, she told me about her miscarriage and how some man named Mercer Frey caused it. I know she's the Dragonborn and that she was a werewolf, until I helped her cure herself." Looking at Vilkas he added, "And I know she whimpers that one's name in her sleep."

"She says my name in her sleep?" Vilkas murmured.

"Yes, she starts crying and just says your name and how sorry she is," the elf nodded. "You should really forgive her; she didn't mean to sleep with that man in Markarth."

Vilkas stiffened and growled, "I have forgiven her. She just didn't stick around long enough for me to tell her."

"Alright, well, we should get going if we want to make it to Lassarina before morning."

Finverior limped right between Einarr and Vilkas to get out of the room and he got his shoulders roughly bumped by both of them as he made his way out. They stopped for a moment at the tables where the rest of the Companions were drinking, informing them that they were going out for a while to take care of one last job. Einarr left Kiraya in Avyanna's care and then followed Finverior out of the inn and out of Solitude. Outside, the Kahjiit caravans were starting to pack up to leave and Einarr caught Ri'saad's eye.

"Do'Einarr, it is good to see you again," Ri'saad greeted him. "I saw little Kiraya just yesterday."

"Ri'saad," Einarr greeted, dipping his head respectfully. Ri'saad was a Caravan leader, earning him great respect among other Khajiit, and a good friend of Einarr's. "Aye, Kiraya's missed caravan life. I try to keep her in touch with her heritage, though."

Ri'saad nodded and peered at Finverior. "You know that one?"

Einarr looked at the Bosmer and saw that he was avoiding the Khajiit's gaze. "Aye, why?"

"That one buys skooma from this one. Its little dariit friend buys it too. The dariit more often than the jekosiit."

Einarr snorted at what Ri'saad called Finverior, and turned to see the Bosmer glaring at him.

"Jekosiit indeed," Einarr chuckled. "We're actually on our way to find the dariit. She's my sister. And if she ever comes to you asking for skooma, don't sell it to her."

Ri'saad nodded and turned back to his companions. "May your road lead you to warm sands."

"May yours as well," Einarr nodded.

When he turned back to Vilkas, Brynjolf and Finverior, the Bosmer walked up to him. "What did he call me?"

"He called you a jekosiit," Einarr answered with a satisfied grin.

"What does that mean?" he demanded.

Einarr leaned forward. "It's means whore. That's what you are, isn't it?"

Finverior took a step back, clearly intimidated by Einarr and lowered his gaze. Einarr didn't want to admit it, but he enjoyed seeing the Bosmer become intimidated by him. The damn elf needed to be put in his place, and Einarr was more than happy to do it, especially after Finverior got his sister addicted to skooma.

Letting Finverior take the lead, Einarr walked right behind him. After a few hours of walking, Einarr realized they were heading to Dragon Bridge. It made sense that his sister would be hiding out somewhere nearby. The group walked all night and arrived at the small town just after dawn.

"Alright, where is she?" Vilkas asked.

"She's probably up in the inn, sleeping off a hangover," Finverior explained, walking over to the Four Shields Tavern.

Einarr followed him inside, Brynjolf and Vilkas right behind him, and they looked around the tavern. It was practically empty, the only two people out in the tavern area were two women, cleaning up the mess from anyone who came in the night before. The older woman looked up when the door opened and flashed a smile at them.

"Welcome," she greeted. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes, I'm looking for a friend of mine," Finverior said. "She should have spent the night here."

"Was she a Nord girl with auburn hair, wearing black armor?" the other woman, a Breton, asked.

"Aye, have you seen her?" Einarr nodded.

"She was here," the Breton nodded. "She had been drinking quite a lot and then she started pulling out bottles of skooma."

"We tried to explain to her that we didn't allow that kind of activity in our inn," the older woman added. "And when we threatened to call the guards, she ran out without paying her tab."

Vilkas stepped forward. "Where did she go?"

"Well, we shouted at the guards to follow her," the older woman continued. "They ran after her, and my worker Julienne went with them."

"We followed her all the way across the bridge," the Breton girl, Julienne told them. "But she was very fast. We were still on her trail though, and then..."

When she trailed off Einarr tensed. "And then?"

Julienne shifted a bit. "We found signs of a struggle. There was blood on the road and we found her bow. The guards told us we could have it to compensate for our losses."

"Do you still have the bow?" Brynjolf asked.

The innkeeper nodded and went to retrieve the bow from behind the bar. It was made of ebony and held an enchantment.

"That's the bow Karliah gave to her," Brynjolf sighed, pulling out a bulging coin purse and dropping several septims on a table. "I'll be taking that back."

The innkeeper gave Brynjolf the bow. "We don't know exactly what happened, but the guards seem to think your friend was taken."

Einarr clenched his hands into fists and growled angrily. Beside him, Vilkas was equally tense and furious.

"What do we do now?" Brynjolf asked.

Einarr looked right at the thief. "We track down my sister."

oOo

"Have the scouts from Solitude returned yet?" Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak asked as he stood over the map of Skyrim in the war room.

"Not yet, Ulfric," his general Galmar replied. "But they should return any day now."

"It's been nearly a month, and Vittoria Vici was killed over a week ago," he grumbled. "Why is it taking them so damn long to get back?"

"The roads are filled with Imperials these days, they're probably being careful not to be seen."

Ulfric's nostrils flared and his eyes skimmed across the map as he stared at the location of Solitude. When word arrived that the Emperor's cousin was getting married, Ulfric dispatched a group of soldiers to travel to the capital and note the layout to see if the Imperials had made any changes to the city that could trouble them when it came time to march on Solitude. He thought that his spies would only be gone for two weeks and his patience was starting to wear thin.

He was stressed enough, leading an army, but to make matters worse, the crime around his city was getting worse. And it wasn't even the Butcher anymore. For the past six months, two thieves kept returning to Solitude and stealing from several houses. He didn't know much about the Bosmer, but he knew his partner all too well. His younger half-sister, Lassarina.

The guards had realized it was her about two months after the crime wave started. She had done a good job at hiding her identity from them, but then she had made a mistake when she used her Thu'um to escape from the city. Once it reached Ulfric's ear that the thief terrorizing the city was his own sister, the Jarl had made catching her a top priority. It was insulting enough that the last time he spoke to his sister nearly a year ago, she had punched him, but to have her steal from his people? He had had enough of her thievery and wanted nothing more than to have her locked up.

But his reasons for wanting her locked up went past ending her crime spree. The truth of the matter was, if Ulfric wanted to win this war, he needed his sister. As the Dragonborn, she would be beloved by all of Skyrim. If he were to get Lassarina's support then the rest of Skyrim might just support the Stormcloaks' cause as well. Unfortunately, his sister was less than agreeable to join his cause.

While she was a true Nord, one who worshiped Talos and defended Skyrim with the Companions, Lassarina hated Ulfric with every fiber of her being. And he had to admit she had every right to hate him. While he had been imprisoned in Markarth, his father had bedded Lassarina's mother and sired another child. Another heir to Windhelm. He hadn't even known about his new sister until he had been released from prison and returned to Windhelm, receiving the news from his steward. He called upon his father's mistress, ordering her to bring her child as well. She was only a year old at the time, but one look into his sister's wide eyes and he had felt immediately threatened. It was almost as if he could sense that she would grow up to be a kind-hearted woman that everyone would adore.

He couldn't find it in his heart to order the infant's death, so he had decided to simply banish Lassarina from Windhelm, offering her mother Edana one hundred septims a month if she swore to never return to the city and to never tell Lassarina of her parentage. In time, he forgot all about the child that could potentially threaten his position as Jarl. But then one day a dragon attacked the gates, only to be defeated by two Dragonborn. He had recognized her the moment she walked up to the throne, her blue eyes the same as they had been all those years ago.

He would have never guessed that the sibling he had banished would return to Windhelm one day, known to everyone as the Dragonborn. Ulfric immediately knew that he had to convince his sister to join his cause, to try and make amends for what he had done to her. He wanted to try and get her to like him before he revealed to her that they were siblings. But he hadn't anticipated that Edana's son would have remembered her relation to Ulfric and come down storming like a madman. Ulfric tried to turn the situation to his favor by getting Lassarina angry at Einarr, and he had succeeded, but she still bore hatred for him as well.

Ulfric sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so. "It shouldn't have taken them this long."

"They'll get here soon enough, Ulfric," Galmar reassured him. "You should get something to drink. A good mead will calm your nerves."

Ulfric cracked a smile to his second-in-command and closest friend. "Aye, let's go get one then."

The two of them walked out of the war room and into the main hall, stepping right up to the long table in the center of the room and grabbing two tankards, already filled with mead. They stood and drank from the tankards, discussing a new battle strategy, when the doors to the keep suddenly opened, letting in a rush of cold air. Ulfric turned to look at who had come in and was surprised to see one of the spies he had sent walk inside. The man looked exhausted, breathing heavily and bearing what looked like scratches on his face.

"Jarl Ulfric, we've returned from Solitude," the soldier panted, walking over to him and Galmar.

"What in Talos's name took you all so long?" Ulfric demanded. "You shouldn't have been gone longer than two weeks."

"We ran into some trouble on the road."

"What the hell did that to your face?" Galmar asked, leaning closer to inspect the scabbed over scratches on his face.

"That was the trouble," the soldier explained.

"What, did you have a run in with a hagraven?" Galmar chuckled.

The soldier ran his hand across the worst of the scratches. "She might as well have been a hagraven."

"Who did that to you?" Ulfric asked.

The soldier smiled. "We were on our way back to Windhelm but delayed traveling after we heard some interesting news. If you'll follow me to the prison, you'll be pleased to see what we found."

Ulfric exchanged a look with Galmar before nodding to the soldier and having him lead them to the prison. When they arrived, Ulfric spotted the other scouts he had sent out, noting that they all bore bruises and scratches as well. One of the soldiers had even gotten stabbed in the belly. His curiosity was becoming overwhelming, and Ulfric was eager to find out exactly who caused such injuries to his soldiers.

Finally the soldier stopped by one of the cells and stood a safe distance from the bars. "Don't get too close. She'll reach right through the bars."

Ulfric turned and peered into the dark cell, his eyes widening in shock. Galmar gasped beside him and turned to the soldier.

"How did you catch her?"

"We had heard that the Dragonborn had killed a dragon just outside of Solitude and we waited near Dragon Bridge to ambush her," the soldier explained. "She gave us quite a bit of trouble the entire trip back."

An angry scream echoed from within the cell and Ulfric stepped forward, standing right in front of the bars. Two hands shot out and grabbed at his clothes, pulling him closer so she could glare right at him. Ulfric merely grinned and looked her right in the eyes.

"It's good to see you again," he said. "Lassarina."

Man! Lassarina can't catch a break! You know, you wonder how anyone would be able to catch the Dragonborn like that... But she's all drugged up, drunk and no longer has her heightened werewolf senses. Must have been pretty easy for the Stormcloaks to restrain her... But she did fight back the entire trip. Next chapter you get to read about Skooma withdrawal... I'm going to have to watch a few movies for this one... The only thing I'm addicted to is reading... Seriously, I used to get in trouble in school for reading during class...

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and remember to Fave/Follow/Review!

Much love,

Mirage