Author's note: non-consensual encounter flashback in this chapter (in italics)


The Price of Betrayal: Falkreath pt. 2

Despite the storm abating in the night, Arn and Lydia were in for a rude surprise the next morning when they found their horses were gone from the Falkreath stables.

Even more disconcerting, no one seemed to know anything about it, and prodding the guards more intently only drew the ire of the Imperial Legionnaires, who promptly had Legate Skulnar come out and order them to leave the guards alone.

When Arn questioned Skulnar about investigating their horses' disappearance, Skulnar simply glared back before replying.

"I've no time for such nonsense, but if you really need horses, I hear you're very good at getting the Jarls to give you things" he sneered to chuckles from the other Legionnaires before whirling and retreating back into the barracks.

Arn glared his response at Skulnar's back before whirling and indicating Lydia toward the general store labeled "Gray Pine Goods."

When they entered, they surprised a pair of blonde Nord men, both so alike in appearance, that Arn figured them for brothers if not twins. They had been hunched over the counter whispering between themselves and jerked back startled when Arn edged the door open.

As soon as Arn saw them, that itching on his neck returned.

Why whisper when you're the only two people in the room? Arn wondered as he and Lydia made their way to the counter.

"I am Solaf and this is Bolund. Welcome to Gray Pine Goods. What can we sell you now that the storm has passed" greeted the one in the brown vest in a cheerful manner while the other looked a bit sour that they'd been interrupted.

"We need to pick up some supplies before we head out. Wondering what you have for sale?" Arn stated as he not-so-accidentally jingled his coinpurse to let them know he was a serious buyer.

"Well, I'll admit our stocks aren't as good as they would be normally, but we still have a few things you'll find useful out on the road. What are ya looking for?" Solaf returned as he glanced back to his own shelves.

"Well, we're interested in any potions you have as well as food rations and maybe some pelts if they're winterized. Also, I was wondering-" Arn started to relay before the other brother, Bolund, interrupted them.

"Hey, you...you're Imperial. Aren't you?" he suddenly barked at a surprised Lydia.

"Bolund, calm down. They're only here to-" Solaf started to reason before Bolund continued, louder and more irritated than before.

"Tell me! Are you an Imperial or not?!" he slapped the counter.

Arn was going to gently pull Lydia away from the angry Nord behind the counter, but she stood her ground, glaring back at Bolund.

"HALF Imperial, and a lot more Nord than you with your haughty attitude" she spat back at him.

"See brother, here's another one! Stomping around our lands, taking our goods, our jobs, our homes, and not a whit of an apology! Instead, they think they own the place, just like those Legionnaires!" Bolund hissed, glancing back and forth between Lydia and Solaf.

"If you can't see past someone's skin, maybe you shouldn't be a merchant" Arn grunted, placing himself at the counter between Bolund and Lydia.

"I'll not be selling anything to Imperial dogs and the cowards who bow to them! Just look at what your kind has done to our town! Skyrim for the Nords and the Nords for Skyrim!" Bolund spat angrily as he backed away before turning and marching up the stairs and out of the room.

"Oh..uh...sorry about that. Don't listen to him. He's...just upset that times are tough right now" Solaf tried to apologize as he nervously tapped the counter, casting his eyes down.

"He seems more than 'a little worked up'" Arn grumbled, warily eyeing the stairs where Bolund had disappeared.

"He's always been a bit hot headed" Solaf tried to chuckle dismissively.

"What has everyone so on edge here?" Arn queried, leaning on the counter and fixing the merchant with a scrutinizing glare.

"Well...eh...Winter is always difficult" he chuckled half heartedly.

"I've never seen guards behave the way these do, and everyone... EVERYONE has been watching us like a hawk...WHY?" Arn practically demanded.

Solaf gulped and grew visibly uneasy before he seemed to remember something and glared directly back at Arn.

"Because the Empire feels sacrificing this hold is worth it to hold open the cursed southern pass!" he spat, growing emotional.

"You sound like you share your brother's sympathies" Arn replied in a cautionary tone.

"A lot of folk around here do. We were doing just fine until that son of a swine Siddgeir used the Legion to supplant Dengeir of Stuhn as Jarl" he hissed with quivering lips.

"We saw Dengeir in the tavern" Lydia stated, giving voice to Arn's puzzlement how a capable man was somehow ousted from being Jarl, but remained living comfortably in the same city.

Jarls just didn't step down, and the only way one got changed was through death, prosecution of a serious crime, or in a few rare cases, banishment by unanimous vote of a Moot of the rest of the Jarls.

"Dengeir is Siddgeir's uncle. The sot was too cowardly to just have him killed. Instead, he lets him live nearby, just watching him ruin everything in Falkreath" Solaf muttered before he grew emotional and sat down on a stool behind the counter.

"How did that happen?" Arn asked, suddenly feeling maybe they needed to whisper, despite no one else being there.

"Stop asking questions! No good will come of it! I'm tired of making excuses and groveling out a few septims here and there. There aren't even any proper women here anymore! If you want answers, maybe you should go ask the ones with everything!" huffed Solaf, gesturing over in the direction of the Jarl's Longhouse and the Imperial Legion barracks.

Arn relented, suddenly feeling that maybe he owed them an apology, but even as he was purchasing a few winterized furs, he caught sight of Bolund coming back down the stairs, his gaze was still full of anger and still entirely focused on Lydia.

Making their way back to the Inn and collecting their things, they set out on foot North through the freshly fallen snow.

Recognizing that the mobility of any would-be thieves and bandits would be hampered by the freshly fallen snow, Arn and Lydia pushed hard to make as much progress as quickly as they could.

Dusk was casting shadows through the snow blanketed forest as Arn and Lydia trudged through the final drifts before making it into the clearing in front of the cabin supposedly belonging to Sinding.

Arn noted there were fresh tracks and some bloody kills hanging in the shed nearby.

"Hold right there!" hissed a voice from one of the windows as Arn tried to approach.

"My name is Arnsmyth Bulgoar and this is my Housecarl Lydia. I am the one they call 'The Dragonborn'. We were sent by Jarl Siddgeir. They said you were familiar with the land in this hold. We'd be willing to hire you as a guide" Arn explained, keeping his arms away from his weapons, despite the uneasiness of the situation.

"The Jarl sent you, did he?" returned the voice, still uneasy.

"Both he and Nenya assured us you could help. We aren't familiar with the area or the terrain" Arn tried to sound calm and reassuring.

After a short silence, they heard the bar being removed from the door before it was unlatched and opened to reveal a wiry, but muscled blonde Nord man in fur armor glance out at them.

He glanced quickly around as if worried someone might be watching before quickly motioning them in.

Tired and relieved to get out of the snow drifts, Arn and Lydia both heaved sighs of relief as they entered the warmth of the small cabin.

After negotiating a price, Arn sat down next to Lydia on the floor as Sinding eyed over the septims Arn had just paid as if he was concerned they might be fake.

"I guess he doesn't get many people up here" Lydia whispered to Arn.

"Probably not, even less with the bandit problem" Arn muttered as he began to think through what to do next.

"What did they tell you in town?" Sinding huffed almost in a vexed manner as he stuff his septims away in something before crossing his arms and scrutinizing them both.

"That bandits were controlling the passes...and that we'd find out more outside the town than inside" Arn replied, returning the wary gaze.

"I suppose that's true, though I've not been in town since last Winter" Sinding continued eyeing them over.

"I need details. Who are they? How many are there? Exactly where do they camp?" Arn asked, hoping to get some indication of what this Sinding character knew.

"Just cause I know the land doesn't mean I know everyone who's here and what they're doing" he huffed again, looking away for a moment before continuing "Best bet to find out what's going on is to talk to the other hunters."

"Are there a lot of hunters here this time of year?" Lydia queried, a little puzzled that anyone would stay out in the wilds during the worst parts of the seasons.

"You really don't know much about Falkreath, do you?" Sinding frowned back.

"No...we don't" Arn resisted the urge to get short with the man despite his apparent annoyance to their intrusion in his life.

"Falkreath's only real business outside of being a gateway to Cyrodiil is furs from the abundant woods and mountains surrounding it. There's plenty of game all year round. Even during the harshest winter months, there's still plenty of game to be found in higher elevations or taking cover in sheltered valleys, caves, and grottos" Sinding replied, gazing past them out the window, a slight grin crossing his features for the first time since they'd seen him.

"You enjoy the life of a hunter?" Lydia more assumed than asked.

"I've done it all my life. There's nothing like it. You're free to wonder the god's creation, worship however you please, pit yourself against its creatures, make yourself into whatever you want. Fortunes can be made with good furs, especially when harsher winters hit further south where they aren't expecting it. There's a few hunters that have very big, expensively built cabins in the mountains" Sinding continued, a slight smile returning.

"There's no one to bother you. No one to crack a whip over your head, or scream politics at ya. No one to vex you with taxes or any other nonsense like that" he mused before taking a swig of presumably water from a canteen pouch.

"Until now..." Arn interjected.

"Bandits are an occasional problem. Anytime you meet someone you don't know in the wilds, there can be trouble" Sinding seemed to shrug it away.

"So how did this end up the way it is then?" Arn persisted.

"Heh, you can blame it on the war...I suppose" Sinding scowled at Arn before looking out the window again.

"Wouldn't the war make it harder for bandits?" Lydia puzzled.

"Nah...the armies stay in the south and west areas, fighting each other and using up all the wild game as rations of their own. It makes everyone else have to go elsewhere. Used to have a way open east, then the Dragon attack on Helgen changed all that" Sinding shrugged before drinking from his canteen again.

An awkward silence fell on the bunch until Sinding piped up again.

"What makes you think you can take on a bunch of bandits by yourself?" he squinted his eyes at Arn as if probing for some secret.

"Depends how many there are, besides, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve" Arn tried to smile confidently as the itching on his neck flared up slightly again.

"Ask me tomorrow morning, and I'll show you why I'm called 'The Dragonborn'" Arn replied, thinking over how he would actually deal with a bunch of bandits and realizing it probably seemed like a suicidal task to someone who knew nothing of what he'd done or what he could do.

As they set out their bedrolls on the floor for the night, Arn couldn't help scratching his neck and wondering why he kept getting the fierce itching at seeming random intervals.

"Do you see any signs of a rash on my neck?" he whispered to Lydia, pulling his collar back and craning his neck so Lydia could see.

"There's nothing visible there" she whispered back before handling his leather collar around to see if there was any rash further to the sides or back "I don't see any sign of anything unusual. What's wrong?"

"It's just...I've been getting this itching...right here" he indicated on the back of his neck with his fingers "It's not constant. It seems to just appear and then disappear almost by chance"

"You think it's something to do with being the Dragonborn?" Lydia muttered quietly after casting a look over at Sinding's slightly snoring form in his bed.

"But it didn't start until I went to Riften..." Arn puzzled.

"Did Ingun do something to it?" Lydia snapped in a more worried tone.

"No...no one did anythi-wait" Arn muttered as his memory of Nocturnal running her lips across the base of his neck replayed in his mind.

"What is it?" Lydia whispered, her proximity and touch at his neck unwillingly sending Arn's mind wandering about what it would be like to have her kissing the base of his neck.

"Uh..um...in my meeting with...Nocturnal...she...kissed that spot" Arn muttered, for the moment caught up with the soft breaths of Lydia falling on his neck at that moment.

"Did she? You think it means something special?" Lydia whispered, almost right by his ear.

Arn gulped, unsure if Lydia was purposefully trying to be seductive or if he was just that responsive to the ministrations she was using to investigate his complaint.

"I don't know. I've felt it flare up the most right before I was ambushed outside of Riften and then again later when the Thieves' Guild confronted us after Mercer Frey's hideout, but I've also felt it slightly some other times...like when we talked to Siddgeir yesterday and a little bit just before when Sinding was talking" Arn whispered, casting a glance at Sinding's sleeping form again.

"Do you want me to put anything on it? We still have one disease curing potion" Lydia opined before gently running two fingers across his neck, her touch requiring all of Arn's willpower not to shudder with desire. Once again, he found himself fighting the urge to just turn and take her on top of their bedrolls right there and then.

Sighing with resignation and more than a little disappointment, Arn decided they should save the potions.

"We might need them later and who knows when we'll find more. Best get some sleep" he murmured, gently removing her hand from his neck and giving it a gentle squeeze before moving to set two precautionary sound traps on the floor by their bedrolls.

He momentarily worried about getting any sleep with Lydia snuggled at his back next to him, but their trek through snow drifts all day ensured he was blissfully asleep within minutes.

The next day found Arn and Sinding out in the early morning dawn eyeing over trees nearby.

"Those two on the right" Sinding muttered while pointing at the two larger pine trees at the base of a rocky hill "That's where I plan on putting my smoke shed"

"Okay" Arn answered before sauntering to about fifteen feet away from them off to one side.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The wave of force shattered the trunks of both trees at their base and sent the tall timbers crashing to the forest floor amid a large POOF of snowy powder.

Sinding hopped over to him through the snow, staring wide eyed back and forth between Arn and the downed trees.

"That's...that's really something!" he gasped for a moment before returning to his aloof demeanor from before "I suppose that's not all you can do?"

"You'll see when the time is right" Arn answered, not willing to indulge the man's unintentional-intentional curiosity into Arn's abilities.

Setting out from Sinding's cabin, Sinding explained they needed to reach a Hunter's camp and trading post, a place about a day's journey Northwest known as Hunter's Rest.

Though, Arn knew he probably shouldn't be, he was still surprised at how fast Sinding negotiated the snowy terrain. It took a lot of effort on his and Lydia's part to keep up with him and they left far more of a trail behind than Sinding did.

As a precaution, Sinding kept them off the road, weaving through clusters of trees and rocky ravines.

At length, Sinding motioned them to stop and hunched down, cautiously eyeing ahead.

Arn could barely make out a shack of some sort through the trees, but something seemed wrong. Sinding was on high alert. He motioned them to wait while he scouted around to one side, leaving Arn and Lydia crouched quietly in the snow.

"Are we going to ask him about Sky Haven Temple?" Lydia whispered next to him.

"We need to deal with this bandit problem first. Maybe that'll get some of these people from breathing down our necks. It will also tell us how good Sinding knows the area" Arn whispered back, still keeping his eyes scanning the woods.

After what seemed like a long time, they spotted Sinding peak out from behind a tree and motion them to come in. Still moving quietly, they moved in toward the camp, but quickly discovered something was very wrong.

The door was battered open.

Investigating inside revealed that the two hunters who'd been inside had been brutally murdered, hacked to pieces and the place had been ransacked.

There were only wolf tracks in the snow, clearly not the culprits, and no blood spatters were on the fallen snow.

"How long ago do you think this happened?" Arn asked Sinding, eyeing over the scene.

"Hard to say...at least two or three days judging from the lack of any sign on the snow" Sinding muttered, kneeling down to eye the ground at the doorway.

"What do we do know?" Lydia whispered, her sword and shield out as she watched cautiously around outside the cabin.

"We'll have to go further to the south and west. There's a big camp there that Hunters often use during the Winter months called Knifepoint Ridge" Sinding muttered, pulling a fur hood over his head as the wind whipped up momentarily.

"You don't seem thrilled at that idea" Arn muttered, seeing the change in Sinding's demeanor.

"I'm not as familiar with the men there, and they can be very...unfriendly if they don't know you" Sinding replied as they set off again.

Emerging from the mostly wooded ridges of the mountains, they ditched the sneaking approach and made all speed they could to reach this Knifepoint Ridge before night fall.

As they began to wind their way up the base of another mountain, they spotted the encampment further up the winding pathways that ended in a lumbered series of walls and gates. Seeing it, Sinding pulled them aside.

"There's no telling how many Hunters are here and they might not be friendly to any outsiders, but I know a few of them. Just stay calm and let me do the talking. You draw any weapons and this will end in a blood bath real fast" Sinding cautioned before casting a glance back up the trail.

Lydia looked at Arn, who nodded.

As they slowly made their way up the paths, Arn's neck slowly began to itch more and more. Nearing the top, it was nearing the point of pain.

Arn stopped and cast a look at Lydia that told her everything she needed to know.

Sinding turned and saw them both stopped at the narrow point on the path before it opened up in front of the fort.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

Lydia looked at Arn again before getting Chillrend and her shield at the ready.

"What's wrong with him?" Sinding brushed past Lydia, where Arn cringing as he took cover from the ambush surely coming from the fort.

"I told you not to draw weapons!" hissed Sinding angrily as Arn ignored him completely, readying his shield and Dawnbreaker.

"They plan to ambush us" Arn muttered, cringing again as the itching grew even stronger "Lydia, move to the left flank"

Arn had thought for sure to surprise the ambushers, but what he'd failed to reckon was that the itching on his neck didn't mean an ambush. It meant a betrayal.

Even as he pointed Lydia where to go, moving to follow suit, Sinding produced a wooden club and cracked Arn hard upside the head with it, sending Arn tumbling off the narrow pathway and rolling over the side of the ledge and off a cliff.

Arn never saw the blow coming. He didn't see the gates opening and dark figures pouring out. He didn't hear Lydia screaming his name as she dropped her weapons and vainly dove to grab his falling form. He didn't see the terror on her face as she reached out for him. He didn't see Sinding's club strike her on the back of the head as many pairs of hands appeared to latch hold of her and drag her away. All he knew was darkness taking him as he fell...


Laughing, she remembered the laughing as they grabbed and pulled at her armor pieces. She knew what was coming. Why wouldn't they at least let her see what happened to Donrir, Cassily, and the others.

Even as she fought to move her limbs, she could feel two blades scything through her tunic and hands fumbling with her smallclothes. She tried to scream, yell defiantly, anything. Instead, she was held spread eagled by multiple hands on each limb before another hand grabbed her by the neck and forced her to look up at him, instead of toward the road where she wanted to look.

Jorgund Stormtamer hovering over her, leering angrily at her. He let spittle run from his mouth down onto her face, unable to do anything to stop it.

"You're on my land, bitch!" he spat, lowering his face in front of her "Time to pay the toll!" he grinned to the laughs and chuckles of all around as he and some of the others began unhitching their trousers...She wanted to say something, show some defiance, but he tightened his grip on her throat...

Lydia gasped awake with a start, only to find herself tied to a post down in what appeared to be a mine shaft lit by lanterns at intervals.

Hyperventilating for a moment, she gulped and relaxed as she realized she was still fully clothed and still had her armor on.

She could not move, though. They had bound her hands behind her back and bound her legs together from ankle to knee. As if that wasn't enough, she was further bound to the beam itself by many strands of rope.

As she began to shift around to figure out if there was any give to it, a sudden commotion erupted just around the corner.

She stilled herself as a half dozen dark forms emerged from whatever was around the corner and stood for a moment staring back at her.

They were all men attired in various types of leather and steel armors, and all Nord, except for one orc. Sinding was among them.

"You didn't clip her hard enough Sinding" grunted the orc.

"I'm tellin' ya, we should just slit her throat and be done with it" exclaimed a younger looking one.

"Until you can be sure the Dragonborn's dead, we have to keep her as insurance" ordered Sinding.

"Who said we can't have some fun with her, though" chuckled a burly one with a finely manicured beard.

"Can't you think about anything besides ravaging women" snarled Sinding.

"Women were made for ravaging...or they wouldn't have so many holes" chuckled the burly one before glaring back at Sinding "or is all this just you wanting her for your own"

"Yes, well, your attitude is why Tsrasuna and Ahjissi left" barked another angrily.

"Those furry bitches left because they were thieving Khajiits and knew that sooner or later one of us'd catch on to them snitching stuff from us" retorted the burly one again.

"The longer we waste here, the more likely someone or something else will find the Dragonborn's body and make off with all the money" Sinding piped up again.

They all moved off to the left and up an incline, except for the burly one, who turned to cast a roving eye across her bound form before Sinding barked from further up the passage "Torkild, you know the rules!"

Torkild grumbled to himself before turning and departing. Lydia sighed with relief as she heard a heavy door up and off to her left open and close again.

Her heart had soared at the revelation that they had found no body, even though she'd seen Arn tumble off a cliff with her own eyes, but now she fought back tears at the thought of his broken body lying somewhere...alone and dying.

Even as emotions welled in her and memories threatened to overwhelm her mind, she breathed slowly in and out, squinting her eyes to shut out the doubts and fears. She was not helpless. She would escape. They had not found Arn's body, and so until they did, there was no reason to think Arn was actually dead, and if he wasn't dead, he was injured and gravely needed her.

If he wasn't gravely injured, then he would surely come for her, and then all these sots would be sorry they'd ever even entertained the thought of betraying them.

Looking around, she hoped to find something to use somehow in escaping. All she could see were crates, furs, and barrels. The closest thing to a weapon was a rusty pickaxe on top of a few crates.

After awhile of glancing around to the point of nearly hurting her neck, she spied a small stone with a jagged edge on the sandy floor nearby.

Jerking and writhing violently, she couldn't do anything to get herself closer. She tried a different tactic, instead trying to turn herself slightly so as to bring her bound beet back up under her on one side. Hopefully, she could reach far enough with her feet to scoot the stone close enough to grab in her bound hands.

After what seemed a long time of writhing and turning, she finally got past the fulcrum point and scooted the stone, along with a bunch of sand and soot to the base of her bound hands, grabbing it up like it was food to a starving person.

Her good fortunes ended there, though, as the door up the left passage opened and closed again and voices flooded the tunnel.

This time, there were a lot more men that came in, and they all slowed or stopped to leer at her before moving on, to her relief.

Sinding was one of the last to come by.

Seeing her glare of death at him, he stopped and sauntered over before leaning down in front of her, looking into her eyes as if trying to find something else there.

"Don't look at me like that" he murmured at her before glancing back to find Torkild glare at them both as he sauntered by.

"Really, how exactly should one look upon filth then?" she sneered, her anger with the man getting the better of her.

"I had to do what I did" he grew serious.

"That's what they all say" Lydia scoffed dismissively.

Sinding's hands suddenly trembled in rage and faster than Lydia would've thought possible, he reached out and grabbed her head, thumping it back against the post and forcing her to look him in the eye as he leaned in.

"What would any of you know? You and your...'Dragonborn'? You come here with all your finely crafted armors and weapons, laden with fur and coins. You think you're 'benevolent' to come and help out us poor besotted fools who can't handle our own hold" he hissed right into her face.

"Your arrogance has cost you. I'm not even one of them, but I can sympathize with the plight of bandits in times like these" he continued, Lydia noting the change in his eye color from a light blue to almost silver or white.

"You're with them. How can you not be one of them?" Lydia gritted from the unyielding grip he held on her head.

"I need their help. They want you and the Dragonborn's spoils. It's a fair trade. Your weapons and armors alone should fetch a good price in one of the towns or outposts, not to mention the hefty bag of coin I know the Dragonborn was carrying on him."

"Why would you need their help?" Lydia asked again, vexed that Sinding wasn't making much sense.

Sinding seemed to shudder for a moment before he stared wildly at his hands and then felt himself strangely as if to confirm he was still there before releasing her as if touching her were poison and quickly shuffling away down the right passage.

Lydia had a hard time making sense of it, but put it out of her mind as she began sawing away at the bindings on her wrists with the small stone she'd gotten off the ground.

She heard mutterings and talk for a good long while, not sure how long it was or what time of day even. All that mattered to her were the bindings on her wrists, slowly weakening and dwindling under the sawing from her small stone.

She had just gotten through enough of them to start working her hands loose when she heard someone in the passage.

Freezing for a moment, she gulped in fear as the burly Nord called Torkild crept around the corner.

She thought about calling out, but feared that might end worse for her. Besides, maybe...maybe she could make this work in her favor.

Settling down in front of her after glancing cautiously around, he held a finger to his lips.

"Shh...now love. I've got a deal for you. You've heard what they plan to do with ya once they've got their coins. You're too pretty a lass to end up as supper for wolves. You do a good job with that pretty little mouth of yours on me and I'll make sure you stay in my quarters. No one will be killing ya and no one else will touch ya if I buy you with my share. Come on now...Whadda ya say?" he whispered as he glanced around again before rising to his feet and beginning to unbuckle his breeches.

"Why...why don't we do this the right way?" Lydia gulped down her repulsion, thinking quickly of her options as she wriggled her hands just enough to know they'd be free if she got unbound from the pillar.

Torkild must not have expected her to agree to anything because her statement stunned him for a moment before he squinted at her as if he didn't get it.

"Unbind me from this thing and you can take me however you like" Lydia whispered to mask her fear that her acting was poor.

Torkild's eyes lit up at that, but fear of the others forced him to turn and glance behind him again.

"Please, I haven't even been able to take a piss all day" Lydia pretended to plead.

"Any way I want right?" Torkild hissed, rapidly scooting around the pillar and beginning to undo the knot at the back.

"Yes, any way you want" Lydia whispered, knowing she only had seconds before he realized her hands were already unbound.

As he loosened the knots in the back, Lydia quickly wriggled away from the pole and used her hands to shuck the folds of rope up and over her head.

"Hey!" he hissed, turning and lunging at her.

While her hands and torso were free, Lydia's feet were still bound. So all she could do to avoid Torkild was roll to one side.

He still managed to get a hand on her leg as she tried and failed to reach the pickaxe sitting on a nearby crate.

They flailed around on the ground awkwardly for a moment. Thankfully, he was so intent on his conquest of her that he didn't bother calling for help.

Lydia knew she couldn't keep this up. He would gain the upper hand soon or someone would hear or find them.

Knowing he wouldn't expect it, she turned and launched herself at him, body slamming his head with her chest, her breast plate thunking his head against the floor with a THUD and Torkild screamed in pain into her bust as she grabbed her small stone off the floor again before sitting up on her knees and pounding his face and head with it and her still armored hands as mercilessly as she could.

She wasn't sure how long she kept this up, but she kept going until he stopped moving.

Breathing heavily and shaking, she realized her front was all spattered with his blood and his face was now a mush of bloody flesh.

Sighing with relief she reached down to his belt, pulled his dagger out, and finally freed herself of the ropes on her feet.

Standing up felt like a huge victory in and of itself as she looked at the bloody body on the ground and felt the growing pain in her tits and chest from the body slam.

She had a dagger. It wasn't the best, but it was something. Now to figure out how to get out of here, and find out what happened to Arn...


Author's Notes:

1. I was concerned Lydia was becoming too much of a damsel in distress, particularly since Arn's fighting always overshadows her. So I split them up to give Lydia a chance to fight on her own as well as exorcise some demons.

2. A little bit longer of a chapter than normal, but I figured folks would be fairly upset if I cut it off right after Arn went over the cliff.