Chapter 27 is up! Read & Enjoy.

Not long after daybreak, something triggered one of Edna's tripwires. The end tethered to the mouth of their shelter snapped against the stone with force, sounding the alarm as intended. Not that it was necessary, as it turned out. A second sound immediately followed, deep and angry. Whatever beast had wandered too close to them must have stumbled into one of Edna's traps as well. It let out a displeased growl that was loud enough to shake the entire forest awake.

At the very least, it pulled Asgeir from his sleep. The Nord jumped to his feet with enviable ease, his eyes fixed towards the cave exit.

Edna pushed herself up on her elbows. The movement was taxing on her tender sides, and it attracted Asgeir's gaze. She could tell that he wanted to ask her about it. About the traps. About the dangers she'd taken precautions to keep away from their hidden shelter.

Edna could read the questions plainly on his face, but Asgeir refused to voice them. Of course, he did. He'd made it clear that he didn't care for her words.

Edna did both of them a favour and turned her head away from him. She looked towards the outside wilderness. "It sounds like a bear." She said aloud. "There's a watering hole not too far from here. Predators would likely patrol around it."

The other Nord had nothing to say to that, but after a beat of silence, Edna heard him move. She twisted to face him and saw him rummaging through the supplies pack she'd left near the fire-pit. She wanted to ask him what he was looking for, but her question was answered when he pulled out a plain cotton shirt. She'd grabbed the piece of clothing out of the same dresser from where she'd stolen her Thalmor mage disguise. Like the robes, the shirt was designed to fit an Altmer, not a bulky Nord. Luckily, it was loose enough that Asgeir somehow managed to pull it over his head, but it was a snug fit still. The Nord wasn't half-naked anymore, but the cotton strained against the broadness of his chest and shoulders. Edna wasn't sure that it was much of an improvement at all.

All and any inappropriate thoughts died down when she noticed Asgeir lift her dagger from the ground. There was determination etched into the curl of his mouth and furrow of his brows. Edna pushed down sudden panic when she realised that he was heading outside.

"Where are you going?" She asked, voice shakier than she would have liked. "You cannot-" She rushed to push herself up on her knees, almost losing her balance as she tried to catch his eye. He walked past her without a glance. "What do you plan to do?" The thought that he would leave— leave her behind, here in this gods-forsaken hole in the ground, half bled-out and out of stamina and magicka—, was frankly terrifying.

The man paused at the cave entrance for a moment, and Edna waited for him to speak, or turn back. He did none of those things. The moment passed and he resumed his stride with renewed conviction. Edna could do nothing but watch as he ducked his head and disappeared out of sight.

Leaving her alone.

It wouldn't kill her, she rationalised with herself. It would prolong her suffering for a few days, at the most. 'And wouldn't you deserve it?' A small voice that sounded a bit too much like Asgeir's chimed in her mind.

Except, people didn't get what they deserved. They got what they took for themselves. And Edna very much refused to spend days in this cold and wet cave while her injuries healed. She refused to spend one more night on her back, hungry and putting up with the heavy silence.

"He's going to get himself killed out there." She muttered to herself as she laid back down on the ground. If she had hoped to console herself with the thought, it failed.

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Stepping outside felt like a weight had been lifted off Asgeir's chest. He could finally breathe. Think.

He went to explore the immediate surrounding of their shelter, taking his time. The past few days had been traumatic, and there was no mistaking the danger around him. Still, despite all the pain and violence, he found himself admiring the view.

High above him, there was an opening in the cavern's ceiling from where sunlight filtered through. The light painted the top of the trees in brilliant greens. The air was thick with morning mist and it smelled fresh. Clean. Like the first blades of grass after Winter's frost started to thaw.

There was undeniable beauty to the wildness surrounding him.

From where he stood, Asgeir could make out a natural passage. It went down towards the watering hole that the assassin had mentioned. Even further in the distance, there was more light streaming through a second opening into the wall of the cave. A way out, he imagined. Escape was within sight, an abstract shape obscured by mist and vegetation. And guarded by the looming threat of angry beasts.

He fought the urge to start walking. To start putting distance between himself and the horrible experience of the past few days. Or months, if he was being honest with himself. To just leave it all behind, dangers be damned.

Yet no matter how tempting the thought of freedom was, Asgeir was not one to act recklessly. Nor lie to himself.

He wouldn't be able to get back home alone. He had knowledge of the sword, as did all Show-Shod Nords before him, but he was a businessman at heart. Asgeir knew little of surviving in the wildness: of tracking or trapping or navigating using the stars. He would not be able to look for signs to avoid bears or wolves. He lacked the skills to cross the dangerous beauty in front of him. He had no sword, no armour, and no compass.

As much as it pained him, he knew that he needed the Last Dragonborn if he hoped to make it back to Riften. He needed her skills and experience.

For all her despicable character, the assassin was useful. She had proved that much when she'd fought her way out of a den of angry Thalmor with him in tow. When she'd stuck down a frost troll. And later, when she'd managed to find shelter for them inside this cavern.

Even if she was more of a dead weight than a fighting companion in her current state, Asgeir did need her.

It was a horrible truth to live with. Recently, all truths seemed to be difficult to bear.

The poisonous conversation he'd shared with the assassin just hours before was still looming over him. He did not want to let himself linger on the memory of Vittoria. Or on the revelation of the perverse reason behind her death. There was too high of a chance that the sadness would overwhelm him.

Asgeir chose to focus on something more heartening instead. The expression of dread and fear on the Dragonborn's face when she saw him go outside the shelter came to mind. It was a gratifying thing to witness the vile woman fumble to stop him from leaving. Asgeir had all intentions to return, but she had no way of knowing that. And he had no obligation to share the information with her.

The shock of waking up stripped half-naked in a Thalmor torture room was still fresh in Asgeir's memory. As was the phantom pain of the assassin's dagger hitting him between his brows. The echo of her cold apology. She'd left him to be captured by the Thalmor in the first place. Let her worry, he thought to himself. Let her panic at the thought that she'd been abandoned.

"Serves her right." He muttered as he followed the broken tripwire towards the watering hole. He'd found little signs of whatever animal had triggered it on his way down. Asgeir scouted the surrounding areas next. He trod carefully, holding tight to the dagger he'd borrowed. He paid attention to signs of hostile wildlife.

It was only because he was so vigilant that he had any warning at all. Asgeir heard the soft rustle of the grass behind him and turned to the left. He did so just in time to catch a glimpse of the cave bear as it leapt out from behind the trees. It gave him a moment to react, and he moved out of the way before the beast could pin him to the ground.

"By Ysmir!" He swore, lifting the dagger in front of him and holding onto it like a lifeline. The bear, a hulking mass of muscles and dark fur, shook its head with an aggressive grunt and turned towards Asgeir. Its movements were a bit slow, and it didn't take more than a look to figure out why.

"So, you're the one that stepped into the trap..." Asgeir spoke softly, eyeing the bear's bleeding back leg. The fact that the bear was injured was both good and bad news. The wound had slowed down the beast, and it might give Asgeir a chance to escape. At the same time, it also meant that the beast was angry, and more desperate, and that could end poorly for the Nord.

The animal let out another deep growl and eyed Asgeir with its beady eyes. The man bent his knees and planted his feet into the ground, readying himself for a fight.

The bear charged again, his mouth open to show its impressive teeth. In response, Asgeir rolled to the side, slashing at the beast's hide as he went. The bear let out a terrible roar and swept one of its huge limbs in a wide downwards arc. Its claws left marks into the earth where Asgeir had been standing just moments before.

Thinking on his feet, Asgeir started moving up towards the trees. The bear was injured, after all. It would have a harder time chasing him at full speed over the system of roots and broken stone covering the higher ground.

Realising that its prey was trying to escape only made the bear angrier. Asgeir did not have much time before the animal came charging once again. It tried to use its large paws to grab onto Asgeir's legs and pull the man towards it. Asgeir let out a pained howl of his own when the bear succeeded. Sharp claws dug into Asgeir's calf and tugged, the pull of it dragging the man down on his backside. Asgeir twisted and used his dagger to stab at the limb holding him down, and one of the hits managed to stab deep. The animal's hold loosened, and Asgier was able to pull his leg away.

Breathing shakily, Asgeir forced himself to his feet. While the animal was distracted cradling its injured paw, he turned tail. Ignoring his bleeding calf, Asgeir made a run for the treeline.

The bear's angry roars boomed behind him. He could swear that he could feel the animal's heavy, wet, breathing on the back of his neck. A trick of the mind or not, Asgeir didn't allow himself to slow down, or look back.

Cutting through the vegetation with powerful swings of his arms, he made it past the first cluster of trees. He didn't stop running, though. He kept going until he couldn't hear any movement behind him anymore.

Finally, he allowed himself to stop and catch his breath. He found himself leaning with his back against the stone shelter he'd been so eager to escape. Asgeir wasn't quite sure if he'd meant to return here when he'd started running, but he didn't dwell too hard on that.

Once he felt strong enough to stand without heaving, he straightened himself up. After doing one last check of his surroundings, he headed inside.

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Asgeir strolled back into the shelter without a word, catching Edna fully unprepared.

She paused in the middle of cleaning her wounds and tried not to flush when she saw his eyes travel slowly up her body. They trailed over her naked stomach and ribs, the underside of her breasts.

The woman hastily pushed her tattered undershirt down. She winced when the fabric chafed her sensitive skin.

Asgeir, expectedly, had nothing to say at the sight of her. He moved deeper into the shelter and sat down by the cold fire-pit. Then, he reached for her supplies pack again and Edna fought down her annoyance at his behaviour.

Sure, she wasn't in any position to argue about properness or property, but there were limits to what Edna would put up with. He'd already taken her dagger. She'd bled for him, both to save his life and to satisfy his anger. She had to suffer healing slowly because she'd used up all her health potions on him. And he'd left her. When she'd been almost grovelling for his attention, he'd treated her as if she was invisible. He had disappeared into the wildness without sparing her a look. Or a word of reassurance.

Now, he was back and had the gall to handle her things as if they belonged to him. Edna's patience was great, as required of any skilled assassin, but it was not endless.

There was fury in her gaze as she dug her fingers into the flesh of her thigh to steady herself. She straightened her spine and turned to Asgeir, ready to spit fire. She was not some piece of decor or a bag of flesh for him to ignore—

"Do you have a plan?" He spoke first, throwing her off-centre, and Edna hated him more for it. "To get us back to our own lives."

At her blank stare, he lifted a golden brow and pushed himself to his full height. Or near it, as the ceiling of their shelter was not quite tall enough to accommodate him. He had to bend his neck to not hit the stone above them. He was not a huge man, but he loomed, and Edna made herself not pay attention to the girth of his shoulders.

"I assume you have a plan." He continued pointedly. "So what is it?"

Edna pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and observed the man in front of her. There was weariness in his gaze but his question was earnest. There were fresh scratch marks on his legs, deep and bleeding. She dared not bring them up, but Edna did not doubt that Asgeir's little adventure had been eventful. Perhaps it had helped him see the reality of their situation. And the worth of having the Last Dragonborn on his side.

"I do." She conceded. She didn't doubt that he hated the idea of cooperating with her. Still, what choice did she have but hope he could see the wisdom in it? She did, after all, have a plan, and it would be a lot easier to carry out with Asgeir's help.

"What do I need to do?" He asked. And, cautiously, she told him.

I hope you enjoyed this update. Next chapter, we are going out of Shadowgreen Cavern. Finally, right? Let me know what you think of the story so far in the comments, and thank you for reading!