Gwynileth's belongings were not at their old encampment, nor were they at the place where she and Kaidan had been ambushed. Everything had been burned so thoroughly in both places that black scorch marks upon the ground were all that remained. The only things that were left was the necklace that Gwynileth had worn, the gift from Lady Unara, which must've been torn off sometime during the scrap beside the waterfall, and the notebook that Anya had left for her.
It was Kaidan who had found the two objects; he held them out to her with the words, "This belonged to you?"
She nodded, her mouth dry, and took them without verbal answer. The thin cord that the pendant had rested upon was broken, but Gwynileth did not mind. It meant enough to still have it, after all she'd been through… and the return of the notebook meant more to her than she could possibly express.
Despite how dreary the situation seemed, they continued searching until sundown. As the sun began falling away from the world, a band of wolves attacked. Luckily, they were not too difficult to fight, though Gwynileth was glad that Kaidan had had the foresight to locate her some armor, because one of the mangy mutts had begun to sink its teeth into her forearm. Her bracers bought just enough time for her to stick it with her knife and kill it before it could do any lasting damage.
"Well," sighed Kaidan, sheathing his nodachi once again. He gestured loosely to the four dead wolves surrounding them. "These pelts should be enough to earn us a hay-pile upon the floor of Dead Man's Drink."
Even though Gwynileth was uncertain that they should spend whatever money they had just earned upon a bed at the inn, Kaidan eventually convinced her due to the looming grey clouds overhead.
"It'll thunderstorm overnight," he said, casting her a serious glance. "We don't want to be caught unawares by the rain—or whatever else might be lurking in the woods that we wouldn't be able to hear."
So it was that, after taking the painstaking minutes to skin the wolves, they rolled up the pelts and began the hike back to Falkreath. Much to Gwynileth's relief, it was warmer in the southernmost province of the country than it had been in the Rift, for that was where Kaidan eventually established that they had been taken. As they walked on, they kept a careful lookout for any bandits that might be lurking in the covers of darkness, or any further wolves seeking an ambush.
There were no further delays in reaching the city of Falkreath once again. It was Gwynileth who approached Valga and offered greetings—the other woman seemed positively delighted to see Gwynileth again, and began attempting to fill her in on all the gossip that had accumulated throughout the past week.
"Rumor has it that Ulfric Stormcloak has been captured to the east!" whispered Valga, her eyes as wide as dinner saucers. "They should be passing through sometime in the next week to officially sentence him in Cyrodiil. This could be the end of the civil war!"
This news was particularly heartening, and Gwynileth thanked her hostess for it. After indulging Valga for another few minutes following, she was able to secure a room with two beds, as well as a loaf of day-old bread and two bowls of vegetable broth for the four wolf pelts that they had gathered. While Gwynileth had absolutely no idea whether this was a good deal or not, as she was approaching Kaidan to tell him of this new development, a startled voice broke her concentration.
"Ah, Gwynileth! It's you again!"
She blinked and turned around to see none other than Lucien Flavius waving cheerily at her from a seat directly by the fire. The smile upon his lips was a slightly hesitant one, and this was explained as he launched up from his chair and exclaimed, "I would like to apologize for the last time we met. I'm afraid I wasn't thinking, you see, and I am terribly sorry if I offended you in any way—"
"It's all right," interrupted Gwynileth. And it was: because she knew that Lucien could not have known how frightened she was on only her second day in the country. "I was only caught off-guard by how quickly you guessed my heritage and name. How have you been?"
Lucien sighed; his hands fell back down to his sides. "What a relief. For a number of days there, I thought you positively loathed me. To answer your question: I'm doing quite all right, though I am still looking to hire someone to travel alongside and protect me as I research ancient archaeology. I can't help but notice you're a tosh more armed than you were upon our last meeting, and that you brought wolf pelts to trade for a room at the inn?"
He raised an eyebrow with this last, which only made Gwynileth's lips quirk upwards. Lucien was not imperceptive, that was for certain.
She cocked her head sideways, thinking on her options. On the one hand, Gwynileth was still very new to the arts of defending herself. Over the last seven days, she had taken nine lives: four of the Thalmor, two from bandits that ambushed her and Kaidan on the road, and three from wolves that attacked in packs. She was still very green when it came to the adventuring life, even if Kaidan was incredibly experienced and had taught her much over the week she had known him.
On the other hand… Lucien was offering to hire them. And as he had been on the first night she had met him, the Imperial was wearing robes of fine dyed cloth, complete with a pendant of gold. He did not seem to have any trouble flaunting his wealth, or where he was from.
Just before she could open her mouth to respond, Kaidan appeared from seeming thin air, a scowl on his face. "Is this man bothering you, Gwynileth?"
"No, not at all," she replied, taking care to smile at her companion. The lines upon Kaidan's face lessened somewhat at her expression, though he crossed his arms and stood slightly straighter even so. "I met Lucien in the inn on my second day in Skyrim, though our meeting was… short."
Lucien coughed lightly at this last word, but said nothing.
"What do you want?" Kaidan asked bluntly, his eyes focused on Lucien.
The Imperial cleared his throat before crossing his arms to mimic Kaidan—though as he was much shorter than Kaidan, this did not seem to work out the way he had intended. "I was hoping to hire Lady Nerussa to be my guard. I'm hoping to research both Dwemer and Ancient Nordic ruins for my thesis firsthand, though I'm afraid I am not very helpful in a fight."
This didn't seem to surprise Kaidan at all. The man just sighed and uncrossed his arms. Sparing a glance in Gwynileth's direction, he asked, "Well? What do you think about this?"
"I'm not sure yet. I was going to ask you for your opinion."
Kaidan snorted. "I'll leave the decision up to you. I'm the one in your debt, after all, and I will continue to travel alongside you either way."
Gwynileth nodded once and turned back to face Lucien, who was giving her an expression that seemed remarkably similar to a puppy begging for a bite of steak. She could not help laughing somewhat at this, and then asked, "Where is it you intend to go, Lucien? Did you have a specific destination in mind?"
"Now that you mention it, I do have somewhere I'm dying to visit," said Lucien, though his words were slow, as if he were afraid that this admission would prevent Gwynileth from accepting his offer. "I'm looking for a Dwemer ruin called Dumzbthar. The study of soul gem usage in automatons is widely known, and thus, this ruin intrigues me, as its name loosely translates to 'Bound Ghosts.' I intend to find out if some of the answers I seek might be there! Trouble is, I don't exactly know where Dumzbthar is yet… my father's looking into it while I'm here in Skyrim."
"I see," said Gwynileth. "And your father will inform you when he has confirmed its location?"
"That he will. And of course, anytime we find something that will assist in my research, I'll be happy to contribute more coin as thanks!"
The only thought that ran through Gwynileth's head was how much her mother would've loved Lucien, had the two ever met. Lucien was intelligent, dedicated, passionate, of good repute, and wealthy: everything that Nihali Nerussa had ever wanted in a son-in-law. Yet he was also charming, with a smile that wormed its way into Gwynileth's heart.
It was obvious, based on the way he was standing, that Kaidan was less than eager to take Lucien along their adventures. But Gwynileth had made up her mind.
Sticking out one ashen hand towards the Imperial, she smiled and said, "Welcome to the team, Lucien. It's good to have you."
Lucien's hand shot out like a dart, grabbing onto hers with great vigor and gusto. A light had appeared in his eyes as he exclaimed, "Marvelous, simply marvelous! Thank you for having me—and here's the coin I promised, of course."
True to his word, he rummaged through the pockets in his robes, withdrew a large pouch, and plopped it into Gwynileth's hand. She was surprised at how heavy it was; the Dunmer woman had handled a lot of gold in her life. This was easily at least three-hundred septims.
"Just let me know whenever you're ready to head out into the big wide world tomorrow," said Lucien, the smile on his face still persisting. "I'll be sure to have my things ready at a moment's notice!"
With that, he nodded one more time towards both Gwynileth and Kaidan and headed towards the bar, clapping his hands together excitedly as he did so.
Gwynileth watched him go, unable to keep herself from grinning. She did not know why she had allowed herself to be frightened so by Lucien when first they had met… perhaps she had been far more skittish than she'd realized during those first few days. But now, with Kaidan by her side and a modicum of combat and survival knowledge in her arsenal, she felt much better than before.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" murmured Kaidan, so only they could hear. His amber eyes were also locked upon Lucien, who had just ordered a round of drinks for everyone in the tavern—the exclamation caused all of the Dead Man's Drinks' patrons to cheer wildly.
Instead of answering, Gwynileth gestured towards one of the empty tables on the side of the room. They took seats next to each other; immediately after they had claimed their spots, one of the servers delivered the bowls of vegetable broth that Valga had promised them.
She sighed and glanced around the tavern once more. The bard, Delacourt, was singing a jaunty tune that she vaguely recognized from her first night in Windhelm's inn. Patrons were gathered around him, dancing and clapping their hands, flagons of ale in their grasp. Everything was bright and cheery… and despite not finding her possessions, Gwynileth was in a surprisingly good mood as well.
"Lucien has given us a great amount of gold to protect him while he studies," said Gwynileth. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the broth, though she kept her eyes upon Kaidan all the while. "We need the money if we're to replace the supplies the Thalmor took, and Lucien can learn how to adventure on the way just as I have. Besides… I like him."
Kaidan paused, his spoon hovering halfway between his mouth and the bowl. He raised an eyebrow before letting the utensil splash back into the soup. "You like him? Seems like a clown to me."
"Don't be so cross with him, Kaidan," she laughed. Gwynileth blew gently upon the liquid in her spoon, hoping she wouldn't burn her mouth the way she had on her first night in Dead Man's Drink. "He's charming."
"Charming?"
"Yes. As are you, you know."
Kaidan seemed even more surprised by this than he did by Gwynileth's claim that she had come to like Lucien. "I—I'm charming? Me? I've never been called that in my entire life."
His astonishment only made Gwynileth giggle. After consuming a few careful spoonfuls of soup—it was a decent soup, although somewhat salty—she replied, "I think you are. There's this… roguish appeal to you. It might be the marking upon the right side of your face, or maybe the way you're able to wield your blade, as though it's but an extension of yourself. If I hadn't found something credible to your person when first you met me in the woods, I never would've accepted your help."
There was a brief quiet between them as Kaidan thought on her words. Laughter of the other patrons echoed in their ears, though the noise was muted as each of them were lost within their own thoughts and dinners.
At last, however, Kaidan sighed, "All right, then. I'll trust your judgment on this one… you're probably better at reading people than I am, anyway."
Gwynileth sighed in relief, realizing that she had been hoping for his eventual approval. She rewarded him with a smile and the words, "I appreciate that, Kaidan. As you are someone I owe a lot to… your thoughts and opinions matter to me."
Having finished her supper, she rose from her seat, placed a hand upon his arm, and retreated to the room that had been rented so she might receive a good nights' sleep before the dawn arrived.
It was quickly established that in order for both Gwynileth and Lucien to purchase fresh sets of armor, they would need to do some hunting and adventuring to gather some extra gold. Much of Lucien's stock had already been depleted, as he'd spent most of it on food and lodging during the month he'd already been in Skyrim, and this meant that other than what he had put aside to reward his hires with, he did not have much for frivolous spending.
So it was the next number of days were spent with the three of them traversing through the southern woods of Falkreath. They came across a few caves that Gwynileth was able to identify on her map of Skyrim. Halldir's Cairn was one, in which they fought resurrected ghosts and a malicious specter. Skybound Watch was another, located atop a mountain, beyond which the trio could see for leagues outward. There was a cottage called Pinewatch as well, that was a little hut concealing a group of bandits. With Kaidan's skill, Gwynileth's steadily increasing archery ability, and Lucien's fire and frost spells, they were able to clear out the cottage and its underground tunnels with little to no trouble.
It was Pinewatch that revealed their first source of real treasure. After slaying the bandit leader—a muscled woman named Rigel Strong-Arm—they carefully unlocked the treasure room with a key. Inside had been piles of gold, as well as some metal ingots, a few gemstones, fresh arms, and a curious candlestick mold.
"Let's find a place to sell these," suggested Kaidan, grabbing one of the rubies lying haphazardly upon the floor. He held it up to some torchlight, inspecting its glow. "They might fetch a better price in Whiterun than they would in Falkreath, and the blacksmith there, Eorlund Grey-Mane, is the best in the country. We can get you both some decent armors in the city."
"And a decent meal!" exclaimed Lucien, whose face had overtaken a dreamy quality at the promise of finer fare.
Gwynileth couldn't help but laugh at the hopeless look Kaidan shot his way afterward—it was no secret that the two of them were slow to become any sort of 'friendly' towards one another. It had all started with Lucien making an assumption that because of Kaidan's survival instincts and preference for the wild over that of civilization, that Kaidan couldn't read… and that had been taken rather personally. Names were thrown about, disregard for the other's interests had been expressed, and their rocky relationship had snowballed from there.
She supposed she should be grateful that they were compatible enough to support one another in battle, at the very least.
It was the 2nd day of First Seed that the three of them were traveling north upon the main road towards Whiterun. While Gwynileth and Kaidan did not mind silences occurring during their journeys, Lucien seemed weirded out by the long disquiets. He would often attempt to start small conversation with each of them in turn, asking things such as, "Where are you from, Kaidan?" or, "Gwynileth, why have you chosen to come to Skyrim?"
Most unfortunately for him, neither of his companions were very keen on talking. While Gwynileth knew that she would have to speak on her past eventually, she would do so on her own terms. And if she was going to be private about her past life, then she certainly wouldn't pressure Kaidan to open up about his.
Lucien eventually seemed to understand how futile it was to try and talk to them about their lives prior to their little adventuring sojourns, and so he began to hum and sing to himself to fill the air between them.
Seeing as Whiterun was still a full day's journey on foot from the southernmost areas of Falkreath, the trio made the decision to camp out for one more night in the wilderness before finishing the trek to Skyrim's trading capital.
Kaidan picked out a dry spot with plenty of foliage to conceal their exact location so they could spend the night. As he began chopping firewood and Lucien prepared to make an impromptu fondue, Gwynileth rummaged through her knapsack. She wriggled her nose as she pushed aside this and that—eventually, Lucien noted what she was doing and bemusedly asked, "What are you looking for?"
"That troll fat we gathered from Pinewatch!" she grunted in answer. A few things knocked about in her pack. "I gathered it because it's a helpful ingredient for potions of resisting natural poisons, but now I want it for something else. A-ha!"
This last was exclaimed as a triumphant cry; Gwynileth held the little bowl of troll fat upwards, beaming as she did so. From across the campfire pit that was now put together, Kaidan shook his head. "I still don't know why you bother brewing all those potions together… the best defense is a good offense, I say."
Gwynileth shot him a sardonic look. "Yes, well, I can make you potions to help your offense become even more powerful. But I'm not brewing anything right now—I'm making soap."
"Soap?" repeated Kaidan, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. We've been out here for three days, and while I can deal with the lack of city food or beds, I absolutely cannot stand the fact that I haven't bathed in all that while. So I'm going to make some soap, locate a stream, get myself clean, and meet you back here."
While Kaidan just shrugged and said nothing more, Lucien clapped his hands together excitedly and said, "Ooh, there's another thing to look forward to once we're back in the city! A piping hot bath. Great thinking, Gwynileth."
She grinned as she fished out a few dried mountain flowers and some salt to mix with the troll fat. With luck, it could become some semblance of soap that she had grown accustomed to all her life. "Thank you, Lucien. I rather thought so, too."
From across the campfire, Gwynileth could've sworn she heard Kaidan mutter, "Can't believe I'm out here adventuring with two poncey nobles."
If Lucien heard the jab, he proceeded to ignore it.
It only took a few moments for Gwynileth to combine the simple ingredients into a thick paste that could constitute as soap. The activity reminded her of days where she and Anya would create candles out of multiple types of wax—there were not many flowers they could use to color the candles with, but it was one of their favorite pastimes nonetheless. They would often read by the candlelight together; stories of adventure and of dashing romance.
So would she and Jenithar, during nights filled with thunderstorms.
Gwynileth paused. The nightmares had grown lesser recently, but that wasn't due to any sort of progress on her healing. It was due to the fact that she was having trouble sleeping recently… her mind would always stray back to her parents.
They'd never had a huge family the way the Redorans or the Hlaalus did. They had been on their own, three people together.
Now down to two.
She sighed and stopped walking. The small lake she wished to bathe in was clear; when she dipped a toe upon its surface, the water was not too cold. After taking a quick look over her shoulder to make sure that neither of her companions could see her from their camping spot, she began doffing her armor and the wrinkled travel clothes that had been worn underneath.
The two moons danced above: one scarlet, one white. Gwynileth stared up at them in wonder as she ran the soap over her aching limbs, scrubbing ferociously at the dirt that seemed insistent upon staying. There were never views of the stars like this back at the Nerussa Estate—it had been located in the centermost part of a city, where lights and lanterns prevented much of their glory from being seen.
Here, it was just wilderness and peace: nature at its best.
Gwynileth smiled to herself. Her journeys across Skyrim had actually been… quite fun, if she was being honest. It had been two weeks to the day since she had run away from home, and she had already made two wonderful friends. She had also made considerable progress regarding her skill with the bow. Kaidan had even promised to teach her how to handle a two-handed weapon in the next few days, now that her body was becoming accustomed to the hardship…
There was a rustling in the grass somewhere behind her.
She blinked and looked over her shoulder, taking care to cover her chest as she did so. No one was in the grass nearby—she could only barely see the flickers of the campfire from over the next hill.
Frowning to herself, she prepared to turn back around—
A sharp shink of metal; Gwynileth gasped as a figure materialized out of the darkness, holding a dagger aloft in her direction.
Before that dagger could begin its descent towards her body, an arrow flew from the bushes nearby. It was swiftly followed by a second; both of these projectiles were buried directly in her assailant's chest. The tips of the arrows protruded through the front of his ribs, through the black and scarlet armor that he was wearing.
"K… Kaidan?" called Gwynileth.
Splash.
The attacker's body collapsed into the small lake, next to where Gwynileth was still standing. His blood was already beginning to stain the pure waters.
She screamed and began scrambling for the wolf-pelt that was lying upon the shore—
"My friend! Are you all right down there?"
The voice was entirely unfamiliar, though its owner did not stay hidden long. Emerging from the bushes only a number of meters away was a Khajiit with indigo-colored fur and yellow eyes; he held onto a longbow made of dark metal, confirming that it was he who saved Gwynileth from near-certain death.
Her throat caught as she struggled to keep the pelt wrapped around the front of her body. "Who… who are you?"
But the Khajiit did not reply. His eyes merely widened; he threw a hand to cover his face and made a half-circle turn so that his back was facing her. "Oh, I am sorry. I did not realize that you are in a bit of a compromising position."
"Gwyn!"
Kaidan burst through the trees, his nodachi already in hand. Hot on his heels was Lucien, whose hands were aglow in colors of red and white, ready to cast the appropriate flame or frost spell where needed. They each glared around the clearing for a brief moment—their gazes found Gwynileth, who was frantically trying to keep the pelt in place despite her hair still dripping and suds still covering her arms and back, to the body in the lake that was floating face-down… and then their eyes landed upon the Khajiit.
Kaidan's grip upon the blade tightened; his lips pulled back over his teeth as he glanced back to Lucien. "You know the drill."
Lucien nodded, his jaw set—
"Wait!" cried Gwynileth, staggering forward. One of the corners of the pelt started to slip around her chest—she promptly froze and pinned it back into place. "He wasn't the one who tried to hurt me. He saved me."
The two men blinked and exchanged a quick look. It was Lucien who asked, "Saved you? What do you mean?"
Gwynileth jerked her head towards the body in the lake. "He… he came out of the shadows. There was a knife in his hand, he was looking directly at me. But then this Khajiit came, and killed him before I could be hurt…"
Another splash; Kaidan had just waded into the shallows, his eyes narrowed.
"Thank you for clearing up this misunderstanding. I did not like the idea of fighting your muscular friend. My name is Inigo! I am pleased to meet you," said the Khajiit, whose ears had perked up upon hearing the word 'saved.'
The two spells in Lucien's hand fizzled and dissipated, all hostility forgotten. Now there was a bright smile adorning his face as he took a step forward and saluted. "Nice to meet you too, Inigo! I'm Lucien Flavius, scholar of—"
"Eh, Gwyn?" called Kaidan, interrupting the other man from his introduction. He had hauled the body back to shore and rummaged through the would-be assassin's pockets: there was a damp note clasped within his hand. "You might want to take a look at this…"
She nodded and tiptoed forward, careful to keep herself concealed the entire while. Her fingers carefully relieved him of the note; when she opened it, she fell to her knees.
As instructed, you are to eliminate Gwynileth Nerussa by any means necessary. It is assumed she has fled to Skyrim; we've already received a hefty payment for the contract. Our client wants her amulet as proof of death. Failure is not an option.
"No… no, no…" The note fell from Gwynileth's hands; it sailed upon a brief gust of wind before landing daintily upon the ground, its edges ruffling.
Kaidan's expression morphed from dread to concern. "Gwynileth?"
She hiccupped once and said nothing, but there was only one thought bouncing through her head. Somebody had paid to have her killed. Somebody had paid… to have her killed.
Could it have been… her own parents?
"Let's get you back to the campfire," said Kaidan. He reached out to grab Gwynileth's clothes and placed them gently next to where she was kneeling. "Then we'll get you something to eat, eh?"
"What about Inigo?" asked Lucien.
Inigo smiled. "Hello. That is me!"
Gwynileth blinked, broken from her brief trance by the Khajiit's hearty grin. He was truly unaware of the circumstance at all—and in a strange way, it brought her a sense of peace. "Inigo, thank you for saving me. Are you… do you need something to eat?"
He thought for a moment. "Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry."
"Come stay with us for a while!" exclaimed Lucien. "I'm planning on making a fondue from some fresh eidar cheese wedges, salt, and leeks—it's going to be delicious with the fresh loaves of bread we bought today! Provided I don't burn everything this time…"
"That sounds delightful. Sure, I'll stay for a bite."
The Imperial and the Khajiit began returning to the campsite, already talking animatedly about their favorite foods and how beautiful the stars were. It was as though the entire fiasco by the lakeside had already been forgotten; in a way, Gwynileth was grateful for their easily distractible nature.
But Kaidan had not risen from where he knelt by her side. He did not reach out to place a hand on her shoulder like he had on a few separate occasions, but he did move slightly so that he could meet her eyes. "Hey. You going to be all right?"
Gwynileth took a moment to gather herself and take a deep breath. She was not so frightened by the assassination attempt as she was by the implications and unanswered questions behind it. There were only two things she could think: her parents wanted her dead… and Skyrim was no longer far away enough from them for her to be safe.
She would need to go further south… and start all over again.
Realizing that Kaidan was waiting for an answer, she glanced at him. For the first time since they had met, Gwynileth did not bother concealing the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "I don't know, Kaidan. I truly… don't know."