4E 195 Mid Year

Vilkas was surprised by how clean the basement of the chapel was. He sat on a cleared table with his arms crossed. Behind him was an open window, letting in the afternoon light. Sun puddles covered most of the floor and seeped up onto the printing press that sat in the left side of the room. Printing equipment and ink was locked away in storage bins while spare paper lay stacked neatly in a corner. Typesetting irons were organized in bins according to character.

The Nord stifled a yawn. Vilkas wasn't bored per se, but it was warm and light; the perfect conditions for a nap. Despite how nice the idea of closing his eyes sounded, Vilkas couldn't bring himself to. Instead he focused on the work in front of him.

Valleri sat in her desk chair, one leg brought up to her chest while the other was splayed out in a stretch. She held the week's missive, filled with the news of the town and surrounding county, in one hand. Whoever was writing the missive up was either terrible or new at their job. Valleri found error after error. She twirled her quill halfheartedly then chewed on the end, taking a second to mark each error she found. By the time she was finished, the original draft was going to be covered in red.

She stared blankly at the missive for a moment then waved it in front of Vilkas. "Hey, can you take a look to make sure I didn't miss anything?"

Sighing, Vilkas stared at the paper with a scowl. With as much as she already marked the missive up, how did Valleri expect him to read it? He passed it back to her with a grumble, "Should be good."

"Did you actually look at it?"

"Uh, yes."

Valleri snatched the missivef back and stared at it. Her eyes lit up when she found another error. She looked back to Vilkas with a coy smile, "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes!"

The Imperial chuckled to herself. "I'm just giving you a hard time, Vilkas."

"Yeah, I figured."

Valleri spun her seat to face the copy desk at her right, tacking the error-filled draft to the desk. She then went about writing a clean copy. Vilkas sifted through old editions of the weekly missives, wondering if they all got the same treatment.

"Hey, Vilkas?"

"No."

"Fine," the young woman droned on, not bothering to look up from the desk. Neither of them said anything while Valleri copied. The sound of her quill scratching the paper grated against Vilkas' ears. Every once in a while, Valleri cursed quietly.

After another few minutes of silence, Vilkas put the missive he was reading down and stared at the back of her head. "Actually, what?"

"Hmmm?"

"What were you going to say?"

"One moment, Valleri muttered. She stuck her quill behind her ear as she looked over her clean copy of the week's missive. Satisfied, Valleri placed the paper back down and turned back to Vilkas. "All right. Can we talk about what happened?" The Nord grimaced, eliciting a sigh from his friend. "The night we left Garlas Malatar."

"Oh," he mumbled, looking down at his hands. He suddenly felt very out of place. Vilkas gulped and forced himself to meet Valleri's face. "What did you want to know?"

This time, Valleri hesitated. She frowned as she mulled her question over. Vilkas stared at her expectantly. "Was that… Was that actually you in the woods that night?"

The question made Vilkas' skin crawl. Valleri noticed and turned away to start sorting through the type setting characters. Every few seconds, she would look back to Vilkas over her shoulder to let him know she was still listening.

Vilkas' voice almost hitched in his throat. "I, uh… Yeah, that was me."

"So, what exactly did I stumble on?" Valleri continued. She turned all the way around to see Vilkas staring at the ground almost sheepishly. "Do you not want to talk about it?"

"No, I probably should. It's sort of the least I can do. Especially after…"

"Terrifying the shit out of me in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah!" Vilaks blurted out. "Honestly, I was hoping maybe you'd forget that!"

"How?" the Imperial questioned, waving her arms wildly in the air. "You were the stuff of nightmares. Like something parents warn their kids about so they don't go traipsing off in the middle of the night."

"Look, I know, okay? I know that!"

Valleri stared wide eyed at her friend. Vilkas' face was drawn into a tense snarl and flushed nearly crimson. His fingers dug into his palms, turning his knuckles white. She shivered. "I'm sorry. I went too far."

"I know. I'm just…" Vilkas took in a ragged breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't like switching over like that. And that wasn't even a full transformation. But it still makes me feel… sick…"

Placing her unfinished typesetting down, Valleri crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. She frowned to herself, unsure if this was something he'd felt comfortable with. When there was no change in his demeanor, Valleri took her hand off.

"Hey don't feel like you need to answer, but… does that have anything to do with why you left Whiterun?"

Vilkas tensed for another second then sagged. "Yeah, there was an accident. I couldn't bring myself to stay after what I'd done."

"What happened?"

He breathed out sharply through his nose, looking for the words to answer. Valleri's brow furrowed as she waited. In another moment, she tried to soften her expression. She didn't expect him to tell her anything, but the last thing she wanted was to scare him off. The fact that Vilkas was willing to talk about what he'd been bottling up was enough for her already.

"I… I, eh-"

Vilkas was interrupted when his attention shifted to the stairs leading down to the press room. Valleri strained to hear a young woman humming. She bit the inside of her cheek when she saw Marisol open the door and wave. The Imperial groaned.

"It looks as though you two are at a funeral," the Bosmeri woman laughed.

A sharp pang of disappointment hit Valleri as she stole one last glance at the sad expression on her friend's face. Suddenly annoyed, she went back to put together the typesetting and kept her back turned to Vilkas and the newcomer. Vilkas, for his part, gave Marisol a small smile. Slowly the color came back to his face.

Marisol went right to him, foregoing any other business she had. She held the back of her hand to his forehead, "You're not looking well again."

The Nord gently took the woman's hand off his head, "No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Marisol paused for a second, still scowling. Vilkas stared back at her expectantly. Finally she relented, and hugged him around the armt. Vilkas didn't flinch and his smile grew wider. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will."

The clatter of the typesetting irons grew louder and more obnoxious. Marisol sighed and turned when she heard Valleri cough. She glowered at the Imperial. "Do you have something to say?"

"Yeah, actually," Valleri started. "What in Oblivion are you even doing down here?"

"Visiting my friend," Marisol answered, eyes glancing between Vilkas next to her and Valleri.

"Right," the Imperial droned. Defeated, she went back to her work. Marisol and Vilkas talked quietly amongst themselves. Every few seconds, one of them would try to stifle a laugh. After a few more minutes, Valleri couldn't take any more. "Get a room, you two! I'm trying to work!" she yelled.

"You're prickly today," Mairosl muttered. She was staring with an unimpressed scowl. The expression made Valleri groan to herself.

The Imperial pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Look, I don't mean to be a wet blanket, but either you're going to leave or I'll put you to work."

Mairosl and Vilkas exchanged a surprised glance. Vilkas shrugged and got off the table he was sitting on. Marisol rummaged around her pocket, producing a battered envelope before heading to the door. "I almost forgot that Madam Hayn left this with me."

"Oh?" Valleri took the envelope gingerly. Her full name was printed on the front in a messy script. She sighed.

"Who's it from?"

Valleri almost didn't answer Vilkas' question. She tore the envelope open, almost ripping the letter along with it. Scanning the letter, she found the name confirming her suspicions. "Leo. It's from Leo."

"Leo?"

Valleri glanced up to Vilkas and Marisol. They stood at the doorway and regarded her with curiosity. "An old acquaintance. I'll get to it later. Thanks, Marisol."

The Bosmeri woman cringed, "Oh, don't say that. It sounds out of character."

Valleri shrugged then turned her attention back to Vilkas. "Hey, we'll finish our conversation later if you're still up to it."

Vilkas nodded and followed Marisol out of the basement. Valleri eavesdropped on their conversation.

"What conversation is she talking about?"

"Oh, nothing serious."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

With a sigh, Valleri placed the letter on top of the copy desk. Leo didn't send many letters. Or at least if he did, not many made it all the way across the continent. Valleri was never particularly excited to see his letters come in, but they did break up the monotony of her usual mail. Only this time, Valleri was too exhausted and distracted to even skim the contents.

Steadily, a now familiar sensation came over her. Cold fingers crept from the base of her neck up. Valleri narrowed her eyes as the feeling only loomed larger in her mind. Whatever this was, it was occurring more and more frequently. At least for now, she was able to live with it.

At least for now, the voice didn't return.

Valleri took one last look at the typesetting she finished then fell back into the chair next to the copy desk. She'd have to start printing later.

…

Earlier in the day, several merchant ships sailed into the Anvil harbor, laden with goods from all over Tamriel. The East Empire Trading Company offices at the docks were busier than ever. The new business changed the energy of the docks tremendously. Usually the docks would be crowded with sailors on leave and townsfolk looking for a good time. But now, almost every available worker was busy trying to offload the new cargo.

Despite the renewed hustle and bustle, a small night market appeared, hawking some of the wares right off the boat. Most of the sailors and dock workers were annoyed by the sudden obstacles. There was no pleasing everyone.

Vilkas hung out on the deck of Rostam's ship, leaning over the side of the railing. He watched the workers unload the boat with a slight grin. It was like watching ants go by. Every once in a while, Rostam would stop by and chat. And then one of his coworkers would give them a hard time for not working.

At least Vilkas made sure to stay out of their way.

"Vilkas! There you are."

The Nord perked up at the familiar voice and looked over to the source. Marisol was standing on the dock, staring at him with a grin and crossed arms. She'd changed into a fine silk dress and braided her hair back with beads.

A smile came to Vilkas' face. Rostam stopped and noticed the dopey look on their friend's face. "Marisol Ferro, huh?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess," the sailor mused. Their smile looked more like a grimace, "Just, you know she's using you, right?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Goes both ways then."

"You're horrible," Rostam said as they walked away.

Rostam wasn't wrong, but Vilkas tried not to think about it too much. He didn't initially plan on spending as much time as he did with Marisol, let any time at all. This was the last thing he thought he'd be doing. But it was easy to forget why he was in Anvil in the first place when he was with her.

At least for a while, he could pretend everything was normal.

Valleri on the other hand kept trying to drag him back.

"Hey, do I have to board the boat to get you to come down?" Marisol called, pulling Vilkas out of his thoughts. The Nord rolled his eyes sarcastically before meeting the Bosmeri woman on the docks, sidestepping the sailors unloading the boat. Marisol took his arm, "It took you long enough."

"If anything you were running more risk of being late especially since I was already here." Vilkas tilted his head thoughtfully, "Also, this was your idea."

"It's the least I could do. You looked more depressed than usual in the press room today."

"Are you insinuating that I look depressed usually?"

Marisol laughed, "Maybe not depressed. Perhaps horribly bored might be a better descriptor. In any case, try to enjoy yourself."

Vilkas paused for a second, letting Marisol take a few steps ahead of him. Realizing her friend wasn't next to her, she turned around and shot him a confused grin. She grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him forward with her.

The two of them strolled lazily through the stalls. Vilkas was distracted by almost everything. The market in Whiterun had goods from all over the province, but this was different. Spices from Elsweyr and brandies from High Rock and exotic meats from Argonia filled the air with new scents that almost overstimulated the Nord. Dunmeri Lanterns and stained glass lamps from Hammerfell lit up the docks in place of the usual oil lamps that lined the city wall.

Marisol wasn't nearly as marvelled by the sights. She knew exactly where she was going. When Vilkas did end up halting in his tracks, Marisol stopped with him for a few moments before moving on.

In the depths of the market, the Bosmeri woman found the stall she was searching for. Brocade silks hung loosely at the sides of the stall, brilliantly illuminated by candlelight. In the back, the merchant, a Khajiit, lit a stick of incense. Vilkas watched on as Marisol and the Khajiit exchanged a few words. The merchant brought some bottles to the front of the stall for Marisol to peruse.

The Nord took a step back to get away from the heavy smell of the incense. The burning in his temples was almost gone when Marisol turned to him, holding a green glass bottle. "I want your opinion on this."

Vilkas arched an eyebrow, "Really?"

"What? Is choosing a perfume too frivolous for your serious Nordic sensibilities?" Marisol taunted.

"No. This just wasn't what I expected," Vilkas shrugged. Marisol's grin grew, making him squirm. He swiped the bottle from his friend and took a whiff. Then she handed him another.

"Well?"

Vilkas grimaced. "I can't tell the difference. They both smell… fancy?"

Marisol burst out laughing. Vilkas looked at her dishearteningly. It wasn't exactly his fault that everything was blending together. He sniffed the perfumes again to make sure there really was a difference. He shook his head, "No, I honestly just smell something sweet. You could be handing me anything."

Marisol's grin softened and she took a final glass bottle from the counter. She exchanged it for the two Vilkas tried before. "How about this one then?"

Vilkas recognized the smell almost immediately. The scent of cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafted up from the opened bottle. Something about it reminded him of his mother's cabin during the winter. Or maybe Marisol's obsidian eyes, deep and inviting.

"That's the one then," the Bosmer murmured, taking the bottle from Vilkas. She must have noticed the look of contentment on Vilkas' face when she handed it to him. After a few minutes, her interaction with the Khajiit was over and the perfume was paid for.

"Now what?"

Marisol glanced over to Vilkas. He looked back at her with anticipation. "You're not tired, are you?"

"I suppose not."

A smile grew on the Bosmer's face. "Have you seen the lighthouse yet?"

Vilkas' eyes narrowed. He gestured to the looming tower at the end of the harbor. "It's literally right there."

Marisol rolled her eyes then took Vilkas' arm again. Wordlessly, she led him to the end of the docks and onto the path leading to the Anvil lighthouse. The sound and smells of the night market were far behind them, giving respite to the overstimulated Nord. The looming light of the flame above them was enough to illuminate their surroundings.

"Are you feeling better?"

Vilkas took a deep breath in and leaned against a low wall connected to the base of the lighthouse. Immediately he felt his heart rate slow down. He flashed her a slight grin. "Much."

"Where were you before coming to Anvil?"

"What?"

Marisol shrugged halfheartedly, "Just trying to get to know you. You don't talk about yourself a lot and the curiosity is almost palpable."

"Is that so?" Vilkas mused with crossed arms.

"Well, go ahead. Enlighten me."

Vilkas stood still for a moment, eyes drifting to the fire at the top of the lighthouse. His mouth almost clamped shut. But this was the least he could do. He took a deep breath in and sighed. "I, uh, am from Whiterun. I took up work with the Companions for the last several years. Haven't done much else."

"Companions?"

Vilkas and Marisol exchanged an apprehensive glance. "A fighting outfit in Skyrim," Vilkas floundered.

"There has to be more to you." Marisol tilted her head in thought, "There had to have been a reason you left. Or what is your family like?"

A lazy grin grew on his face. Marisol stared back at him. Vilkas spoke with a shrug, "There are some things about me I don't think I'm ready to talk about."

Leaning on the wall next to him, the smile on Marisol's matched Vilkas'. Her eyes moved up to his for a moment. She laughed dryly to herself. "It goes both ways then, you mysterious Nord. Everyone has secrets."

"Apparently."

"Shut up for a second, Vilkas," Marisol murmured.

Before Vilkas could answer, Marisol pulled him down and kissed him. She lingered there for a moment, hands gripped tightly on the collar of Vilkas' shirt. When the shock wore off in the next second, Vilkas found himself kissing her back as though he didn't even have to think about it. Marisol was warm and inviting and there was something about her that made him want to stay.

Vilkas shook when she pulled away. He choked his words out, "And will you tell me why you did that?"

Marisol's face was red and her smile went from ear to ear. She almost couldn't look him in the eye. "Because, I like the idea of you, Vilkas. Maybe someday, when you are ready, I will like the entire you. Until then, good night," the Bosmeri woman mused, walking back in the direction of the city gate.

Vilkas said nothing as he watched her leave. He was sure he was wearing some silly, shit eating grin on his own face. He put his hand to his cheek, noticing the heat on his face, and sighed. That wasn't exactly what he was expecting. But it was good.

Then something new caught his attention in the corner of his eye. Vilkas turned his head to see Valleri on the other side of the lighthouse, as stiff and straight as a board. The Imperial stared into the middle distance. She talked to herself, though what about was a mystery.

WIthout any warning, Valleri broke out into a sprint across the beach, heading away from the town. Vilkas cringed to himself when he saw her lose her shoe. Valleri glanced back for only a second before fleeing once again.

Concerned, Vilkas followed.

…

Printing always took a day or two, so Valleri wasn't surprised when she couldn't finish the new edition of the missive. She'd have plenty of time to finish with the Synod prescribed leave.

It was already dark out by the time she was finished. Her stomach growled angrily at her when she finally stepped onto the street. Valleri hadn't eaten yet, trying to keep food based mishaps from ruining all of her work. On long days in the basement, Valleri usually wouldn't eat. Today, she was disappointed that she didn't just take a lunch break.

She stood on the steps of the chapel and groaned. Any food Ulia made for dinner was probably all gone. Food never lasted long in that house. At least she could get something quick to eat at the pop up market at the docks. It wouldn't be particularly good, but it would have to do.

Lexius came to her side unexpectedly. The Redguard panted as he caught up with his friend. "Are you done?"

The Imperial shrugged, "Not at all. I have to go back in tomorrow."

"Hooray for the terrors of printing. Where are you heading off to now?"

Valleri shot Lexius an annoyed grin while he laced his arm around his shoulders. "Dinner."

"Oh! You should join me and Rostam tonight. I'm sure they're almost done with work."

Valleri's expression fell. "Nah, I'm good for tonight."

Lexius continued goading his friend, "Come on, Valleri! Live a little."

"I mean it Lex. I'm good."

The Redguard took a deep breath in then stepped back. Valleri tried to soften the scowl on her face so Lexius wouldn't feel so worried. He shrugged, "Well, suit yourself then. Just feel better I guess."

"I'm trying," the Imperial muttered. She stood at the gate to the docks and watched Lexius run to Rostam's ship with a giant grin. Valleri sighed as she looked on with indifference then went to find food. Stalls were common along the walls of the city when new ships came into port. Their proprietors were eager to meet the new demands of any ocean weary travelers that came. And Valleri was eager to make the most of the cheap food on late work days.

She stopped at the first stall she found. Smells of cheese and mushrooms and frying dough wafted around the tent. The fried dumplings would be more than enough. Before she knew it, Valleri was walking towards the lighthouse at the far end of the harbor with the dumpling in her hands. At least then she could eat with a view.

Valleri nearly melted when she took the first bite of her dumpling, forgetting to walk as she ate. By the time she made it to the lighthouse, her dinner would be over. And where would be the fun in that?

With her plan revitalized, Valleri hurried. She pushed past dock workers and merchants and pedestrians. Soon enough, when her dumpling was half finished, the lighthouse came into view. The flame burned dull orange against the fading sky. In time though the flame in the lighthouse would be the brightest light in the sky.

Looking up at it usually made the Imperial feel safe and content.

But for the second time that day, Valleri felt a cold shadow slither up her spine and settle over her shoulders. Her stomach dropped when the feeling of dread also settled over her. This was the first time she'd felt this feeling twice in one day.

Valleri tried to ignore the feeling, keeping her shoulders up and her back straight. The longer she held her postiontion, the shakier she became. In a matter of seconds, Valleri fell apart. Her knees threatened to buckle underneath her. Her breathing became quick and shallow.

"Valleri Hayn…"

The Imperial's eyes went wide as the voice echoed in her head. She held her hand to her temple in an attempt to will the voice away.

"You still are not convinced I am here?"

Her initial reaction was one of fright as she yelled, "Fucking shit!" Then, sucking in a deep breath, Valleri answered, "Who are you?"

"I suppose that's… the least I can do. Call me Falasil."

Valleri paused before replying. She knew exactly where that name came from. "Why are you still here? That stone shattered already."

This time, the voice paused. For a small moment, Valleri hoped she was rid of it. That hope was soon dashed. "There is more to our partnership than one message."

"Don't refer to this as a partnership," Valleri hissed back, hitting the palm of her hand as hard as she could against her head. Her eyes snapped open to see some people staring at her with perplexed scowls. She waved at them nervously.

"In fact, we've been watching each other for a few short years."

"Huh?"

"Go to the beach and look towards the west."

"And what's over that way?"

"Me… The island."

Valleri almost stopped breathing. Without thinking, the young woman broke out into a sprint. She forgot about dinner and the printing press and Anvil. The only thing on her mind was the island that haunted her for so long.

The Imperial nearly tripped on the edge of the dock, losing her shoe in the process. She turned around for a second and debated if she should go back. After a moment of thought, Valleri continued on her way.

In all actuality, Valleri had no idea where she was going. She cast her light above her as she ran into the darkness. Soon enough, Valleri was running on sand. The lights on Anvil weren't too far behind her. Somewhere deep inside of her was the urge to stop. Valleri halted then took a few steps to the waves. Sea water lapped around her feet. She yelled into the distance, voice ragged, "And where the fuck are you?"

The voice -Falasil as they introduced themselves- in her head was slow to answer. "Look to the water."

Valleri's scowl deepened. "Why? Are you swimming out there or something?"

"No. Just… look."

Narrowing her eyes, Valleri stared out over the waves. If she looked hard enough, she saw the island in the distance, golden trees and rocky cliffs and all. Only this time, it was almost right off the beach. She spied new features. Warm lights floated above purple crystals poking out of the ground. If Valleri weren't quite so entranced, she could have swum to it.

"So… so that is where you are?"

The voice was softer now. Valleri barely registered the reply. "More or less, I suppose."

Valleri shook and her words were shaky, "And what would you have me do then?" the Imperial questioned. She was terrified of the answer. She shouldn't have asked. Valleri should have known better than to ask.

"Nothing yet. Soon we will meet there."

Relief washed over Valleri for only a moment before the frustration mounted once again. "Right," she started with a yell, "So, I'm just supposed to show up at this island, which I'm sure I'm hallucinating, just so what? What am I supposed to do?"

"Not now, Valleri. There will be a time soon. I will summon you and we will meet and things will finally be set in motion."

"And what if I don't want to?"

"Then I will have to start over. But in the millennia that I've been waiting, you are the one I need."

"A temperamental child who's already too busy for this shit? I don't have time for this magical bullshit," Valleri yelled into the night. "Why don't you choose someone else? Why me?"

Valleri's breathing was ragged as she waited for an answer. Her throat burned raw. The breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on her forehead. Slowly, she scrunched her eyes closed. The fire in her chest died when the answer never came.

Eyes snapping open, Valleri stole one last glance at the ocean before catching her breath. The stars shone above her and the waves came to and fro as if the whole thing had never happened. She sank to the ground, letting the water rush over her and seep into her clothes. She promised herself she'd get up, go home, and sleep. But not yet.

Not yet.

…

Vilkas kept some distance between him and the wayward Imperial he followed. He had no desire to spook her. But something was wrong. Very wrong.

She halted at the edge of the beach and stared out over the water. Vilkas watched her scan the horizon for gods knew what. Then she spoke once again.

"And where the fuck are you?" Valleri yelled into the void. Vilkas jumped and almost answered. But there was no way she knew he was watching her. And so the question wasn't for him.

"Why? Are you swimming out there or something?" Her voice was sharper now. "So… so that is where you are?" She paused once more before her voice rose, "And what would you have me do then?"

By now, Vilkas struggled not to move any closer. Valleri wasn't talking to herself. There was someone else, someone answering her. He glanced around the beach, scanning every bush and outcropping around them. Fear filled him when he realized it was only him and Valleri on the beach.

Valleri's next remark was almost a yell, "Right. So, I'm just supposed to show up at this island, which I'm sure I'm hallucinating, just so what? What am I supposed to do?"

Next was bargaining. "And what if I don't want to?"

Valleri's calm demeanor cracked. She yelled into the night at the water in front of her. "A temperamental child who's already too busy for this shit? I don't have time for this magical bullshit." Her voice rose as she yelled, "Why don't you choose someone else? Why me?"

Vilkas stood at rapt attention. Blood pounded in his ears, obscuring most other sounds. Both he and Valleri waited for an answer. But nothing came. Soon enough, Valleri kneeled in the surf.

Hesitantly, the Nord walked up to the woman kneeling on the beach. He couldn't see her face in the darkness. Her back heaved with each ragged breath she took.

"Valleri? Is everything okay?"

The woman didn't respond. Instead, she lifted her head up and stared transfixed on something on the water in front of her. Vilkas followed suit but saw nothing. He paused for a moment. What did she tell him weeks ago? Something about an island. She laughed about it then

Maybe she was serious about it?

Vilkas sat next to her, though he made sure to keep his feet away from the waves. He looked over when he heard Valleri take a deep breath in. The Imperial's eyes were rimmed with purple and her cheeks were gaunt.

"I think I'm losing myself. A little bit each day."

Blood going cold, Vilkas and Valleri met eyes. The Nord knew exactly what that felt like. He still felt that way. He saw himself now in Valleri. And he hated that. "What happened?"

Tears began to stream down her face. Valleri made no move to wipe them away.

"You're… You're, uh, crying," Vilkas muttered without thinking.

The Imperial's eyes went wide and her hands went to her face to find that she was indeed crying. She chortled with disbelief, "I suppose I am!" Valleri laughed bitterly, throwing her head back.

Vilkas grimaced. He got up from the sand and offered Valleri a hand. "It's late, Val. Let's go home."

Valleri stalled for a moment, taking in one last view of the sea. She took Vilkas' hand with a sigh then followed her friend back home. Hopefully by the time they returned, she'd forget the sting of whatever plagued her.