As she lay sleeping, Braxen could feel the soft touch of a hand against her face. A man's voice gently called for an unfamiliar name. Braxen answered. Rising from slumber to be graced with the presence of another wood elf. She was in bed, feeling more drained than usual.

"How are you feeling Dovida?"

"Tired." She sleepily replied.

The man rubbed Braxen's stomach. "I can't believe number two is almost here. It feels like yesterday Marsi was kicking around in there. A couple more weeks to what I hope is a baby boy."

"I... ugh...argh."

"Shh, go back to sleep. All I needed to know is that you're feeling well. I love you dear."

"I love you too Vaylen." A burning smell invaded Braxen's nose. Back in reality, Braxen awoke to see Skoref rolling in the dirt, once again on fire.

"Ah! Oh no! Braxen! Help! Ah!"

Braxen rolled her eyes before putting out Skoref with a blanket. With the flames doused, a hole was burnt in the back end of Skoref's pants, exposing his bare cheeks. Braxen decided to tie a blanket around his waist for now. "I must admit Skoref, you pull off a skirt very well."

"What a comedian. Why not try out for Windhelm's new jester if this whole Stormcloak thing gets boring."

"I'd need an assistant. We can bounce apples off your forehead." Braxen slid her boots on and geared up. "Enough jokes. Windhelm is close and we've wasted enough time."

Crossing the bridge, they walked past the bodies of last night's bandit attack. Braxen spit on each one as she went past them. The path bore a cave and another standing stone. A Stormcloak camp resided close by. Braxen watched them for a while. Proud nord men and women collaborating as one unit. Fighting for Ulfric's dream to free Skyrim from tyranny. It warmed her heart. She couldn't wait to get back to normal and rejoin her brothers.

"Friends of yours?" Asked Skoref.

"Not friends per say. Comrades in arms. I'll be among them soon enough." It got quiet again, so Braxen broke the silence. "I've been having these dreams lately."

"About what exactly?"

"I think it's the elf's memories. Every few days a dream will occur. I look through her eyes, seeing a person from a past life. The first time I saw her daughter, it felt like she was in my arms. Earlier this morning I believe her husband spoke to me. He called me Dovida."

"Viewing life through another's eyes sounds amazing. I guess Dovida is her name."

"Most likely. You know, with this revelation, I considered an idea. For the purposes of blending in with society, refer to me as Dovida near others."

"Dovida. Dovida Brax. I like that. Maybe we place a nice bow in your hair. Get a nice silk dress to compliment your skin. Ooo, and a white bear skin coat. You'll turn heads with that one."

"I have NEVER...heard a man talk so much about things women do." Said Braxen in a disgusted tone.

"Just because it's not normal to you doesn't mean it's not normal anywhere else. Are you THAT narrow minded to only find enjoyment in war and sex?"

Braxen considered it for a moment. "What else is there?"

"Well for starters-" A dead body fell from the sky, right in front if them. They both looked up to see two more bodies coming down, so they leapt backwards. The landing created a large cloud of dirt. Once it cleared, an orc in his native armor rose from the ground. He glared at the duo, bloody axe in hand. There was a crazed look in his eyes. One that meant business.

"Are you two with the bandits here at Valtheim Towers?"

Skoref was quick to answer. "No we are not. Me and the fiancee are just passing through." Braxen placed an arm around Braxen's shoulder, who awkwardly smiled. The orc nodded. He tucked his axe and walked in the direction of Whiterun. Braxen bent Skoref's fingers as she removed his arm.

Down the hill, Skoref stopped to refill his flask. Braxen splashed some cold water on the face to wake up. Braxen hadn't felt this bad in ages. A massive headache, accompanied by multiple aching body parts, made her yearn for a relaxing night of drinks with the boys. Then going home to spend time with Rorke and Midan.

"Hello!"

Skoref raised an eyebrow. "Brax. Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Hello! I know I saw someone over there!"

"Okay that was very specific." Said Skoref. "I think its coming from across the river."

"I can hear very low chatter! Please come help me!"

Skoref laid his bag down and skipped across the water. On the other side was a small giant camp. The giant was non existent, but its presence showed. A few Imperial soldiers were dead among rotten animals. Skoref felt sick to his stomach. All this death in a small period of time was becoming a bit much.

"Thank goodness you came." Above Skoref, a young woman hung from a tree by one leg. About fifteen feet in the air. Clad in a full set of imperial leather armor. Short black hair with tan skin. Her eyes were bloodshot red.

"Greetings. May I be of any help?"

"Obviously. I've been hanging here for two days. I would like to get down."

Braxen wandered over. "Skoref who are you-Imperial dog!"

"Brax...calm down."

"What did she say?" Asked the woman.

"Nothing!" Skoref huddled over Braxen, who was gritting her teeth. "Breathe for a moment. Relax. Calm down. Lets figure out why she's here and see if we can do something to help."

Braxen angrily grumbled, "Why?"

Skoref folded his arms. "Because I saved your life. Twice."

Snorting like a wild boar, Braxen eased her shoulders. Being a woman of her word, she leaned against a nearby rock. "Do what you must."

Skoref gave a thumbs up and turned his attention to the woman." So, do you mind telling me how you ended up there?"

"I am Jastia. Me and my team camped here two nights ago, plotting to attack a nearby Stormcloak camp. Funny enough, the giant came from nowhere. For a creature that size, it was fast. Beating most of us with ease. I climbed into this tree to hide. When the giant left I tried to leave, but my foot got caught in this rope and...yeah."

"Serves you right." Braxen mumbled.

"He's been gone since then. I count my blessings for it. However I wish to stay suspended no longer. All the blood has rushed to my head and I've passed out multiple times. If there's any mercy to be had, please free me."

"Do not fear, as you are in the presence of a newly profound mage! Prepare as I will sever the rope with an incredible fireball." Skoref focused as his hand started to glow. Braxen sat in anticipation to see what unfolded. Flames ignited and the fireball exploded from Skoref's hand, missing the rope entirely. "Hold on. I'm still getting the hang of using magic."

"Are you serious?" Cried Jastia.

"Yes, quite the prodigy he is." Joked Brax.

"Shut up. Have some faith."

"I have faith. Just not in your magic ability."

Skoref tried hard for a second fireball to no avail. As he fiddled around, Jastia pointed to a dead imperial. "There's a bow down there. Try shooting the rope."

"I don't know how to use a bow." Skoref thought. He looked over at Braxen, who bit her nails in boredom. Skoref wrung his hands while walking towards her. "Braxen. Sweet, loving, best Stormcloak of all time Braxen."

"No."

"Come on, just shoot her down. You can't be that cruel." Braxen folded her arms, not even dignifying him with a response. "Right, right. Okay. I saved you twice. Once from the forest. Once from the bandits. I used my first favor, now here's my second. Shoot her down. That's all I ask."

Braxen reluctantly got on her feet, giving Skoref a death stare. "THIS, is your last one." She scooped an imperial bow and arrow. Twirling the arrow, she aimed and let it fly. Hitting the mark precisely, splitting the rope with ease. Skoref positioned himself as Jastia fell, catching her which sent both down. Face to face, Skoref got a glimpse of her bloodshot eyes. Like a beautiful dremora.

"Hello." Skoref said softly.

"Thank-" Jastia vomited gray gunk over Skoref's face and went unconscious on his chest. He laid there in misery as Braxen howled in laughter. Braxen then pulled an ale bottle filled with water to pour on Skoref, cleaning his face.

"Much obliged."

"Once you're done playing white knight, lets get moving. Daylight is burning."

"What about Jastia?"

Braxen huffed and puffed. She dragged Jastia's limp body over to a rock, propping her against it. Braxen took a second ale bottle of water and slowly poured it in Jastia's mouth. Jastia coughed a bit but remained unconscious. Braxen placed a hand on Jastia's chest momentarily. Skoref looked on, surprised by the compassion being shown. Braxen finished the examination and grabbed her bag.

"Her heart is beating. She's breathing. We're done here."

"Th-that's it?"

"I've done more than my fair share. Do not forget our mission."

"I want to make sure she'll be okay sleeping here."

"Listen boy! This woman who you've met all of five minutes ago is of no concern to you. Believe me, if she doesn't die here, she'll die on the battlefield. I admire your good hearted nature to help others but that mentality can get you killed. Remember why Edna sent you. To help me. Once we reach Windhelm, you can do whatever the hell you want. Pray for the imperial and that's all we can offer."

Braxen stormed off as Skoref eyed Jastia, who sat there. Vulnerable and lucky. The more he considered it, Jastia managed to live as where the other imperials perished. Suffering from bones crushed to power or having their brains smashed, leaving a pool of blood. Perhaps their rescue was the chance she needed. Skoref folded his hands, recited a small prayer, placed leftover bread with Jastia and ran after Braxen.