(A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who leaves kudos or comments! I really appreciate all of you! Special thanks again to someonebored0100, you help poke my muse into gear, and I appreciate all your insight and opinions on my writing!

also, i love how it's taken ~19k words and nearly a year to go like, 4 days. I'm not happy with this chapter but i wanna get the story moving along.)

21 First Seed, 4E 201

Jo'shak and Jenassa worked their way steadily up the frigid mountainside, pausing more than a few times to shelter behind a rock from the whipping wind. Joe wasn't very comfortable in his shoddy iron plate set with naught but rags underneath, and his cloth foot wraps didn't do too much to protect his pawpads. At least he had his fluff. More than once on the trip he swore he would never trim the fuzz between his toes again; that helped so, so much with walking through the snow. Almost like fuzzy snowshoes.

Jenassa silently replied to this complaint each time by flouncing her feet, clad in nice warm boots, all around. That is, until she slipped and fell ass-over-teakettle back down a rocky embankment and took ten minutes to reach Joe again, who was still wheezing with laughter by the time she reached the ginger continued up the mountain without another word, only a few snickers from Joe and a rough shove from Jenassa.

The late Last Seed sun didn't provide much warmth, but both travelers paused for a moment to appreciate the sun as it started to set, painting the night sky red and purple. Tomorrow would be fair weather for traveling; red at night, sailor's delight. Red in the morning, sailors take warning. They continued on up the mountain as the wind started to pick up.

By the time they arrived at the steps of Bleak Falls Barrow, the light was waning and dusk approached the two companions. The steps seemed deserted, and they almost started to ascend the case, but Joe's nose twitched suddenly and he ducked behind a snow drift, tugging Jenassa down with him. They barely avoided notice of the straw-haired Bosmer archer up top, who was talking audibly over the whining wind, pacing and patrolling with a torch in hand. Joe angled his ears to the man, catching snippets of his grumbling,

"...Fuckin' asshats, choosing me for evening duty… I did patrol this morning, and they know I can't shoot with a torch… God, I really hope no one comes up he–"

His sentence died in his throat as he turned around to face the brick shithouse of a Khajiit standing behind him. The torchlight threw glittering reflections onto Joe's sword and grin-bared teeth. The Bosmer gaped for a few seconds, almost frozen in place, before the torch sputtered out in a particularly rough gust of wind.

The Bosmer's screams of terror were carried away on that same breeze.

The tw- three? Compatriots entered the barrow. The small Bosmer took point, motioning to Joe and Jen to follow. His torch long forgotten outside, the Bosmer had taken his opportunity at life instead of death, threw his torch and weapons down, and begged the two adventurers to take him with them, he was crimped(1) into this, please don't kill him he just wants to get back to Solitude and his family. Joe and Jen had taken a glance at each other, an unheard conversation passing between the two in that moment, then took pity on the blubbering mer.

But now he was sneaking point, the first in the line of fire. Better than dying out in the frozen wastes, he thought as he lined up a shot at his former "leader", aiming for her inner thigh, exposed as it was by her stance by the firepit; his arrows were paralysis poisoned, and that's where his master, long ago, told him to aim for the fastest effect. His shot flew true, his former boss giving a shout of surprise as she was interrupted in her stewmaking, before collapsing, stiff as a board, a second later. Joe and Jenassa fell upon the rest of the group from behind, an all-out slaughter happening in the chamber, echoes of dying cries reverberating off the cold stone walls.

The artificial cave lay silent soon enough, the last whispering breath from the dying fading away. All that was left were the three adventurers, breathing heavy yet trying to waft away the stench of death; the heavy scent of blood, feces, and urine. They moved on without much preamble; the Bosmer man taking point once more.

"I'm Haedil, by the way." The Bosmer man supplied, out of the blue, as they cleared through the first wave of Draugr.

"We'll introduce ourselves at the end of this, if you make it." Jennassa said, eyeing the Bosmer critically. Haedil shrugged, and didn't take it personally. After all, he was only alive on their good will.

They all made it, thankfully, Haedil thought as they emerged into early morning light cresting the mountain range. It took hours, and more than a few potions each, before they even made it to the last chamber. The Khajiit (Jo'shak?) was entranced by the weird writing on the wall while Haedil and the Dunmer (Jenassa?) began fighting off the nightmare of a Draugr. Jo'shak gave the killing blow, though, his steel mace lighting the pitch-ridden body ablaze with its enchantment. They absconded from the cave as soon as Jo'shak located the stone he was seeking.

The three adventurers scaled down the rocky outcropping they ended up on, and the Khajiit and Dunmer led the way down the mountain. Everyone was exhausted and wanted to find a place to rest. Jo'shak and Jenassa stopped briefly, halfway down, to introduce themselves. Haedil expressed his explicit gratitude, then told them of his tale;

He was a Solitude dock worker, when an unknown ship came to port. He went to tend to them and tie them in, and they were all sorts of friendly. Eventually, they talked him and a few other dock workers onto deck to see what wares they had to sell at port, but they cast off right after getting everyone on deck; upon threat of death, all five of the dock workers (including him) were forced to join their group of bandits.

Haedil had been with them for nearly 8 months at this time; he was the only dock worker left of the bunch. He got choked up while speaking of his friends from the dock; Joe and Jen listened patiently to the mer's grievances, and Joe patted the mer's shoulder comfortingly at several different points in the story. Both Joe and Jen were silently thanking their instincts to spare this mer; he was as innocent of a Bandit as one could find.

The three exhausted compatriots made it to Riverwood before dawn, and surprisingly, Orgnar was still awake and tending the bar. He seemed surprised to see the group, but asked no questions as Joe paid out of pocket for all of their rooms; he had amassed a rather large collection of gems and septims, thanks to the burial urns looted in the barrow. None of them said a word as they dragged their tired carcasses into their respective beds, armor and all.

22 First Seed, 4E 201

The morning birdsong awoke Zaykari from his beautiful dream chasing hocks of honey-roasted ham through verdant meadows. His full belly from the night before fueled his pleasant dreams; all thanks to the strange, altruistic red-haired woman. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, rubbing a paw over his face, before focusing on the sleeping woman also occupying the bed. He watched her for a moment before becoming slightly concerned; she….didn't move much in her sleep. A paw placed under her nose confirmed that she was, in fact, breathing, but even when Zaykari meowed in her face and pushed on her cheeks, she did not wake. She didn't even stir.

Whatever. He could explore in the meantime; he was feeling much better from his hefty dinner last night. He was honestly surprised he didn't retch it up from eating so fast, but he wasn't one to question good things he quite literally fell into. He just wished he didn't fall into a waterway; he smelt horrible. He couldn't go into public like this, he decided, so he started grooming himself thoroughly.

After he was done grooming, he began to explore the closed room. Not much interesting except for her bag underneath the bed, hiding behind the chamberpot. She probably thought she was so slick hiding it behind there; didn't she know that there were superior noses in this place? He supposed he couldn't really sift through it yet, for risk of waking her, but it did have an awful lot of strange and foreign scents about it.

Zaykari leapt up onto the windowsill, gazing out the wavy glass panes. A nudge of Telekinesis and it was open, and him out the window. He leapt gracefully from the second story onto the first story roof, then down to a barrel, then to the ground from there. In his hungry and weakened state, he didn't pay much attention to Whiterun other than the places he could get food, so he set out on a fun little jaunt to explore the beauty of Whiterun.

….Which ended in him scrambling back into the window of the lady's room half an hour later, an angry Hulda on his heels, broomstick in hand, brandishing it like a staff. The woman was awake now, body bare to the world as she seemed to be bathing with a cloth and bucket. Zaykari paid no attention and zoomed under the bed, quick as lightning, hiding from the scary innkeeper that recognized him as the sneakthief stealing all her Argonian Ale and the snowberry tarts. The woman shouted in surprise,

"Jesus tapdancing christ, what the fuck?" Zaykari understood none of the first three words, so she must be foreign. There were some shuffling and rustling noises above him, then the lady stepped off the bed and went to the window, where Hulda had started to yell up at the open window. It seemed as if she had draped the blanket about her as a garment, much to Zaykari's disappointment.

There was an argument between the lady and the innkeep, Zaykari could care less, he was safe here. He curled up behind the lady's strange-smelling pack to hide away from the anger of humans.

Meanwhile, Lilija told Hulda to wait one moment; she'll get her clothes on and come down. After about five minutes, leaving an angry and impatient Hulda pacing beneath the window, Lilija appeared at the door, the simple green woolen dress on once more.

Hulda marched straight up to the red haired woman, face twisted into an ugly sneer. Lilija stood still, a "bitch please" expression plastered across her face, as Hulda exploded in her face, shouting obscenities towards her, most of them along the general lines of cat-loving-piece-of-shit. After her insults were worn out, she moved on to screaming about the missing stock because of "Her" cat. Lilija raised her hand, palm towards the fuming blonde, in a gesture for pause. Hulda did indeed pause, not for respect of her request, but for the fact that she was thoroughly winded.

"What gives ya the impression that little shit is-is my cat?" Was all Lilija inquired, hand resting on a cocked hip.

"Because it ran into your Gods'-damned room! And you had that filthy khajiit following you around all the other day; I remember turning you away. You obviously harbor them." Hulda groused, her lip curling in disgust when she mentioned Joe.

"When'd yer stock go missing?" Lilija asked. The question caught Hulda off guard, who answered,

"Day before yesterday night, why?"

"Well, that weren't my cat 'till last night, so I don't see any reason to hold me accountable." Lilija shrugged, "Not my problem, ya dumb bitch." She turned away, back to the entrance of the Drunken Huntsman. However, as she turned, she felt a hand come down on her shoulder and bury its nails into her flesh. In a second, she whirled around, suckerpunching the blonde bitch with all the strength she had. Unfortunately, that wasn't much, and all it did was startle Hulda into letting go. After just a split moment, she lunged forwards with an inarticulate scream of rage.

The two women rolled through the grass, screaming and shouting obscenities at each other, nails tearing at flesh and ripping hair. People in the square jumped to get out of the way of the tousling ladies. Elrindir shouted for the guards behind them, but he was too late; already, a large man in strange steel armor was separating them, grabbing Hulda by the collar and Lilija by the arm. He held them at arms' length, both women straining against him to get at the other. Blood flowed down Hulda's face from a cut above her eyebrow, and she had a decent bruise forming where she was struck first. Lilija's teeth were bared in a feral snarl, blood leaking from a busted lip, death shining in her eyes. She had never gotten into a physical fight before, and it felt good.

"Act like adults, both of you," the dark haired man said, his voice low and rumbling. If Lilija was paying any attention, she would notice that it was the same man she helped the previous night. The dark haired man handed Hulda off to an approaching guard, explained what he saw to said guard, then led Lilija away with the guard's blessings. Apparently Hulda was known for targeting people who liked cats, and Khajiits. Lilija was still fuming from the altercation, and didn't really question why she didn't get in trouble.

"You okay?" The deep voice rumbled from her right side. She looked up at the man, startled for just a moment, then grinned.

"Better'n she's feeling now, I-I'd imagine." Lilija replied, then looked down at her arm. He still had quite the grip on her arm, and it was…well, he was kind-of pulling her shoulder out of socket. "I'd feel a lot better, though, if you'd stop tryin'a remove my arm." She brushed back the fabric bunched near her shoulder, showing him the obvious deformity at her joint. He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, then released her arm. The deformity disappeared as her shoulder settled back into place with a light click. Lilija signed in relief and rubbed at it;

"Thanks, and thanks fer get-getting me outta that sitchiation.(2)" She said, looking up at the man's face, getting a good look at him for the first time. His eyes were beautiful chips of ice set back below a strong brow, dark circles adorning them, and a strong square-shaped head. His lips were pinched, a bit, but he was all-around a generally handsome man. And…wait, were those wolves on his armor?

"Not a problem at all, after you helped me last night." He rumbled back, nodding to her. "If you hadn't intervened, I probably wouldn't be standing here. I thank you for that. Only healers know how to help with those things. Are you a healer?"

Only when she saw the armor did it dawn on Lilija that the man she helped was none other than Farkas himself, and he had just gotten her out of a situation that would have had her expunged from the city in no time.

"Uh, I guess I used to be a type of healer, yes," she replied, blinking a bit dumbly. "But please, think nothin' of it, dude, I just did what needed to be done. You help't me outta that situation, consider us even."

"You didn't need to help me, you don't know me. You were under no obligations whatsoever. I don't consider us even at all; you saved my life, I helped you not get thrown out for fighting with our wealthiest innkeep." He replied, matter-of-fact, keeping eye contact with Lilija the entire time. She had to respect him for that; not many people could handle how much uncomfortable eye contact she initiated.

"I, uh… I mean, you're welcome, then, I guess? But thanks for getting me outta there, again." Lilija awkwardly shrugged, smiling uncertainly.

"You should come up to our hall; I would like to introduce you to the rest of my companions. I'm Farkas. And your name is?"

"My friends call me Lyd–...Lilija. You can call me that, too, if you'd like."

"Okay, Lilija."

(1) Crimped; (see also; shanghaied) "the practice of kidnapping people to serve as sailors by coercive techniques such as trickery, intimidation, or violence." I'm applying this historical word to bandits instead of sailors.

(2) sitchiation; sit-chee-a-shun; "slang/misspelling of "situation", a problematic time."