Author's Note: Yeah...yeah. At least this time I have a valid execuse. I literally could not find where I put this chapter. Then the panini, then life but thanks to NaNoWriMo, you have another chapter. Rejoice. And finally Act 1 is done. And you're in luck because as I was editing this to post I decided to go look for the next chapter and I found it! I'm not going to start on it till the new year cause I am creatively burnt out but I know where it has to go and that's all that matters. Enjoy, leave a comment. I like those.

With their business in Windhelm concluded, once they resupplied and Lydia was able to get another cuirass, they returned to Whiterun with the intent to take an overdue but much deserved break from adventuring and deal with some personal matters. M'rasha had some errands to take care of plus all those sweet, sweet alchemical ingredients she need to sort though and Lydia wanted to see her friends around town and perhaps take a visit to Rorikstead to visit family. But their plans of relaxation were dashed as soon as they approached the city's gates. There was a large uproar coming from inside, so loud that it could be heard outside the walls. They greeted the guards and entered the city, trying to ignore the scene as M'rasha unlocked Breezehome. But the ever growing crowd and noise was like a beacon the Khajiit and her ears kept turning towards it.

"We could ignore it," pleaded Lydia, tired from their long journey. "We don't have to know what's going on. We can find out later. After a break, after a nap."

"We could..."

The Nord sighed, passing her travel pack to her Thane who tossed it inside the building. "But we're not."

"If it was just a bar brawl, then sure. But this is something bigger than that and it's only a matter of time until we get roped into this somehow. Might as well deal with it sooner than later."

Lydia pinched the bridge of nose and grimaced, her dreams of a quiet time home, dashed. "I hate it when you're right."

"Me too, Lydia," M'rasha said, patting the taller woman on the shoulder, "Me too."

M'rasha locked the door once more and the two walked up the street to the market. A multi-man brawl had broken out in the middle of the market square, which was the norm since the Bannered Mare was right there. What was even more outrageous was seeing two guards and Idolaf Battle-Born pull a frenzied Fralia Gray-Mane off of his father, Olfrid, who was now sporting several bruises on his face and a split lip.

"That's something you don't see everyday," M'rasha commented.

It was an interesting sight but didn't warrant a delay in sleep time for Lydia. "There, we've seen what was going on. Can we please go back home?"

"In a minute. We may have missed the fight but the show's not over."

Fralia jerked out of the men's grip. "I will never accept his death! My son still lives. I feel it in my heart. So tell me, Battle-Borns, where is he? Where are you holding my Thorald?"

The Battle-Born men looked at each other and then erupted in laughter.

"Do you believe this old hag?" Olfrid looked to the crowd that had gathered. "'Holding him'? Why I've got him in my cellar. He's my prisoner. Face it, cow! Your stupid son is dead! He died a Stormcloak traitor. And you... you best keep your mouth shut before you suffer the same."

Idolaf threw an arm around his father's shoulders and led him towards the city gates. "Come on, father. There's nothing more to be said here. Let Fralia go mad with grief, alone."

With that the Battle-Borns left the area and most of the crowd dispersed with the spectacle seemingly over. Fralia sobbed as her daughter led her back to the stall.

"Satisfied," asked Lydia.

"Quite. Now let's head home." M'rasha yawned and stretched. "There's a nap in my near future."

"Excuse me?"

The women turned to see Fralia standing before them, hands clasped. "I don't know where your loyalties lie but please, would you help an old woman?"

"Told you so," M'rasha whispered to Lydia before turning back to the old woman. "What was all of that about?" M'rasha questioned, playing dumb.

"They have my son I know it!"

"Who?"

"The Legion and the Thalmor!" Fralia pointed at Olfrid's retreating figure. "And the Battle-Borns know it."

The Khajiit didn't like entirely convinced and scratched the back of her head. "That is a very big assumption. Are you sure about that?"

And just like that, the sadness on the Gray-Mane matriarch's face twisted into a look of disgust. "How easy I forget that you cats are nothing but the Thalmor's pets," Fralia spat out.

"Mother, please!" Her daughter berated and then addressed the women. "She is despondent. Please ignore her."

Lydia stared at the other Nord warily. "So I've seen."

But M'rasha wasn't as forgiving as her housecarl. The Khajiit moved closer until she was eye to eye with Fralia. Her eyes were narrowed, her tail flicking erratically behind her, her mouth turned into a snarl.

"Don't you ever put me with the Thalmor or I'll rip out your treacherous tongue and use it in a potion."

The threat of violence from the normally jovial Betmer stunned Fralia. Olfina pulled her mother away from the irate Dragonborn as M'rasha hissed at the two and, without another word, stomped back to Breezehome. Lydia gave her fellow Nords a sympathetic glance before following M'rasha. When she got inside, her Thane had her arms braced against the kitchen counter. In the time she knew her, Lydia never saw M'rasha this frazzled. She approached the Betmer from the side as to not spook her and sat down on a nearby free bar stool.

"Are you okay?"

The Khajiit bowed her head and shook it. "To be honest, no."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

M'rasha shook her head again, pushed off and started for the stairs. Lydia was worried.

"Hey." M'rasha stopped and turned to the Nord.

"You know that I'll be there if you need me, right?"

"You're my housecarl," M'rasha stated.

"I mean as a friend."

A pained look formed on the Khajiit's face and she opened her mouth to respond. But then she closed it and patted Lydia on the shoulder before walking up the stairs. Lydia wasn't sure what to make of the woman's reaction but she knew one thing was for certain: She needed a drink.

Lydia woke the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging through cabinets downstairs. She grabbed a short sword she kept under the bed, left her bedroom and quietly walked down the stairs, skipping the fourth squeaky step. When she got to the bottom, she found M'rasha searching in some dressers near kitchen bar. She was dressed in a tunic with a fur vest over that, black pants and slippers. Lydia relaxed and leaned on the banister.

"Someone is being awfully noisy this morning," yawned the Nord.

M'rasha looked over her shoulder. "It's actually past noon and I apologize. I'm just looking for some blank parchment."

"What for? A letter?"

M'rasha nodded. "I know we have some in the house. We had some before we left, unless someone broke in and decided to just abscond with all the blank paper."

"Why not just buy some from Belethor?"

"Because the moment I buy some and return, I'm going to find a spare sheet and be doubly pissed." M'rasha grabbed a stool, placed it next to the large armoire and climbed it. Balancing on her toes, she patted at the surface for a few seconds before letting out a triumphant laugh. She pulled back a piece of parchment, dusty and yellowing, from the top and hopped back down.

"See! We have some!"

"Hooray." Lydia let out another yarn and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Anything on the agenda today?"

M'rasha shook her head, taking a seat at the bar. She produced a quill from the pockets of her vest and began writing. Lydia walked over to M'rasha and looked over shoulder at the letter.

"Who are you writing to?"

The alchemist dragged her body over the paper, obscuring the view and glared at the Nord. "It's private."

"Ooooh a love letter? Who's the lucky cat?"

"Not a love letter and my husband's a Nord."

Lydia put her hands up backed away slowly from the agitated Khajiit. "Alright. Sorry for asking. Don't have to be so snarky. I'm going to back to bed."

M'rasha went right back to writing. "Have a good sleep."

"Did you hear the word out of Hjaarlmarch?"

Lydia put her cup of mead on the counter. "No, but I'm pretty sure you're going to tell me, Sinmir."

"A slaughter. Imperial forces found a Stormcloak base and killed everyone. Men, women, and children. No one was spared."

That soured her stomach. Mikael, seated on her other side, cursed. "That's horrible."

Lydia raised her her cup. "May they be at peace and reach Sovenguard."

Sinmir scoffed before drinking his own ale. "Hmph. Bold of you to offer that up seeing as who you work for."

The woman glowered at the fighter. "Explain or leave me to drink."

"Your cat is ex-Legion," he stated. Lydia rolled her eyes at that.

"So?" She already knew that.

"But it seems she's back to wearing the brown and red," Sinmir added.

"No, she's not," Lydia denied. The Nord hadn't seen anything stating otherwise.

"She might not have enlisted out right, but she's been feeding them info."

"And how do you know?"

"How many couriers have come to your house recently?"

Lydia opened her mouth and then closed it. She couldn't deny that there were a lot more messengers visiting the house but there was an easy explanation for that. Despite being a Khajiit in region that was... not friendly towards them, M'rasha was someone of rather high importance and there were many people in Skyrim who wanted a piece of her time. She was seeing letters addressed to the College of Winterhold, the Bard's College, and individuals of good repute. All in all, Sinmir's little reveal means nothing to her.

"Face it!" He pointed his finger right in her face. "That Khajiit is the Legion's bitch which makes you the bitch of a bitch!"

Lydia calmly finished her drink, enjoying the crisp, cool taste as it went down. She then proceeded to smash the empty mead bottle that was sitting on the counter against the Nord's face. He stumbled to the ground with a groan. Lydia then hopped off the stool, picked it up and broke it over the man's body, rendering him unconscious. She turned back to Hulda who was looking in stunned silence. "So can I get another drink, Hulda?"

"Your Thane is here to get you, Lydia."

Lydia rose from the cell floor and brushed her pants off. It wasn't a surprise that she would be arrested. What was more of a surprise was that someone was bailing her out. Was it Mikael? Maybe Uthgerd? Or was it Sinmir looking for a rematch? She walked to the bars and seconds later she got her answer. The smiling face of M'rasha appeared and she huffed. "Hold on. Let me just savior this." M'rasha just grinned.

"Haha." Lydia gripped the bars. "Just get me out."

"What's the magic word?"

"Bite me."

"Lydia!" M'rasha placed an arm on her own chest, mock shock on her face. "We're in public. I didn't think you were like that."

Lydia covered her face in embarrassment. "Fuck you, M'rasha."

"Again, we're in public."

"Just get me out," the Nord whined. "Before I die from embarrassment."

"Oh, we can't have that." She motioned to the guard who unlocked the cell. Lydia recovered her gear and the two left the castle dungeons, and walked down the stairs of Dragonsreach just as the sun was setting. "So..."

Lydia sighed. "You're going to ask, so ask away."

"Why did you almost beat Sinmir to death?"

Lydia stopped which made M'rasha stop. She took a deep breath and said, "He called you a Legion bitch and called me the bitch of a bitch."

M'rasha blinked at her slowly then rolled up her sleeves. "So where is Sinmir's place?"

The next morning the residence of Whiterun woke to a most amusing scene. Right outside of Dragonsreach, the guards and the residents of the keep found Sinmir bound by the ankles to the archway. He was gagged, stripped naked, and on his chest was painted in white "I'M AN ARSEHOLE." Commander Caius sighed as he walked to Breezehome accompanied by a guard. Once they got Sinmir down, and stopped laughing at him, the Nord had accused Lydia of attacking him and stringing him up. So Caius was going to verify and potentially arrest Lydia for the second time in less than three days. At Breezehome he was greeted by M'rasha who looked like she was dealing with the mother of all hangovers. The Imperial announced why he was there and that he needed to speak to Lydia.

"No need Caius. We were at the Drunken Huntsman and fell asleep there. She's still asleep now and I'd rather not get punched in the stomach while trying to rouse her. She's nasty when she has a hangover."

He walked over to the Drunken Huntsman and talked to Elrindir, Jenassa, and Ahlam who all confirmed that both M'rasha and Lydia spent the evening and the night at the store. Lydia never left the building but M'rasha left to go home and retrieve some wine she had procured in Solitiude. She was gone for five minutes, not enough time to go find Sinmir, incapitate and strip him, and tie him up. With an alibi that solid, the trail went cold much to Sinmir's anger. Though he couldn't shake the feeling that the Khajiit was at fault somehow, especially when he spotted the jog smeared with white paint near the fireplace...

It wasn't the soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof or even the drip drip of water that leaked into a bucket on the first floor no matter how much tar Lydia put on the roof that woke her up. It was the 50 pound whining ball of fur that decided to jump right on her chest as she slept. The Nord let out a groan of discomfort before shoving Meeko off of her and off the bed. Lydia sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"You needy dog," she yawned. "Go bother your master."

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and noticed there was a note tied to the dog. Lydia called Meeko onto her bed, untied the rope around his neck and opened the note.

Got called away.

Time sensitive.

You sleep like the dead.

Be back soon.

(Feed Meeko)

-M

Lydia was a bit surprised that M'rasha left without her. They've been joined at the hip for the last few moths but then again M'rasha was able to take care of herself before she became Thane. She would be fine. Lydia, on the other hand, had more free time but there was nothing to do but really rest, especially with the rainy weather. Meeko whined and placed his head on her lap. Lydia smiled and scratched behind the dog's ears.

"M'rasha will be fine Meeko. She was before she met us. She'll be back before you know it. Now c'mon, let's get some breakfast." At the mention of food, Meeko barked excitedly, jumped off the bed and headed down the stairs with Lydia not to far behind her.

"Hello Lydia!"

Lydia was outside enjoying the rare nice weather under the shade of the healed Gildergreen when looked up to see Fralia blocking the sun. "Fralia. I'm not in the market for any jewelry today, thanks."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

The older woman leaned in closer to Lydia. "Have...have you seen M'rasha? Is she at Breezehome?"

That was an odd thing to ask. "I'm afraid not Fralia. She got called away about a week ago."

Fralia seemed dissappointed by the news. "I...I see. Well, if you see M'rasha, tell her that I'm looking for her."

This was not her business but at the same time Lydia was getting curious. "I shall."

Fralia nodded, turned away and then suddenly yelped.

Lydia rose from the bench, concerned. "Are you okay Fralia?"

Fralia waved her off. "Ah, yes! You now these old bones. New pains everyday." She tried to laugh it off but she wasn't fooling Lydia. "Well, I must be off! Take care."

"You too." She watched Fralia return to her stall. Lydia casually walked over to the staircase and leaned on the stone archway, eyes trained on Fralia. The matriarch looked around to see if anyone was watching, pulled out a note from her side pouch, read it and then quickly stuffed it back in. She told Olfina to mind the stall for a while and left. Lydia took her seat back under the Gildergreen just as Fralia came up the steps. She went past the giant tree and towards the Gray-Mane House but instead of going inside like Lydia assumed, Fralia went around the side. Lydia got up and quietly followed her, staying out of sight. She peeked around the corner and her eyes went wide as she watched the older woman speaking with a floating orb of light.

"Please, tell me you have news of my son," begged Fralia, clasping the note in her hands.

"Thoral is safe..." The voice from the orb was wispy, ethereal, and yet familiar. Hearing her son was safe, Fralia slumped in relief against the house.

"Is he? I must see him at once. Tell me where he is!"

"I'm afraid he is no longer here, Fralia."

Fralia looked crushed. "Thorald is dead? Did those elves kill my son?"

"No." The ball disappeared and then reappeared, brighter than ever. "I'm afraid he's not here. Both Thorald and Avulstein did not think it was safe to return. Better to be on the run and alive than to come back and invite the Dominion's wrath."

Fralia straightened up. "What? After all this, I can't even see him? How...How do I know you're telling me the truth, and not just what I want to hear?"

"Suffer the winter's cold wind..."

Fralia clutched her chest and fell to her knees, sobbing. "For it bears aloft next summer's seed. That's my boy."

She cried for a bit and Lydia from where she stood, she could swear she saw a shimmering hand on the woman's shoulder. Fralia sniffed and wiped away her tears. "So it's true, then. For now, it's enough to know that they are both alive and I can find peace in that. Thank you, dear friend. You have given me my son back. I have something to give you."

The orb bounced around a bit. "Keep it. A way to remember him by."

Fralia bowed her head. "May the Divine bless the ground under you."

The stall owner turned to leave but the orb moved in front of her, blocking her path. "The Battle-Borns were trying to find out where your son was being kept. They weren't the one who handed him over. They asked me to get him out."

A small book appeared in front of the Gray Mane matriarch and fell to the ground. Fralia picked it up and read it, face morphing into disbelief. "Impossible...I thought..."

"Just because they support the Empire doesn't not mean they support the Thalmor."

And then the orb disappeared. Fralia held the book to her chest and went inside. Lydia returned home only to find that M'rasha had returned and was resting in the chair next to the hearth a damp cloth on her head, petting Meeko who was halfway in her lap.

"Welcome home, M'rasha."

She muttered a "Hello" and waved but didn't move. Lydia decided to let the woman decompress from her long adventure alone and started for her room to give M'rasha privacy. She got halfway up the stairs when the Betmer called out to her.

"Lydia." The Nord in question stopped and face the Thane. "Yes?"

"As much as you want to, please don't tell others about Thorald and Avulstein either. We don't want the Thalmor at our door either."

Lydia's eyes went wide. "O-of course."

"Ah, another night of drinking. Still missing your little kitty?"

Lydia laughed, almost choking on the beer in her mouth. She swallowed and the spat back at the bard, "At least I have one. Looks like all you attract is cock."

Mikael stumbled back grabbing her chest. "Ouch. You wound me. You see how I'm treated Saadia? A kiss from you may heal my wounded soul."

Saadia grabbed the Nord's empty dishes. "Only kiss you're getting from me is my boot to your mouth."

Mikael staggered back dramatically. "Ack! Foiled again! Sinmir, aid me!"

"Psh, don't talk to that Legion whore!" The Stormcloak was pissed drunk as he sat at the hearth. Anger rising, Lydia slid off the stool and moved towards the man but Mikael and Olfina grabbed onto her, stopping her advanced.

"Don't." The barmaid warned. "He's drunk. Probably doesn't know why he's saying."

"Oh, but I...I do!" Sinmir got to his feet, sauntered over barely balanced, and poked Lydia in the chest. "You... work with a murderer."

"Spit it out, before I make you spit it up," Lydia threatened.

"Your cat has been helping to capture and kill Stormcloaks."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "And I'm Talos."

He got real close to her face to the point she could smell the mead on his breath and it was making her nauseous. "The other night, me and Mikael saw her talking to Imperial officer and him giving her some gold. Two days later, some Stormcloaks were slaughtered along with their families in Dawnstar. With magic."

The Legion giving M'rasha money was strange but that didn't mean she was giving them information. She broke out of her friends' grip and went back to her drink. "Imperials have battlemages."

"But how many know to use the Thu'um?" Lydia stopped in mid-sip.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. Some of our boys who escaped the Imperials overheard their soldiers boasting how having the Dragonborn on their side is going to help greatly in dampening the Stormcloaks morale. Ask her if you don't believe me. Listen to her excuses. But know this as long as you are associating with her, we are not friends."

He went back to the hearth and sat back down on a bench. The bard whistled as he sat back down next to her. "Talk about a downer."

"Is he telling the truth Mikael? Did you see a Legion soldier passing off money to M'rasha?"

The bard winced but nodded. "Yeah, it was right behind Breezehome, possibly while you were sleeping. Couldn't tell what they were talking about but what Sinmir didn't say is that M'rasha refused the money. I'm sure she had nothing to do with that awful buisness. She doesn't seem like the type of person."

Lydia was silent, trying to take in and process all this new information. The piece of bread in her hands was being ripped into messy pieces.

"Are you okay Lydia?"

"Yeah." She was lying, hoping to just squash the topic.

Mikael gave her a worried look and picked up his lute. "Well, let me sing a song to put a smile on that beautiful face of yours. 'There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red…'"

A few hours later, Lydia left the inn and returned home. Meeko was laying in one of the chairs, wagging his tail when she approached. She gave him a few scratches and then headed upstairs. Before she retired to her room, Lydia carefully and quietly opened the door to M'rasha's room and peeked inside. The Khajiit was fast asleep on her table once more. Sighing, the Nord picked the Betmer up and placed her in the bed, drawing the blanket over her. Lydia crept out of the room, went to her own, took of her armor, put on her sleeping clothes and got into her bed but didn't get any sleep that night as her brain pounded with hypotheticals.

What if Sinmir was right and M'rasha was working with the Empire?

But then what was with her reaction to being called a Thalmor supporter?

Why help Fralia, a known Stormcloak supporter?

Was she really against the Empire or was it all an act?

Would M'rasha turn her into the Legion if she disobeyed her command?

Would she turn her in to the Thalmor for Talos worship?

She rightly didn't know. And that's what terrified her the most.

Lydia was preparing lunch for M'rasha one day when there a knock on the door. She wiped her hands on the apron around her torso, opened the door and came face to face with a Nord man wearing Imperial armor. He was an older man, pale skin with long, graying brown shoulder length hair. His uniform was unlike the one she saw on the privates and the auxiliary soldiers. He was probably a higher ranked soldier.

"Can I help you," she asked, cautiously.

"Maybe you can, my lady." He pulled off his helmet, "Does the Khajiit called M'rasha live here?" The Nord attempted to peer inside.

"Depends..." She moved to block his view. "Who are you?"

He straightened himself and puffed up his chest. "I am Legate Thorson and I've come to speak with the alchemist, M'rasha."

Lydia was immediately was on edge. She could easily deny him entry, M'rasha had never mentioned him and she was the sensible person who didn't want strangers in her home. At the same time Lydia wanted to know what M'rasha's reaction to having an Imperial Legionnaire in her home. There was no delaying the inevitable.

"Please come in." Lydia went back inside and Thorson followed, closing the door behind him. Meeko, who was seated by the kitchen counter.

"Wait here." She pointed at the small table opposite to the stairs. The soldier nodded and moved to the table while Lydia went upstairs to get M'rasha.

She opened to find the Khajiit pouring over an alchemic textbook and taking notes. "M'rasha."

"What is it," M'rasha asked, still reading. "You know I hate when you interrupt my research."

"Apologies, but you have a visitor." The Thane lifted her head and looked at Lydia, suddenly interested.

"And who might that be?"

"A Legion soldier. Name's Thorson. Shall I-"

Lydia was pushed out of the way by M'rasha who went thundering down the stairs. The Nord regained her balanced and followed her down the stairs just as the Betmer kicked the front door and pointed outside. "Get out of my house!"

Thorson had his hands up, defensively. "I just wanted-"

The man didn't finish his plea as the alchemist grabbed him by the front of his armor, marched him to the door, hurled him outside, screaming, "I said, get out of my house!"

As he landed in a heap on the path, M'rasha pointed a claw at him. "I will not be dragged into this war! Not again!"

At this point, some of the city's residents began to gather around to watch the spectacle. Legate Thorson got to his feet, fixing his uniform. "I'm not asking you to come back as a soldier but as a trainer for our fledgling battlemages."

M'rasha snarled as she turned and stomped back into the house. Thorson was right behind her. He reached out and grabbed her arm, halting her departure. "Please reconsider? We need someone as decorated and talented as you. I know you have no love for the Stormcloaks."

The Khajiit looked down at where he was touching her and wretched her arm away. She shoved a finger in his face and conjured up a fireball that on the very tip of that same finger.

"I don't care if you were Emperor himself," she growled, "I did my time in the Legion and do you know what it got me? Almost executed. Not once, not twice. Three times!"

Thorson let go of M'rasha and took a cautious step back, hand up. She lowered her finger and moved back.

"Fus! Ro! Dah!"

Lydia from the stairs watched Thorson's eyes go wide as he was blown out of Breezehome by M'rasha's Unrelenting Force shout. He landed on the other side of the path on the grassy hill. M'rasha was moving as soon as the shout ended. She stalked over to where the man laid, conjuring a shimmering blue blade in her hand. She aimed the sword at his face, the tip very close to his nose.

"You show up at my house again and I will return your head on a pike to the Legion," M'rasha threatened. The growing crowd began to murmur loudly. Lydia poked head out the door and saw Commander Caius and two guards watching M'rasha very closely. The Nord left the house and grabbed the still furious M'rasha by the waist and tried to move away.

"Come on M'rasha. You're causing a scene." Lydia whispered, looking at the crowd. "The guards are watching. Let's get back inside." M'rasha's angry gaze never left the downed soldier but she let Lydia pull her back into the house. The door closed and M'rasha pulled out her grip as the ethereal blade she held vanished.

"Lydia." The housecarl watched her warily as she rubbed tiredly at her face. "I'm not too be bothered for the rest of the day. I don't care if the city is on fire, just tell them I'm dead."

With that, the Betmer retreated to her room, leaving a very, very perplexed Lydia downstairs.

M'rasha was in the middle of washing her hair in the living room, after returning from another solo adventure. Lydia watched, finding it ironic that the Khajiit liked water. And yes, the Nord knew that comparing her to a cat was wrong but she couldn't help it.

"I can hear your staring," M'rasha announced before dumping water on her head.

Lydia looked at her, questioningly, "How can you hear me stare? Is that a Dragonborn thing or a weird M'rasha thing?"

Her Thane didn't answer. Instead M'rasha rose up from the chair, head hanging down, hair wet and walked towards the housecarl. When she was close enough, M'rasha shook her head vigorously, splashing water at Lydia.

"Hey!" She put her hands up to block the water but she was still getting soaked. M'rasha looked up at her through damp locks, a big grin on her face. "That's what you get for being a smartass."

Lydia wiped the excess water off as M'rasha walked back to the bucket and wrung her hair out. "So where did you go this time," Lydia asked.

"The great city of Solitude. Big, pretentious and somehow really easy to get lost in."

"What did you do there?"

M'rasha was combing out her hair and turned to Lydia, eyebrow arched. "So inquisitive today! If you must know I was there doing a favor."

"To who?"

"The Skooma Cat."

"What?"

"Sorry. You Nords know him better by the name Sheogorath."

"The Daedric Prince of madness?" Lydia was shocked and impressed. She heard about what happened to those who caught that Prince's eye. It normally did not end well for them. "And you survived with the mind intact?"

"Yes and yes...I think. Let's just say don't help any beggars looking for their master."

She finished with her hair and then pointed to a simple staff that was laying against the wall. At the very tip was the face of a screaming man. "Also don't touch this staff."

Before she could ask, M'rasha cut her off. "I turned a rabbit into a frost troll and a dragon into a fox. Needless to say that staff is highly dangerous and going to the College of Winterhold vaults so no one can ever use it again."

Lydia drew back her hand. "Duly noted."

"M'rasha? I have food." Lydia pushed the door open and saw the Khajiit asleep on the table surrounded by empty wine bottles. She pinched the bridge of nose, aggravated and complained quietly, "You have a bed. It's right there. Three feet! I swear to Talos you do this on purpose to me."

She moved closer to the sleeping Thane and noticed a letter her sleeping body. Lydia started to read what she could see.

L.T,

What are you fighting against that you need to request so many potions? The entire population of Riften?

An army?

The Stormcloaks?

Giants?

You are starting to drain my resources and frankly, testing my patience. My cost is going up for you.

Start learning alchemy if that pisses you off.

Here's what is enclosed.

The rest of the letter was obscured but the wording made Lydia even more anxious. Just then, M'rasha lifted her head and yawned. "Lydia? What is it?"

"Oh!" She placed the stew on the table. "Brought you food."

"Oh." M'rasha yawned again and smiled sleepily at the Nord. "Thanks."

And the she fell right back to sleep.

Lydia was wrapped in her blankets, having some of the best sleep she had in the last couple weeks when she was literally yanked out of bed. She yelped as her body hit the cold wooden floor, tangled in the blanket. After fighting with it for a few moments, the Nord finally was able to poke her head out from the cocoon of warmth to give M'rasha a death stare. She noticed that the Khajiit was dressed for warmth and surmised that she was probably leaving again.

"Good. You're awake," the Khajiit said snarky. Lydia struggled but eventually got free of the thick blanket. She shivered and wrapped it around her shoulders, still glaring at the shorter woman. "You pulled me off the bed. Tell me why I shouldn't throw you down the stairs."

"Because you love me."

Lydia stared at her with a blank look and after five seconds, went for the woman's shoulders. The Khajiit sidestepped the grab, laughing, and then put her hands up. "Okay, okay. It's because I need your help with something important."

That shook some of the sleep and annoyance from Lydia's head. "Truly?"

M'rasha nodded. "Truly. After you fully wake up and get dressed, we'll eat and I'll tell you then. And dress for the cold."

The Betmer left her and Lydia prepared as she was told. She dressed in some her warmest clothes and then put on the enchanted armor M'rasha gave her and walked downstairs. The Betmer was seated at the small table where an assortment of foods was spread out. The spicy smell of horker stew hit Lydia's nose as she sat down.

"So give me the details," said Lydia as she started eating her stew, breaking off a piece of fresh bread and dipping it. M'rasha finished her spiced wine before pulling out a rolled piece of parchment and waved it around.

"Jarl Igmund and Jarl Siddgeir have asked for our help in catching a very dangerous, escaped convict."

Lydia stopped mid-sip. "Dangerous? What's was the crime?"

M'rasha's face turned grim as she unfurled it and read it, "Murder of 2 Markarth guard, murder of a Markarth citizen, murder of four Falkreath citizens, murder of three members of a Khajiit caravan, horse theft, burglary, robbery, and assault. At least that's what was in the missive."

She passed the paper over. Lydia took it, read it and shook her head. "By the Divines, this is serious."

"Too true."

Lydia gave the paper back and ate more of her food. "So, what's the plan?"

M'rasha finished her food. "We jump to Markarth, get some horses, ride to Falkreath, get anymore additional information and see if we can track them down from there."

"And if we don't find them?"

M'rasha shrugged, "Then we don't find them. We still get paid regardless."

"Who's going to look after Meeko?"

"Brenuin promised to come by. It's way too cold for him to be out there."

"Sounds good." Lydia wiped her mouth and grabbed her weapon, a large Orcish Battleaxe. "I'm ready to go."

M'rasha linked arms with her. "Good, now hold on and keep moving."

They reached Markarth, bought the two horses for a hefty sum and rode as fast as they could to Falkreath. It took them most of the day to get to the city. Once they were inside, they stopped by the Jarl's residence and spoke to the Altmer steward who confirmed what was on the missive and gave them more intel. It seemed that the convict, a Nord, had told his latest victims, a couple of travelers walking from Morthal, that he was looking to join the Stormcloaks and was on his way east, just a bit off the road. The women thanked the steward and headed out to ride. Unfortunately for them, a sudden snowstorm moved into the area but they pressed on.

"So, do you really think the guy is here somewhere? I don't think he'd be out in this storm," Lydia yelled over the roaring wind and the bitter cold.

"This would be the best time to move! Tracks would be covered," M'rasha called back. "Let's keep going!"

The women rode on well after the sun set, first traveling the northern path that was aside Lake Illanata. When the duo didn't find any tracks, they doubled back, this time searching through the snowy, rocky outcrops that dotted the area. The two guided the horses through some of the snowy trees when Lydia spotted a light some yards from them. She waved at M'rasha to get her attention and motioned to the light. M'rasha nodded and the two headed in that direction. As they rode closer, the lights multiplied and two became six. Soon they came across the six men, all holding flickering torches, all wearing the same thing: Stormcloak armor. After a second look, Lydia noticed that there was actually a seventh man, face obscured, but he wasn't wearing the same armor as the others.

One of the soldiers stepped into their way with an arm outstretched. "Halt."

M'rasha let out a loud sigh, begrudgingly stopped her horse and dismounted. Lydia followed suit and tether her horse at a nearby tree.

"The Stormcloaks have need of your horses," the man proclaimed. "Give them here cat and you can be on your way."

Lydia knew that they were headed for trouble once M'rasha ears went flat against her head and she snapped back, "The Stormcloaks can eat mammoth droppings for all I care. You have legs! Use them! I don't have time for this."

"And what are you in a rush for?"

"If you must know I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

"None of your business, milk-drinker. Go back and play with your sticks."

Her insult riled up the men as some of them tighten their grips on the torches or their hands started wandering towards their weapons. Lydia moved close to her. "Maybe we shouldn't go around agitating them. Remember about the job."

M'rasha hissed loudly. "I know about the job, Lydia..."

"Lydia?"

The man without armor stepped in front of the soldiers and pulled off his helmet. He was your typical Nord: very big, muscular with long dark brown hair, blue eyes and a bushy beard. He had a long scar ran across his face from forehead to chin and was dressed in what was mish-mash of armors and carrying a large sack on his back. He gave Lydia a big smile. "It's been quite some time, Lydia. You look well."

Lydia peered at the man closely and then gasped when she realized who it was. "Barrid? Barrid Stone-Cleaver? That you?"

M'rasha leaned towards Lydia and asked, "You know this man?"

"He was a Whiterun guard," she explained, "About two years before your arrival, he left to join the Stormcloaks."

M'rasha made a noise of contempt. "Had a hope that he could have some sense talked into him. But two years is a long time to be brainwashed."

"Lydia! Who is this cat and why do you let it talk down to you like that," Barrid called out. M'rasha's eyes went wide and Lydia had to grab onto her before she could get to them.

"She is the Thane of Whiterun and I am her housecarl," Lydia stated plainly. The group of men looked at each other silently for a few seconds before they erupted in boisterous laughter.

"You've got to be kidding me!?"

"That's what happens when you have the Empire in charge!"

"Only good thing a cat can do is catch mice!"

"Next you'll be telling me she's the Dragonborn!"

"She actually is," Lydia confirmed. They laughed even harder. M'rasha was not amused.

"I would explain to them that it's only an honorary title but I'm afraid the ice blocks they call brains wouldn't comprehend it," M'rasha said sighing. She turned around and started back to the horses. "Come on Lydia. We've wasted enough time."

"Hold it there cat!" M'rasha gritted her teeth and faced the group. "What is it? I don't have time to play with children."

The leader stepped closer to the pair as the snow whipped around them. "I wasn't joking around. We want your horses. Just give them to us and we'll let you get on your way."

"And if I refuse?" Lydia's hands went to her weapon. She had a very bad feeling that this was going to end in a fight.

"Oh, you really shouldn't. Hate to see that fur get messed up like those cats from the trade group." He let out a dark chuckle and M'rasha bowed her head. Lydia was confused and tried to keep her eyes on both M'rasha and the men. Was she giving up? Were they going to give up their horses?

Surely, M'rasha had a plan to get them out of this right?

The Stormcloak leader grinned, reached out and patted M'rasha on the head. "Good kitty."

He went to pet her again and let out scream, holding his now bleeding stump of an arm. Lydia watched as M'rasha pulled out her war axe and sliced through the man's arm. She drove her knee into his in the crotch and watched him fall to the knees. The other men started to move to help their leader but stopped when M'rasha aimed her weapon at the man's head. "Lydia, I think we found our murders!"

Lydia pulled out her battleaxe and stared at the group. "But I thought we were looking for one person?"

"Situations changed. Pretty sure they all had a hand in the killings one way or another. This one admitted to the caravan killings." M'rasha turned her attention back to the kneeling bleeding man. "How about you and your little group surrender? Hate to see more of you get chopped off."

The soldier was silent and just glared at her. M'rasha cocked her head to the side and said, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

She giggled for a moment before nudging his head with her axe. "Well, what's it going to be? And remember, the bounty never said we had to bring you alive."

The leader's head shot up. "So be it! For Ulfric!"

He lunged at M'rasha in a desperate attack but didn't even take one step before he was engulfed in a cone of flame. The man's screams echoed in the night as his body became a walking torch. He stumbled back to his brothers-in-arms before collapsing on the snow. Still partially on fire.

"Kill them," yelled out another as he pulled out a giant war hammer. "She killed Erestid!"

And then it was pandemonium.

Two soldiers approached the Khajiit, each carrying a warhammer, and attacked. M'rasha easily ducked and dodged the slow yet powerful swings. It was apparent that these men had very little combat training as she sidestepped one of the swings and got close enough to one of her attacker. She swung her axe, burying it into the one man's neck before wrenching it out and moving away it. The soldier clutched his bleeding wound and fell to the ground. His companion let out a strained cry and swung wildly in rage, attempting to avenge his comrades deaths. The Betmer jumped back out of his reach and darted in between. The man chased her and swung again, this time sinking his hammer into a tree. M'rasha jumped out, grabbed a hold of his head and let lightning flow from her hands into his body. The Stormcloak soldier screamed and screamed, then fell silent. M'rasha released his grip and like his companion, his smoldering body fell to the ground.

All the while Lydia watched in awe. She had forgotten how formidable and deadly M'rasha was. The Betmer looked in her direction and watched her face turn to shock. She pulled a dagger from beneath her pockets.

"Lydia! Duck!"

Lydia did as she was told and just in time. She tilt her head upwards just to see a warhammer go by where her head once was. The Nord heard her attacker let a grunt of pain as a dagger hit him in the shoulder. Lydia used the momentary distraction to sweep the man's ankle causing him to fall and then bring down her weapon on his head, killing him instantly. Lydia pulled her battleaxe out of the corpse when she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her arm and dropped her weapon. She looked down to see an arrow sticking out and immediately ducked behind some trees.

"M'rasha!"

"Yeah?" M'rasha's voice was faint. Lydia poked her head out of her hiding area and quickly ducked back as a pair of arrows whizzed by.

"We got archers! One got me in the shoulder!"

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine!"

"Don't move."

Lydia waited. Then she heard the sound of something whistling through the air and then a loud explosions and screams. Lydia looked out from her hiding spot to where she believed where the archers were shooting only to see the area engulfed in flames and two figures face down on the rocks. M'rasha came out of some trees near the blast zone and jogged over to the Nord.

"Thanks for that." She hissed as M'rasha yanked the arrow out and healed her wound.

"Don't thank me yet. The job's not done."

"But we got them all." Lydia looked around and counted the bodies. And then she winced and it was not from the wound. "You don't mean Barrid?"

M'rasha sighed and rubbed her face. "Like I said before, they all had a hand in the killing. Even him."

"You can't be sure of that," replied Lydia. There was no way that Barrid, the little boy who Lydia helped catch frogs and sneak liquor, was a murderer.

The look on M'rasha's face was unreadable as she placed her hands on the Nord's shoulders. "You are still thinking with your emotions Lydia. Go back and find the horses. Take them to Riverwood. I'll finish this up and meet you in the tavern."

With that M'rasha's conjured a spell and took off to the west leaving Lydia standing in the clearing, surrounded by corpses, snow falling even heavier than before. She started to walk to where the horses were tethered but then stopped. No, she knew Barrid, knew he was no murderer, knew if she didn't do something that M'rasha would cut him down like one.

So she ran, ran after her Thane and an old friend. Lydia stuck to the trees, not wanting to give away her position in case she found one of them. As she approached lake again, the housecarl spotted them on the road. She moved closer only to be boggled at the scene that was unfolding. M'rasha stood there, axe in one hand and a spell in the other. Barrid was a few yards away, with someone, a woman, in his arms. He held a sword up to her neck as she sobbed. The spell evaporated in the Khajiit's hand and she tossed her weapon aside. Lydia pulled out her bow and kept sneaking until she was perpendicular to the conflict and close enough to hear what was said.

"Let her go Barrid. Camilla has nothing to do with this," M'rasha stated. "You don't want anymore blood on you hands."

"That's where you're wrong, cat! She's an Imperial! She's the reason why Skyrim is in a sorry state! Who is the Empire to tell us how to live our lives," screamed Barrid.

Camilla continued to cry, "Please! Oh Zenithar, I don't want to die!"

"Shut up!"

"Barrid!" M'rasha regained his attention. "She is not the Empire! She isn't an official, she's just like you!"

"She's nothing like me!"

One of M'rasha's hands went to the back of her head and she began to pat it. To anyone else it would have been seen as a behavior tick or a sign of nervousness. But for Lydia that action was a signal.

Take the shot.

M'rasha knew that she was hiding. Lydia nocked the arrow and drew her bow.

But she didn't fire.

The desperate Nord continued to rant and rave. "This bitch is nothing like me! She fled when the fighting got worse and I stayed! I am a true son of Skyrim!"

"Barrid, don't!"

"And I will do what needs to be done." With that Barrid dragged his sword across Camilla's neck, slitting her throat and pushing her forward before running off. The woman gasped, bloody hands clutching her open wound as it stained her coat, and fell to her knees in the snow. M'rasha rushed to her side and caught her before she fell to the side. She placed her hands on the Imperial and cast a healing spell in attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Camilla. I need you took take deep breaths and cough out any blood that's gotten in your lungs. Come on," M'rasha instructed. The shopkeep looked terrified but followed the alchemist's instructions. She took a deep breath and immediately started to cough up blood onto the snow. "Lydia!"

The Nord left her hiding spot and joined the Khajiit. "What do you need?"

"Left pouch. Blue container. Right pouch. Clean Cloth."

Lydia nodded and opened the pouches on M'rasha waist and retrieved what she requested.

"Cover the cloth with the ointment and then give it here."

The Nord opened the container and soaked the cloth with the ointment before handing it to M'rasha. The Khajiit took it and focused back on the still coughing Camilla. "Listen, I'm going to put this on your neck and it's going to help heal you, okay. There will be pain and I'm sorry but there's no other choice at the moment. Do you understand?"

Camilla looked so frightened but nodded. M'rasha counted down and placed the cloth over her wound. The Imperial opened her mouth in a silent scream and the slumped over onto the Betmer. M'rasha motioned Lydia to come closer and handed her Camilla.

"Bring her to Riverwood, to the blacksmith. Alvor will know what to do. Wait there for me."

M'rasha picked up her war axe and started down the road.

"Wait," Lydia called out. "What are you going to do?"

Her Thane turned around, a scowl on her face. "I'm going to do what you refuse to."

And then M'rasha was gone, her departure hidden by the growing snowstorm. Her comment was like a suckerpunch to the gut. Lydia wanted to chase after the Khajiit, to give her reason to her apprehension but then Camilla moaned in her arms. The Nord had a more important task and so she scooped the injured Camilla into her arms and started the trek to Riverwood. The storm had become the blizzard as Lydia trudged towards civilization. Ever so often she feared that she was too late but then Camilla would let out a whimper, signifying that she still lived. Eventually, Lydia finally made it to the small town and to Alvor's place. She kicked the door repeatedly until a very angry Alvor answered.

"I'll knock your head- By the Nine!" Lydia was dragged inside and Camilla plucked from her hands once she crossed the threshold. Alvor's wife, Sigrid rushed over as Alvor placed the wounded woman on the bed. "What happened?"

Lydia joined them at her bedside. "She was attacked. My Thane told me to bring her to Riverwood, to you."

"Poor Camilla. She didn't deserve this. I hope you and M'rasha find who did this and run them through."

Camilla opened her eyes slowly and looked around until she spotted Lydia. The woman lifted her arm towards the Nord and said in the quiestest voice, "Thank...you.."

Her hands fell back to the bed and she closed her eyes. Alvor's head was at her chest, listening. "Heart seems a bit weak but she should be okay."

Lydia stood there in silence. She didn't deserve their gratitude or praise. She was the reason Camilla got injured.

She needed to make this right. The housecarl left the blacksmith's residence and moved as fast as she could back to where the fighting occurred. The horses were still tethered to the trees. She ran back to where she last saw M'rasha and Barrid, saw Camilla's blood in the snow. She took a calming breath and continued westward, down the path. The snow at that point was letting up but visibility was still low. When she reached the split in the road, Lydia was about to give up ever finding them when something big and fiery flew through the air over her head, and landed with a loud thud near the edge of the lake. The Nord blinked and slowly moved towards the now smoky mass. When Lydia was about five feet away, she noticed that burnt figure wore a singed but familiar cloak and pouch belt. Lydia rushed over and turned over the body to see that face of M'rasha contorted in pain, eyes closed. The fur on her face and hands were burned badly as were the rest of her clothes.

"M'rasha! Speak to me what happened!"

"I'll tell you what happened." Lydia looked behind her to see Barrid. The Nord was visibly injured. He had blood streaming down his face from a gash on his forehead into his beard and his left arm hung uselessly at his side. In his other hand was M'rasha's war axe. "The fury of the North is what happened."

"What did you do?"

He spat blood onto the ground as he approached the two. "I may not have any love for those magic users but sometimes they have their uses. Had a spell scroll on me and, what do you know, turned out to be very powerful. Powerful enough to take this cat out." He kicked her leg, getting a grunt from the downed Khajiit.

"Stop Barrid!"

"Why Lydia?" He looked down at her, fury in his eyes. "Why do you protect her? Can't you see what's happening? She's a Thalmor spy!"

"No, she isn't."

"She's going to go and tell her elven masters about everything. She'll tell them that you worship Talos and then they'll kill you! Just like they killed Ormi."

"Ormi's dead?" Ormi was a childhood friend along with Barrid. The last time Lydia had seen her was right before Ormi and her family moved to Markarth.

Barrid nodded. "Aye, sold out by a supposed 'friend'. A Khajiit!" He kicked M'rasha in the ribs this time, causing the woman the groan. "Told the Thalmor that she still worshiped Talos, that she had a secret amulet. The Thamor hauled her away and killed her! All because of that stupid cat!"

Another kick, another groan but this time Lydia pushed Barrid away. "Stop it Barrid! She had nothing to do with it."

"But she does! Didn't you hear me! As long as people like that cat, the Imperials, the elves, as long as non-Nords are in Skyrim, she will never be free!"

"But I am a true son of Skyrim." The grip on the axe became tighter. He drew back his arm and held overhead. "Are you a true daughter?"

He struck bringing the axe down, aiming for M'rasha's neck.

"No!"

Lydia stretched her hand out and felt the axe clang off her protected hand. Barrid regained his footing and kicked Lydia in the face, sending her back. He pulled his arm back again and brought it down once more. Lydia watched in horror but just as the axe was about to make contact, a light surrounded M'rasha and Barrid's blow bounced off her body, harmless. The Nord stumbled back. "What magics is that!?"

Before Lydia could respond, M'rasha rolled over onto her knees, breathing heavy. The housecarl attempted to help her up but M'rasha pushed her away. She faced Barrid who recovered and attempted to hit her a third time.

"Die cat! Skyrim belongs to the Nords!"

"Yor! Tool! Shul!"

M'rasha opened her mouth wide and out came a giant stream of fire that enveloped her attacker. Lydia could hear the man holler in pain as the fire raged on. Then M'rasha closed her mouth and the fire died. Barrid's charred body fell to the ground. The alchemist pushed herself to her feet, wincing and grumbling all the way. She shuffled over to where Barrid laid. Her would-be murderer was still alive, groaning. M'rasha picked up the discarded axe and smashed it against the man's head. She pulled back and hit him again with the axe. And again, and again and again. The weapon slipped from her hand as she pushed herself up again. Lydia was already on her feet, walked over to her Thane, and reached out to the injured woman. "M'rasha..."

Before it could make contact, M'rasha smacked her hand away and answered with a fist to the cheek. Lydia was sent stumbling back, holding her face in disbelief. There was a look of utter rage on the Khajiit's face as she approach. "M'rasha! What is wrong with you?"

M'rasha stopped and started to laugh. "'What's wrong with me?' Nothing. I can't tell if it was the same for you!" She motioned to the still falling snow. "Were you too busy watching the pretty snowflakes fall to actually do your job?"

"I'm sorry! I was in shock, okay?"

"Shock? Shocked to see that a mass-murdering convict and his friends would use violence?" The Khajiit scoffed, "I know Nords had a reputation of being bullheaded but not so stupid."

Lydia clenched her hands into fist. "I said I was sorry!"

"Don't sorry to me. Say sorry to Camilla. She's the one who suffered because you wanted to protect your 'friend'."

"You didn't have to kill Barrid." M'rasha walked over the corpse and picked up the smashed remains of Barrid's head and shoved it in Lydia's face. "TEN PEOPLE. He killed ten people. He slit Camilla's throat. He tried to kill you, kill me! Why do you continue to defend that murderer? Are you even thinking straight?"

"Because...he was my friend."

"Well, wake up and smell the skeever shit, HE TRIED TO KILL YOU. And who knows what would have happened if he were to return to one of the Stormcloak camps. Would've made our access to eastern Skyrim much more harder and our fight against the dragons nigh impossible."

It hit Lydia like a brick to the face. "Don't you mean your 'fight against the Stormcloaks'?"

M'rasha stopped. "Excuse me."

"Face it. We haven't gone off and fought a dragon in months but you've been off running around and doing favors for the Empire." She pointed an accusatory finger at the shorter woman. "I know about the kickbacks, I know you've been giving them information, helping them slaughter innocent families whose only crime is helping the Stormcloaks!"

A looking of confusion was on M'rasha's face. "What are you talking about? As for my adventures, they are none of your business unless I deem otherwise. Where are you getting this information from? Stormcloak's Digest?"

M'rasha couldn't help but laugh, infuriating Lydia more. "Enough of this. I need to get these heads back to Falkreath, have a long warm bath and meal and it seems we need to talk about your position."

The Thane of Whiterun walked past Lydia without a word, essentially ending their conversation but the Nord warrior was nowhere finished.

"If it were Legion, you would've given them the horses," stated Lydia.

M'rasha stopped but did not face her. "You speak out turn Lydia. I suggest you hold your tongue if you wish too keep it."

But Lydia continued, grinning as the Khajiit's patience was running out, "But it's true, isn't it. If the shoe were on the other foot."

M'rasha's ears twitched. This time she looked at the warrior and spat out, "If the shoe was on the other foot I still wouldn't give them my horse. But it truly shows how infinitesimal your ice brain is. You know nothing about the Legion and you know nothing about me. And don't ever assume the contrary."

"If Tullius were here, you would've licked his boots and kissed the ground that he walked on!"

M'rasha marched right up to her. "And if those soldiers were still alive, you'd be their pretty little on-the-road bed warmer."

Lydia saw red, her hands clenched hard. M'rasha crossed her arms over chest, looking smug and continued to taunt, "Did I strike a nerve Lydia? Looks like you want to hit me. Go ahead. I dare-"

The alchemist's head jerked violently to the side from the force of Lydia's slap. Lydia was stone-faced when M'rasha slowly turned her head back to her. She rubbed the sore spot on her cheek and sighed dramatically.

"I'm going to ignore the fact you hit me. I'm going to ignore the fact that you insulted me. I'm going to ignore the fact that as my housecarl you neglected your duties and left me to face several armed men. And against my better judgment, I'm going to give you another chance to apologize and ask for forgiveness," she said in a cold tone.

Lydia placed her head next to M'rasha and whispered, "Over my dead body, you Thalmor plaything."

She moved back with a smug grin on her face. M'rasha looked at her in shook but then nodded. "It's going to be like that I see."

The Khajiit threw her weapon to the ground. "Looks like I'm going to have to beat some sense into you."

And then M'rasha reared back and drover her head into Lydia. Because of the height distance, her head hit Lydia right in the mouth, making the woman stumbled back. Lydia tasted blood in her mouth and spat it out. She let out a battle cry and attempted to tackle the shorter woman. M'rasha moved aside and clapped the Nord on her back. And suddenly Lydia's body went stock-still and collapsed to the ground. M'rasha crouched down beside with a smile.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" She grabbed the back of Lydia's head and dragged her body to the base of the nearest tree. The spell that M'rasha used wore off but then her muscles locked up once more. M'rasha then pulled the woman's head back and smashed it into the bark of the tree. Lydia let out a pained groan as M'rasha slammed her head again and again and again against the tree. The pain Lydia felt just grew to the point where her vision was starting to blur. Finally, the Khajiit released her, her body slumping to the ground. Blood was dripping down her face, on the tree, on the snow. And then she felt herself being flipped over and M'rasha boot was on her neck, suffocating. Lydia grasped at the woman's leg with her failing strength trying to get her off but she couldn't be budged. Black spots appeared in her vision and just as everything was about to go dark, M'rasha moved her foot. Lydia sucked in a lungful of air and began to cough. Before she could get her bearings straight, M'rasha claws were in her hair and the scenery changed. They were no longer in the Falkreath wilderness but back at Breezehome.

Brenuin was on the stairs, feeding Meeko scraps when he noticed your arrival. "Oh hey lad- Mara tits! What happened?"

M'rasha slammed Lydia's head to the floor once more and then looked to Brenuin. "Heal her, throw her out, I don't care. Find me a someone that understands the meaning of loyalty!"

Meeko whined trotted up to Lydia and licked her face before the beggar could help her into a chair. Lydia groaned and cracked open one of her eyes to see M'rasha as she disappeared, a look of sadness in her eyes.

Brenuin placed his hands on the sides of Lydia face and asked her, "What in Oblivion did you do?"

Lydia hung her head.

She messed up. Messed up big.

And she didn't know how to fix it or if it could be fix.

Time would tell.

End of Act 1