It has been way, WAY too long. My apologies on the delay of this chapter. I had a hard time figuring out what the hell I wanted to have happen and it ended up mostly being dialogue. I try my best to keep characters consistent, so the more dialogue the more I agonize over it. Also, I am posting this after not being able to sleep properly for quite some time, so I am VERY sorry if I missed major mistakes in my proof reading. Anywho, sorry again for the long wait. Thank you soooo much to those who have reviewed, followed, and/or added this story to your favorites. Seriously, THANK YOU! If you are too anxious to leave a review (100% me) feel free to PM me. Stay safe with all the craziness happening in world right now!

Note: I do not own Skyrim or its characters. I have only thought up my own OCs for this story. This is rated M for a reason and will have mature themes. I will try to remember to put a warning before every chapter but if one is missing or you think something should be added please let me know. Also, here is a small guide to help with my writing style.

Italicized with no quotes is the character's thoughts

"No italics with quotes," is the characters speaking the common tongue.

"Italicized with quotes," is the character speaking another language, most likely falmer.

In this chapter in particular, I have one sentence Ysrae says in Falmer in a different and smaller font. I chose to do this so you didn't have to read the same thing twice. Edit: welp, turns out I can't do this, but it was a good thought. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hope that helps.

WARNINGS:language and dead bodies.

Ysrae's head feels fuzzy. She squeezes her eyes tight. She feels like she could sleep for an eternity. She slowly opens her eyes and tries to blink away black spots interfering with her sight. Ysrae is finally able to focus her eyes. She's greeted with the sight of stars sparkling in the obsidian sky. She stares at the night sky's beauty, a slight smile on her face. Ysrae hears soft voices, making the smile disappear. Ysrae slowly turns her head towards the voices.

There are two men. One sitting on a log, the other a rock next to a small fire a few meters away from her. Ysrae is relieved when she recognizes Scouts-Many-Marshes' face in the warm light. She has no idea who the huge man talking to him is. Ysrae silently sits up, causing furs she didn't notice around her to pool at her waist. The cool air feels refreshing on her pale skin. Pain throbs through her temple. Ysrae grabs her head, gripping her black hair.

What on Nirn happened? The last thing Ysrae can remember is barricading herself in the little alcove by the stream. She glances at Scouts-Many-Marshes and his companion. Maybe they can help her fill in the blanks. Ysrae waits for the throbbing in her head to subside. Once it's gone, she takes a moment to look back up at the sky. She will never again take the splendor of the night sky for granted.

Nothing like being forced underground to make you appreciate the stars. She sighs softly and quietly stands. She glances back at the sky and whispers a soft prayer to Auri-El. Ysrae takes a deep breath and approaches the men.

"Uh," she starts, unsure of what to say.

Their heads whip around to stare at her. Scouts' eyes are wide and the other man, an Orisimer Ysrae realizes, looks like he just had the shock of his life. Ysrae can't help but stare back at him. He has such striking blue eyes that contrast his darker green skin. Ysrae feels her face flush, realizing she has staring for way too long.

She thrusts her hand out to him, "I am Ysrae."

"Er…" He stands and shakes her hand in a tight grip, "Mol."

Ysrae nods and releases his hand. She turns to Scouts and holds out her hand. He moves to grab her hand, but Ysrae grabs his forearm and pulls him into a one-armed hug.

"Thank you," she whispers.

He hugs her back, "I'm sorry I didn't get you out sooner." He pulls away from her, a look of sorrow in his eyes, "Mol helped me get you out of there. If it wasn't for him, you would have woken up in the cave instead of out here."

Ysrae looks back at Mol, who appears to be frozen. Ysrae smiles at him and his face flushes.

Her smile turns mischievous, "Not used to being around women?"

Mol splutters something and she hears Scouts hide his laugh with a cough.

Ysrae laughs, "Sorry, sorry." She lightly hits Mol's chest with the back of her hand, "I should not have teased you, but your face reminded of a close friend when we started training together." Ysrae looks down and smiles softly at the memory, "Every time I spoke to him his face would turn red and he would only mumble a response." Ysrae's eyes start to water. She sniffles and wipes her eyes, "I miss Athkir."

Ysrae sighs heavily and plops down onto the ground. She hugs her knees and stares into the fire. Her heart feels so heavy. She buries her face in her arms; her long, onyx hair curtains around her face. Ysrae lets the tears fall. Other than the occasional sniffle and sharp intake of breath, she manages to stay mostly silent. She lets her months of pent up emotion out. She mourns for herself, her annihilated clan, and most of all, for the survivors whose fates are unknown. Her shoulders are shaking now. Ysrae grits her teeth. It will be ok. It will be ok.

One of the guys sits next to her. He gently puts a hand on her shoulder, saying nothing. Ysrae appreciates the silent support. She leans into his side and his arm moves around her. Her body relaxes into him and her tears lessen. He lets her silently cry into his side for who knows how long.

Ysrae finally sits up and wipes her tears away with her hands. Through her blurry vision, she sees Mol next to her. He is watching the fire, as if a grown mer is not falling apart against him.

He notices Ysrae watching him and gives her a small smile, "Feel a little better now?"

Ysrae nods, leaning her head against his shoulder, "Is it ok if we sit like this for a while?"

He grunts in response and looks back into the fire. Ysrae guesses that means it's ok. She tries to watch the fire, but her mind keeps wandering to a dark place. Instead, she shifts her gaze to Mol's face without moving her head. He has a strong jawline and, like most mer, he has high, more prominent cheekbones. The bridge of his wide nose has a slight bump on it, making Ysrae think he may have fractured or broken it at some point. Ysrae runs her finger along her nose, grateful she was able to properly heal it so no one would know it was ever broken.

Her eyes wander to his slightly darker green lips and the long….tusks protruding from his mouth. Some of her clanmates had told Ysrae of the Orsimers' green skin and tusks, but she doesn't think they are as strange as her clanmates made them out to be. It makes them unique. Ysrae looks to the stars, idly wondering if the 'tusks' are tougher than the rest of his teeth.

Ysrae lets out a sigh. Her heart still feels heavy…it's going to be awhile before she feels ok. She closes her eyes and takes deep, slow breaths.

"Well," Ysrae stands and brushes herself off, "I feel like I could sleep until…" she pauses. "What month and year is it?"

"Uh…" Mol glances at Scouts.

Ysrae crosses her arms, "I know I was captive for a long time. Just tell me."

Mol looks away, staying silent.

"It's-It's Rain's Hand, the two hundredth year of the fourth era," Scouts whispers.

Ysrae is so relieved she was only held captive for six months rather than more than a year. She whispers, "I see." She turns from them and walks to the bedroll she woke up in. "Night," she calls to them, wrapping herself in the furs. She quickly falls into a peaceful sleep.

….

Ysrae wakes with the rising sun. She sits on the log near the long dead fire and watches the sunrise. The soft pinks and purples slowly change to vibrant orange and pink. She sighs and stands, looking to where Scouts and Mol are lying under some trees. Mol is propped up against a tree trunk, softly snoring. Ysrae snorts in laughter. He must have been keeping watch, but succumbed to sleep. Scouts is lying nearby, his back to Ysrae. Based on his slow, heavy breaths, he is still asleep as well.

Ysrae looks around at her surroundings. Their small camp is next to a wall of rock. There are thick trees around their little clearing, keeping them hidden. They picked a good spot. She doesn't recognize anything, but she doesn't know how far from the cave they are. Plus, it was six months ago she was taken and it was dark.

Ysrae crosses her arms and hums. She wants to go back into the cave to retrieve her amulet and other effects she arrived with, but she does not want to wake her companions. Should I just go look? She shakes her head at herself. No. It may worry them if they wake up while I am gone.

Ysrae resigns herself to doing nothing and lies on the log to watch the sky. Ysrae's mind wanders to the last day she spent in captivity. She frowns and closes her eyes. She still cannot recall what exactly happened. She curses under her breath. Why in Oblivian can I not remember?

Ysrae takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, opening her eyes. Getting angry at herself won't help her remember. Instead, she allows her mind to wander to happier times. Her father teaching Yrhis and her how to use magic, the pride Father expressed when Ysrae showed natural talent with a bow….Ysrae sighs. She will always treasure her memories, but at present, they make her heart ache.

Ysrae sits up and straddles the log. Her stomach grumbles loudly. For the first time since Ysrae has been out of the cave, she realizes she is starving.

"As you should be," she mumbles to herself. You have not eaten for Auri-El knows how long. Great 'plan' you had; blockading yourself without any provisions. "Gods damnit," she growls, shoving her palm over her eye. Maybe if she puts enough pressure on her head, it will make the self-deprecating thoughts go away.

"You ok there?" a gravelly voice inquires.

Ysrae jumps, and lowers her hand. She was so caught up in her thoughts she did not hear Scouts approach.

She swallows hard and nods, "Just…ah….having a disagreement with myself, I suppose."

Scouts sighs and nods, "I know the feeling." He sits next to her and holds his hand out, "I figured you would be hungry."

Ysrae glances down and sees he has a small wedge of cheese and hunk of bread in his hand.

"It's not much, but I thought it would be better than nothing."

Ysrae gently takes the food from him, "Thank you."

Normally Ysrae would ask if he had anything for himself, but she is so hungry she tucks into the meal instead. She examines him as she slowly eats. She had thought the feathers on his head were black, but seeing him properly in the sunlight for the first time, she sees they are an iridescent dark blue. They are quite beautiful. Her eyes follow his curved, ivory horns. She wonders if they have much feeling in them, or if they are like nails; no feeling in the actual nail, but feeling where they are attached.

"There something interesting on my head?" Scouts-Many-Marshes is side eyeing her, a smirk on his face.

Ysrae can feel her face heat up, "Sorry. I do not think I ever told you this, but you are the first Argonian I have ever met. Or seen, for that matter. I have always been curious about the other races in Tamriel. Too curious according to the elders," Ysrae rolls her eyes.

Scouts chuckles, "Let me guess, they wouldn't let you anywhere near a town or main road?"

She nods and smiles, "Exactly right. I never dared go against them. If I was ever caught, they never would have let me leave to hunt or scout again. So I obeyed, no matter how much I wanted to visit the nearby Orsimer tribe."

"You must have a lot of self-control."

Ysrae shrugs, "When you are one of the last of your kind, you have to have some restraint." Ysrae sighs. Smooth. Way to go dark. "Anyways, I am not so great at self-control in certain aspects."

"Hhm. Care to give an example?" Scouts shifts so he's facing Ysrae more directly.

Ysrae can't help a smirk slipping out, "Not really. Some things are better learned through experience."

Scouts snorts and smiles, "Ain't it the truth?"

Ysrae stares at him, confused. "Umm, I think it is."

Realization crosses his face. "Sorry. It's something you can say when you agree with someone." He gives her a toothy grin, "You know the common tongue so well I forget you may not know some sayings and things like that."

Ysrae giggles, "I will take that as a compliment."

"It is," Scouts agrees. He frowns. "But-" he pauses.

Ysrae arches a dark brow in question.

Scouts swallows hard, unsure if he wants the answer. "How uh…how do you not accidently switch back and forth from the common tongue and Falmer?"

"I had help with that," she scoffs. "After being punished over a month for mistakes, I got good at keeping them separate."

Scouts-Many-Marshes nods, looking down at his hands.

"Hey," Ysrae grabs his hand, "do not dwell on it. As my father used to say 'Living in the past brings pain'."

It is Scouts turn to look confused.

Ysrae's eyes soften, "It means, living in the past brings pain. My father used to tell me and my brother this every day. So I live for now. I am not going to forget the past, but I am not going to let it define or break me."

"A lot has changed for you…," Scout murmurs.

"And I will survive," Ysrae says before he can continue the thought. "I am from a long line of fighters and survivors." She lightly punches his arm, "Cheer up horned one."

He takes a deep breath and nods. "What did you call me?"

A playful grin overtakes Ysrae's face, "Maybe I will tell you some day." Ysrae stands and stretches, "All you need to know is that it is not unkind and I think it is a good…" Ysrae's nose wrinkles. "I cannot think of the proper name."

"Description?" Scouts guesses.

Ysrae shakes her head, "No. You know, a….an alternate name friends call you."

"A nickname?"

"Yes!" Ysrae groans, "How could I not think of nickname?"

Scouts chuckles, "You are fine. You know the common tongue better than some Nords."

"I agree," Mol rumbles.

Ysrae glances over at the Orsimer, who is dusting himself off.

He joins Scouts and Ysrae at the log, "How long have the two of you been up?"

Scouts-Many-Marshes shrugs.

"I have been up since sunrise," Ysrae offers.

"Gods, that early?" Mol grumbles, stretching.

Ysrae shrugs, "I have slept a lot recently. Anyway, which way back to the hideout?"

Scouts and Mol both stare at her.

"You are joking, right?" Scouts-Many-Marshes questions.

Ysrae shakes her head. "I need to get my amulet back, as well as my armor and weapons. They are irreplaceable."

Mol crosses his arms and nods, "Let us help you look. Should make it go faster."

Scouts nods, "Plus, you can use us as support if you need to."

Ysrae swallows down a lump in her throat, touched by the kindness of these two men. She forces a small, "To the cave, then."

…

The hideout reeks of death. The sickly-sweet smell disturbs Ysrae, who is holding her thin tunic over her nose. Scouts-Many-Marshes is walking beside her, his nose wrinkled in disgust. Mol has fallen behind, searching the bodies. As he put it, 'waste not want not.'

"Any idea where your effects are?"

"I think it is all in his room," Ysrae says, her voice muffled by her hand.

They swiftly make their way to the deceased leader's private room. Ysrae lets her shirt fall from her face, digging into the small dresser next to the bed. The top drawer has nothing useful. Ysrae growls and moves on to the bottom drawer. It contains six coin purses of varying sizes. Ysrae takes a deep breath and looks into the largest one. It contains an assortment of amulets. She sorts through them, hoping to see her shining, gold sun. A familiar shape falls into her palm. Ysrae pulls her hand out and sees her amulet. It needs to be polished, but it is undamaged. Ysrae smiles.

"Find it?"

Ysrae nods and slips the amulet over her head, "Just my armor and swords now."

"What about your bow?" Scouts questions.

"It should still be in the fighting pit. Or on that bastard's back."

Scouts nods, "Lets split up then. Would you rather stay in here and look for your things or go out there for your bow?"

"I will get my bow." Ysrae huffs, "Maybe going down there will help me remember what happened."

Scouts freezes. "You do not remember?"

Ysrae shakes her head, "Do you know what happened?"

Scouts sighs, "Not exactly. But I think we should talk about it once we are out of here. Plus, Mol may have a better theory than me."

Ysrae nods. Scouts resumes looking through a dresser. Ysrae leaves and makes her way to the cages above the fighting pit. She pauses when she sees all the bodies. Regret fills her heart, but only for a moment. It is quickly replaced with rage. Why should I feel bad when they destroyed my family and home?

Ysrae grits her teeth and makes her way through them. Near the center of the bodies, she sees a familiar shining, white blade. Ysrae smiles and rushes to it. She grabs it and carefully examines it. The blade looks undamaged, if not a bit dull. The deep maroon hilt with thin, white swirls throughout, is undamaged. The golden pommel is slightly scuffed, but still looks good. Ysrae whispers a thanks to Auri-El that her sword unharmed.

She eagerly looks down, looking for her sword's mate. Ysrae spots a gold pommel with a sun engraved in it…underneath a large body.

"Fuck." Ysrae carefully tugs on her sword. It doesn't budge. "Gods damnit," she hisses.

She puts her sword off the to the side and moves to the head of the corpse. She takes a deep breath and crouches down. She shoves her hands under the shoulders and lifts. She strains from the weight. Her muscles are screaming. She manages to almost get the body sitting up, when her muscles give out. Ysrae falls on her butt. She glares at the body and kicks it. It just had to be on her sword.

"You ok there?" Mol's deep voice rumbles behind her.

Ysrae glances back, "I did not realize I had become so weak."

Mol stands behind her, "Well, he is rather big. And, no offense, but you are pretty skinny."

Ysrae ponders this. She knew she wasn't as strong as she was before she came here, but why does she feel so much weaker now? She slowly looks to where the stream and overhanging rock is.

"My barricade failed," she whispers.

"What?" Mol crouches next to her.

Ysrae points, "I barricaded myself in there after Scouts-Many-Marshes left. My strength eventually gave out and my barricade failed." She looks up at him, "How long did it take for the two of you to come get me?"

"Uurr," Mol pauses, "I think Scouts mentioned he was gone for a week or so."

"And ah…where was I when you got here?"

Mol waves his hand, "Right around here."

Ysrae opens her mouth, but Mol puts up a hand to silence her.

"There are some things you need to know, but this isn't the time. We'll tell you once we're outta here."

Ysrae nods, "You are right. So," she stands, "want to help me move this body?"

Mol chuckles, "Sure."

Mol picks up the dead man, seemingly with little effort. Ysrae shakes her head at how easy he made it look. She grabs her sword and Mol drops him. She grabs the sword she left off to the side.

Scouts emerges from the tunnel that leads to the private bedroom. "Found your armor!" he calls out.

"Thank you," Ysrae calls back.

He approaches her and Mol, "Any luck with the bow."

Ysrae shakes her head, "I have not gotten down there yet. But," she holds up her swords, "I found these."

Scouts smiles and nods, "I am glad."

"Speaking of," Mol cuts in, "may I look at your swords? I have never seen Ancient Falmer weapons."

"Hm," she smiles, "I do not know if I would call it ancient, but yes." She holds the hilt out to him.

"Uh, sorry," his face flushes. He grabs the sword, "That's what most people call the Falmer of old, since the current Falmer are…." he trails off, his face falling.

Ysrae looks at the ground, her voice soft, "We call them The Betrayed. I think soon after we started calling ourselves Snow Elves." She blinked rapidly and looked back up. "I have never seen any of The Betrayed before. No one in my clan had. All we had was stories. How…twisted our kind have become." Ysrae shakes her head. "I am going to find my bow." Ysrae turns, her second sword held loosely in her hand. She walks towards the fighting pit. "Once we are out of here, you can look at my armor as well," she calls back.

Ysrae makes her way down into the fighting pit. She almost immediately spots her predominantly white bow lying on the dark earth. She places her sword on the ground and gently picks up her bow. She inspects it. It's snow-white with a dark maroon inlay in an intricate pattern. It still looks perfect. She exhales and smiles, happy to have a piece of herself back. Time to get out of this Gods forsaken place.