Old Friends in a New City
I awoke to find that I had a blanket drawn over me. Slowly I rose to a sitting position, wincing as pain pulled at my sides. Gentle hands grabbed me and carefully dragged me backward, to place my back against the wooden cart I was sitting in. Veezara took a seat to my right. To my left sat Gabriella, a book opened in front of her. She wore a lavender colored robe and I could just see the Dark Brotherhood armor underneath.
"She alive?" a voice called, Festus.
"I told you I had made the antidote correctly," Gabriella called, not looking up from her book.
"Where are we?" I asked, holding my side.
I looked out over the countryside but was unable to place the landscape. It was cooler here, much more typical of the fall Skyrim was known for. I shivered and took the moment to look down at my injuries. I was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and simple leather pants that were too long. I lifted the shirt to see my middle bandaged and assumed my thigh was as well.
"We are not far from Windhelm. We have some business to attend to there," Veezara said. "How are you feeling?"
"Not dead," I said. Still, the pain caused from simple breathing wasn't particularly pleasant.
"You can see a healer in the city if you need. Festus is rusty but the wound is closed, mostly. You have stitches," Gabriella said.
Festus grumbled something from where he was guiding our cart that I couldn't catch.
"Your second target, Ennodius, will be to just down the road to the west when we arrive. Look for Anga's Mill. I suggest you rest up in the city before pursuing him, however," Veezara said.
My shoulders sagged as I remembered that I was still an assassin, had just murdered a man in cold blood and was going to have to do it again soon. I had hopped to put off the other contracts, but there was no point in avoiding one that was no longer out of my way.
"We're here," Festus said.
I stood, using the cart to push myself up with one arm and holding my side with the other. Gabriella jumped gracefully down from the cart before heading away from the city gates. Veezara landed silently on the ground and turned to offer me a hand, which I took. Festus began stabling his horse in some barn off from the main stables without word before he too began to walk off in the same direction as Gabriella without another word.
I looked to Veezara who was returning from helping Festus stable the horse and cart with a pack: my pack. He shouldered it as he came closer to me and handed me my weapons, which I strapped to my person. When that was done he reached into the bag, and drew the brown cloak over me.
"Gentlemanly," I said, and he smiled. "So I take it you're actually going into the city?"
"I am. I have business to attend to and will be staying in the Argonian Collective under the name Rasha when not at work. You may ask for me there if you need assistance though I cannot promise I will be there often, sister," Veezara said. "I recommend you get a room at the local tavern, Candlehearth Hall, perhaps under an assumed name yourself."
As we reached the city gates Veezara stopped and gently slid my pack onto my shoulders. It was heavier now that it contained two sets of armor and I worried if the bag would hold long. I turned to the Argonian.
"You aren't going in? I thought -"
"Argonians are prohibited from living within the city's walls. It is easier to reach my destination if I head to the docks from here, friend," Veezara said.
"What? Why?" I asked.
"The Stormcloaks are a proud Nord people that do not much care for other races, especially those that do not resemble them," he said.
I pursed my lips, thinking of my entry into Skyrim, how helpful and kind the rebels had been to me, a lost and starving foreigner. This was their stronghold, their main city, home of their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak. The civil war had taken a place in the background in my mind and I had not even thought about it upon approaching the gates. Was what Veezara saying the truth? Was this how the "true Nords" planned on re-imaging their country when free of the Empire's hold?
Veezara had turned from me but I called out to him, "Veezara." He turned slightly so that he could look at me over his shoulder. "Be careful."
He nodded to me, "You too, sister."
With that I entered the city gates. It was mid-day which would give me some time before I would need to consider tracking down Ennodius. I determined I would attempt the feat tomorrow night, taking the time while in Windhelm to find a healer and rest. The last thing I wanted was more unhealed wounds threatening to do me in.
The gates opened for me and I looked about for someone to ask directions to Candlehearth. Before I could take a few steps, however, I noticed a Dark Elf female being cornered by two large Nords.
The blonde Nord who loomed the tallest said, "You come here where you're not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks."
The elven woman replied, "We haven't chosen any side. It isn't our fight."
The other man, stouter and bald with ragged clothes pounded one fist into the palm of his other hand before addressing his fellow, "Hey maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help the war is because they're Imperial spies!"
The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Imperial spies? You can't be serious!"
There was a tiny hint of fear in her voice now as a crowd began to circle the scene, cutting off any means of escape for her.
"Maybe we teach you a lesson, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are," the blond Nord said, grabbing the front of her dress and drawing his dagger on her.
Without thinking I acted, stepping forth from the crowd. The bald man saw this and went to grab me but I easily avoided his clumsy arms, throwing a quick punch to his face as I kicked his legs out from under him. My side and leg protested but I wasted no time, using the man as a spring board to jump onto the tall man's back, my knees hugging his hips as I pressed a dagger to his throat.
"Lower your weapon, slowly," I said. The Nord obliged. "Now drop it."
He did and I climbed off his back, making sure to press the tip of my blade lightly to him in warning as I did so.
"Turn around," I ordered.
He turned as his friend slowly rose to his feet. My sword was now in my other hand, giving me distance should they try to charge me. Still the crowd around me was a variable I could not predict.
"So you elf-offspring are traitors too?" he said. "You can go live with them then. You'll regret this."
"What's going on here?" a guard barked, making his way through the crowd. I noticed he was wearing Stormcloak gear as opposed to the traditional guard armor seen about Skyrim.
"They attacked us," the bald man said.
The guard looked from the haggard looking man to the other, blond Nord. "Is this true, Rolff?"
"It is," he said.
The guard turned to me as no one in the crowd spoke in my defense. "You are charged with attacking a -"
"Halt," said another voice.
I turned to see a familiar face. The guard turned to him, "Captain?"
I turned to the man who approached me. He ignored the weapons in my hands which were now lowered at my sides as he came to stand before me. He grabbed my hood, removing it to look into my face. Instantly I recognized the blue eyes, the youthful features.
"Sir, she was protecting me. Rolff drew a dagger on me," the dark elf said.
Ralof took a step away from me and turned to the woman. "I believe you."
"What? You believe a stranger and a grey-skin above us?" the bald man said.
"Angrenor, tell me, should I take the words of a drunkard and his beggar friend above that of a Companion who happens to also be Dragonborn?" Ralof asked him.
"I – I – you – she," Angrenor said, unable to form words.
"This city needs to be an example of what our country will be when we win the war, man," Ralof said. "Get your drunken fights off my streets. You understand? I've warned you before. Both of you."
The two men scowled me as the crowd began to disperse and they followed along with them. The Dunmer woman nodded thanks to me as she too walked away, leaving me with the familiar Stormcloak.
He was in better armor than I had last seen him and seemed to be standing taller than I remembered. Ralof grinned at me when the passersby had finally stopped gawking at us and drew me into a hug, causing me to take a sharp intake of breath as I winced from pain. Quickly he released me as I moved my hand to my side, specks of blood now dotting my shirt.
"You're injured," Ralof said. "I will take you to Wuunferth and see that he heals you."
With that, the Nord nodded behind him and we began to head that way, toward a large fortress I could see through the cobbled streets.
"So, guard captain? When did that happen?" I asked.
"It's temporary," Ralof said. "I helped some of my fellow Stormcloaks escape being taken back into custody on my way back to Windhelm and was injured. He made me Guard Captain until I was fully healed and could return to duty on the front lines where I'll be given my own men. But what of you? I heard that a Breton by your named was declared Dragonborn and assumed – was I correct?"
"Yes," I said. "Though I haven't been up to much dragon slaying recently."
"Much?" he said laughing. "To be able to take down a beast like that, like the one we saw at Helgen...but you also are a Companion now too? That's what my aunt tells me."
"You ask about me often?" I asked, jokingly. I saw his pale cheeks blush and laughed. "You know, you could simply write to me yourself."
"I thought of it," Ralof said. "So, what brings you to Windhelm? Last we met you were headed to Riften."
"Actually, I was headed to Riften," I said.
"Don't tell me you still haven't made it there?" he said, playfully.
"I have though I didn't find the information I needed. I was headed back that way when I was attacked and some travelers found me and took me here to see a healer," I said.
"You should think of joining up while you are here," Ralof said. "Perhaps it is Talos who guided you here."
"Talos has an odd way of guiding if that is the case," I said. The concept of owing yet another group my allegiance was out of the question, unfathomable. We entered the Hall and Ralof showed me down a somewhat narrow passageway. "No, I cannot. I am too busy between the Companions, the dragon slaying, and helping out Honorhall Orphanage. Maybe if things begin to settle down."
"I understand," Ralof said. "Things have been hectic here, too. We have made many advancements on the war front, but tensions still run high within the city at times. On top of that we recently seem to have acquired a serial killer but the guards are spread thin and progress has been slow."
My muscles had tensed at the words "serial killer." Right now one walked beside him. On the docks another plied his trade, and not far away two more wandered. Was this slew of sudden deaths due to our Guild? Everyone said business had been slow but could I trust that?
Before I could think to ask any more questions on the matter, however, we came to the end of the hall, a dark wooden door now before us. Ralof knocked twice before entering and I followed, standing behind him. I could just see an elderly Imperial man in grey robes around Ralof's form but the rest of the room was cut off from view.
"More visitors? Fantastic," Wuunferth, the Imperial, said sarcastically. "Guard Captain, you hired this man. Would you be so inclined as to escort him out of my chambers?"
"You are to help his investigation, Wuunferth," Ralof said. "But if he is done here then I could likely be persuaded to show him out."
"Wonderful," the Imperial said, again sarcastically.
"But before I go, I did come here for a reason," the Nord in front of me said, stepping aside to let me fully enter the room. "This is an honored friend of mine, and she needs healing."
Wuunferth opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything, the man with whom he had been arguing with before we entered spoke up.
"What are you doing here?" his voice said, almost a bark.
I turned, my eyes widening as I saw Vilkas standing to Ralof's right. It appeared that the man who had been hired to investigate the assassinations was not only a fellow Companion, but exactly the last Companion I wanted to see given the circumstances.
"I ran into trouble," I said. "It's nothing."
The Nord's yellow eyes traveled down to where I was still holding my side which was lightly bleeding. His lips pursed before he looked at my face once again.
"You're far from Riften," he said.
"I got waylaid on the way here when I was attacked. Travelers heading to Windhelm helped me," I said. "I didn't intend to be here. What are you doing here?"
"I sent for him actually," Ralof said. "Not him specifically, but I asked for assistance investigating the murders I was telling you about from the Companions."
"Now that we've gotten this touching reunion out of the way, I think I need to examine the patient," Wuunferth said. "You know this isn't my job, Ralof. I'm court wizard, not some common healer."
"I'll make sure you're well compensated," Ralof said. Then to Vilkas, "If you'll follow me."
"No," he said. "I am her Shield-Brother and I want to know the extent of her injuries."
"I'm fine," I said.
"So you've said before," he deadpanned.
I rolled my eyes but said, "Fine."
"Then I will be going. If either of you need assistance I shall be patrolling near the gates," Ralof said. To me, "Make sure to stop by tonight if you're staying so that we can catch up."
I smiled at him as he closed the door leaving the three of us in the room.
"Sit," Wuunferth ordered, showing me to an uncomfortable and tall looking bench. I had to jump up to sit on it. "Show me your injuries."
"There's three, sort of," I said.
I lifted up the bottom of my shirt to show him my side. He unwrapped the bandages there before observing the wound. The blade had gone clean through, piercing skin and muscle on both sides. It was my first time seeing the injury. The skin around the wounds was shades of red, purple, blue, and black. Thick stitches has been applied in a neat manner but still the skin seemed to be ripping from them despite the handiwork, which had caused me to bleed. I wondered if the cut on my thigh was the same.
"These are unusual wounds," Wuunferth said. "You were lucky no vital organ was hit, though I suppose that was on purpose." He gestured to the skin. "This, this was caused by poison coming into contact with your skin, a pretty nasty one too. I've seen it before, painful and typically designed to be slow acting. Used for drawn out deaths or torture. You're not dead though."
"I wasn't aware," I said sarcastically, fear hitting my heart. I desperately wished that I had attempted to persuade Vilkas to leave the room.
Without warning, Wuunferth drew a scalpel over the wounds and I winched as he drew skin. He dropped it into a vile and began pouring various liquids in it. I looked up to see Vilkas staring at me silently.
"It's as I thought," the court wizard said. "There are three strains of these poisons I've seen. This one is typically used by assassins, particularly the Dark Brotherhood, though recorded instances of them using it are rare. You're lucky that whoever found you knew how to make an antidote. But the damage here is more extensive, the antidote rid most of the poison from your system, but it remains in your skin where it entered though vastly less potent. It will prevent your wound from healing, which will likely kill you before the poison itself does any significant damage to your system."
"Um, yay?" I said.
"Fix it," Vilkas said.
"Such anti-intellectualism. I don't know why I bother. I can concoct a cure that will reverse the damage to your wounds and get rid you of the poison in its entirety, not that you asked," Wuunferth said. "I can get it ready in an hour. Do you have more injuries?"
I nodded, looking to Vilkas. "Turn around."
"I'm sure whatever it is -" he began.
"I said turn around."
He glared at me but turned around as I showed Wuunferth the wound on my thigh.
"Much the same. I'll reapply your bandages before you go. I'll double the medicine and you can come back in an hour to pick it up," he said.
I nodded, covering myself once more and hopping down from the bench after Wuunferth had rebandaged my wounds. I drew my cloak back over me and went to leave the room without saying a word to Vilkas, not sure what to say to him and knowing I was not ready to speak with him after the last two days.
"Tell me what happened," Vilkas said as he came up behind me in the narrow hall.
"I told you," I said.
"No one uses a slow-acting poison to just kill someone," he said. "Whoever attacked you had plans."
I stopped, remembering the night vividly. Her piercing blue eyes staring down at me in delight as she pressed her knee into my wounded leg, one hand over my mouth as I screamed. We're just getting started.
Vilkas put a hand on my shoulder, turning me to look at him. We stood close in the narrow hall, my back against the bricks, cold in the frozen city.
"Were you tortured?" he asked, his eyes boring into mine.
"No, I..." I said, the memory of her kicking me, forcing me to turn to face her as I lie unable to move on the ground.
"Don't lie to me," he said. His words had an edge to them.
"I'm not, it was over almost as soon as it began," I said. "Like I said, some travelers came along. They stopped it. One of them saw I was poisoned, an alchemist, and she made an antidote. I'm fine."
Memories flooded my mind, memories of lying weak on the floor, pain clouding out my vision. The moment of realization when I knew I was dying, of panic. Of apologizing to the yellow eyes that held mine now.
Vilkas opened his mouth but he said nothing and closed it. I saw his the muscles in his arms tighten and untighten as he stood there, searching for words.
"Are you ok?" he asked finally.
I thought of reminding him I had just told him I was fine but when I opened my mouth I said, "No."
"Do you know what they wanted?"
"She. Some personal vendetta. She seemed to hold me responsible for the death of her husband," I said.
Vilkas didn't ask who he was or if I knew. We had both killed people: bandits, murderers, thieves, vampires. Some of these men and women were just ordinary people who went down the wrong path, they had lives and families. It wasn't something you thought about when fighting for your life or the lives of those around you but it was a truth we all knew. I knew he would assume this woman belonged to one of them, one of the likely nameless men whose death I had played a part in. It just happened the truth was more complicated than that.
"Is she dead?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "One of the travelers killed her when saving me. Another healed me as the female made an antidote. Without them I...I won't lie, I thought I was dead."
"I..." Vilkas began but stopped. "When we were trapped in the rubble at the vampire's lair, I thought you were going to die. Farkas never believed it for a minute though. I would hate to see you prove him wrong about your invulnerability."
I laughed harshly, my side hurting. I had proven more than once exactly how vulnerable I was.
"It wasn't Farkas I was worried about," I said. "It was you."
"What are you...?" he asked.
"I thought I had broken my word to you. I told you I was coming back," I said. I felt my face heat up and was glad for the dimness the hall provided.
Vilkas shut his eyes, his face unreadable to me. When he opened them again his eyes were soft.
"I'm glad you were wrong," he said, his voice a rough whisper.
He raised his hand to brush my cheek lightly which caused goosebumps to raise on my arms. I took a quiet breath in, afraid to breathe and have the moment end. Quickly though he removed it, as though a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. I released the air in my lungs quietly, feeling deflated.