Chapter 21

Fear and Blackmail

Rona left the homestead around noon, bringing Karnwyr along with her to let him stretch his legs and do his business outside. She declined Lydia's offer to join her as she still didn't fully trust the woman, remembering everything Bishop pointed out about her story.

She first made a quick trip down to the stables to collect their bed rolls for washing and the dragon bones from their saddlebags. When she pulled the beds out though, she gave up completely on the idea of washing them and tossed them out instead.

She returned to the city and purchased two new bed rolls and had them sent down to the stables for packing. After asking the shopkeeper about the location of the Skyforge she travelled up to the Mead Hall, Jorrvaskr. It was aremarkably longbuilding; one she'd hardly noticed before. She was fascinated by the unique roofing,noting thatit was made from an overturned ship.

She really wanted to go inside to meet the Companions, to know the people her mother had preferred to spend so much of her time with over her own daughter. A thousand questions bound through her mind, but first she set off on her mission to haveswords of dragon bone forged.

At the top of the stairs on the landing overlooking Jorrvaskr was the biggest forge Rona had ever seen. An enormous bird, carved into the stone overlooked it, while hot lava flowed from its talons and smoke rose from its fiery eyes and beak. She ambled around the landing, watching as a rugged older man with long gray hair and a grey beard worked hard on a sword, casting it in the fire and molding the steel with a mallet expertly. He was so focused on his work that he didn't see her standing off to the side admiring his display of finished weapons and armor.

When he finished molding the metal to his liking, he dipped it into the cool water nearby and wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm, turning slightly and noticing her watching him intently. He stared at her and whispered, "Claudia? Ysmr's beard, I've been working too hard..." He shook his head, trying to shake the vision of the young woman before him and when she didn't disappear he demanded sharply, "Who are you!? What do you want!?"

She jumped, startled and nearly dropped the dragon bones from her arms. She said, "Ah - I was hoping you could take an order to forge me some swords."

He furrowed his thick brows at her, "Who are you?"

"My name is Rona Lightfoot, sir."

"Rona?" He laughed, smiling suddenly, "Little Rona?"

She resented the little part, frowning slightly as she said, "Uhh, yes?"

He set his materials aside and approached her, "Well I'll be. Can't believe how much you've grown child! Though I see it's not much more than your mother!" He threw his hands on his hips and gave a deep chortle. She gave a small awkward laugh in reply, amused to see this man she didn't even know was so happy to see her.

Rona said, "I'm sorry, but what's your name?"

"Ah right, I s'pose you wouldn't know me since you were just a pup when you left Skyrim. My name is Eorland Gray-Mane, as you can see I work the Skyforge, "he looked down at the bones in her arms,"What have you got there?"

"I was hoping you might be able to make me a pair of swords from these," she said holding one of the bones out to him.

He took it and rolled it over in his hands, "Gods woman, so it is true. Thought Aela was pulling my leg when she said old Claudia's girl was Dragonborn. This is some mighty tough stuff, but I'll see what I can do with it."

She passed him the other piece and he set it aside. She asked, "How much for the swords?"

He waved a hand at her, "Oh no, I can't take your gold for this. To make swords out of real dragon bone and for the Dragonborn herself? No, it is my honor to take on this task."

She smiled, "I appreciate it, though I'll gladly pay, I have more gold now than I know what to do with these days."

Eorland relented, "Alright, alright. I can't reject your money if you insist on it. Fralia would have my hide if she ever found out. A thousand gold for each sword will suffice, though let's see if I can work the material first."

"Can you make one other item," she asked, "if you have material left over, would you mind forging a dagger for me?"

"Hmm, I think I might be able to do that. This claw would make a fine dagger, certainly," he held the piece up in a hand, examining it.

"How long do you think before they're ready?"

"Don't know, never forged anything from bone before. I'll have to go digging around for my book on bonemold - maybe pay a visit to an old friend out on Raven Rock and get his advice. My best guess is that it'll be about one month, maybetwo if I have to make the trip to Solstheim."

Her heart sank, "Two months?"

"Sorry to disappoint, miss. Molding bone is an art in itself, one that I'm not accustomed to."

"I see. I understand," she sighed looking back over at the sounds coming from the yard outside Jorrvaskr. She caught sight of one of the Companions she met before practicing his swordplay on a training dummy while an older balding fellow looked on from the porch. A woman's voice called from the Mead Hall, "Farkas! Skjor! You've got to see this! Njada and Athis are going at it!"

"Again?" Farkas called from the yard.

"Just let them fight it out Aela," Skjor grumbled.

She laughed boisterously, "Oh I intend to! You want to place bets? I've got my money on Njada!"

They disappeared into the Mead Hall. Rona was brought back to a time when her own friends would fight it out in the middle of their great halls at the Fighter's Guild.

It was usually Roxlin, a tough young breton woman, with short blonde pixie hair and sharp eyes, always picking fist fights with the others, trying to prove her strength.

She was only a year older than Rona and slightly taller. Roxlin was her first good friend in the Guild. She showed her the ropes and was elated to meet someone shorter than her for a change. She always did have a habit of playfully punching people in the arm a little too hard though.

Lorrie was the bosmer mage that suggested she run off to join the Fighter's Guild years ago. Her twin brother Linel preferred the sword to endless books and magic training and was Rona's in, into the Guild. He and Lorrie were practically inseparable, with Lorrie often hiding out at the Fighter's Guild to escape her instructors and the endless work and expectations that came with being a mage.

Magrob was an enormous hulking orc, but he had the kindest heart. He trained war dogs in his free time and had a fascination with the Dawnguard. He even managed to fashion together his own crossbow and the bolts for it which Rona thought was amazing, though he told her orcs often trained in the art of the forge from childhood.

Then there was Marco, a somewhat snooty Imperial man with thick black hair that he always slicked back from his face, caring a little too much about personal appearances when he'd just be covered in blood, sweat and dirt later. He came from noble blood and only joined the Guild after failing to get into the Imperial Legion. His father made him join, saying he needed a real man's training before he could try for the Legion again. Rona always thought he'd rather be off singing songs and courting noblewomen. They often sang together and he taught her how to play the flute.

The oldest of them and the woman they looked up to and aspired to be like was Charisa, a Redguard woman. She was the most responsible of them all and took her job quite seriously. She was often left in charge of doling out tasks to them and leading them on larger campaigns. Charisa taught Rona to use a bow and whipped her into shape. It was grueling work but worth it. She really missed them and hadn't realized just how much until Eorland looked over at her and asked, "You alright pup?"

She snapped out of her reverie and feeling a coldness on her cheek wiped at it. She'd started crying thinking of her home and her friends. She swallowed and said, "Yes, sorry, just lost myself for a minute there."

"Ay...this place must bring back memories for you. Aela told me what happened to your mother, you have my condolences."

She scratched the side of her head and mumbled, "Right, because my mother was a Companion..."

"You ought to go down and visit with them. I'm sure Kodlak wouldn't mind meeting the daughter of his best warrior."

Rona nodded and walked away quickly, Karnwyr got up from his spot on the ledge and trailed at her heels into the Mead Hall. The moment she walked in she saw fists flying in front of her and ducked down at just the right time avoiding a dunmer punching forward, precariously aiming for a nord woman nearby.

"Hey!" Aela called from the sidelines, "Watch it you two! You almost hit a meal ticket!"

The nord woman was evading each punch deftly when she smirked and said, "Yeah Athis, watch it before you punch our gold right back out the door, idiot."

"You watch your mouth Njada! I swear, I'm going to make you wish you hadn't crawled out of bed this morning you bi-!"

The woman took a quick shot to his face, cracking him in the jaw. He went down hard, and after a minute pushed himself up slightly to rub his chin, "Damn woman, I think you broke my jaw."

Aela came rushing over to Rona and said, "Sorry about that - Oh! If it isn't Claudia's girl. What brings you to Jorrvaskr?"

"Just thought I'd stop in. I'm having some swords made up at the Skyforge and, well, I wanted to meet everyone," she shrugged sheepishly.

There were quite a few strong looking warriors standing around, most of them nords. Aela called her friend over, "Skjor, c'mere! You remember little Rona, right?"

The tall, balding nord man with only one good eye gave her a quick once over before putting a hand out to shake, "Been a long time. Nice to meet you,young lady, I was good friends with your mother before she left us. So, Aela tells us you're the Dragonborn."

Rona nodded, "That's right. How did you find out?" She turned asking Aela.

"Are you kidding?" Aela beamed at her, "We heard all about that dragon you killed outside Whiterun and then again about the one at Bonestrewn Crest - I'll tell you one thing, with accomplishments like that word spreads fast!" She laughed loudly, hands to her hips, "I still can't believe Claudia's girl is the Dragonborn, I always did say that woman had a little fire in her. Guess I was right!"

The other Companions all looked on curiously at her, many clearly in disbelief at her power, tiny as she was.

Aela pulled on her hand, "Come on, you should meet Kodlak."

The beams of light peaking through the cracks in the ceiling were too much to try and sleep through anymore. Bishop threw the blanket off himself, nearly knocking over his emptied plate and glass on the side table.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed. The food and water had helped curb his hangover a little but not completely. He decided to chase it off with some more mead instead. Throwing his clothes on and grabbing his dagger, he went downstairs and rummaged through the cupboards looking for a bottle of Honningbrew. He glanced over at the woman sitting idly by the hearth fire while she chewed on a piece of bread.

"You're still here?" he growled.

Lydia looked over at him, "It seems my Thane has decided against dismissing me, so until she does I am obligated to stay and carry out my duties."

Bishop grunted, rolling his eyes as he crouched down, tossing pots and pans from the cupboards searching for liquor of any kind, he'd even stomach an old ale just to take the edge off. "Right, honor and service and all that crap. Do you even have a mind of your own?"

She chuckled and shook her head, "Of course you wouldn't understand. I know your kind, brigand. You know nothing about decency or loyalty."

He stood up, growing more and more agitated at the lack of alcohol and the persistent headache pounding in his head. Her offensive remark only set him off more. He leaned over the counter sneering, "Well you're a right bitch aren't you? You don't know a thing about me, darling,but I'll be sure to let the Dragonborn know all about your nasty little attitude. Persuade her real quick to boot you out on your ass so you can go off and bother some other fool with your uselessness."

Lydia took a bite of her bread and grabbed a bottle of mead from the floor by her feet to sip on. Bishop's eye twitched, annoyed at the sight of it, he thought about walking right by and snatching it from the arrogant woman.

She said slowly, "I think it'd be in the best interest of everyone if you persuaded the Dragonborn to join the Imperials instead."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "And why the fuck would I ever do that?"

She continued chewing her bread piece and drinking her mead, a wry smirk pulling at her lips. Bishop's pulse quickened slightly, something was off completely off about this woman. He thumbed his dagger and eyed her warily before slowly speaking, "Who the hell are you?"

She looked over at him, a strange, unnatural smirk curling at her lips.

He took a chance and said, "I knew you were full of shit. I could smell it a mile away."

Her dark lips parted, "Well aren't you a sharp one? I wasn't lying when I said I was from Cyrodiil or that I was a member of the Legion, though I was never discharged."

"You're still working for them," he scowled, crossing his arms, "So you're trying to convince her to join up the same way Balgruuf is trying to keep her around as Whiterun's little protector? With manipulation and lies?"

"Balgruuf got desperate," she said turning away from him, "General Tulius has been putting the pressure on him a bit too hard and he got hasty. He's not very good at this game. We, however, are."

He scowled, crossing his arms, he couldn't quite place it, but everything about her seemed wrong. Her movements were abnormal and her voice didn't seem to belong to her either, he spoke slowly, "What do you mean, we?"

She grinned and laughed arrogantly, "We are those who have a vested interest in bringing peace back to Skyrim."

Bishop's gut instincts were telling him that this person was extremely dangerous, they were also wondering if this person was even human considering how she moved and spoke. He studied her carefully, his dagger in hand. It would be so easy to slit this woman's throat, right then and there. He could explain it to Rona later, right now though he had to do what he could to protect her. He moved around the counter approaching the nord woman as non-threatening as possible, keeping the conversation going, "You honestly think you'd have any kind of sway over her? She's growing wise to those kinds of tricks."

"Going to gut me with that old hunting knife of yours?" she said, "The same way you gut your father?"

He went cold, stopping in his tracks. She cocked her head at him, mocking him, "What are you waiting for Thrice-Banished?"

Bishop rushed at her furiously drawing his blade to her throat and snarled, "THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW!?"

"We know everything about you," she said coolly, "We have eyes everywhere and we've been watching the Dragonborn's progress, following her closely. Naturally that means we've followed you too. We were surprised to see that a Thrice-Banished had returned to Skyrim. It was difficult digging that dirt up on you...fortunately there are those of us old enough to remember your family all too well," she smiled wickedly as she hissed, "You're the spitting image of your father you know."

His blood was boiling. The urge to silence this woman's incessant blathering was overwhelming. But he needed to know everything first. "So you think you can hold my family's history over my head to control me? I've already told her about them. She knows and she doesn't care."

"Does she know about Thorn too?"

He backed up, pulling the blade from her throat and leaving a small cut which did not bleed. He fell into the other chair across from her, gripping the hilt of his dagger in one hand and the arm of the chair in the other. His eyes flickered furiously in the firelight.

Lydia traced the cut on her neck with a finger and met his eyes, "It took a lot of work following that trail. You don't cover your tracks as well as you might think though and people are quick to talk with enough gold in hand or a knife to their throats. The trail lead us all the way to Falkreath," she laughed, "My, what a vile man he is."

Bishop thought the same of her and was almost sorry that Thorn hadn't had his way with her when he had the chance.

She gleaned what he was thinking and said, "We're not fools. We met with him under armed guard and he was all too eager to share the most unpleasant stories about you. Kidnapping...torture...rape and murder? Tsk, tsk."

"I never touched those women," Bishop spat.

She cocked an eyebrow and said, "Well you didn't exactly help them either, now did you?"

His mouth twisted as he scowled into the fire, a feeling of utter shame and disgust washing over him.

Lydia sighed, waving a hand haughtily, "It's fine, I get it. Times were tough and you didn't want to make waves seeing as you were the new recruit. Still, you probably don't want your dear, sweet, Ladyship to know these things now do you?"

He turned his eyes to her, steadying his breathing, "What do you want from me?"

She traced her upper lip with her tongue, smiling inhumanly, "All we ask is that you carefully guide the Dragonborndown the path of joining the Imperials. She's already more inclined to join them especially considering thatUlfric has that nasty little habit of hating the elves... Now I know what you're thinking, 'But the Imperials tried to kill her!' Well no worries," she waved a dismissive hand,"the issue of her near beheading has already been assuaged. General Tullius is prepared to speak with her personally on the matter whenever she arrives in Solitude."

He grit and ground his teeth together, "Why do you need her?"

Lydia scoffed, "Are you serious? A power like that? The power to shout down an army of men in a single go? This war would be over faster than the blink of an eye with her leading the Legion."

Bishop chewed on his lip, thinking hard until one of his least favorite thoughts rolled off his tongue, "And what will you do if I tell her everything? I tell her about my family and about Thorn? You'd have no sway over me anymore."

Her pupils twisted into thin slits and her voice echoed with malevolence,"You would thoroughly regret it."

The hair on his neck stood on end. What the fuck is this woman? He eyed her anxiously.

She leaned her elbows on the chair, crossing a leg and pressing the tips of her fingers together. Her voice dripped with an arrogance rarely heard from a nord, "You see, we can protect her in ways that you cannot. Thorn was already planning to take the girl. Said he's been smitten with her since their eyes met at Helgen. He wants to make her his own."

Bishop felt a wave of nausea building in his stomach. Thorn would take her? He'd lay his hands on her? He paled at the thought.

"Obviously we can't have that. So we've already paid the man a hefty fee to keep his hands off of her." Her voice deepened with malice and she spoke very slowly, "However, if you fail us, if you try to tell her any of this or make a run for it, we will find you and we will make you suffer as you have never suffered before."

Bishop could feel his rage bubbling now, spilling over at the utter shit this woman was spewing. He rose from his seat, dagger in one hand the other balled into a fist, his entire body trembling, "YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT SUFFERING! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO TO ME THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN DONE!?"

The woman, no, the demon, gave him a cold and calculating look as she hissed, "It is not what we will do to you, but what we will do to her."

He lunged at the woman, burying his dagger into her chest where her heart should have been. She didn't flinch. His body shuddered, his fear escaping him as she slowly met his eyes. He reeled back, nearly stepping into the hearth. His dagger was left, impaled in her chest. She glanced down at it and said, "Hpmh. No matter. This body was starting to lose its rigor."

"A thrall," he muttered under his breath.

She laughed wickedly, "I did tell you didn't I? This woman was not discharged from the Legion. In fact, this poor girl was left for dead on the battlefield by her comrades. We meant to gain the Dragonborn's confidence months ago...unfortunately you swept in and took her away."

"Who are you," he demanded.

She waved a hand dismissing him, "That's not important. What is important is that you focus on encouraging the girl to join the cause - to end the war in our favor. Should you fail us or do any of those idiotic things you suggested then the coin flowing to your old friends will stop and when it stops they will only have you to blame. That Thorn fellow is just itching to get his hands on the girl too, so much so, he almost declined when we offered payment. Thankfully, there are always threats of violence to persuade with." The twisted, thin smile curled at her lips again.

"You're not Imperial," he concluded,"Even the Empire would never stoop so low as to have an innocent woman raped and murdered for their own benefit," he held his hands out, wringing an invisible neck, "You sick, twisted, FUCKS! Don't you EVER lay your hands on her!"

She scoffed at him, "Gods, you really do love her don't you? What a shame since she's such a necessary pawn in our game."

Love? Is that what this feeling was? This torturous pain he felt whenever she was far from his side, whenever he felt like he couldn't hold her close enough in his arms to protect her from the world around them, or save her from psychotic twisted fiends like this? He fixed a vicious glare at the woman.

"Oh - did I touch a nerve?" she mocked, "It must be hard for you, loving someone like her. I heard you were quite the womanizer until meeting the Dragonborn. But then you finally opened up and as usual it's come to bite you right in the ass," she laughed at him, "Pathetic. You humans are so pathetic."

It hit him like a ton of bricks, "You're Aldmeri."

"Whoops!" she smirked, holding a finger to her lips, "Did I give it away? Hmm, no matter. You may believe that the Dragonborn is yours, boy, that you've claimed her, but she is ours. That filthy little half-breed belongs to us and we shall use her how we please. See to it that you play your role well enough and you might even get to have a happily ever after with her."

Bishop was trembling with rage and a whole host of emotions twisted and writhed just under the surface making his stomach turn.

"Well it seems my time here is up. Be sure to make up some story about dear, old Lydia here running off to visit some dying cousin or what-have-you. Lying…Hmph, you're good at thatright?," she narrowed her eyes at him, her smirk turning into a vicious scowl she leaned forward, "And remember this ranger, if you cross us, not only will you have Thorn and his brigands at your back, but the entire Aldmeri Dominion will come crashing down on you. There will be nowhere left to run."

Her face twisted from one of sneering cruelty to pure agony as her body disintegrated into dust. His dagger clattered to the floor and he fell to his knees his body overwhelmed with fear and anger. He retched, vomiting up his breakfast and sat back, trying to catch his breath, his body perspiring heavily as he pound a fist to the floor and swore repeatedly under his breath.