A/N: I never thought about this until now so, I need to admit to all readers that this is my first ever Fanfiction. That does not mean lay off the flack or keep everything nice and dandy. Any feedback is well appreciated and I will try to address the errors, plot holes or just plain shite that viewers notify me of. Cheers all and hope you are enjoying what goes on inside my head. XD

Chapter 5 - Hunt

I amble through the trees, bow in hand as I scan the surrounds. He's around here somewhere, observing the prints and broken branches. Morning just beginning to lighten the predawn sky, mist still in its full and dew falling from the canopy above. All is silent in these forests. Peaceful and at rest, untouched by human hands, nature at its finest. I was the intruder.

Making my way back to the river, I found my target. Crouching and inching forward I knocked an arrow to my bow, the pheasants I had cooked paying me a second time with their feathers. Mud claimed my bare feet, letting them sink and succumb to the coagulating, coolness of the earth. It felt so good to be back in the forests again. Nothing like the dry, red dust and scorching sands of back home. Hopping from foot to foot to find the shady spots with rifle in hand, being aware of the deadly spiders that lurked in their small burrows- focus Jimmy. I shook my head to be rid of the memory, you're here to hunt.

I took aim, breathing out and letting my shoulders relax. The string touched my lips and halted for the perfect strike, my eyes narrowing to my targets heart. The deer perused the grass, it's ears still not twitching from my presence. A buck of all things, a big score for its meat and hide. I shuffle closer, the foliage still giving me camouflage from the beast.

I let loose my arrow, it singing through the air. It missed. Birds chirped and squawked, the deer ran head long into the trees before I could notch another arrow. Shit. I turned to watch what had spooked the animals. It was quick, humanoid and gold glinted from under its arm. "Cheers mate!" I yell out, "ignorant prick." My annoyance sated slightly as the human looks ba- that aint human.

I sauntered into town, the morning meandering on as the folk began their routines. I left the bow and quiver of arrows with Hod, he was bewildered I had not come back with any game, only empathizing when I had told him of my short comings from the hunt. Taking the axe lying dormant against the woodpile I chopped the small logs fervently. I didn't want to think or ponder, my mind was a chaotic thing, questioning all with no reprieve of answers. The work in front of me gave me my relief, my escape. Repetitive motions that exerted my force and frustration, every splitting log a fragment of anger splintering away from my person.

"That axe needs sharpening," Gerdur observed.

I sat back and admired the dulled wedge, what can be broken can be renewed, maintain and preserve. My thoughts taking me back to past times, servicing cars and giving them an extended life. This axe was no different. "It does," I mulled twisting the shaft through my hands. "Nothing an oil stone can't fix," the head burying deep into the stump I had used as a platform.

Gerdur tossed a bag of gold to me, "could you go and fetch a few?" Her demeanour changing as her eyes perceive my face, sweat dripping in pools between my feet. "You've been working too hard, a break will help." I nodded, keeping the turmoil built up within. I couldn't tell her what I was feeling, dreams and shadows didn't bode well with Nords I had found.

Hinges creaked as the door opened, the sound only partial to the two siblings squabbling over the counter. I payed them no mind, focussing on the shelves of supplies, weapons and armour. Multitudes of steel, leathers and fur, the coming winter was beginning to show with the increased stock.

"… No chasing thieves and no adventures!" I tilted my head to look at the pair. Lucan Valerius stood with his arms crossed, his constant scowl more predominant as he tried to stare down his sister.

"So, what?" Camilla's haughty tone always intrigued me when she spoke to her brother. Disapproval and hints of domination, I hope you're faring better Faendal. "We just let that scaly bastard go after stealing from us?" My neck almost broke from looking so fast, eyes wide in realisation.

Lucan faltered under his younger sister's gaze, "we don't even know if he was the one who stole it."

Her laughter was sharp and short lived, eyes showing the true irritation of Lucan's avoidance to conflict. "No one else in town left so quickly after one night, or are you thinking it could have been Jarek?" Camilla's index finger pointed straight at me. Shit woman, don't bring me into this!

Lucan stammered as I brought the oil stones and a bundle of leathern cords onto the counter. "Uh… I hope you don't think we're accusing you of stealing?" He quivered as I gave him coin for the goods.

I smiled evasively, "the stranger from last night," my voice with a hint of menace. " I didn't catch his face, he wasn't human?"

"Argonian," Camilla stepped to my side, her opened presence towards me much more welcoming than her prior conversation.

I had heard and read briefly on the lizard folk from Black Marsh. Scaled humanoids that worshipped the Hist, whatever that was. I turned back to Lucan, taking in his apprehensive features and being mindful of Gerdur's words, "no man could stand against you." I softened my expression and enlightened both siblings on my predawn events, I then divulged as to the Argonian carrying gold.

Camilla jumped to me first, grasping my arm with her dainty fingers. "That's it!" She exclaimed, "the dragon claw!" Glaring at her brother in triumph. "Where was he heading?"

I fleeted a look at her older brother, defeat written all over his face, downcast and uncomfortable. "East from the south road, picked up pace after seeing me," I grumbled, "Would need a horse to catch up to him then you'd need to find him." I shrugged.

Lucan's determination came back with a fluster of waving hands, "you see?" He gestured towards me, "it's already long gone, in Riften and pawned off by now."

Camilla shook her head, her brows furrowing ever deeper. The stern look she gave me would have made Delphine look harmless at that moment. "Take me there."

I wish I had a camera or a mirror at that moment. Lucan's face showed pure fear and mine of just as much humour. "No!" Lucan barked. "I will not have you gallivanting across the countryside."

I admired his graceful façade of bravado, but still I intervened for peace between them. "I'll bring it back," I said, waiting for one to acknowledge I had said anything. A silent match of death glares waged between them, though I thought it amusing I needed their attention. I slammed my fist in to the counter, a large crack forming along the wood grain, "I said I'll bring it back!"

My outburst stunned both of them, first looking to where my fist had left an imprint in the wood and then to me, fear riddling their faces as I glared at the siblings. "I'll need a map," I declared, "I've never been to Riften."

Camilla was the first to come out of her stupor, shaking her head and then busying herself in a draw behind the counter. "Of course," she said, pleasure lacing her tone. Laying the map in front of me she began to point out landmarks for the journey I would take. "Ivarstead will be a good place to stock up once through the valley," pointing to a dot on the southern end of the map.

"Where's Riften?" I gazed over the map not even able to place where the hell I was.

She pointed over to the far south eastern area of the map to what looked like a city marker. "Here, about a days travel on foot." Her features changed as she saw my expression. "We can't afford a horse," her eyes down cast with embarrassment.

I studied the map, taking in the topography from the routes travelled. Mountains and valleys, rivers and forests, it was well drawn from the detail put in to the thin leathern hide. "Why would a thief travel so far for a stolen piece of gold?" Raising my head to observe the siblings.

Lucan fumbled for an answer, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. "It's home to all thieves," Camilla rolled her eyes, "they have what you would call a guild in Riften, a base of operations."

I nodded, rolled up the map and handed over a handful of gold from my own pouch. "I'll be on my way this afternoon"

I stepped underneath the southern walkway, contemplating when I arrived how this was the first thing I saw, an hallucination when my mind was delirious from pain and disease. My arm flexed, the teeth marks stretching across supple, untanned skin, the dead don't dream. I heaved a sigh and took the first step of many towards Riften, the unknown before me but this time I was prepared.

Gerdur had gifted me with the bow I had used on my hunts and a pack of ample food. She was unhappy to see me go but concealed those emotions in front of her husband. A clasp on the shoulder, a sigh and then disappeared back to her mill. Hod had given me a bladder of 'Firebrand' wine, "for the snow," he had said. I took a swig as good fortune before him, grinning as I told him my tradition of being offered a drink.

"Jarek!" As I turned, Dorthe thudded into my stomach, tears trickling down her petite face. "P-p-please don't go," she blubbered, burying her face into my new tunic.

I knelt before her and cradled her chin beneath my forefinger, "I will come back, little one," I crooned, wiping salted streaks. "Once I find this thief and take back what doesn't belong to him."

Shifting her feet and still looking at the ground she mumbled, "b-but what if y-you d-don't?"

I sighed watching Alvor approach us. Lifting her head even higher until her eyes met mine. Green like the sea, deep and clear with that wild and unforseen rage that would claim so many hearts of men, certainly in her later years, no doubt. "I always come back," I smiled.

"Of course you will," Alvor approached, resting a hand on his daughter. "Though you're small, you are still a Nord." He laughed, "born from battles and ice, we survive."

I nodded in agreement, realizing how short I was compared to him, at least a foot or more. Dorthe sniffled silently, hanging her head once more as I stood to clasp her father's arm. "Thank you Alvor, your teachings, the forge, the money… well… everything," I shrugged, "Thank you."

He shook his head and chuckled. Releasing my arm, he brought forth leathers he'd been cradling under his arm and something wrapped in cloth. "The roads are becoming dangerous," he said as he handed the items to me.

I unwrapped the cloth, discovering an axe I had made only a few days ago. The shaft elongated like the one from my dream and the head, slick and light. I had angled the blade edge towards the shaft, crafting it perfect for throwing. "No," I thrust the axe out towards him, "this is your livelihood, I can't take it."

Again, he chuckled. Folding his arms and boring his eyes into mine. "You can give it back when you come back." Shit, used my own words against me. Well played smart arse.

They left soon after, Dorthe beginning to cry loudly, rubbing her eyes as the tears ran freely. I donned the leathers, tightening the straps and feeling them meld to my body, light and comfortable, I thought. I turned to take one last look at Riverwood. The sun was setting, golden rays dancing over thatched roofs and glistening on the flowing stream. I saw the decrepit ruins on the mountain looming above it all but it only added to the effect of the scenery of the village. "Now that is beauty," I whispered. My last words and thoughts now passed, I turned and began my trek towards the wilderness and beyond it all, Riften.

I smelt it before I saw the walls. Decaying flesh, smoke and death. I picked up pace, knowing I would find the place where all this insanity had started. Gates barred my path, Imperial soldiers had been stripped bare and impaled on stakes either side. Dragon's don't inflict fear with rotting death, they are fear. I pondered and poked one of the bodies. It wasn't fresh, most likely dead from the dragon attack. I looked closer, investigating the stake wound and the wood itself. It had been sharpened to a point recently, the charred surface cut away with crude strikes. Blood stained its tip that could only be from the rotting corpse and the wound appeared much younger than the sword and burn marks that riddled the body.

I readied my axe remembering I should thank Alvor for his persistence I take it. With a grunt I hefted the wooden gate large enough for a child to squeeze through. Though I was no child I was small for a Nord and small for a human, I made up for my height disability with fitness and strength, if you can't be taller, be bigger.

Slipping passed the entry, I padded across the ash. I took it all in, the fallen towers, burnt houses and the distinct remnants of human bones. There was nothing left, no life nor colour, all just shades of grey. Destruction in its most complete form, annihilation. I shuddered as the memories came flooding back. Agonised screams of unseen faces ghosted from the debris, phantom fires consuming entire buildings and the dragon, that monstrous roar, black wings reaching to the sky and those red, intelligent eyes.

"How did I survive?" I whispered to ghosts knowing I would not receive an answer.

"Who goes there?" A woman's voice called from on high. I glanced up at the only remaining tower. She was perched on a ledge, an arrow trained at me and string taught ready for my slightest move. The impaled bodies! My mind screamed, right, shit.

Dodging arrow after arrow I ran for the gate. Stupid, Jimmy! I chided myself, bloody careless! I rounded the next bend and took shelter beneath a collapsed roof. I was safe for now but if there was one, there were more. The archer could only be a sentry otherwise there would be no reason for her to be here. My assumptions confirmed as boots thudded closer to my hiding spot. I crouched and waited to see how many had come to investigate. Holding my breath and silently slipping the dagger from my belt into my other hand, I watched as two sets of iron clad grieves approached.

"We know you're here!" A burly voice growled, "come out now and we'll make your short life a quick death."

An invitation to die, I smirked, how quaint. I gripped the axe tighter, readying myself for what would eventually come. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing to control my racing heart. Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed. I chanted the mantra until only those words filled my mind and then stepped forward, straightening to my full height and opening my eyes.

Two men stood before me, withered and malnourished. Dirt and grime covered their skin where the rags of their clothes and armour did not. Nothing but common thugs, I mused. "I'm right here," spreading my arms wide, "take ya best shot."

One carried a war hammer, his movements slow and cumbersome to deal with the weight of the crude iron. "Looks like yer not as much of a coward as we thought."

I laughed, the sound echoing eerily off the shattered walls. It was mirthless and full of all the hatred I had for these cutthroat beggars. I laid my pack on the ground accompanied by the bow and quiver of arrows. "Two against one," I pointed at them, "and you're calling me a coward?" I spat.

"Enough of this!" The other charged me, shield raised and sword ready to strike. I strafed to his side knocking the shield down with my axe and slicing his sword wielding forearm with the dagger. He stumbled forward trying swipe at me before he fell, I dodged his useless attempt and leant back, driving my heel into his face, content as the muffled sound of his nose and jaw crunched beneath my boot.

The brigand sprawled in the ash, unmoving and blood seeping from his open mouth. I stepped towards the other, bearing my teeth in a wicked grin. "One down, one to go," I sighed brandishing my axe, "come at me!"

He was cautious, keeping me at a distance and only swung when I came within reach of his heavy weapon. I followed as he retreated further from the debris, forcing him to lift and swing the hammer as I feinted more attacks against him. My grin spread as I saw him panting, veins pulsed along his arms and the muscles tensing to what I knew as the point of cramping.

I heard it before I saw it, the whistling as an arrow pierced through wind. I couldn't move fast enough, pain arced through my shoulder as the head plunged inwards. I howl as the shaft protrudes to the other side, I couldn't look, not yet while my adversary stood ready to strike me down. Unable to lift my arm, I dropped the dagger and focussed to keep my other weapon between me and him.

From left and right the hammer swung. I jumped to keep myself out of reach, every jolt sending another sear of agony up my left shoulder. This is getting me nowhere, I thought as I dodged another blow. The bandit stumbled as he followed through and I backed up another few paces. A good ten metres separated us now and I knew what had to be done.

He rose slowly, digging the shaft of the hammer into the ground as a support for his wearied frame. "You just lost," I spat. With a roar I let the axe fly, it made no sound to my ears as head span over shaft. The bandit dropped his weapon, holding his hands to shield his face and eyes scrunched closed awaiting the contact from my weapon. A sickening squelch reached my ears and red drops seeped out through cloth and furs. Embedded into the chest of the bandit was my axe, the patch of red growing larger while the lights of his eyes dimmed. He collapsed and moved no longer.

I walked over to the now dead man and wrenched the axe out. Blood fell freely, pooling around the lifeless body. I felt nothing for him as I wiped the stains off the blade. No disgust or resentment, not even joy from the triumph of surviving. Picking up my knife I knelt next to his head. I didn't feel what happened next, I only saw.

My hand moved of its own accord and grasped the sharp edged. With one quick movement a thin red line split open in my palm, fingers clenched and droplets fell to the chest wound of the bandit. My head began to ring and then that voice, that haunting and exasperate voice.

"Blood of death, blood of life, blood for blood the final price."

I was shocked. The words came from my mouth, 'my' voice. Feeling my self shaking meant I was in control of my limbs once more. I wobbled to my feet and backed away to what could only be described as sacrificial patronage. I hauled my pack onto my one good shoulder along with the bow and arrows. Both weapons secured in my belt, I moved as fast as I dared so as not to jostle my other shoulder, seeing the arrow head stuck out above my pectoral did not give me confidence as a clean wound. Too many muscles, too many joints.

As I reached the gate I looked back to find the archer still watching me. She had no arrow and her arms hung limply at her sides. I flicked a small salute that may have passed as a wave but she understood and gave me the same gesture in return. Respect among survivors, among the living. "Hunt well," I whispered and left that place of death.