The Misadventures of a Pragmatic Dragonborn Chapter 3, an elder scroll series fanfic

Hey, if you guys want to laugh at me, I got super high and ended up leaving a review on my own story. At the time I had the tab with that chapter open and thought the story was someone else's work. In retrospect, I don't know why I didn't wonder why this story looked awfully familiar. It should be the 6th review on here. It'll probably be taken down soon, so look while you still can.

Flynn watched the sun languidly rise from behind the mountains, brightening the sky and signalling the start of a new day. She sighed and scrubbed her face tiredly, staring at the rock ceiling above her. She wanted to get up, but at the same time she really, really didn't. Flynn craned her neck to look down at Farkas, who was still snoozing peacefully with his face nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck. His weight on her chest was kind of suffocating, and she was pretty sure he was drooling a little on her neck, but she didn't have the heart to wake him up just yet. Regardless, she knew she probably shouldn't leave Farengar or the Jarl waiting much longer, lest they send some other poor fool to the barrow in her stead. Mustering some willpower, Flynn begrudgingly pulled herself up. Brushing Farkas's tangled hair out of his face, she gently pried him off of her and pulled her bedroll over him. Patting his back, Flynn stood up and stretched her legs, feeling tired but generally okay.

She took a while to carefully and quietly pack up her belongings, opting to let Farkas sleep for as long as possible. He didn't stir much, just rolled over every now and then, and it wasn't long until Flynn was ready to go. Flynn leaned against the rocky wall, studying Farkas's face. He looked strange without his war paint. Flynn sat there for awhile, not really thinking about anything significant while thumbing through some of the spell tomes Farengar had given to her. She found it fascinating that the words in the books would burn away as soon as she read them. Closing one of the tomes dealing with ward magic, she sighed and ran a hand through her mussed hair. She really had to get a move on, but did she really have to wake Farkas up just yet? She was sure he'd be fine by himself. Then again, it'd probably be better to get him home as soon as possible, and Jorrvaskr was by no means out of the way. But wait, he'd probably want to drag her back to Jorrvaskr so his friends could praise her like the citizens of Riverwood had done numerous times already. That was the last thing she wanted; attention was terrible.

Thinking for a moment, Flynn came to a compromise. She'd leave Farkas alone, but she'd put up some ward spells and runes to keep him protected. It took a couple of tries, but she managed to put up a ward spell that'd generally shield Farkas from sight, and placed down 6 runes, 4 fire runes, and 2 frost. Satisfied (and completely winded), she kissed Farkas on the forehead before departing into the early light of dawn. It took about half an hour of jogging, but she made it up to Dragonsreach just in time for the Jarl to stumble downstairs. Anette nearly dropped her teacup upon noticing Flynn's arrival.

"Oh! Flynnigan has returned!" She yelled over her shoulder to the occupants of Dragonsreach before she swept to Flynn's side. "We were so worried, young lady! We were beginning to suspect you'd perished!" She gently cupped Flynn's cheek as if reassuring herself Flynn was truly there. "Was that silly stone tablet where Farengar said it was?"

Ah yes, the Dragonstone.

Feeling her anger from the night before reignite itself, she spat, "Oh, he is very lucky that it was. I have some choice words for him, actually. Anette, why don't you go into the kitchen and fix me a cup of mint tea? Please, take your time." Flynn stressed the last bit, sending Anette a pointed look.

Anette got the hint and scurried off to the kitchen as fast as her old hips could carry her frail, thin body. By the time Flynn was finished expressing exactly where Farengar could shove his "stupid fucking rock", the mint tea had long since gone cold and 2 of the Jarl's children were in tears. Hugging Anette and the other maids tightly, Flynn made a point of flipping the bird at the Jarl and the Court Mage as she walked backwards outside of Dragonsreach. In retrospect, she'd wonder how she'd managed to go down the stairs backwards, but for now, she was going to go bitch at Eorlund, since he was her friend(?) and he was the closest to Dragonsreach.

"Hey, Eorlund." Flynn called as she made it to the top of the steps leading to the Skyforge.

Eorlund jumped at the sound of her voice and gaped at her, eyes wide. "By the Nine, I was starting to wonder if you'd died!" Eorlund huffed a laugh, his face breaking into a wide grin.

He stood up from his grindstone and crushed Flynn into a hug. "How's that armor been working for you, lass?"

Flynn shrugged indifferently. "It's heavy as fuck, but I've adjusted to it. How has forging been?"

"It's been alright. Made some new armor, sharpened Vilkas's sword, and had to fix up Aela's shield. Aela told me she'd met you, actually. Did you honestly withstand the blow of a giant's club?" Eorlund asked, a note of curiosity in his tone.

"Yes, I did. Impressed Farkas, though I'm pretty sure it scared him a little too."

"Aye, that it did. Boy, did he look shaken." Eorlund suddenly frowned. "I'm worried about him, actually."

Flynn had the sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly why, but she humored Eorlund in asking, "And why would that be?"

"Vilkas tells me he didn't come back to Jorrvaskr last night. If he was going on a job I wouldn't be so worried, but...well, it's no matter."

Flynn decided to prod a little to see if maybe Eorlund knew about what Farkas could apparently turn into. "Do you suppose he went out to run around the tundra?"

Eorlund narrowed his eyes at her, "Where did that come from?"

The note of apprehension in his tone was enough for Flynn to assume the answer to her unasked question. "Well, I hope that you know that Farkas can turn into a gigantic dog...thing, because if you don't you're going to make a very shocked expression."

Instead of his expression morphing into shock, it turned several shades paler. Not waiting for him to say anything, Flynn continued on.

"Okay, so you do know. Eorlund, I've heard about werewolves and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that he might be one."

Eorlund sighed, looking to the side. "Your suspicions are correct; Farkas is a werewolf. How did you find out?" Eorlund's voice sounded calm, resigned even, but the tightening of his arm muscles gave away how threatened he felt.

"Relax. He's alright, I didn't hurt him. I was hanging out in the tundra last night as an act of spite against Farengar, which I'll explain later. I was walking around when I came across him being jumped by 5 or 6 bandits. If it weren't for me, he'd probably be dead right now. I clothed him after he changed back to his normal form, healed him, cleaned him up, and let him sleep with me after making him eat something. Right now he's still probably snoozing. He'll be alright; I set up a shitload of runes and wards around him so if anyone tries to fuck with him, they'll die." Flynn shrugged.

"What if he wakes up and steps on the runes?" Eorlund shuffled his feet, looking very alarmed.

"The runes I placed react to people breaching an area. Since he's already in the area, he should be alright." Flynn briefly explained.

"Oh," Eorlund visibly sagged in relief, "good. He really is alright, then?"

"Yes. He's bound to be a little disoriented since he didn't really eat enough to replenish his blood supply, but as long as he gets some more food in him before he conks out again, he should be alright."

Eorlund looked at her with an odd look and said, "You wouldn't happen to be a healer, would you?"

Flynn paused at that, her lips pulling into a frown.

Dirty basement walls. Glass. A lot of glass; all shattered. In her arms, her leg, her head, her stomach, her everywhere. Musty, cold ground. Tears. Yellow light, warmth. No more tears; it's okay; it's really not. Tired, can't sleep. Need food. Need to eat.

It's not okay. Never okay.

Shaking herself, Flynn pulled herself out of her own mind. "...Of sorts," She answered Eorlund question.

Eorlund nodded at that. "That's good; we could use more healers in Skyrim. Say, we could actually use someone like that in Jorrvaskr; do you need a job?"

The answer to that question was "Yes" but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"No," She shook her head, "besides, I'm not nearly experienced enough for the injuries I'm sure your warriors typically have. I'd need to spend more time working on my alchemy or practicing the restoration spells Farengar gave me to take on a job like that. Maybe both, actually."

"Speaking of Farengar, you said something about him earlier, having to do with spite?"

Oh, yes. The reason she'd come here in the first place.

Clasping her hands together, Flynn leveled eyes with Eorlund. "Oh, Eorlund, you wouldn't even believe the shit I've been through because of that jackass!"

For the next 20 minutes, Eorlund listened calmly as Flynn very angrily recounted her tale of Bleak Falls Barrow with exaggerated arm movements. She told him about how she'd been attacked before she'd even gone inside, gotten jumped by skeevers upon entry shortly followed by more bandits, had a gigantic spider fall on top of her head (she now understood Ulfric's pain), set off a load of booby traps, woken up draugr, subsequently fought said draugr, used a golden claw to open a door after being pelted several times with poisoned darts, had her mind raped by some weird stone wall, and had to fight off a very, very pissed off draugr that had quite literally burst out of it's coffin. By the end, Eorlund was unsurprised by what had gone down (this was usually the case in all Nordic tombs, he'd explained), but was astounded she'd survived with so little experience, and was very cross with the Jarl and Court Mage.

"So, let me get this straight, you're telling me those fools sent you to a bandit and draugr infested tomb for the sake of some stupid rock, right after you'd fended off a dragon?!"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you!"

Eorlund clenched his fist and looked up at Dragonsreach, and growled, "I ought to go beat them up for you right now, sweetie. I may be old, but I can still kick their scrawny asses with no problem. Making all this armor and lugging around steel all day hasn't done nothing for me!"

Flynn sighed, chuckling tiredly, "I'd love to sic you on them, but don't. You'll get in trouble."

Eorlund shook his head, pressing his lips in a thin line. "Very well. Still, I admire your tenacity. Three days? I would've left after a couple hours."

"Eh, I had nothing better to do with myself," Flynn shrugged. "It would be nice if I was a little stronger, though."

"You have a real big fire in you, lass. That much is clear to me. Y'know, from what you've told me, you adjusted to your armor very quickly. Impressive. I think you're just fine. If you want to be stronger though, why don't you travel around a bit, unless you'd like to join the Companions?"

Flynn shook her head. "I'd rather not. Jorrvaskr's warriors are bent on glory and honor. While there's nothing wrong with that, I don't care for that. I don't need the attention."

Eorlund hummed in understanding. "I figured. If that's what you wish, I won't pressure you, even if I think you'd thrive with the Companions. If you want to get stronger, why don't you explore and take on the challenges yourself? That's a good way to build yourself into a warrior."

"Should I, though? I could die."

"You may, but something tells me you wouldn't. You spent 3 days clearing out a tomb infested with bandits and draugr. That's no tiny feat. With the determination you have, I'd say you'd persevere just fine. And hey, if you get injured, you could work on that restoration and alchemy you were telling me about."

Dirty basement walls. It was cold, so cold. She was cold, she was tired. Glass. A lot of glass; all shattered. In her arms, her leg, her head, her stomach, her everywhere. Musty, cold ground. Tears. Yellow light, warmth. She is weak. Weak little girl.

She does not want to be weak anymore.

Flynn nodded in assent. "I will. I'll wander around Skyrim, and I will become a warrior. Thank you, Eorlund."

"Anytime, lass. Remember, you're always welcome at my door, and my forge too."

"I know."

With her mind on becoming stronger, she hugged Eorlund and hurried down the stairs away from the Skyforge. She hurried past the screaming Heimskr, the dying tree, nearly tripped down the steps, and she skidded to a halt by Carlotta. Ysolda was nearby too.

"You two, I'm going to be gone for awhile, and who knows? I might not come back. But, in the short time I've known you two, I wanted you both to know I like you both a lot, and I will send you letters." Flynn explained.

"Whoa, whoa, Flynn! Slow down, there! What's going on, where are you going?" Carlotta furrowed her brows, gently grasping her friend by the shoulders.

Flynn felt her lips pull into an excited and kind of manic grin. "Everywhere! All over Skyrim. I'm going to become stronger."

She hugged both Ysolda and Carlotta tightly, and off she went, ignoring her friends calling her name.

She spent months prowling around in the cold wastelands of the Pale, stomping through snow and slush. She worked on her destruction and illusion magic to both keep her warm and shielded from prying eyes during the frozen nights. When she'd long since gotten used to the cold temperatures and fighting to stay alive, she travelled around Haafingar. She came across what the residents of Dragon's Bridge referred to as the Steed Stone during her travels, which made her feel as strong as all Oblivion, which one of the guards had explained was the magic of the ancient stone itself. From there she spent months traveling to all areas of Skyrim, from Markarth to Riften. She spent time near Ivarstead in a shack long forgotten with a dusty alchemy table. She worked on her alchemy and quickly became known for her potions. She went to Morthal and laid waste to a vampiric plot, bringing justice to Helgi. She spent time in Falkreath, helping the citizens and exploring the woods. She was even given a plot of land as a gift, on which she built a humble home. She went on to Riften and shut down a Skooma business, and became friends with the argonians and the smith.

Somehow, she'd also managed to gain the respect of Maven Black-Briar after she'd survived 3 Dark Brotherhood assassins and 8 groups of hired thugs Maven had sent after her when she'd insulted Maven's terrible hairstyle. She went to Dawnstar and took care of the dream problem (may or may not have killed a priest of Mara) and vandalized a weird black door that talked into her head. She went to Winterhold and talked with some of the mages before making a hefty donation to the Jarl to rebuild his town. From there she went to Windhelm, investigated some murders, and spent time with Ulfric, talking about his war. She made friends with the argonians there too. She then travelled to Markarth, where she lead the Forsworn out of the mines before slaughtering Madanach in front of them all as an example to the city. She made friends with the old alchemist and orc blacksmiths, and spent time with Calcelmo, working with him to translate the ancient language of the Falmer (he quite liked her bag). Finally, she went to Solitude, watched some guy get executed, spoke with Lady Elisif, may or may not have invaded the mind of Pelagius, and tackled the Wolf Queen herself. She made frequent visits to Riverwood in between her travels, each time with more strength, power, and stories. The townsfolk revelled in her stories (though she conveniently left out the stories of her dealings with Daedra, save for the stories about Sheogorath, Sanguine, and Barbas, since they were all harmlessly- and hilariously -absurd) and cherished all of her visit. It was also nice that, whenever she was in Riverwood, Ysolda and Carlotta would walk across the tundra for an hour just to see her.

Speaking of which, about one year after Helgen, Riverwood was where she was now. Once more, she was hanging out with the townsfolk in the Inn. Delphine had long since caved to her curiosity and was washing mugs while listening inconspicuously. Ysolda and Carlotta sat near to her, Mila seated in Carlotta's lap. Haming was curled next to her, his head gently laid on her thigh as she patted his head. Dorthe and Frodnar were also nearby her, along with Sigrid and Gerdur. Eira, Ralof, Hadvar, Alfhild, and Alvor were also nearby, listening attentively. Alfhild had returned to Windhelm for some time before deciding to return to Riverwood and live there. She and Eira had both been built a home, along with another home that was supposed to be occupied by Hadvar and Ralof, but generally stayed empty. At this moment though, it was occupied by Eira's father in law Froki Whetted-Blade, who had come to Riverwood spend time with her and his grandson after the one year anniversary of Helgen. Finishing her tale about what had happened in Markarth, Flynn moved on to her adventure in Fellglow Keep.

"Now, before I begin this, let me preface this by letting it be noted to those who don't know that I loot the dungeons I clear out after I'm sure it's devoid of life. In other terms, I murder everyone first and then I take their crap."

That roused a couple chuckles out of everyone.

"So, I strode right out of Markarth with my head held high, right, and I thought to myself, I'm pissed off. Let's go into a place that is filled with bad people and murder them all! That'll cheer me up!"

"I can relate to that," A passing mercenary (who'd come to the town for a drink and had been roped into story time) snorted. "Where'd you go?"

"Excellent question. I wandered around for awhile, asking around for good dungeons to clear out. Eventually, I ended up in Rorikstead. I hung out with this kid Erik for a while and asked him if he knew about any good places filled with bandits or rogue mages. He looked at me like I was crazy, but told me about Fellglow Keep."

When Flynn arrived, there were two mages and a fire atronach on-guard outside. She made quick work of all of them, and found the entrance to the massive fort. Descending down the spiral staircase, she slowly swung open the heavy wooden door, pushing her way inside as quietly as she could. There was a collapsed dresser right by the door with two dresses and some nice boots still inside. She shoved them in her bag and crept down the musty stairs, feeling along the slimy walls since the light of the torch nearby was hardly enough. Moss covered areas on the floor, some fallen pillars coated with some of the moss on the bottom. A dim lantern glittered ahead, illuminating some slimy, salmon infested water. Flynn could only imagine how fish had ended up there. There were some barnacles growing on a half submerged stone that she pocketed, wading quietly through the water. Two skeevers stood ahead of her, growling quietly as they waddled along. Killing them swiftly, she walked around a rusty bear trap and through the wooden, rotten door. Ashes of a thrall long forgotten slid beneath her feet as she crept along, staying close to the left wall. Two frostbite spiders splashed about in the water ahead. She hurled two ice spears at them lackadasicalling, hearing too late the steps of a nearby mage.

"What the-!?" The man sputtered, hurrying down the algae-covered steps.

Shit!

Yanking her swords out of their sheathes, Flynn dodged a ball of fire and sliced the man across the neck. He choked on his own blood, his hand uselessly flying up to clutch at his torn neck. His body convulsed grotesquely before he fell limply to the ground, moving no longer. A little shaken by his brutal death she hurried up the stairs, flattening herself against the wall and listening for more movement. Nothing. She crept past the table the dead mage had probably been sitting at, going down the cramped hallway. There were stairs going up, and down to the left. Looking down the left stairs, Flynn saw a bunch of cages. Jumping over a pressure plate and shaking her head, she went up the stairs ahead of her and came upon the door. All there was inside was some nice armor and a locked chest, which she made note of. She'd come back for it later. Going down the left stairs, all Flynn came across were some blood-starved, insane vampires locked in cages. She put them out of their misery gently, before continuing on after getting rid of a mage who had walked in at the wrong time. She slapped a stamina potion she'd almost missed into her bag, continuing into a wide, open area. Two mages stood inside, poking around in torn-open corpses. Shivering in disgust, Flynn didn't bother with sneaking and instead took them all by surprise, ending their miserable lives quickly. Making her way down a narrow staircase, Flynn came across a circular room filled with more cells.

There was a very bored looking mage sitting in a chair, lobbing fireballs at some of the prisoners. It smelled strongly of fecal matter and urine, which disgusted her because that bore testament to how long some of these people had been here. Standing up and prowling in the shadows, she snuck up behind the mage and snapped his neck before he got the chance to scream. Noticing what had happened, some of the prisoners slammed against their cell bars, screaming at her to please let them out, pointing wildly at the levers. The desperation in their voices was sickening; she knew she'd be hearing that in her dreams. She couldn't blame them at all; anyone would be so desperate with their salvation dangling in front of him. She gladly obliged in pulling the levers, feeling her heart clench for these poor people. Several people didn't have the strength to even stand. She threw healing potions around like candy, and took extra care of the prisoners who could hardly stand. Many of the prisoners hugged her tightly as they sobbed their eyes out in gratitude and relief. Flynn pointed out the closest city, Whiterun, on her map and gave the captives directions and instructed them to take care of those of them who couldn't walk. She pointed the prisoners to an innocent chest nearby that most likely held their belongings. They laughed and cried as they retrieved what was theirs, and expressing their gratitude over and over again, the prisoners left as a large group, the strongest of them carrying the weakest. She made sure to warn them of the pressure plate up ahead from the other room full of cages, giving them directions out so they wouldn't run into anyone else bad. Giving the room a once over, she nodded to herself, satisfied with her handiwork and pretty sure no one else was being held captive. She sighed, looking sadly at the people in the cages who had perished. She wished she'd made it to Fellglow sooner; perhaps they could've been saved. She'd come back for their bodies and given them proper rest once everything was said and done. One of the corpses caught her eyes; was looked to be a "he" was dressed in tattered college robes; probably a scholar at the College of Winterhold. Shame. She took a soul gem out of the dead mage's pocket, and continued on.

The stairs up ahead lead upstairs, close to the end of the Keep. She didn't want to go there yet, so she went downstairs instead, coming across a mage instructing others to hurl fireballs and ice spears at vampires. One was already dead, and another wailing. Vampires or not, those were living creatures. Or, not living, but they still felt pain and stuff, and torturing them wasn't right. She make quick work of the three mages and offered comfort to the vampire as it succumbed to its injuries. She soothed it as best as she could, stroking their marred face as they clutched her hand. She stayed there long after the vampire had passed, offering a prayer to send the vampire somewhere nice and find peace in their second death. Saddened, she continued up more stairs, picking some nice garlic off of a braid. As she reached the top of the stairs, she was faced with an idly strolling mage and a suspiciously long hallway lined with coffins. As if feeling her presence, weaker draugr began to rise from their rest, peering around with their glowing blue eyes. Pressing her lips in a line, Flynn gathered a lot of ice magic and shot it towards the draugr, killing them all instantly and injuring the mage. The mage cursed loudly in alarm, and began to run in her direction, eyes landing on her. A quick jet of fire to the face made her eyes lose their light. Another mage stood at the end of the dimly lit hallway, looking around for her fearfully. She ended his life quickly as well, and continued into the next room, walking down a narrow and very dusty hallway. Shoving a coin purse into her bag, she continued upstairs, hearing the sound of someone smithing. The next room didn't yield the source of the smithing, instead revealing a lounging mage and a lot of benches surrounding a makeshift summoning circle.

He didn't even see her coming. Chuckling at how easy it was to kill everyone, she continued into the next room. Two mages chatted about their experiments as they sipped on what looked like ale from her position across the room. She dispatched them both with ice spears to the skull, taking their bottle of ale with her. She trotted along a long hallway, ending up in a very open room with a staircase in the middle of the west wall. There was a large door to the left that most likely led outside. Flynn ignored it in favor of entering the room across from her. Two mages caught sight of her immediately as she entered, firing two ice bolts at her face directly. They hit her head on and somehow she managed to blindly kill them. Drinking a health potion, she felt her injuries heal and she explored the room, finding what was likely meant to be a makeshift bathroom. Finding that the room led to nowhere else, she jogged up the stairs on the west wall in the big room and into a room on the right where she found another one of those weird, glowing stones in the gold cases and the probable source of the past smithing noises. Pocketing the weird glowing gem, she continued out of the room, looking for another place to go. It took her a moment, but she noticed a door directly across from the staircase and to the left, both shrouded from sight by some clever wards. Smiling, Flynn went through the left door, coming across a library inhabited by two conversing mages. She made her way past them, silencing them both with sharp-shot ice spears, and continued down another hallway. There was a mage and another flame atronach who quickly fell by her hand, and another two rooms. She ignored the closer room, instead picking the lock to the room on the right hand wall. There was nothing of real note in the room or the next, so she went up the spiral staircase, finding an array of scrolls and potions lined on shelves. Slapping it into her bag, she continued into a large, circular only to be stopped by a sudden voice.

"So you're the one who barged into my home and laid waste to my projects." an Altmer woman clad in a hooded blue robe called to her, her tone painted in annoyance. "How nice to meet you."

"Who...are you?" Flynn called cautiously, wondering if she was the reason all of those people had been held captive.

"Names no longer matter. You may refer to me as The Caller," The woman smoothly replied, surprisingly composed considering all of her minions were dead. "Now, do you have a reason for making such a mess?"

"I...uh, I was in Markarth, I was mistakenly imprisoned and subsequently escaped, and I came here to blow off some steam…" Flynn sheepishly shrugged.

The Caller raised a thin eyebrow, her mouth parting. "You came here, and murdered a ginormous fort full of powerful mages...to blow off steam?"

Flynn nodded in assent.

The Caller, in turn, looked utterly baffled. "I'd assumed you were here for Savos Aren's stolen books. You honestly came here and laid waste to all of my hard work...just because?"

Hard work? Ah, so she was the reason all of those people were being held captive. Fantastic.

Feeling her blood begin to boil, Flynn slowly approached The Caller with soft footsteps, keeping her voice eerily calm. "Yeah, pretty much."

The Caller sighed very deeply and heavily, scrubbing her face with her open palm. "Fuck it," She muttered. "Take the damn books anyway and get out of my face immediately."

"What?" Flynn quirked a brow. Did this woman, this heinous witch, honestly think Flynn was going to leave without her head on a pike?

"You heard me, you dangerous, ebony-clad lunatic. Take the books and go."

"You're...not even going to attack me?" Flynn took a few more cautious steps towards The Caller.

"No. Leave me be to continue my experiments, and I won't murder you. Just go."

Let her continue her experiments? Images of the ragged, disheveled prisoners came to mind and Flynn pressed her mouth in a flat line. As if!

Flynn unsheathed her blade slowly and quietly, "Well, if you really aren't going to do anything, I'm going to feel really bad about this. Oh, wait. No, I'm not. You're just making it easier."

The Caller's head shot up and lightning began to crackle in her hands. She went to hiss something at Flynn, but she never got the chance. Flying into action, Flynn sprang forward and, swinging her blade as fast and as hard as she possibly could, she lopped off The Caller's head. Wiping her blade clean on the fallen Caller's robe, she walked around the circular room, picking up three books titled The Last King of Ayleids, Night of Tears, and Fragment; On Artaeum. She thumbed through the pages, skimming the pages quickly. Finding a key on The Caller's body, she unlocked another door in the room to find an array of nice loot. Soul gems and enchanted objects littered the room, some scrolls and potions scattered about too. Since the Keep was clear, it was time to loot. Working backwards, Flynn picked the place clean, pilfering through everything she could find. She was pleasantly surprised by the array of alchemy reagents strewn in baskets and barrels. Eventually, Flynn found herself in the cells where the prisoners had been locked in, the place picked clean. She was double-checking the area to make sure that she hadn't missed anyone.

Boy, was she glad she double checked.

"And then what happened?" Haming asked, shaking her thigh vigorously. "Come on, Flynn! Tell us, tell us!"

"That, little cub, will be the story for tomorrow night."

A simultaneous groan swept around the room followed by complaints.

"Aw, come on, Flynn!" You can't just leave us hanging like that!" Ralof roared, dramatically flailing his arms in frustration.

"Oh, I believe I can." Flynn laughed. "I'll finish that story tomorrow, because right now I think it's time for little children to go to sleep so I can tell...other stories. Am I right?" Flynn eyed Sigrid, Eira, Carlotta, and Gerdur.

Eira seemed to get the hint first and nudged her son. "Aye, I believe so. Come on, Haming, it's time for bed."

"But, mom!" Haming whined, stomping his little foot.

"Haming, this isn't up for debate." Eira said to her son with a note of warning in her tone. "Come on, sweetie."

"Is it bedtime for me and Frodnar too? And Mila? Dorthe turned to Sigrid, who nodded.

"I'm afraid so. Gerdur, Carlotta, let's get our kids in bed."

Froki grumbled something and got up too, following behind Eira and his grandson. After Eira, Carlotta, Sigrid, and Gerdur returned, the night was filled with slightly more inappropriate stories, and other fun tales. The travelling mercenary shared tales of his own, lacking in luster in comparison to Flynn's but much funnier in a sense of miscommunication. It turned out the man had trouble with figuring out what people wanted done exactly, and so many of his stories ended up hilarious. Flynn's personal favorite was the one where he was sent to go "rough someone up" but had misread what his contracter wrote, thinking he was told to "tough them up" and subsequently taught them some sword techniques instead of kicking the crap out of them. She mostly liked the story because the guy noted that the man he'd taught sword techniques to (and later beat up) ended up becoming his husband. Soon enough, the first fingers of dawn started to probe the sky, and people began to turn in for the night. Eventually, it was only the Helgen squad (or so they were referred to as), Ysolda, and Carlotta hanging around, sitting around the fire.

"So, Flynn. Fellglow Keep. Leaving us hanging there was kind of a dick move. C'mon, finish the story! It's just us!"

"Yeah, and?" Flynn playfully elbowed Carlotta in side.

"Oh, come off it. We're like your siblings now, whether you like it or not. Spill! Who did you save this time!?" Alfhild demanded, slamming her mug on the table.

If Flynn was fair-skinned, she would've blushed at the flippant admission of a shared sibling-like relationship.

"Yeah! Listen to your sister!" Hadvar teased, shoving Flynn. "And your big brother!"

"Ha, you think you're the older one?" Flynn barked a laugh. "Yeah, okay. How old are you!?"

"32! How old are you!?"

Flynn paused, shrinking at the realization he was older than her. "...26. So, maybe you're older than me. But, I'm more mature than you are, so there!"

"Hadvar, I've known you for a whole year. How did I not know you were 32?" Alfhild shook her head at herself.

Hadvar just shrugged and made an "I dunno" sound.

Eira suddenly got confused. "Wait, all that time ago when you were yelling at Ulfric about the Great War, you spoke like you'd fought in it. But, the war ended 26 years ago; you would've been a baby when it started."

Hadvar frowned at that. "I know. I didn't fight in it myself, but my mother and father did. I was quite literally born on the battlefield. When I was just a boy, I'd see dead people every day. That's why I was screaming about the body piles."

Flynn loudly blew a breath out at that. "Man, and I thought my childhood sucked."

Ysolda furrowed her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, we've all kind of shared about our home lives, but you haven't told us much, Flynn."

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Flynn clapped her hands at that. "So, Fellglow Keep. Here's who I saved!"

"You're avoiding the question-"

"-I said Fellglow Keep!"

Yes, she was very glad she'd double checked, because in one of the cells, next to the many dead people, lied someone curled on the ground and barely breathing.

Her heart leapt to her throat and she felt an icy feeling wash over her at the realization that if she hadn't come back, she could've missed this person. Trying to steady her shaking fingers, she jammed the key The Caller had been carrying into the lock on the cell door she'd closed, all but ripping the door handle off of the cell door in her haste to reach the fallen man's side. He smelled horrible, but that was literally one of the last things on her mind as she took in how utterly mauled the man looked. He was covered in lacerations, bruises, and Gods knew what else, and he shivered miserably against the cold, stone floor.

Flipping him over as gently as she could, the man's eyes flew open and he gasped, looking wildly around his cell. His eyes landed on her, and he drew in breath so suddenly he began to cough. He scrambled away from her and pressed himself against the wall, his palm slamming against the stonework for purchase.

"No….No! Go away! Leave me alone!" The man's voice cracked terribly.

He all but threw himself into the corner between the bars and the stone wall, pressing as far away as he could. Biting her lip, she reached out to him and tried to touch him to show she wasn't going to hit him. The flinch she got in response made her retract her hand, opting to approach him a lot slower. Slowly and cautiously she began to lean towards him. The closer she got, the tighter of a ball he curled himself into. By the time she placed a gentle hand on his head, he felt like a trembling human shaped stone. She kept her hand rested against his greasy head for awhile, waiting until he cautiously raised his head to look at her.

"See?" She called to him in her best quiet, soothing tone. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Liar," The man rasped, his body briefly wracked with coughs before he tucked his head back down.

Flynn frowned, thinking about what to do. Calling forth one of her stronger restoration spells, she let some of the warm light fall upon his head. He yelled aloud and cringed away quickly, before he seemed to realize that it didn't hurt and stared at the fading light in confusion. He looked around, probably for a way to escape. He began to stare at the open cell door. His eyes darting in between her and the open cell door, he suddenly lunged out of the cell, scrambling to his feet and trying to run away. He swayed to the left, collapsing against the brass levers nearby him before he collected himself, hobbling away as fast as he could. Eyeing his severely wounded leg, Flynn power-walked behind him, keeping him in sight as he desperately limped away. He only got up about half of the steps leading to the upper level of the Keep before his wounded leg gave out and he slammed his chin on one of the stairs. Crouching behind him, she watched him curl into a ball, waiting for a punishment. More coughs wracked his thin frame and he wheezed, gasping for breath.

"Alright, I'm not gonna lie," She patted his back, "that was kind of impressive. No, really, you got pretty damn far on a leg as fucked up as that one. Are you going to let me help you now?"

"Keep your filthy hands off me, you witch!" The man spat, the fear in his silver eyes taking the bite out of his words.

Pursing her lips, Flynn sprayed some healing magic over the man, who shouted in fear before looking confused again. She sprayed him with the magic once more, and once again, he shouted.

"Damn it, woman! Stop playing games with me and just kill me already!" The man's voice broke as he shouted in frustration.

"I'm not gonna." Flynn frowned at the tears that began to trickle down his dirty cheeks.

She suppressed the urge to brush the hair from his face, opting to stay a safe distance away to not frighten him more.

"What do you want from me!?" The man suppressed his own sobs as he screamed at her. "How long are you going to keep me in this gods forsaken place!?"

"I haven't kept you here."

"You expect me to believe that?!"

"Look around. There were a lot of other prisoners here. Where do you suppose they've all gone?" Flynn gestured downstairs.

The man looked around at the silent room, seeing the empty cells. His face went a ghostly white.

"You...you killed all of them?"

Flynn sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No. I let them go, dumbass. Think of all the mages who were here. Do I look like them? For Mara's sake, I'm wearing Ebony armor and I'm carrying two swords."

The man stared at her for a long, long time before he said, "You're...saving me?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"I'm...saved?" His voice began to sound weak.

"You are."

The man stared into her eyes for another minute or so, his arms trembling, until he passed out on the spot. Clucking her tongue, Flynn wormed an arm beneath his bony shoulders and hooked the crook of her elbow under his knees, lifting him easily. Judging by how light he was, he had been starved for awhile. She felt her heart ache for him, but she pushed the feeling away. Now was not the time to feel bad; she needed to take care of him first. Carefully making her way upstairs, Flynn look a left and exited the keep, making her way to a tiny pond that was to the left of the door. She unabashedly stripped the man's tattered, soiled clothes from his body, throwing the loin cloth to the side and incinerating the rest of the dirtied cloth. Grimacing at the grime and excrement smeared on his body, she carefully burned most of it away before she lowered him into the water, sending a silent apology to the fish swimming inside. Digging around in her bag, she found a block of soap and lathered it on an old rag, gently rubbing away all the dirt and gunk.

Once his body was clean, she doused his greasy hair with water, beginning to clean it gently. She scrubbed the faded war paint off of his face. Funny, he kind of looked like that man named Farkas she'd saved a while back. It wasn't him though; she distinctly remembered a thin scar running from Farkas's left shoulder to the bottom of his neck. The man below her leaned into her hands as they carded through his hair, massaging away all of the grease and grime. Brushing a hand on his cheek, Flynn felt how warm he was. Much too warm. Pressing her lips in a line, Flynn sighed. She'd have to stay with the man for a while in the Keep and heal him in portions. Judging by how severe some of his injuries looked, and how abnormally hot he felt, it'd probably take 3 or so days before he was able to go on the road with her.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Hold on. What do you mean by you had to heal him in a drawn out period of 3 days? Your potions are incredible, and your restoration magic is okay. What was stopping you from just healing him all at once?" Ysolda suddenly cut her off.

"Ah, I didn't tell you!" Flynn suddenly realized.

"Tell us what?"

"So, I've travelled a lot. I've come across a lot of people who've realized I was a healer of sorts, and told me about how they'd been healed in the past while telling me how honorable my path was. Well, as I've heard these stories, I've noticed a trend."

"And this trend would be?" Carlotta egged Flynn on expectantly.

"Soldiers who were near death and nursed back to health were often healed in a matter of a few hours by some skilled healers, or some people have obtained devastating injuries only to have them healed very quickly and suddenly. Thing is, after being injured for awhile, I noticed that my body kind of adjusts to it. By suddenly healing something devastating all at once, I've kind of gathered that it shocks the body a little. Hence why so many soldiers still feel phantom pain from long past injuries, or miners have bad legs after nasty falls." Flynn explained.

With every word, Hadvar, Ralof, Alfhild, and Eira looked even more mind-boggled.

"That makes sense!" Alfhild gasped, leaping to her feet. "I nearly got my arm cut off awhile back and it was healed just fine, but it still hurts like a bitch every now and then!"

"That's why my hip hurts so often!" Hadvar slapped his hands to his cheeks. "Stendarr's mercy, I'm an idiot!"

"By Talos, you must be right! No wonder I get all of these headaches!" Ralof looked like he wanted to slap himself.

"I shattered my elbow back in 198," Eira rubbed her left elbow, "I got it healed, but it's never been the same."

Carlotta looked kind of bewildered and stared up at Flynn. "Well, I'll be damned!" She shook her head incredulously. "Now you've said it, it suddenly makes so much sense!"

"Flynn, you're so smart." Ysolda smiled, slugging Flynn on the shoulder before retracting her hand with a tiny "ow".

"See? That's why I had to heal him in a drawn out period. Can I continue?"

"Yeah, keep going."

"Okay, so…"

After the man was cleaned off, she lifted him from the water and cast her flame cloak spell to dry him off. She let him lay in the grass for a while, digging through her bag for some men's clothes she kept on hand in case one of her favorite travelling buddies, Marcurio, ever decided to tag along with her. She knew his clothes would be too big for the man, but it'd be far better than nothing. Finding the clothes and laying them out, Flynn quickly cleaned the man's loincloth in the water, once again apologizing to the fish silently. Once cleaned enough, she dried the loin cloth off with some destruction magic and slid it up the man's legs. She quickly clothed him and, flicking a lady bug off of his face, she scooped him up once more. She roamed around the fort for a while, deciding the room closest to the main exit would probably be the best place for him to stay. Laying him on the straw bed, she lit a bunch of candles by conjuring a flame on her finger to make the room nice and bright. It took a little huffing and puffing, but she managed to drag a half-decent alchemy lab into the room, and cleaned up a little. She pushed a bunch of loose rocks into the half-assed bathroom, tinkered with the wardrobe and dresser, and swept all the dust and grime out of the room.

Pleased with her handiwork, Flynn checked on her charge. He felt warmer than before. Frowning, she pulled a mudcrab chitin she'd ripped off a mudcrab earlier that day out of her bag along with some vampire dust she harvested from some dead vampires. Using her favorite mortar and pestle, she ground the ingredients together and dumped them in the green goop in the middle of the alchemy lab. There was a quick puff of red tinted smoke before the green slime began to bubble. The small furnace burned over. Tinkering with the flame, she set it on low heat, before turning it back up a few minutes later. A light red liquid condensed in the beaker above it. Pressure forced the light red liquid to the next chamber where it churned vigorously, spiralling to the alembic. She toggled with the churning speed, alternating between fast and slow, keeping a watchful eyes as the light, unrefined red liquid languidly dripped from the alembic into the green goop. Slowly, a bright red liquid congealed on the top of the slime, and Flynn watched a small bottle emerge from the green, the red liquid sucked into it. Ah, that was her favorite part of alchemy; watching the exchange. Plucking the bottle from the green slime, she trotted over to the man's side, gently waking him.

"Hey." She called, stroking his hair. "Wake up, hun. I gotta get some potion into you."

The man moaned and leaned to her hand, blearily opening his eyes. He looked around the room, looking like he had no idea where the fuck he was. He seemed to feel safe though, considering he didn't start screaming.

"Tilma?" He called out to her.

Oh. He was delirious. Fantastic. Well, better play along.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Flynn put on her best motherly tone, running his thumb along his cheekbone.

"I don't...feel good." The man coughed. "My head hurts, I can't think."

Flynn frowned, shushing him quietly. "I know. It's okay, I'll take care of you."

"M'kay…" The man muttered, his eyes slipping shut.

"No...c'mon, stay awake long enough to drink this, will you? It'll help you feel better." Flynn tilted the small bottle to his lips, rubbing his cheek to keep him conscious.

The man whined in the back of his throat but parted his chapped lips enough for Flynn to tilt the potion into his mouth.

"Tastes sweet…" The man mumbled once he'd drank it all, falling back asleep.

Sighing, Flynn ran a hand through her hair and pulled a chair by his bed. Digging around in her bag, Flynn withdrew her satchel full of her alchemy ingredients. She needed to make a salve to saturate some bandage strips in so the man could heal faster. Thinking, Flynn decided that while ingredients with a healing property were a no-brainer, she'd add some stuff that could restore stamina so he wouldn't feel so tired, and some ingredients that could cure any infection that could have festered in his untreated injuries. It took some consideration, but she chose vampire dust, another mudcrab chitin, some blisterwort, 6 or 7 blue mountain flowers, a honeycomb, 4 or 5 purple mountain flowers, a torchbug thorax, and she decided to lace some wheat into it. It took her a long time, but she managed to mash it all into a paste with the aid of a watered down healing potion. She rubbed the paste on some bandage strips before tying them around some of the man's more severe wounds. The man shifted in his sleep a little, but stirred no more. For a drawn out period of 3 days, Flynn healed him in portions. During the afternoon on the third day, he woke up and looked around.

"Hey," She called softly, touching his hand.

He jumped and looked over at her, looking frightened and then confused, narrowing his eyes a little.

"Are we coherent today?"

He seemed to consider her words for a minute and eventually rasped, "Kind of. I can't see."

"I know. It's the fever and infection. One of your eyes got pretty fucked up, so I have it covered right now." She explained. "The other eye just isn't used to being open right now and it's clogged up with gunk. Your vision is going to be blurry for a couple more days."

"Not permanent?"

Flynn chuckled quietly. "Of course not."

"Good," The man sighed in relief.

"Are you hungry, or thirsty?" Flynn asked, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "Or both?"

"Both."

"Alright. I'll have to feed you like a child, sorry about that." Flynn shrugged. "You're probably too weak to lift your arms properly, much less without pain."

The man seemed kind of vaguely pissed off at this, but sighed, "Fair enough."

"Open your mouth. I've already got water here. Drink as much as you like, but slowly. I don't think you feel like throwing up water."

"I don't."

The man guzzled down half of her canteen and ate two bowls of some chicken soup she'd made by killing the asshole chicken outside of the keep before he fell back asleep. Deeming he was healed enough to be taken care of by the Priestesses of Kynareth, she began to pack up everything. Dumping the soup into another canteen (hopefully she could distinguish which canteen held the soup and which one held the water later), she smacked her alchemy ingredients into her alchemy satchel. Gods, was she glad that she'd splurged for a huge satchel to hold all of this. Collecting all of her candles, she threw those in her bag too, and soon enough she had everything packed up. Now, here was the convenient but completely ridiculous part...walking outside, she found a hand-pushed cart full of cabbages off to the side. Smiling, she took a minute to dramatically pick up each cabbage and hurl it at one of the crumbling stone walls before she wheeled the empty, covered cart into the fort. Retrieving her bedroll, she lined the wooden bottom of the cart with it along with other soft things before, while balancing the cart on her left hip, she gently lifted the man and placed him inside. His legs stuck out a little, so she bent his knees to force him into a fetal position before she donned her ebony armor, clipped her bag to her hip, swung her cloak over her neck, and pushed him out of the door.

It took 2 hours of pushing the man across the rocky tundra, but she got him to the big gates of Whiterun. Some guards took notice of her and called out for her to halt.

"What do you have there," The man looked her up and down and said, "Sir…?" with a note of confusion in his tone.

"Ma'am." She said, almost laughing but holding it back.

"Alright," The guard put hand behind his head and awkwardly rubbed his neck. "What do you have in there?"

"A man." She said simply. "He was being held hostage in Fellglow Keep, the big stone fort to the east of here. I cleared it out and freed a bunch of prisoners. He was the most injured, so I had to keep him there for awhile to allow him time to heal. I'm afraid I have to continue in my travels though, and he's in need of an actual half-decent bed."

The guard backed away and sputtered. "You! You're the woman who freed all of those people! Yeah, they came here just 3 days ago, and we've sent them home! We'll take it from here. I can't thank you enough, ma'am! You've done a great deed for our hold! Please, come with me to see the Jarl! I'm sure he'd love to know about this."

"I'm afraid that will have to wait, I have to move on."

"But-"

Flynn held up a hand and shook her head, silencing the guard. "Just make sure that man is taken care of. I'll return some other time. For now, I should go."

The guard sighed. "Very well, you can be on your way. Still, before you go, can I have your name?"

Thinking back to The Caller, Flynn decided to sound cool and said, "My name matters little. You may refer to me as the Ebony Maiden." And with that, she turned heel and walked away as the guard spluttered behind her at the recognition of her title.

"And that's the end?" Ralof asked, leaning forward.

"Yes."

"Y'know, we all heard about those prisoners from Fellglow Keep. We had no idea it was you." Hadvar shrugged. "In retrospect though, who else would it be? I can't think of anyone else in Skyrim who has as big of a death wish as you."

"Obviously you've never met any of the damn Companions." Carlotta elbowed Hadvar, taking a swig from her mug.

"Are you sure you've never met someone with a death wish as big as Flynn's?" Alfhild looked Hadvar in the eyes.

"Yeah."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes, I'm positive!"

Alfhild paused for a minute and, looking at each of her friends, said, "Then who the fuck did you meet in Helgen, because it sure as shit wasn't Ulfric Stormcloak!"

Oh, Flynn remembered this joke! She immediately reenacted Ulfric's shriek when that spider fell on him. Delphine jumped and blurted several curse words from across the room, followed by Eira spitting out her wine and laughing so hard she went red in the face. Ralof and Hadvar were next in joining in, falling over each other. Carlotta and Ysolda suddenly remembered Flynn telling the one story about Ulfric getting jumped by a spider and laughed too.

"Gods, Carlotta, Ysolda, you should've seen his face!" Hadvar roared with laughter.

Ralof imitated the face as best as he could, and Flynn just about fell out of her seat.

"I still can't look him in the eye without remembering and laughing whenever I go back to Windhelm," Alfhild wiped a mirthful tear out of the corner of her eye. "I don't think he's ever going to live that down."

"Me neither. I'm going to hold that above his head forever, and there's nothing he can do to stop me." Flynn huffed a laugh. "Except kill me."

"Ha! As if you can die. I have half the mind to think you're some sort of immortal daedra or some shit." Ysolda laughed, shaking her head.

"That's a legitimate theory, me 'nd Eira were discussing that the other day." Ralof nodded, trying and failing to hide a teasing smile.

"Oh, shut up. I could kill myself right now and prove you wrong."

"Don't do that, we like you." Eira muttered, slowly pulling Flynn's swords out of their sheathes. "Second thought, I'm just gonna take these…"

"Gimme my swords back, woman." Flynn rolled her eyes, plucking her swords out of Eira's hands and sheathing them.

Carlotta suddenly looked like she was deep in thought, and after a moment or two she looked at Flynn. "Hang on...you cleared out Fellglow Keep about 2 months ago, right? Because that was when all those prisoners came to Whiterun."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"That man you took care of...remember how you saved that man Farkas before you left to get stronger? Did the man you took care of look anything like him?"

"I….yeah. They had a strong resemblance, like I said earlier. The only difference is that Farkas had a scar from his shoulder to his neck, so it wasn't him."

Ysolda suddenly burst into laughter, realizing what Carlotta was getting at.

"Flynn, I think you saved Farkas's twin."

Flynn leapt to her feet. "I did!?"

"Yes! 3 weeks prior to when you returned him to Whiterun, he went missing! Gods, they were wheeling him into the city and Farkas was walking past. Oh, that poor man screamed like none other and couldn't stop crying. He was yelling for someone to get Danica, Kodlak, Skjor, or Aela." Carlotta told her, patting her on the arm.

"I was the one who ran and got Kodlak. He's the leader of the Companions, or something like it. He looked more frightened than I've ever seen him! It was kind of hot when he picked up Vilkas and started running, though." Ysolda giggled and blushed as Carlotta swatted at her.

"Douse that fire in your loins, woman!" Carlotta shook her head at Ysolda, before her expression morphed into one of sympathy. "Poor Vilkas, though. He looked so different. I can't imagine how Farkas recognized him immediately."

"Alright, so what I'm getting from this is that his name is Vilkas."

"Yeah."

"Is he okay? I never followed up on that."

"Yeah, he got back on his feet about 3 weeks after you brought him in. It would've been 2, but his friends fussed over him so much."

Flynn sighed in relief. "I'm glad he's alright, he had me a little worried. How are his eyes?"

"He can see just fine, he just has a scar from his left eye to his cheekbone. That's all. You did a very good job in healing him from what I heard. Danica and Arcadia were impressed with whoever had been healing him."

"I know who Arcadia is, but who's Danica? You've mentioned her twice."

"She's a priestess of Kynareth. Real sweet woman, and good friends with the twins from what I've seen. She was so concerned for Vilkas and, speaking of which, you should've seen how she fussed once Vilkas and Skjor brought Farkas back into the city! After you left and went on to become the badass Ebony Maiden, that is."

"How'd that go, anyway? How'd they find him?"

Ysolda and Carlotta shared a look at that and burst into laughter. "Oh, Skjor and Vilkas were pissed. Skjor is another Companion by the way, a war veteran. I don't think I told you who he was yet. Anyway, he's pretty kind, if not a little strict. Apparently, you went overkill with the wards, and the runes nearly killed Skjor." Ysolda shook her head, chuckling. "Farengar went to check out the wards and remaining runes actually. He was kind of impressed."

"Oh, really? Nice. I forgot the runes would hurt anyone breaching the area. Probably should've warned someone. How did the runes not kill him?"

"That's the funny bit. I don't think Skjor set it off. I think what happened is that there was a skeever that ran across one, setting it off right next to Skjor. Scared the Oblivion out of him, actually. I heard him yell from the whole other side of the city. I was wondering who in the name of Oblivion was screaming. It's a good thing the runes were set off though, otherwise they would've never found Farkas. The runes actually destroyed the majority of the wards. Apparently, they kept walking right past him!" Carlotta slapped Flynn on the shoulder, laughing. "From what I heard, they were wandering the tundra for 3 hours until they found him!"

Ale shot out of Hadvar's nose at that. "3 hours!?" He roared with laughter. "Oh, those idiots! Haha!"

"What I can't imagine," Eira huffed a laugh, taking a sip of her wine. "Is how Farkas slept through the runes exploding."

"He slept through the runes exploding!?" Alfhild looked bewildered at the mere prospect. "How in the name of Dibella's tits did he manage that?"

"I have no idea." Eira shook with laughter. "I think that's also what might've pissed Skjor and Vilkas off. Skjor had a near death experience and Farkas is just sitting there, snoozing like a fucking baby."

"Oh, yeah. I'd be pissed. Like, EXCUSE ME, I ALMOST DIED AND YOU'RE STILL NAPPING!" Carlotta laughed a little before she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "Anyway, they brought him back in the city and Danica starting fussing almost immediately. I'm sure the Jarl's children must've come whining down the stairs about how they'd be woken up too early because of Danica if Skjor's scream hadn't woken them up already." Carlotta shook her head, suddenly getting a thoughtful expression on her face. Y'know, I don't think Farkas knew it was you that saved him. He was telling the story the other day, and he described you as a tall, beautiful Redguard woman with striking silver eyes and long, black hair. He never actually said your name."

Flynn paused at that. "Well, I'm flattered he thought I was beautiful. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever told him my name."

"Well, now would be a good time." Carlotta hummed.

"Why now?"

"Flynn, come on. You've been all over Skyrim. You've done so much, and you're so strong now. But, you've yet to step foot in Whiterun since all that time ago!" Ysolda threw her mug at Flynn to convey her frustration.

"I almost did when I saved Vilkas's ass!" Flynn weakly defended, rubbing the spot on her arm where Ysolda's mug had collided.

Ysolda, in turn, shot her a rather deadened expression. "Mhm, that's great. You still didn't come in the walls. Let go of that stupid grudge you have against Farengar already! Surely you're strong enough now!"

Not strong enough.

"I'm not strong enough." Flynn bowed her head a little, hunching her shoulders lest Ysolda steal Ralof's mug and throw it at her too.

"Lady! Come on! You are totally strong enough! You're just making excuses."

Not strong enough.

'Fuck, not now,' Flynn thought to herself, "come on, I'm in a good mood. Why now?'

Suddenly, Ulfric's voice rang in her head. "Everyone is somebody."

Everyone is someone.

Dirty basement walls. She is nobody. No one at all. She does not matter. No one cares. She is no one.

Everybody is someone.

Dirty basement walls. She is all alone. There are glass shards all around her. They're thick enough to stab. Thick enough to kill. Thick enough to end it. She is nobody-

SHUT UP! SHE IS SOMEBODY, GODS DAMMIT! SNAP OUT OF IT!

Propelling herself back into reality, Flynn looked up to see her friends looking at her in concern. "Hey, you spaced out for a second there. You alright?"

No.

Flynn forced a smile on her face.

You fucking liar. Don't you dare. Say it. Stop being a coward. You are not fine.

"I'm good. I think I drank too much mead, I was just thinking about how I screamed at Farengar all that time ago."

Coward.

Ysolda sagged in relief. "Oh, thank Zenithar. I thought I'd offended you."

Get over yourself, Ishtar. Come on. You're not a weak little girl anymore. Give her what you know she wants.

"Nah, it's alright. I think you're right though. Maybe I should go back to Whiterun."

Good.

Carlotta and Ysolda visibly perked at that and starting laughing excitedly. "Oh! Gods be praised! Finally! You can walk with us and my daughter tomorrow!" Carlotta laughed, clapping her hands together. "Maybe we can hit the Inn and share a drink together! I'd love to show you around the city!"

"You can stay with me! Carlotta, don't make that face, I have an extra bed. You don't."

"Oh, shut up." Carlotta shook her head and rolled her eyes good-naturedly before yawning. "It's getting late, guys. We should probably turn in for the night if we don't want to wake up and have it be Sundas instead of Loredas."

"Good point, Carlotta." Ralof stretched his arms out, patting a dozing Eira on the cheek. "C'mon, let's get you home."

"Wha's goin' on?" Eira sleepily slurred, stretching out and rubbing her eye.

"We're all going home. C'mon, sleepy," Alfhild kicked Hadvar's chair out from under him.

"I wasn't sleeping!" He hissed sharply, rubbing his ass as he stood up.

"You were about to. Alright, I'm going home. Goodnight, guys."

"G'night, Alfhild." Ysolda yawned, shuffling to her room in the inn.

"I'll see you in the morning, Flynn. When I wake up, you better not have scampered off to, I dunno, Riften or something." Carlotta, playfully swatted Flynn on the shoulder before joining her daughter in her room in the Inn as well.

Damn, there went that plan. Flynn sat there alone for awhile, staring into the fire as she reminisced about the past. She wasn't sure what else she should do, other than sleep, which she didn't really want to do. Her body was screaming for rest, but her mind was not. And so, she just stared at the dancing flames, clenching and unclenching her fist.

"Hey, Flynn?" Orgnar called from the bar, startling her out of her own mind. "C'mere, lass."

"What is it, Orgnar?" Flynn asked, approaching the bar.

"Take a seat. Let's talk a little." Orgnar shrugged, lining the cleaned mugs on the shelf below the bar.

"What do you want to talk about?" Flynn sat at one of the barstools.

"You've spent a lot of time in Delphine and my bar. The way you froze like that a little bit ago before you agreed to go back to Whiterun wasn't like you. It wasn't...right. Are you sure you're fine?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it, Orgnar."

Orgnar looked up and his brown eyes pierced into her silver eyes for a long, long time.

"No."

"No, what?"

"Quit it. You're lying, and you know it. You're not fine."

He needed to stop doing that. Whenever she came to this Inn, he'd always stare at her, as if he were picking away every layer of her, trying to figure out who she was. He was a benevolent figure, always in the background but always standing out. He watched, she could tell. Fear began to prickle the back of her neck. Why was he able to read her as if she were letters on a page? Who even was he? Flynn clenched her teeth, feeling frustration and anger begin to boil underneath her skin. Who in the name of Oblivion was he to deem whether or not she was okay?!

"Orgnar, I am fine. F-I-N-E. You're just overthinking!"

Orgnar shook his head. "I know you. You're trying to cover how scared you are to admit it by feigning anger. Stop it, already. What's stopping you from admitting it?"

"Shut up!" Flynn leapt to her feet, slamming her hand on the bar. "I-you! You have no idea what you're even talking about!"

He stared at her again, locking her, chaining her in place with his eyes. Damn his eyes. Damn it all. Damn it all to Oblivion.

"Flynn isn't even your name, is it?"

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