Authors note: hey thank you all for still reading, I thought you would have given up on me by now. The story may stop for a while as I have exams in May and June but it will be back in full swing after they are done and I hope to write a lot more. I would also like to apologies for my spelling of Aela I was spelling it entirely wrong and thank you for pointing that out to me.

Battle mage

Chapter 5- thank the divines

Six bottles of mead later and Skjor was practically asleep on the table. Zofie smirked as he inspected the grooves on the table, his drunken mind making him think that they were war plans of the enemy in code ready to be deciphered. He would occasionally raise an eyebrow and say something like "they will sweep in from the right but we will place scouts in the trees to pick them off." Zofie would then giggle and shake her head at him, causing him to snort out "what's so funny, have your mage eyes seen something that I have not?" The only thing that kept in common with his ramblings where they all held the slight slur of a drunken nord, who would yet continue to drink until he passed out.

The mage then realized that this would not be a good look for a companion circle member; so, summoning all of her strength, she rose from her seat and tugged at her uncle who, even for her strength, was far too heavy to even budge. She pulled even more and he didn't move from examining his tabletop invisible battle plans. "Come on uncle," her voice was amused but firm "I think another bottle of mead isn't one of your best ideas." The older nord simply laughed and pointed at, what he thought was, Zofie but was actually a rather confused barmaid instead. The young mage waved her off and tried to get her uncle to stand again, with little success.

"So my little snowberry you never told me why you and Aela stopped writing" the old nord rambled drunkenly, more to himself than his niece. Her face faltered slightly as she brushed his comment off, focusing more on getting him away from another bottle of mead. "I mean it lass. What happened?" Skjor looked up at her trying as best as he could to keep a straight serious face, very hard for him whilst hammered. Smirking the girl raised an eyebrow, "I'll tell you uncle, back at the hall!"

The older man smiled and threw up his hands as the young girls smirk grew into a huge grin and her steel grey eyes softened. "Fine, let's go then." However due to her uncles legs being controlled by alcohol he managed to stand up and walk two whole steps before tripping over his own feet and going straight into a barmaid carrying a bottle of black-briar mead all the way from Riften. Cursing in an older and forgotten language, she had studied one particularly lonely year at the college, she jumped forward to catch the expensive bottle. Skjor however went flying across the room and landed face down on the floor with all the grace of a rock, how fitting for a companion.

It was probably not a great idea to throw herself at the bottle when magic would have done the trick but the stonehearted mage had had enough criticism and odd looks for one day. She especially didn't want to be banned from the only tavern in Whiterun. That would certainly not do. So in a frantic attempt to catch this bottle the girl threw herself over her uncle, slid along the floor, reached for it, followed it with her eyes and finally caught it.

While Zofie slumped up against the wall of the inn, relieved at her good catch, the barmaid, who had been knocked over by her uncle and had picked herself up at some point, stomped over to her and took the bottle and left to serve it adding "take him away please." Zofie nodded and thanked the divines that there was hardly anyone in the inn at this point and most of them hadn't really noticed their little accident. Picking herself up she took a couple of steps towards her drunken uncle, who at this point believed that the floor was his bed.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she examined the great feared warrior lying sprawled across the floor. It would have proved great blackmail material if there were others there, but you had to have friends to sit in an inn with you, a little nagging voice in her head reminded her. She shook it off, as she focused on her larger and certainly more pressing problem. She tried to wake her uncle but no matter what she did he was fast asleep; so the young mage, with a slight chuckle, proceeded to channel her magical energy through to her uncle so that he started to gently rise from the floor and levitate behind Zofie. He was definitely a lot heavier than she had expected and she could feel a slight weight on her shoulders as she carried him for longer.

They left the bannered mare and she levitated him all the way up to Jorrvaskr, despite her aching shoulders and back at the weight of the levitation spell. Once inside the hall she thanked the divines that there was no one in sight. Quietly, she took him to the lower quarters and tucked her uncle in his bed.

All in all the divines had smiled upon her today, she had been allowed into the companions, she had beaten one of them in hand to hand combat, she had managed a nice evening with her uncle and she hadn't had to run into Aela all day… until now.

The huntress was lent against her door staring at the nord with an icy cold demeanor. It was odd she was stiff and yet totally relaxed lent up against the doorframe. The look they exchanged was brief and awkward, neither one said anything, neither one wanted to. Their looks said enough. They would not be going on that hunting trip anytime soon. Zofie was the first to leave, nodding briefly as she walked away into the group sleeping area. Flopping on the nearest bed she screwed her eyes shut hoping the huntress wouldn't try to pursue their inevitable conversation.

A nod is that all I get? Aela's thoughts kept asking after all those letters and years and time I get a nod? Anger and pain caused her stomach to tighten and she turned back into her room shutting the door behind her for pursuing this dream was a lost cause.