Issana's head hurt far worse than she thought it would when she woke up the next morning. Her throat was parched and her body seemed to cry out in protest when she attempted to rise from bed. Damn. How much did I drink? She counted on her fingers. Two with Rune, then three more when he'd left, and then she'd called Wilhelm over… Things were a bit hazier after that.

She massaged her head gently and got up. The door to her room swung open as she leaned unsteadily against it and fumbled with the knob. Wilhelm looked up from his sweeping. "Well, well, look who it is. Surprised you're able to stand at all."

Issana shut her eyes against the bright light coming through the windows. "Believe me, I wish I was lying down. Where's Rune?"

"He left about an hour ago. Should be back soon."

Rune. Issana winced at the memory of last night. "Did he seem all right?"

Wilhelm looked confused. "Looked fine to me. Why? Did something happen?"

Issana nodded.

Wilhelm shrugged and returned to his sweeping. "Seemed fine to me. He was up early, had some breakfast and then went out for a morning walk while he waited for you. What-" He froze. "Oh! I see."

Issana's brows shot up. "No. No-no-no-no. That did not happen."

Wilhelm raised his hands placatingly. "It's all right. I won't mention it-"

"No!" Issana exclaimed. "Just-no! That didn't happen, all right? Gods!"

Wilhelm hastily returned his attention to the floor. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood."

"Just a little bit," Issana muttered.

The door to the inn swung open and Rune stepped inside. "You're up! It's about time."

Issana blinked at the light coming through the doorway and shaded her eyes. "Excuse me while I crawl back into bed and die there."

"Oh, no you don't," said Rune. "We're leaving today. You said it yourself. So go get ready to go and meet me outside."

Her headache hadn't lessened at all by the time she dragged herself out the door. Rune was waiting for her, sitting on boulder at the side of the road. "Ready?"

Issana tried to block out the sun with one hand. "I feel awful."

"I'll bet. Wilhelm told me how much you drank."

"I don't really want to think about that right now, if that's all right with you."

Rune rose and shouldered his pack. "You ready to go?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. Come on." He strode quickly and confidently away. Issana groaned but hoisted her pack up anyway and followed him.

It took four days to round the Throat of the World. The great mountain was separated from the northern half of the range by a wide gap, through which the White River wound its way north and east towards the ocean. Caravans and merchants with carts passed them frequently on the road; there were few paths between Skyrim's east and western halves, and this was certainly the safest.

"Maven didn't give you any indication what the job was going to be?"

Issana snorted. "No. She just told me to meet someone named Mallus Maccius in Whiterun."

"Do you have any guesses?"

"Yes, and they're all equally ridiculous."

It was six days out from Ivarstead that Issana finally saw Whiterun. It rose from the great plains upon a hill, its walls vast and the great keep of Dragonsreach shining in the evening sun. Issana felt her spirits soar-in a bitter, frustrated sort of way. "There it is," she said. "Finally."

"You didn't enjoy the trip?" Rune said with an insolent grin. "Two weeks of sleeping on the hard ground and carrying packs isn't your idea of fun? Never would have guessed."

"If you keep making fun of me, I'll leave you here."

"Nah, you enjoy my company too much."

Issana gave a little smile. Things didn't seem to have changed at all since their conversation in Ivarstead, and she was extremely grateful for it.

Rune picked up the pace. "Come on. We can make it there just after sunset if we hurry."

"And then an inn, a fire, something to drink, some hot food…" Issana sighed wistfully.

"And you get to find out what Maven sent you all this way for."

"That too." Issana gave the distant walls of Whiterun another look. "You know, I'm starting to think this is just her way of showing she's still the boss. Like this is just going to be some pathetic, joke of a job that's her way of telling the Guild she still owns them."

"Does it matter?" laughed Rune. "You still got paid. And you got an excuse to see beyond the Rift."

Issana looked over her shoulder towards the Throat of the World. Whatever that sense she'd had had seemed to wax and wane as the days passed. Sometimes she felt nothing, other times she felt…

She sighed in frustration. She didn't know what she felt.

The road took them through a collection of large farms and houses as it meandered slowly up towards Whiterun's gates. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon and it lit up the western sky ahead of them with crimson fire.

A deafening bellow thundered across the landscape. Issana looked around wildly as someone screamed. Issana leaped into a run, sprinting up the road towards the source of the noise.

Her jaw dropped as she rounded a corner. A monstrous man was lumbering through the cabbage field, absolutely enormous, maybe twelve or even fifteen feet high. His club was more like a young tree he'd uprooted than a weapon, and with a bestial roar he swung it over his head and slammed it into the ground.

A woman ran into the nearby farmhouse, screaming for help. Issana was still too stunned by the sight to move when three figures charged past her. A woman with warpaint streaking her face let an arrow fly but the giant hardly seemed to notice. It bellowed again and swung its club, forcing the two swordsmen to dive aside as the club burrowed into the ground.

They were on the giant in an instant. Steel flashed red in the sunset and the giant bellowed in agony. It hit the ground with a roar and bellowed as the swordsmen sprang at it, swords raised high.

And then there was silence. The three fighters lowered their weapons.

The painted woman turned towards Issana. "Well," she said, "that's taken care of. No thanks to you."

Issana frowned in confusion and glanced over her shoulder to see if the archer was talking to somebody else. "Me?"

"You see anyone else around?"

Issana raised her eyebrows. "You think-you think I should have helped?" She stared at the woman incredulously. "Do I look like I have a weapon?"

The two swordsmen appeared beside them. One was a burly man who had an unusual, almost wolflike hunger in his eyes, and the other was a shorter woman with dark hair. She was cleaning her sword. "Come now, Aela," she said. "If everyone in Skyrim wanted to fight, there wouldn't be much need for us, would there?"

"Ah," said Issana. "You're mercenaries."

Aela shot her a dirty look. "The Companions are not mercenaries. We trace our lineage back to Ysgramor himself, and we-"

"Shield-sister." The swordsman placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let it go. We should return to Jorrvaskr."

Issana hadn't noticed Rune coming up beside her as the three mercenaries turned back towards the city. He chuckled. "You really have a way with people, don't you?"

"What in Oblivion did I do?" Issana retorted. "How-not to mention why-am I supposed to take on something like that?" She pointed at the gigantic corpse.

"You don't need to convince me," said Rune. He gave the blood-stained body a quick look from where he stood. "Strange, giants don't usually come near villages."

"Who cares? I just want to get to the inn, preferably without getting yelled at by somebody else." She started up the road again. "There'll be plenty of yelling from Maven if I don't get this done soon."

"Or just a quick knife through the back," Rune added.

"Or that." Issana grunted in frustration. "This job had better be worth it."