DISCLAIMER: I do not own Skyrim. I own only the characters Ophelia Millais and Theldyn Mehra, among other OCs.
Thank you to those take the time to read my little story, and also to those who are kind enough to leave comments and reviews!
Part Two: Escape
Chapter Four: The Marque
Our magic lessons never came, sadly, for when the bandits weren't raiding, I was kept always at the chief's side. Since winter was rapidly approaching, and the band had more than enough to keep them fat and drunk through the many snowy months, the only raiding was for sport or women. So we stayed at our hideout. My misery in the camp increased exponentially when the bandits discovered boredom in idleness. The often lifted my skirts, groped me, or even pulled me to their stinking faces for a sloppy kiss. Other times they would treat me like a captive animal, tossing bones for me to fetch and threatening to cut me if I didn't, and sometimes even forced me to choke down raw meat - among other things. Theldyn was usually able to save me from this humiliation by saying that as her guard, it was his responsibility to keep me 'safe and unspoiled' for the chief. Or he just used his superior strength and wit to wrest me out of their grimy paws.
But when the chief 'joined in on the fun', Theldyn could do nothing. My master was a giant nord, a full head taller and much more muscular than the elf. The chief was a big brute with the strength and cleverness of an ox. He enjoyed power and was very prideful of himself, often boasting about how he led the most feared bandit gang in all of Eastmarch. He wasn't a handsome man, but at least his scarred, brutish face wasn't nearly as ugly as his rotten personality. Never in all my seventeen years had I met someone as impulsive, sadistic, and violent a person as the chief. It was not a rare occurrence that he would rape me before the rest of the band at the most random of times, such as while eating a meal or telling a story of some grand raid. He probably did it to exhibit his power over me and establish that he was the only one who had the right to touch me besides Theldyn, who kept me 'safe and unspoiled' for him.
Oh, I could've died of shame when he did that. Afterwards, I would look to Theldyn for solace, hungering for any kind of comfort from the only person that treated me anything like a fellow human being, only to have him look away in shame. He could do nothing, and would do nothing. I despaired and prayed each night to the divines for deliverance or for me to die swiftly in the morning or in my sleep. Soon, my desperate pleas to the gods were answered. I was surprised at how I was delivered from my personal hell, for it was so unexpected and indirect was it I didn't realize it at first.
When my monthly bleeding did not come one month, I thought it was due to my emaciation. But as four weeks rolled on by, and I did not bleed, I knew with a heavy heart that my master's child grew within me. At this newfound fact, the chief was elated that I would bear him a son, he was adamant about having a son, and bragged about it to his bandits. I, on the other hand, was not so joyful. All my life I had dreamed about getting married and having a family of my own. I had never imagined my firstborn to have been begotten by a bandit chief.
Even though my child was a bandit's child, something motherly and forgiving inside of me convinced me that the child inside of me was a gift and should be cherished as such. It mattered not who the father was. A need to protect the life in my womb arose in me.
So I told the chief that if he wanted his son to survive the pregnancy, and be a healthy and strong boy, I had to be treated gently and be given proper nutrition. Also, I forbade the chief from sleeping with me, for 'the baby needed privacy'. He knew no better, so he accepted my terms without hesitation and threatened to severely punish any man who would dare violate the terms. Thus I was allowed a little more dignity and comfort about the camp. I was still a slave and treated as such.
The night after my announcement, I woke up from my peaceful slumber (oh, how I missed a good sleep!) to find Theldyn crouched beside me. He touched his pointer finger to his lips and gestured me to follow him. Without disturbing the chief, I lifted his bulky arm off of me and crept silently out of the tent with the dunmer. We snuck past the slumbering sentry and made sure to extinguish his fire and the warm embers of his dying fire. When we were far away enough from the tents, he cast a spell about our feet that would keep us from leaving footprints in the snow.
When we were out of earshot and behind a shield of trees, I asked hopefully, "Are we escaping, Theldyn?"
He shook his head. In a barely audible whisper he replied, "I may be able to hide our footsteps, Ophelia, but I can't hide our scent. Chief Herbjørn's hounds could find us and they'd find us in a heartbeat on their horses." His face grew dark with hatred, "The only way we could possibly escape is if we kill them all." I shivered then, either from the chill winter breeze or Theldyn's casual way of talking about murder. Even if I wanted to kill my captors, I don't think I could ever actually take a life. When I was part of the Forsworn, I had worked as a healer, not a fighter. I knew basic defensive and stealth maneuvers, but little else about battle.
"Then can't we release the hounds and horses?" I said, confused as to why he would want to kill the bandits when he had spent the past twenty years of his life with them and alternative routes of escape were also available.
The elf shook his head. "No, there is no other way."
"Why?" I asked, started to grow suspicious of any ulterior motives he may have in his reasoning, "What is it you're not telling me?"
He looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes begging me not to ask further. When he saw that I would not waver, he sighed and began, to my surprise, stripped off his furs. I felt my face grow red as he did so, but did not stop him. He stopped after he had removed the top half of his furs to reveal his dark chest, upon which a strange mark was carved just above his heart. It looked as if it had been carved expertly into his flesh just recently, for instead of pink scar tissue, it was red and appeared inflamed. It was a circle with its prongs spiraling about the circle like thorns, with four of the prongs angling back to almost meet each other in the center in sort of a curved cross. These four prongs divided the circle into nearly equal quadrants. Between each of the outer prongs was a Daedric letter, winding about the circle until they met up again. I started at the top and made my way around, trying to see if they spelt anything I recognized. Seht, ekem, roht, vehk, iya, tayem, yoodt, doht, ekem. They spelt out 'Servitude'. Theldyn put his furs back on.
"That thing is what keeps me in the band," he said, not even wincing as the wound began bleeding slightly with the unwanted movement. He leaned against a tree and then looked off into the distance, but not really at anything in particular. "When I first joined the band in order to pay off my bounty and prove my innocence of my mother's murder, Herbjørn first saw my - let's say prowess in battle - he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. He promised me a full quarter of the loot we plundered if I would swear myself to him as his right hand man. I was only fourteen at the time, still a boy, and a foolish one at that. I accepted, lured in by the prospective gold." He tapped his chest with his finger. "So he hired a wizard to carve the marque into me twenty years ago, and to write up the document that validated the marque. Since Herbjørn has that document somewhere and thus owns my marque, he has full authority and control over me. I cannot rebel or fight against him until he is dead. But then, if he is dead, what's the point in fighting him?" He laughed bitterly. "Then, the one who killed my former master would inherit ownership of my marque. What a cruel fate I have thrown myself into..."
I had trouble swallowing what he told me. I had read of marques, but only those truly foolish and who knew nothing of magic would think them to be some strange form of contract. Yes, it was certainly a strange form of contract, but bound the one who bore the marque into whatever it specified. In Theldyn's case, he would forever be bound to serve whoever owned him until they or he died. If he disobeyed, the central prongs would converge and stop his heart. If he was obedient, the prongs would pivot back and recede into the rim of the circle. Had he really been stupid enough in his youth to unwittingly sell himself into eternal servitude? Either that or very, very desperate.
Theldyn, acknowledging my dumbstruck silence, continued. "So, I was thinking you could be my new master. I don't mind you, and you don't seem like a bad person. And I could protect you, after all, I'd have to."
"So I'd have to kill the chief?" Thinking realistically, could I do it? He was at least three heads taller than I was, and he must have twice my weight at least. Well, I could always poison him or kill him in his sleep, but even that I had my doubts about. Thinking about killing someone was easy, actually doing so was not.
"Yes." Theldyn said. He then looked in my eyes and clapped his hands onto my shoulders. "Ophelia, if you can free me from his control, I swear I will do everything in my power to protect you. I'll die if I have to."
I laughed bitterly. It wasn't because of friendship that he said that, but because of his marque. Everything he said and did for me in the past now had I new meaning... he was merely seeing if he would be more comfortable under my control. Could I not be human, even to him? Had I valued and respected him and called him my friend only to be regarded as a possible master? Something to serve mindlessly? I voiced this idea to him viciously, looking away and wiping tears away at the thought of his betrayal. I didn't want to be thought of as a thing to him and not a person as I had believed he knew I was.
"No, Ophelia," Theldyn whispered, gently touching his hand to my cheek, "you are my friend. If there is anyone I could trust with my life, it is you. You're such a kindly, wonderful woman, and no one I've ever known has been held more dearly in my heart." He abruptly pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head lightly. "Please believe me when I say that I'll protect you... not because my marque would force me to, but because I want to and would die for the chance. Because you are precious to me."
At that I broke down and wept, and Theldyn had to frantically and hastily cast a veil of silence around us to hide my racking sobs from the sleeping bandits. I clung to him as if he were my rock in a raging sea, and knew he was the only thing besides my unborn child that tied me to this life. As I cried into his chest, he held me tighter against him and whispered sweet words of comfort into my ear, trying to calm me down. At this I only cried harder, for even in his awful misery he sought to comfort me in mine, which seemed more like a luxurious haven in comparison.
"Theldyn," I managed to say through my tears, "I'll do my best to save you. Even if it takes my entire life, I swear I'll save you." We stood there for quite a while, under the trees and the aurora, before we went back to the camp. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, thinking of Theldyn.
Chapter Five: Freedom
The chief noticed how close Theldyn was to me and immediately changed my guard. Permanently. When the dunmer confronted him about it, the reply was, to say the least, dramatic.
"Why should you care, Mehra?" he said, sharpening his blade slowly with a stone. He glared up at the dark elf with sharp grey eyes. "She's nothing to you... or should be." He tossed away the stone and sheathed his sword. He said curtly, "Tell me, dark elf, have you followed in your father's footsteps and taken something that's not yours...?" I saw Theldyn's jaw clench in anger but no more. He crouched in his usual spot, gazing at the fire he had made with his usual stoic expression. "Have you?" The chief scowled and threw his tankard at the dark elf. Its contents, a perfectly good mug of Black-Briar mead, splashed all over Theldyn. Still, the elf said nothing.
I frowned and tugged the chief's elbow. "Theldyn hasn't done anything to me." My reply from him came in the form of a slap across the mouth. The chief's anger, evidently, was now directed at me.
"Speak only when you are spoken to, wench!" I fell silent and held my smarting cheek. The chief could gut me right then and there if he wanted to; I would provoke him no further. Theldyn was on his own in this fight, but he couldn't even fight back. Quickly, I glanced at him. He was wiping droplets of mead off of his furs. Even from where I sat, I could smell the stink of the stuff on him. But as I examined him, I could see his mouth twitch ever so slightly in anger... most likely at my abuse. The chief looked between us and barked, "Mehra! Just what have you done to my woman?"
Theldyn scowled at the chief with fire in his eyes. "Nothing," he said with a sigh, managing to calm himself down. As if nothing at all happened, he squatted by the fire once more and began poking at it with a twig. With a slightly bitter tone in his voice, "Herbjørn, you know as well as I do that I could never lie to you even if my life depended on it."
The chief spat through his yellowed teeth a glob of blackish spittle at the back of the dunmer's head. "Face me when I'm talking to you, dark elf." Theldyn turned to the chief, his face completely devoid of any sign of anger. The chief grabbed the elf by the collar of his furs, staring into his eyes. "Tell. Me. What. You've. Done. To. Her. You. Elf. Swine." He drew his freshly sharpened blade and held it to the dunmer's throat. "I know you've done something to her, don't lie to me now."
The other bandits, entertained by the quarrel, had gathered in a ring about the chief and elf. One of them shouted to the chief, "Boss! I dun seen 'em run off into the woods together!" I blinked, thinking back of how Theldyn and I had been discreet about our secret meeting. Evidently not. They then began shouting accusations at us, some were true while others were not. "They wanna run off together!" "I heard at night, goin' at it in the woods... believe me, they're loud as a howlin' wolf! I can't believe the rest of you ain't heard 'em..." "While the rest of us is gone... they been talking about escaping together."
"Boss! I heard them schemin' in the woods about wanting to kill you an' the rest of us!"
Theldyn blanched at this, and scrambled away from the chief. It mattered not what was truth and what was lies, the chief was fuming. He believed it all. "You're not supposed to touch other people's property, you know." The chief drew his sword's twin from its sheath and slowly stepped towards Theldyn. I blinked in astonishment. Was the chief really going to fight [and kill] his comrade and servant for a camp whore he had to wrestle and drag screaming to his tent every night? If Theldyn's life weren't in danger, I would probably be making a snide comment as to how much of a brutish idiot the chief was.
Theldyn was surprised as well. He held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to and not physically able fight. Ignoring Theldyn's surrender, the chief then charged him, slashing out at the dunmer with his blades. He cried out when they opened a large red 'X' in his side, and fell groaning in agony to the dirt. I heard myself scream, and I jumped to help my friend only to be yanked back by the hair. I looked back to find a smirking bandit grasping my knotted hair in his grubby hand.
"Let me go!" I shrieked, thrashing and squirming as I tried to wrench myself away from him. Desperately, I threw my hands back behind me and groped along his thigh for the knife I knew was there. He froze for a second, confused as to why my hands were running up and down his legs. In that second I was able to snatch his knife and slash it through my hair. I whirled around and felt my newly cut hair fall to just above my shoulders, jagged and uneven. Brandishing my knife at the bandit, he slowly backed away. While the threat was temporarily gone, I snuck up behind the bandit chief and plunged my knife into his back before he could land another blow on Theldyn, its sharp edge gliding through his flesh as easily as if I had been slicing butter.
With a sickening gurgle, he fell to the ground and was still.
I stared at the chief, and then at my bloodied knife. A droplet slid down the blade and onto my shaking hand. The feel was alien to me, for I had never killed before. As I watched that little bead of blood roll down my hand, the world seemed to spin and swirl before me. I had killed a man. Hadn't he just been defending me, his property? Or, had he even loved me, thus attacking Theldyn in a jealous rage?
I remembered that even just a few days ago, I had wanted nothing more than to kill him with my own bare hands and free Theldyn. The memory of this dark desire sickened me. Although I had been with the Forsworn, I had lived among them as a healer, not a fighter. And I never thought that I would never be able to free Theldyn. Before today, I had never killed before. I didn't want to have to do it again.
But now was not the time to dwell in my sorrows. I bent over Theldyn, who tried in vain to stop the bleeding with his shaking, frantic hands. With tears in my eyes, I said quietly, "I told you I'd be the death of you." I gently moved his hands away from his wounds and whispered a prayer to Mara. Golden light spilled from my hands and soaked into the deep gashes in the dunmer's side. He let out a sigh of relief as his wounds began to heal themselves. But before I could completely close his wounds, I heard a cry behind me.
"Boss...!" one bandit managed to cry out after so long a stunned silence. I turned to him and whipped my knife in front of me in defense. The bandit scrambled for the axe at his side and pointed at me, "You're dead, bitch!" When he rushed at me, I instinctively ran towards him as well, my body remembering how to fight while my brain stood at a standstill. My aggressiveness startled the bandit, thus making him swing his axe too late. As his ax bit itself into my right shoulder, I felt the bandit run straight into my little knife, his momentum wedging the blade deep between his ribs. He looked up at me and coughed up blood, some of it spattering on my face. When he slumped over and died, the thin blade snapped cleanly off at the hilt.
He fell into the now bloody mud and slush.
The remaining bandits stared at me and their fallen comrade. They must have been wondering how such a small, pregnant Breton slave girl could have possibly taken down two large nord killing machines single-handedly. When they looked back at me, I shivered as I saw the extent of malice directed towards me. With a pained groan I pulled the axe out of my shoulder and wielded it awkwardly in my left hand. Although I was quite skilled in weaponry and two-weapon fighting, my left hand was still considerably weaker than my dominant right, now rendered useless. Also, I had used daggers when I practiced, at most swords. I had never before wielded something as heavy as an axe.
Theldyn stood up shakily, his wounds partly healed but still extant, and pulled the axe from my hand and whipped out his own. "My lady, if I may." Before I could respond, he was lashing out at the bandits, hacking away wildly at them as if he had gone berserk. The bandits had already drawn their weapons, and were able to land a few hits on him before they were mowed down by Theldyn's whirling axes.
After the bandits had fallen, he turned to me and smiled weakly. He was soaked in blood, both his own and that of the bandits. Cuts and gashes criss-crossed his body, and his furs were in ribbons along with some parts of his skin. The furs that had covered his chest had long come off, and his marque could be seen. The central prongs had receded completely into the circle, and the lines were no longer bloody and inflamed, but was now the pinkish hue of scar tissue. Having no more need to keep his hold on his axes, they dropped to the ground and sank slightly into the mushy ground.
"Ophelia," he said quietly, carefully, "I'm free!" He sank to his hands and knees, crying out from the impact and the mud entering his wounds. But the pain was soon forgotten in his elation. He fell then to his stomach and laughed giddily, grabbing handfuls of mud and snow and throwing them about as if they were precious jewels and gemstones. "I'm free, free, free!" I rushed to his side and quickly healed his wounds, which he was even more thankful for. Before I finished, however, he stopped me. "Please, let them heal by themselves. I want to keep the scars from this moment." He rolled on his back and smiled up at me, his face and body completely covered in mud. "I want to remember how I fought for my freedom, and show everyone that I fought for it."
I shook my head, not understanding his logic. "Are you sure? They could get infected if they aren't treated, with all your rolling around in the muck... and... a-and..." I looked around at the carnage we had caused and tried my best to keep my meager breakfast down. The bandits I had killed had been killed cleanly and humanely, while the ones that had the misfortune to meet Theldyn's crazed and deadly dance had been literraly hacked to pieces. Some of the corpses - no, carcasses - were quite damaged. One had an arm hacked off at the elbow while another's head was half attached to its shoulders. Yet another one had been swung at so many times he was rendered unrecognizable.
"Theldyn," I said, looking away from the bandits, "I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."
He stood and nodded, still smiling. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll gather us some supplies and some horses right away." I hoped that Theldyn was doing this as my friend, but I could not help that he acted this way because of his marque. So with mixed feelings I stepped over the bodies and puddles of blood and snow and mud. When I crossed over the chief's body, I felt something materialize in my hand. I looked down and saw a piece of black parchment, with jagged calligraphy in a strange red ink. But as I looked at it, I knew it was not written in ink, but in Theldyn's blood. I shoved the parchment in my boot, and continued on. I knew as soon as I saw it that I hated that parchment and his marque.
I didn't want a servant, I wanted a friend.
Chapter Six: Birds of a Feather
I had insisted, after we had packed our supplies, that we (by we I meant Theldyn) do something about the bodies of the bandits. Even though I had hated them for what they had done to me, I did not want their bodies to be half-devoured by carrion birds and then stumbled upon by some poor traveler. Also, the sight of their broken corpses sprawled out in pools of dirty slush and blood made the contents of my stomach come up more than once.
Seeing that I would be of no help, Theldyn piled the bodies in the center of the camp along with the spare supplies we couldn't pack. He threw chairs, tents, bedrolls, and spare crates of food onto the bodies as well. I didn't understand his intentions.
Taking care not to look at the heap, I asked, "What are you doing? You should just leave them."
He replied curtly, "We can't let another bandit group have all these supplies. Leaving an empty camp in such a strategic position is downright idiotic." I fell silent at this, and waited until he had finished doing whatever he was doing with the corpses. When I smelled smoke and felt it burn my eyes, I whirled around to see the source of it. The giant pile of bodies and paraphernalia had evidently been ignited with a flash of Theldyn's hands. It crackled and roared like a lightning storm.
For one reason or another, I was unable to look away from the blaze, and my eyes were locked on the sightless, cloudy eyes of Herbjørn. The fire licked away at his skin, eating it away slowly as if slowly enjoying a spectacular meal. As it picked away at him and the others, their pale skin was replaced with slowly blackening red-pink muscles and innards. Oh, how gruesome it was, as I watched those eyes that I had grown to know and hate ever so much melt right out of his skull. The stench from the burning corpses wafted up from the magicked flames and drifted across the camp, filling the place with an ominous, horrid feel of death. The wretched smell filled my nose and mouth even when I covered them with my hands, and overwhelmed them with the smell and taste of torched flesh. Even though nothing was in my stomach anymore, I doubled over and retched.
The world around me spun, and the colors around me no longer had shapes. Everything was as if an artist had thrown all of his oils upon the canvas in a wild rage, and the canvas before me was now just a jumbled mess of conflicting color. As my head spun and attempted to find itself again, my legs wobbled and shook as if my bones had vanished. When I finally managed to regain my balance, I was still quite woozy. I made sure to avert my eyes from the fire.
Theldyn, seeing my pitiful state, quickly made his magical fire burn brighter and hotter, until it quickly incinerated the bodies and spare supplies into nothingness. A pile of ash lay where the heap once was, and he quickly scattered it with a summoned wind.
"Is that better?" He said, walking over to me and leaning me against him. "They're gone now." I nodded dumbly. The staring faces of the dead bandits had burned themselves into my brain, and every time I blinked, their burning faces would appear. Faces black and cracked as charcoal, staring at me with an unshakeable and unconditional hate brimming from their eyeless sockets. In death, their spirits now haunted me and wished the same fate that had befallen them onto me. Their loathing seemed to seep into me and burn me from the inside out.
I buried my face into his chest and wept, for I knew that those hateful bandits would likely plague me for the rest of my life. As I cried he smoothed my jagged hair and whispered sweet, comforting things into my ear.
Before I regained my senses however, our solitude was interrupted by people I had never seen before. I could tell by their attire and the picks at their side that they were miners from the nearby Goldenrock Mine. They most likely came to investigate what had caused the great column of smoke. When they saw us, they froze. We must have been quite a startling sight, for a bloody dunmer man in bandit furs holding a sobbing woman in his arms wasn't something you saw everyday. And especially a dunmer bandit with the eyes of a Nord.
One of the miners reached for a pick at his side. Theldyn glanced at them through the corner of his eerie blue eyes and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, he had not realized his funeral pyre would attract a crowd.
As he looked them over, the miners paled and stepped back warily. The miners looked like trapped animals under Theldyn's cool gaze. One of them suddenly turned around and ran back from whence she had come, wailing something a butcher. Others scrambled for their picks, but when their shaking hands could not find them in their panic, they followed the woman's example and fled.
I looked up at Theldyn for an explanation of this odd event. But when I saw him I knew instantly I wouldn't get one. He was looking straight ahead at where the bandits were, his eyes unblinking and large.
Oh Gods have mercy.
"They're getting the guards," Theldyn groaned. "We have to run. Now." We heard shouting, so we ran. In our flight we forgot our horses and supplies.
I was half-led, half-dragged by my wrist through trees and streams and piles of rocks that were completely alien to me. Like deer fleeing from a pack of starved wolves, we dodged and leaped over branches and brambles as we ran for our lives. Seconds blended into minutes and minutes into hours. Whether it was for a few minutes or for a few hours, I didn't know how long we ran. My lungs felt like they were going to explode, and my shoulder wound split open with a rip. I bit back a yelp and tried to keep going. I couldn't afford to slow down, even if my arm would come completely off. So I continued running, my arm swinging uselessly at my side, until I tripped over a root and fell flat on my face. I tried to push myself up to no avail. I felt like a turtle stuck on its back.
With a slightly aggravated groan, Theldyn swept me into his arms and carried me the rest of the way. I could tell his wound had reopened as well, for fresh blood had seeped through his furs and sweat spilled down his face from the effort of carrying me. After what felt like hours of running, we came across a large waterfall. On the side of the cascading water was what looked like a strange, splotch-like mark. On closer inspection it had an uncanny resemblance to Theldyn's marque.
Theldyn set me down onto my feet and weakly waved his hand to dispel whatever enchantment he had placed on the rocks to hide it, revealing a small break in the rock."Go!" he panted, "Into the cave!" He fell to his knees and caught himself with his right arm, sending a jolt of pain up from his side. From this he fell to the ground and moaned, holding a hand to his bleeding wound. He could not move. With my good arm I pulled the injured elf in with me. The entrance was small, but we managed to get through after a lot of squirming and quite a bit of tugging. Inside the cave it was as dark as pitch, and I thanked the divines for it. If the guards had chased us so far, and they hunted us, they should not think to look in a dark hole that could barely fit a large skeever. At least that is what I hoped.
Although the darkness calmed me somewhat, I held onto Theldyn desperately as I strained to hear the pounding of feet that would inevitably come. But I could not hear anything outside of the cave because of the pounding of the falls. It wasn't an overwhelming roar inside of the little cavern, even though the falls were quite large and very loud on the other side. I believed Theldyn had placed an enchantment on the cave at one time, to conceal his presence.
After a few moments of silence, Theldyn whispered to me, "Ophelia. You're hurting me. Please... please let go." As I had waited for our imminent doom, I had clung tighter and tighter to the injured elf with my good arm until I had nearly suffocated him. Embarrassed, I released him. "Thank you..." he gasped. "And... can you heal me again? My side is killing me..."
I pressed a hand to my bloody shoulder and willed it to mend until it was somewhat functional again. A scar would undoubtedly form, but that didn't matter just now. I reached out for Theldyn, who had moved somewhat, until I found the blood-soaked furs on his right side. His wound had reopened, and as I explored his body for additional injuries, I found that a deep gouge had found its way into his back. I remembered ashamedly that in my panic and I forced Theldyn through a hole that was much too small for him.
Using my remaining strength and whispering a desperate prayer to the Divines, I forced the torn muscles to stitch themselves back together a tad bit too quickly. He sighed in relief as the bleeding stopped and he could move again. Although I could speed up the healing process, it used up a large portion, if not all, of my magicka, so I could not completely mend him. He would need at least three days of rest before he should get back on his feet.
"Thank you." He touched a shaky, bloody hand to my cheek. "Thank you..." Relieved that he would be okay and more than appreciative about what he had done for me, I held his hand to my face and smiled. Joy overwhelmed me. For the moment, we were alive. We were safe. We were free. Life couldn't possibly feel better.
Suddenly, the darkness was devoured by a small little star, floating just above Theldyn. He let his hand fall after he cast the spell and laughed weakly at the light. His face was covered in sweat and dirt, but he smiled warmly when he looked at me. It was as if nothing was amiss, and nothing at all was wrong in the world. He smiled so beautifully, I almost forgot that we were injured in a cave hiding from guards that would kill us without hesitation.
But as my mind began to wander, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up as the shouts of guards permeated the roar of the falls. I immediately ceased all movement and held my breath. Even though the falls would [hopefully] mask the sound of our labored breathing, I couldn't afford the risk. Theldyn attempted to extinguish the little star, but he hadn't the strength.
"Sonja, there's a hole over here. Think he could've hidden in it?" I heard one of the guards say.
The other guard grunted in disgust. "Look at the marks on the ground. Some stinking skeever just shoved himself in there. Look, you can see how he dragged his fat belly into it... Ralof, I could've sworn I saw him run that way."
"Look, you numbskull! There's blood on the dirt! The elf had to have gone through there. Not some skeever..." I gasped then, and winced as I slapped my hand to my mouth to silence myself. But it was too late. The guards had heard.
"What was that? It sounded like a woman!" I heard a sword being drawn. "He has a hostage!" My mind was frantic, in my stupidity I had revealed that I was alive in the hole. And in the guards' mind, I was the hostage and soon-to-be victim of a psychotic mass murderer. "Release her, Butcher!" I failed to see the logic behind their threats, for I was I was in a position in which I was apparently in the hands of someone who could kill me without remorse nor hesitation. If they weren't looking to kill Theldyn on sight, I would've been more than grateful for their heroics.
"No! The butcher isn't here!" I blurted with a sob, not knowing what else to say.
"Ma'am," said one of the guards, Sonja I believe her name was, "You don't have to listen to what he says, we'll get you out of there in the blink of an eye! We'll save you from him!"
I had gotten myself stuck, and I desperately fumbled for anything that could save me and Theldyn. "No, the butcher isn't here! It's just me and my fiancé... we were captured by bandits on our way to Riften to get married. They tortured Gunnar and me... but we managed to escape. We hid here but the entrance caved in. Gunnar got hit by a rock and he's unconscious." I threw my bloody hand out of the hole and waved it as proof. "We can't get out!"
"Ophelia!" Theldyn grabbed my ankle and hissed at me, "By Oblivion, that's the stupidest and most unbelievable story I've ever heard! And besides, even if they do believe you, Gunnar's a Nord's name! Do I look like a Nord to you?" I bit my lip. In my frantic search for an alias I had said the first name that came to my mind. Theldyn didn't look anything like a Nord, even as a Nord-dunmer cross. Only his bright blue eyes betrayed his Nord blood. If the guards indeed rescued us, they would see their blue-eyed Butcher.
"Oh... well... don't worry ma'am! We'll get you out of there as soon as possible!" The guards began trying to heave the boulders from the entrance.
I swallowed nervously and looked to Theldyn for help while they toiled to 'rescue' us. He groaned and pointed weakly to the far edge of the cavern. "This used to be my secret hideout. There's a small library of spell tomes near the far end of the tavern. I know you know Restoration, but do you know anything about Illusion spells?" I knew the rudimentary spells, such as slight of hand tricks, but not much else. At what I knew I was good at, but Theldyn's complex and elaborate spells were out of my league. I was but a simple healer and physician, not a battlemage like Theldyn was. I informed him of the extent of my skills, and he sighed. "Well get moving. Those guards will probably get those rocks out of the way in a few minutes. Bring me all the books with the symbol of illusion on their covers as you can find. One of them is bound to be the one we need..."
I went to where he had pointed and found that his 'small library' was in actuality a vast collection of many, many books. Knowing his previous occupation, I did not want to know how many mages had "thrown themselves upon his axe" in order to obtain so many tomes. Not even looking at their covers or spines, I pulled an armful from the stone shelves and dropped them next to Theldyn. He scowled at what I had done and began glancing at the books one by one, paging through them. He had me return to the books thrice more until he found the one he was looking for. In this, he flipped through the pages rapidly as he read the spell over with inhuman speed. Once he was done, he snapped the book shut.
"Help me stand up." He said.
"But your wounds..."
"Damn them to Oblivion, Ophelia! Help me up!" he growled. I helped him up and leaned him against me. Wasting no time, he began drawing strange symbols in the air with his fingers, leaving a glowing trail of magic behind. When several strange runes were drawn, he wafted his hand through them neatly in a row. Suddenly, Theldyn wasn't Theldyn anymore. Leaning against me was a bloodied fair Nord man, lightly bearded and clad in a rough linen tunic. Looking at the small mountain of books, he flicked his fingers and sent them all flying back into their respective spots on the shelves. After doing this spectacular display of high-level magic, he sighed wearily and he slumped in my arms.
He looked up at me weakly and smiled. "Ophelia, here they come. Be strong for me." He closed his eyes and fell prey to his exhaustion. I held him tightly, just in case his spell-disguise broke. On more than one occasion he had saved me from certain death. So now, as the soldiers began to penetrate our stone barrier, I clutched his body close to my breast and clenched my jaw in defiance. The only way those damned guards could take Theldyn was over my dead body.
While we had frantically attempted to hide Theldyn's true identity, the soldiers had managed to move some of the boulders, but the cave had still been dark and inaccessible. Now, the last great stone was loosed out of place and rolled into the river. Two Eastmarch guards stood in the entrance, sunlight gleaming behind them and shadowing their faces.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" the one named Ralof said, removing his helm and kneeling down to me. I recoiled from his closeness and buried my face in Nord-Theldyn's hair to try and hide myself from him. "It's okay... it's okay. Don't worry, you're safe now." He looked at the man in my arms and touched his neck. His eyes widened and he barked to his companion, "We have to get this man to a healer now!"