Joi woke, warm for the first time since they had left Whiterun. The one thing she hated most about Skyrim was how cold it always seemed to be. She opened her eyes, greeted with the familiar sight of a room in the Frozen Hearth.
Faendal was sitting at the table in the room, his head resting on his arm in what seemed like a rather uncomfortable position. Joi smiled and gently draped the blanket over his shoulders. He hummed in his sleep, stirring softly as she tiptoed out of the room.
"Morning, Dagur," Joi said cheerfully.
"Mm," he grunted in greeting. That was about as friendly as he got. All things considered, she probably deserved it, magical comets flying around scaring the living daylights out of people had partially been her fault. She had found the Eye of Magnus that had caused Ancana to finally lose his cool.
Not that he didn't have it coming to him, she thought. Even after he had paralyzed Tolfdir and tried to kill her, she still felt pity for the Altmer mage. Pity that he had never found peace, or a reason to live outside the clutches of the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion. Pity that the talent he possessed had been wasted on revenge and greed.
Joi shivered self-consciously and bought some leftover horker loaves, two apples and a fresh bottle of nord mead for breakfast, munching thoughtfully on the sweet red fruit while she stared into the fire, patiently waited for her companion to awaken.