She lifted the amulet out of the chest, recognising the symbol of Mara on its front as the same symbol in the temple at Riften. Goddess of Love and Marriage, the priestess had said, when she'd returned to check on Farkas.

The Companion had gone back to Whiterun - before he was fully recovered, of course. He would always believe the beast blood made him capable of more than he truly was, and now that he didn't have it any more... He would make it back, and probably collapse, and have to be nursed back to health by the other companions. But they would praise his stupidity as bravery and she couldn't find it in her heart to begrudge him that.

"What have you got there?"

Marcurio poked his head over her shoulder, having no idea how his proximity made her hands itch towards her hammer. He truly didn't understand how tight her senses were wound - dragonborn, beastblood, beserker rage… all took their tolls and the mage was risking his very life being in the same room with her.

"Some sort of amulet," she said, tossing it to him. "Restoration enhancement, from what I can feel."

He caught it and looked at it, a small smile on his face that told her she'd missed something. He liked it when she missed things. It gave him a chance to educate her. She felt her nostrils flare involuntarily.

"It's an amulet of Mara," he said.

She nodded. "It's got her symbol on it."

He snorted. "I forget that you're not from Skyrim," he said, twirling the thing in his fingers. "You don't know what they're for, do you?"

"I suspect you're going to tell me."

"They're for marriage," he said, dangling it in front of him.

She looked at him and waited.

"If you want to get married, if you're… in the market, so to speak… you wear one of these. And then people know, and can ask you."

"Seems straightforward enough," she said, getting to her feet and dusting off her knees. She held out her hand for the amulet, and he placed it in her palm. She hefted it's weight and watched light glint off the metal, then shrugged and put it in her pack.

"How does it work with Orcs then?" Marcurio asked as he padded along next to her.

"Marriage?"

"Yes."

"You've never been to a stronghold?"

"They're not exactly welcoming of strangers."

"Can you blame them? Our homeland was wiped out... more than once. People call us pig-faced, stinking animals."

"You smell quite nice, actually, even under all that bone you wear..." She growled under her breath and he laughed. "You don't have to tell me…"

She stopped and rubbed her forehead, reminding herself that he didn't know. "In an Orc stronghold the chieftain is the only one allowed to take a spouse."

"What… in the entire stronghold?"

She nodded. "They fight for the right to be chieftain. Only the strongest are permitted to breed."

Marcurio frowned. "Seems a bit unfair."

She laughed. "You think? Most chieftains only hold their position for a few years. My father died when I was less than six summers old at the hands of my… brother." She shrugged. "If you really want to get married, you can fight for it. If you don't… well. Don't try."

"I suppose you could always hope you'll attract the attention of the chieftain," Marcurio said.

She snorted. "Yes. You could."

"All right, I've obviously said something wrong…"

"No."

"Urzul…"

"If you don't want the attention of the chieftain…" or want him deciding your fate "you can always leave," she said.

"Is that what you did?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

"And then you got arrested."

"I left to join the Imperials and was mistaken for a Stormcloak sympathiser on my way over the border."

"Oh irony, thy name is Urzul," he grinned. She blinked. "You do know what irony is don't you?"

She sighed. "Are we done here?" she asked.

He gave her a sly smile. "Are you going to sell the amulet?"

"Probably."

"Keep it," he said. "You never know, you might want to get married someday."

Beastblood. Beserker Rage. Dragonborn. "Malacath," she spat. "Why do you think I would ever want to do that?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, pretty Orc like you, good prospects. You could settle down and start a smithy somewhere and have lots of psychotic hammer wielding babies…"

"Do you want me to crush your skull?"

He leapt nimbly out of her way and laughed. "You're not thinking about what to do once Alduin is defeated?"

She stopped. "You speak as though you think I will succeed."

He smirked again and waggled his fingers. "With me on your side there's no way you can fail," he said.

"I am constantly surprised by the level of your arrogance, Marcurio."

"Ha! I knew you'd start calling me by name eventually."

"It is a good idea to know the names of fools."

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "You can be very hurtful when you want to be."

"I thought that was the point."

They pushed their way out of the cave into blinding snow. Urzul let out a sigh and cast her eyes back and forth, looking for any more bandits. The Cave would be good shelter for them until the blizzard passed, but she had no desire to be attacked by any that might have been out foraging or hunting while they took care of the others.

"You should reconsider my offer," she said then.

Marcurio was leaning against the rocks at the cave entrance, picking imaginary dust off the axe she'd given him. The axe she'd forged for him, actually, out of the ebony they'd found in that smuggler's den. It seemed like a fair trade for his services, and he did seem to like it. She found herself eyeing his proportions in the robes he wore, wondering if she could fashion armour out of the dragon scales they'd been collecting the same way she'd managed with the bone she wore.

Dragon was excellent protection, against magic and blade - not that Marcurio ever let himself get within reach of a weapon, his long distance spells were so deadly that she often didn't even have to wield her hammer at all in a fight. Only when they were overwhelmed, only when she fell back on her shouts and had to swing her hammer in wide arcs, only when they were in danger did she shudder to think of nothing but cloth and his magic between a blade through his chest.

"Become a Blade?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Are you joking?… Finally?"

"No. Delphine has coin. She can pay you. And if I die…"

His lip curled. "If you die Alduin will eat the world."

She huffed and pulled off her helm. "So they say."

"You don't believe what Esbern says? What the wall of the Temple said? What Parthanax said?"

She shrugged. "It's hard to believe the words of a dragon you've only just met."

"He's lived since the beginning of time, cut him some slack. Ancient and all."

"Exactly."

Marcurio snorted. "What, you think he's senile?"

"An Orc would never let himself get to that state."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. She had no desire to tell him how or why the only orcs in strongholds that made it to frail old age were the wise women. And there was really nothing frail about them — all thin wiry strength and bitterness.

She felt her lip curl and swallowed back the tide of memories. "We're nearly at the College," she said. "Is there anything else you needed to tell me?"

She watched the play of muscles across his jaw as he tensed up. "No. Just… As I said, I'll keep my head down."

"Should I leave you out the front?"

"Please don't. Faralda lurks around out front, stopping people from going in who aren't magically talented enough. I really don't much want to cool my heels chatting to her about my extensive list of failures."

Urzul stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Wait, you mean we can't just go inside?"

"Shout at her. I'm sure she'll let you in then."

"Marcurio…"

"What, you don't think they'd jump at the chance to have a peek at the Dragonborn? I'm sure most of them just think it's regular magic, the Thu'um. I heard Drevis talking about it with Tolfdir once…"

"Marcurio I asked you if this was going to be a problem."

He huffed out a sigh. "It's not. If I have to I can…" he swallowed. "If I have to they'll let me in."

She cocked her head on one side. "You didn't want to expose yourself to them," she pointed out.

"I didn't. But stopping the world-eater has become more important than my problems, I think. Even if you don't think Parthanax has it all up here," he tapped his forehead, "I'm willing to give the old thing the benefit of the doubt. I like being alive."

She swallowed. "Fine. I'll shout for her. But Malacath knows any test of magic they decide to give me would be a complete waste of their time."

Marcurio tugged on his ponytail, looking troubled. "You're not that bad."

"Yes I am. Do not lie to me." She turned and stalked back into the cave. "Are you coming or do you want to freeze to death out there?"

He sighed and followed her.