The ride back to Left-Hand Mine was bumpy and the night air cold, but I finally felt myself overcome by the strain of the day and drifted into a long, half sleep. Every so often the cart would hit a large rock, jostling me from my slumber, and I would take the wakeup call as a sign to check on Vorstag.

His breath was still shallow and face alarmingly pale, but each breath seemed stronger and deeper than the first. I made sure the burlap blanket stayed wrapped around him and the flour sack he used as a pillow continued to comfortably support his head. I bring my knees to my chest, still clad in in my filthy armor, and sigh tiredly.

"You care about him a lot, don't you?"

My heart skips a beat as I turn towards the priest, who, up until that moment, had been quietly sitting beside me. His face is bedraggled and eyes downcast, studying the dusty, grained wood of the cart.

"I thought," I try, surprised by the hoarseness in my voice. I clear it with a strained cough and continue, "I thought you were asleep."

"I think I've slept enough today," Verulus says in a low voice, rubbing his eyes and turning to me with a knowing smile. "And to be honest I'm not sure I want to sleep ever again."

"I'm sorry." I say, guiltily breaking eye contact. The apology runs deeper than just condolences for his state of heath.

He swallows, biting his lip and looking back at the bottom of the cart. "I understand why," he finally says, "but I can't forgive you, not yet anyways. You both lied to me, endangered my life and yours. What were you thinking, taking on that barbaric hoard by yourselves?"

"I don't even know anymore." I whisper, eyes misting. I rub the corners, heart sinking in shame. "We wanted to destroy the daedra, to show them they can't manipulate us."

"That still doesn't explain why you two intentionally hunt them down." He challenges, giving me a sideways glance. "That's what the Vigilantes of Stendarr are for. Why don't you just join up with them?"

Now it's my turn to bite my lip. "I never really considered that…" I admit, probing my mind and emotions for an answer. "It's, I guess it's more complicated than that." I sigh.

"I think you guys got a hero complex," he says, nodding as if affirming the statement. "And I think, whether you realize it yet or not, you find this whole quest to be quiet romantic."

"Well that was bold," I grunt with a tight smile, "especially for a meek man like you."

"I've got a mouth when or cannibals aren't chasing me or I'm not stumbling over the affections of a pretty woman." He replies coolly. "Why do you think that Eola lady had it out for me?"

"I'm sorry for that too." I say, feeling my face flush. "It was wrong to use you like that. I've become so used to manipulating people that I barely notice how it impacts them anymore."

"That part I can forgive," he says, face equally, if not more, red. "But do you think maybe that's why you can't see how much he's fallen for you?" He adds, cocking his head towards Vorstag's slumbering form.

"I know it's impolite to return a gift," I blurt, dodging the question and pulling the coiling Amulet of Arkay out of my pack, "but I can't keep this knowing you gifted it while under false impressions. I'm sure it's very important to you."

"It is impolite," he chides, whether from the insult itself or my refusal to answer his question, "However…I would be grateful to have it back. Thank you. But please, think about what I said. It would be very unfortunate if you two got yourselves killed because you couldn't communicate. You guys are great together."

"Thank you, Verulus," I sigh, looking back down. We did almost get killed do to our inability to communicate. No, due to my inability to communicate. I feel my eyes grow wet again. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just understand my feelings and accept them? It wasn't that I thought emotions made me weak, but I emotions like these…they compromised a person. I couldn't let myself give into them, I couldn't let something like this happen again.

"What will you do next?" I force myself to ask, derailing my thoughts and wiping my eyes.

"I think I might leave Skyrim for some time." he says, looking up at the starry sky. "Go back home to Cyrodiil. I'm not exactly wanted by the people of Markarth after closing their Hall of Dead, and I'd like to see my family and teachers again. I don't know." He sighs, eyes drifting back to me. "You? What will you two do next?"

"I—I want to help the people of Left-Hand Mine," I affirm selfishly. "I need too. They are good people, and something really bad is happening in the Reach. My—my homeland." I look at Vorstag. "Our homeland. The Forsworn…I've seen attacks before but there was something wrong about this one, something organized. I feel like it runs deeper than just pagan rebellions, and I want to figure out what."

"Moving from one quest to the next." Verulus laughs tiredly. "Hero complex. Just promise me, that if you survive this one, you'll give yourself a break. Please."

XXX

"Time to get up already?" Vorstag whines drowsily as I rouse him awake. We'd just arrived at mining village and I was eager to get out of the cramped, rattling cart and into a real bed.

"Yeah, we're safely back at Left-Hand." I reply, pulling the burlap blanket off of him and moving out of the way as Skaggi, Gat, and the another man come around to help him out. "And as long as no more Forsworn show up we'll stay that way."

"Thank the gods you're all back!" Sosia cries, running from the house frantically wiping her hands on her stained apron. "What happened?" She asks wide eyed upon seeing Vorstag and my sorry state. "I mean, the priest told us, but you look—!"

"Terrible?" I finish for her, slowly climbing from the cart after the men help Vorstag out. "We've seen worse." I ponder that statement, unsure if it is lie.

"I—I've cooked up a broth for you, for all of you." Sosia manages, coming over to help me walk back to the house. "Lots of meat and vegetables, and bread, and cheese!"

"And Ale?" Vorstag croaks hopefully.

"No." I snap, glaring pointedly at him, then back to Sosia. "He's lost a lot of blood. He just needs to eat rich food and sleep."

"I've been sleeping." He mumbles under his breath, not caring I'm within earshot.

"Don't worry, dear." Sosia says reassuringly. "We'll take good care of you. I scrounged some healing herbs and potions as well to help with any lingering injuries, and prepared nice beds for the three of you in the miner's barracks. You won't be troubled there. Stay as long as you need."

"Thank you." I whisper tearfully. "You're too good to us, Sosia."

You're too good to me.

XXX

I turn for the hundredth time in my bed, unable to fall asleep. My wounds throb incessantly and my body is still heavy with fatigue, but my mind remains restless. I keep running dialogue sequences through my head, trying to figure out the best way to tell Vorstag what I must do. I know he'll be against it, but I also know he'll agree to help if I don't back down.

I sigh, flopping onto my back and stare at the dark, stonework of the ceiling.

I'm shamelessly manipulative.

I glare at the snoring priest, lying peacefully in the bed to my left.

"Thanks for calling me out on my flaws, you little shit!" I hiss at him in the dark.

"What did I do now?"

I jump, nearly falling out of the padded rock bed, and stifle a scream.

"What the—I thought you were asleep!" I breathe heavily, regaining my wits.

Vorstag laughs quietly in response, shifting in his bed to get more comfortable. I can just see the outline of his muscular body in the dark room. Though he is a brawny man, he seems so small lying there with no armor and beaten down from the day's trials. I can only imagine how weak I appear in his eyes every day.

I snort at the thought. I know Vorstag doesn't think I'm weak, hell in his mind I'm probably the strongest person ever. The way he looks at me sometimes when I use my magick…it's like he doesn't know if he should run, fight alongside me, or just cheer me on.

"So was that half-assed insult directed at me or the dim-wit over there?"

"You're the dim-wit." I growl playfully, still testy about the scare. "But no, it was directed towards him."

"I'm not sure I want ask why." He replies with a half-smile, rolling back to face the ceiling. "What are you doing still up? You've barely gotten any sleep today."

"Me?" I blurt, genuinely shocked. "What about you? You're the one who nearly bled out. I don't know how your body hasn't forced you to shut down yet."

"Oh, believe me, I was," he yawns, "And I'm half asleep now. Probably won't remember any of this in the morning."

"You won't?" I ask, heartbeat quickening.

"Mhnnh," he responds, breath slowing as he begins to fall back under.

"Vorstag," I whisper, turning my head towards him, watching his chest rise and fall. I need to get this out of my head, out into the open. Maybe then I'll be able to fall asleep and deal with the consequences in the morning. "I—I think…" "

"Yesaber?" He murmurs. I feel my heart rise and completely forget what I was planning to say, what words I was going to use. I can't believe I almost lost him today, almost lost myself.

"I think we need to part ways."

XXX

"You sure you don't remember anything from last night?" I ask Vorstag.

"Yes." he groans, pulling a clean miner's tunic our hosts left out for us on. I look away, blushing for I know he's naked behind me. "For the tenth time, yes! Why does it matter?" He goes quiet for a second and a real fear enters his eyes. "Was I talking in my sleep?"

A snort escapes my nose and my nervous lips suppress a smile. "Hardly. We were having a nice conversation," I say carefully, reciting the dialogue I planned for us to have during the long hours I laid awake. "And you said we'd continue it in the morning."

"Oh." He breathes with relief. "What were we talking about? And you can look now."

"We were talking about going back to Markarth to ask the jarl why he hasn't done anything about the Forsworn attacks, remember?" I didn't mean what I said last night, or at least I'd convinced myself I hadn't. True, I was worried my feelings and whims were responsible for almost getting him killed…but I couldn't bear not having him around. I'd gotten so used to his company that I can hardly believe I'd survived on my own for so long. If what my life was before counted as surviving.

"Saber," he says in a low voice, "I've told you my feelings on this. You shouldn't go chasing ghosts. It won't solve anything and will only hurt you more." He bends down, pulling a pair of hunting boots that look a little too small on. "Let's get out of here, head north, south, even east! Just away from the Reach."

"This isn't about revenge!" I shout suddenly, feeling the blood rush to my face. I jab a shaking finger at the window. "This about saving them! Why can't you just understand that I want to help those I've hurt!"

"You were a child!" Vorstag splutters, throwing the small boot down in frustration. "You didn't do anything wrong—their sins aren't yours."

My nostrils flare and I'm tempted to tell him about Sosia. I clench my teeth, holding the secret back. It's too dangerous to reveal, at least too dangerous here.

"Saber," he continues after I don't respond, trying his best to keep his voice even, "You have a purpose now. We have a purpose now. And it's a lot bigger than killing Forsworn."

"You've said that before." I growl, throwing myself angrily onto my bed. I wince slightly as my bruised body bumps against its rocky surface. "But do you even understand why we're doing this? If it was truly about the daedra, why haven't we joined up with the Vigilants? Taken oaths to Stendarr?"

"I don't know." he growls, glancing out a metal grated window. The pale gray light of the reach filters through and we can hear the clanking of the miners. "We had a good thing going? It was fun, doing something right, having a mission."

"Exactly." I say loudly, forcing him to look back at me. "We were playing heroes, found a common enemy so we could stay together. But now I have to do something else."

His face grows red and he opens his mouth, trying to say something. "All this 'I have to' stuff!" he manages, "We're a team, or have you forgotten? Do you ever listen to what I have to say? Chasing down the Forsworn will kill you. And I'm not talking about physical death. Revenge destroys you, leaves you empty!"

"I can't run around playing demon hunters anymore, Vorstag!" I yell, running my hands through my recently washed hair. "I need to help the people of the Reach. I need to stop the Forsworn."

"Why?" He barks, grabbing the edge of the stone bed. His nostrils flare angrily and he hunches over. "Why do you always have to go dig up these old problems?"

"What?" I snap offensively. "Are you saying that the fact I'm a Breton still bothers you?"

"Of course not!" He yells turning to me with genuine hurt in his eyes. "You know I would never hate anything about you! It's just that—!"

"Just what!?" I demand after he stops short and looks away.

"You always talk about your Forsworn heritage, how much you think it messed you up, how much you hate them!" Vorstag yells angrily, looking back up at me. "You think you're the only one they fucked over?! They killed my parents. Right in front of me. Then had the cruelness to leave me and my brother alive to live with that memory. It messed him up so bad he abandoned me—age twelve and sent to the Warrens to fend for myself! You think you hate the Forsworn? I hate the Forsworn. But unlike you I know to stay away."

"I killed so many of them before I realized that," he continued bitterly, cold eyes boring into mine. "Thought only of killing them, dreamed of it at night! But every mob party I joined, every mercenary job I picked up, every bounty I fulfilled, never ended my pain. It only fueled it. I was so hateful, so bloodthirsty—I almost lost myself. Finally, a friend got me to take a job that was far away from the Reach to help clear my head. That job lasted several months, and it probably saved my life."

"All I'm asking is that we go to Markarth and report what's happening!" I protest, barely hearing or caring about what he had to say. He wasn't agreeing with me. He always agreed with me, though most of the time grudgingly. This was not how I planned the dialogue to go, and it was quickly going in a very dangerous direction. But I couldn't back down.

I glance out the window and spot Sosia smelting ore the workers wheel to her from the mines. Brother Verulus stands nearby, chatting idly with her and attempting to help.

I can't back down. I need to do this.

Vorstag looks at me, incredulous and unbelieving. "Don't lie to me, Saber!" He snarls. "You and I both know you'll chase this to the end once you start."

"I've already started." I reply coldly. "So if you know me so well, you know this whole conversation is pointless."

"And if you really knew me at all," Vorstag scorns, pushing himself from the bed, "You would know I can't watch the woman I love destroy herself."

And then he's gone. The metal clang of the slammed door resounds with finality in the now quiet room, emphasizing just how alone in this pursuit I truly am.

As the anger burns away, I realize there are warm tears running down my face. A sob escapes and I violently wipe them away. I'd pushed too hard, driven him from me, and forced him to confess his feelings in the worst possible way.

But I can't deny that part of me is relieved. Though I'm alone in this mission, the only person I can now hurt is myself.

Thanks for reading! Their story continues in the next fic "Briar Blood". And if anyone was wondering the reason behind this fic's title, it happens to be the punchline to a cannibal joke. Haha not deep, I know, but Claroso thought I should tell you all. However, it ended up playing nicely with their ongoing attitudes toward each other.

Anyways, here's the lame joke.

What did the cannibal get when he came home late for dinner?

The cold shoulder.

Ba-dum-tshh.