Ren blinked away a flurry of black spots and found herself staring up at Frea's almost but not quite concerned expression. The back of her head ached fearsomely and every muscle in her body throbbed.
"What…?" She trailed off as she realized there was a giant mushroom looming over Frea's shoulder. She strugged to think back, but the last thing she remembered was dropping into a dead sleep beneath a handful of pine trees.
"How did I get here?"
"I forgot you are susceptible to Miraak's influence. I followed you here. I hit you before you could begin working, and it seemed to work." Frea said simply. Ren sat up, glancing around. They were both covered in ash, as it covered the ground in great heaping mounds. It fell from the sky like rain, dusting everything. Even the usually pristine water surrounding the All-Maker Stone was covered with a filmy layer of the substance. Ren herself was lying quite comfortably in an ash drift beneath a mushroom.
"How did these mushrooms grow so big?" She asked, lying back down with a careless shrug. She heard Frea moving around a bit, then the Skaal theatrically dropped beside her.
"Magic. Even the Skaal have heard of Neloth Telvanni, a great Dunmer mage who has lived here for centuries. He grew four mushrooms that are larger than any tree I have ever seen, and these are the seedlings of the great mushrooms. He calls his home Tel Mithryn. He is not an altogether pleasant man-I traveled Solstheim as a Rite of Passage years ago and met him here during one such travel-but his magic is kind to the land, and he does not press what the All-Maker does not want."
"So, you've mentioned the All-Maker before. You worship only one deity?" Ren asked, turning her head to look at Frea. The Skaal was staring up at the sky quietly.
"…Yes. The All-Maker created everything, and it is to him we go when we die. He is one with the land and teaches us to be so as well, rather than to exploit it and take from it as outsiders do…..What do you worship?" She asked, turning to face Ren.
"That's a matter for debate. Skyrim is torn right now. The Stormcloaks believe in Talos, the Ninth Divine, and that Skyrim belongs solely to the Nords. The Empire believes Skyrim is under its command and, since signing the peace treaty with the Aldmeri Dominion in order to save itself, have no choice but to stamp out Talos worship. Besides Talos, though, there are Eight Divines. Dibella, Arkay, Julianos, Stendarr, Akatosh, Mara, Kynareth, and Zenithar. I pray to Talos regularly, but I don't usually have much to do with any of the other Divines. And then there are the Daedric Lords. I leave offerings for some of them, when I get the chance."
"But you have taken vows to another." Frea said softly. Ren flinched.
"Yes. If you probe any deeper, though, I will have to kill you, Frea." There was no mirth in her voice, only a seriousness that did not seem to surprise Frea at all.
"I have figured out that much myself, outsider." Frea sighed. Silence consumed them until Ren let out a groan.
"I can't lay here without falling asleep, and if I do that it won't get me any rest anyway. Let's go." Ren growled, standing up. She got her bow out and strung up an arrow, glancing at the worshippers. They all appeared to be Reavers, save one Dunmer who was dressed more like a housekeeper. She turned her head and gazed at the horizon, just making out the tops of some obviously massive mushrooms. He probably worked for the Neloth Telvanni Frea had mentioned.
"Gol!" The supports cracked and fell, and another monster appeared. By now it was nowhere near as impressive as it had been the first time. Ren fired off a handful of arrows before it got close to her, and Frea dropped it with a heavy chop to the back of its knees. Another chop sent its head rolling. The Reavers, upon seeing it, had fled for their lives. The other Dunmer had done much the same thing, save he had bolted in the direction of the giant mushrooms. Ren watched him flee as she put away her weapons, shaking her head. She couldn't blame him, but the man could have at least thanked them. Ash swarmed around her head for a moment, a result of the movement.
"Let's just go to Raven Rock. If I pass out on the way, tie me up." Ren sighed. Frea allowed a wicked grin to appear on her face as she nodded.
"With pleasure." Ren pulled a face at Frea's tone, but the two companions set off towards Raven Rock without another comment.
"Why did you come to Solstheim? Surely you could have simply killed Miraak's assassins and forgotten the matter. Why come all the way here?" Frea asked, breaking the silence after they had been walking for some time.
"I told you a while ago I owned property away from the Hold cities, right? That has its benefits, but with it being so far away from guards, it also has its downfall. Bandits, giants, wild animals, and occasionally those who don't stumble on it by accident attack it. I don't ever leave my son alone anywhere, if I'm leaving for long periods of time but…that doesn't always help. I left to find the Elder Scroll, and when I got back I found the people I had left to care for Hroar dead. Nothing in the house was taken-I have hiding spots for my valuables anyway, so it wasn't like they saw anything special-except for Hroar. It took me a week to track him down and rescue him. After that we moved to Whiterun, and he's been there ever since. Miraak's assassins found me in Whiterun and tried to kill me at Dragonsreach, the Jarl's palace. If they were brave enough to do that, they'd be brave enough to go after Hroar. I came here as soon as I could to stop whoever was trying to have me killed."
"You came to protect your son. What about his father?" Frea asked, staring at her out of the corner of her eyes. Ren shot her an annoyed look.
"I adopted Hroar…Um….Five years ago. Although, his room has two beds and I know for a fact his friends sleep there almost as often as he does. There's always someone bunking there. There's a spare bedroom-I had a housecarl at one point, but I told her to retire. Now and then she'll stop by to see how we're getting on and mother us to death. Anyway, I'm not married." Ren said, shaking her head.
"Such a surprise." Frea snorted. Ren jabbed her elbow in the Skaal's stomach, and was rewarded with a handful of muffled curses.
"So what about you? Is there anyone you have your eye on? Because your options seemed kind of limited." Ren asked teasingly. The Skaal's eyes narrowed.
"Wulf Wild-Blood, First Hunter of the Skaal has asked me marry him, if you must know." Frea sniffed disdainfully.
"And you said no?" Ren guessed. Frea flinched.
"I have duties to attend to. In these times I must watch out for my father and take up what he cannot do any longer. With game becoming scarcer each dawn, Wulf has to hunt longer and farther than the Skaal have ever had to do before. And, when she can spare him, Fanari often sends him to hunt down the Reavers that hunt without proper cause. I will not distract the village during such a time as this. Perhaps when Miraak is defeated." Frea allowed, but even when Ren needled her, the woman would say no more.
"Do the Skaal marry outside of their own?" Ren finally asked. Frea nodded.
"Yes, if there is love between them. It is not common, though. Outsiders almost never come to Solstheim, never mind about the village itself. It has happened once in the last few generations, that I know of. Why? Do you have your eye on anyone?" Frea taunted. Ren scowled at her.
"The only thing appealing about the Skaal are their accents." She declared, folding her arms. Ahead of them the top of the Bulwark appeared, so she bolted for it as Frea let loose a cry. She didn't know Frea well enough to know if Frea would smack her like Serana did, but she had no desire to test the Skaal.
Two Redoran guard shot her nasty looks as she ran past them. Ren ignored them until she reached the market square. She glanced at the forge, where Glover worked over a piece of unwieldy looking armor. Relief filled her to see that he was alright and, more importantly, free of Miraak's influence for the time being. He hadn't spotted her yet.
Good.
She turned and grabbed the arm of the first person who walked by her, a formidable looking Dunmer.
"What do you want?" He growled, jerking free of her.
"Do you know where Crescius Caerellius is?" She asked, fumbling over the name. There were too many 'c' sounds.
"The mines. He's been hanging out there for years." The Dunmer said, nodding his head towards the location.
"Thanks!" She chirruped, dashing for the mines. The Dunmer seemed baffled, but she didn't much mind. She could hear Frea running to catch up with her-the Skaal might have made a good hunter, but she was no thief. The noise she made was unbelievable. Even Delvin, drunk on Vekel's 'special mead' made less sound.
She reached the mines without trouble and pulled the door open, slipping inside. An argument assaulted her ears almost immediately.
"Damn it woman! I said leave me be!"
"Crescius, last time you explored the mine you almost fell to your death! I'm not spending the rest of my days as a widow!" A woman's voice cried back.
"And I'm telling you that I'll do whatever it takes to find my great-grandfather's remains. He's down here, I can feel it."
"That was almost two centuries ago! There may be nothing left to find!" Ren came upon the arguing couple. A Dunmer woman, close to tears and sounding extremely frustrated, stood in front of an elderly Imperial man.
"Just let me go, woman!" The Imperial, Crescius, Ren assumed, snapped.
"Crescius, you're an obstinate old fool and you're going to get yourself killed!" She cried out, tears breaking loose. She turned and stormed out, not even glancing at Ren.
Ren was silent for a moment, glancing between the door and the Imperial.
"Hey, Crescius?" Ren asked awkwardly, trying out the man's name. He turned to face her immediately, scowling. He was dressed in sloppy, wrinkled clothing covered in dust, and his hair was long and greasy. He wasn't much of a looker by anyone's standards. Considering the fact he appeared much older than his wife, Ren wondered idly why she had married him. Especially if he treated her as he just had all the time.
"What is it?"
"Glover sent me to get his pickaxe back." She said bluntly. The Imperial's eyes narrowed.
"What, that old fool? He probably stole it in the first place!" He snapped. The sound of Frea's running met Ren's ears-she had caught up to her.
"So you make a habit of taking what doesn't belong to you?" Ren asked hypocritically, folding her arms across her chest. The Imperial's face darkened. He reached for something at his side and Frea tensed beside her, as if expecting a weapon of some sort to come racing towards them. Instead the old man held out an intricately carved pickaxe, stained dark with age and made of a material Ren was unfamiliar with. Ren hesitantly reached out and grabbed it. As soon as her fingers touched it, the old man dropped it.
"Get out of here." The old man said curtly, turning and stalking deeper into the mines. Ren glanced at Frea, who seemed annoyed by the man's rude manner.
"The people of Solstheim are so welcoming." Ren said, smiling sweetly. Frea's glare turned to her.
"C'mon. We can probably stay at Glover's house for free rather than the Inn for gold, if I get him his stuff back. I swear, this is the last time I help anyone, no matter who they're related too." Ren groused, heading out.
"Who is this Glover?" Frea asked. Ren dropped her voice to a bare whisper as they exited the mine.
"The brother of one of my…associates. He lost some of his more important belongings and asked me to get them back for him."
"Who is this companion of yours?" Frea asked, sensing the mirth in Ren's voice. Ren laughed.
"Delvin Mallory. He's like the grandfather I never had, which is kind of gross, actually." Ren added thoughtfully, pulling a face.
"Why is that?" Frea asked curiously. The Skaal was full of questions, Ren mused with no small degree of amusement.
"Every time he sees me he tries to convince me to bed with him-actually, anytime a woman walks into the Flagon he accosts them. He never touches them, but it's because of him that only Guild women go there and they wouldn't hesitate to cut off his hands. He spends most of his time drinking. But he's a master thief and has taught me a lot." Ren murmured, shrugging. Frea let out a sound halfway between laugh and a huff, something that sounded strange even to Ren. Before Ren could ask what it was about, however, they arrived at Glover's forge. He didn't notice them right away, so Ren lifted her hand and knocked on the wooden pillar she stood beside. A dark scowl painting his face he looked up, then blinked in surprise when he saw her.
"Ren?" He asked softly. His eyes went wide and he stood, excitement bubbling forth from him like a child on their birth day.
"Do you have it?" He demanded. Ren rolled her eyes at him.
"Yeah, you're definitely related to Delvin. Yes, but I'm not getting them for you if you lose them again." She said, handing over the pickaxe.
"Ah, no. You can keep it." Ren's eyes went round with disbelief.
"You made me go harass some old guy for this, and now you're saying you don't want it?!"
"Someone had to teach Crescius that he can't just go around taking what doesn't belong to him. And anyway, I don't work with Stalhrim that often, so I have little to no use for it. Just keep it. Maybe you'll find something to use it for later." Glover muttered. Ren put her hands on her hips, still holding the pickaxe in one hand.
"And you're one to take the moral high ground?!"
"That is hypocritical. You did in the mines." Frea pointed out, shifting from foot to foot.
"That's irrelevant! I stole an Elder Scroll to save the world! I can be as hypocritical as I want!" Ren snapped, scowling. She didn't know what she was going to do with the heavy pickaxe. Actually, she would probably leave it with Glover until she killed Miraak. She could pick it up on her way back to Skyrim.
Both Glover and Frea stared at her in disbelief. She sighed and began digging around in her bag, pulling out an only slightly crumpled piece of paper a few moments later.
"And…here's your formula." Glover snatched it from her and hurriedly unfolded it. His eyes scanned the paper, and he sighed with relief.
"Thank the Divines." He muttered, collapsing back on the edge of his forge. Ren winced, but he wore thick leathers to protect him from small embers that dotted the rim. Of course, they were nothing like dragon fire. Now that hurt.
"So….My reward aside, we were kind of hoping we could stay at your place tonight." Ren said, rocking back and forth on her heels. Glover looked up at her and scowled.
"Septim pincher." He growled. She only offered him a wide grin.
"…Yeah. I'll close up early today. This is cause for celebration. Not many could get all the way across Solstheim and back in, what, three days?" Glover said, standing up. Ren and Frea shared a glance.
"Yeah, that's all I did." Ren said dryly. Glover shot her a curious look, which she ignored. She slipped over a rope he had tied from one wooden pillar to the other, an attempt to keep people out of his forge, and effortlessly wove her way around the forge materials that were crammed beneath the small roof. Ren had no idea how the Breton managed to maneuver around them each and every day. He was much too bulky for that.
But, of course, he had been a member of the Thieves Guild at one point. And the Thieves Guild accepted no one who could not handle their own in a job.
Ren made it to the door and jiggled the handle, letting out an explosive sigh of disgust when she found it was locked.
"Really, Glover? You never go more than four feet from your door at any point during the day, and you lock it?" Ren whined, turning her head to look at him. He didn't bother to look at her when he responded dryly.
"If you're any indication, it keeps thieves out well enough." Ren's jaw dropped in indignation, but he had already finished whatever it was he had been doing. Carrying a large bundle over one shoulder, he nudged her out of the way an inserted a key into the door's lock. A soft snick sounded, and the door swung open.
"Ladies first." He said, waving his hand. Frea smirked and pushed past her, although Ren was not that far behind.
His house was small and cozy, furnished comfortably but sparingly. A shelf ran around the entire room at about waist height, and he dropped his burden on it as he motioned for them to sit. Ren perched on the shelf while Frea took a chair.
"I promised you a reward, didn't I? I should just call this good." Glover muttered, digging around in a strongbox near a doorway into another room.
"…But here. There's some stuff in the basement that I don't have any need for anymore. Take anything you see. And some Black-Briar Reserve too. Do you drink?" The last part he directed to Frea, even as he handed Ren a small key. Ren immediately brightened.
Keys always interested her. They told stories. One could tell how important their secrets were based on their shape-thereby explaining the specific type of lock they fit into-and how worn they were, whether there were markings on it, and whether or not someone had written on it. This particular key was small but long, obviously belonging to a lock that had been designed by a thief themselves, probably Glover, and well worn. The edges of it, however, were not nearly as scratched as an often used key would be. It had no carvings and no words on it. Actually, there could have been at one point, but Ren could not make out anything through the polished metal.
Glover didn't often go wherever this key led, but he thought about it all the time.
"No. The Skaal do not need such things." Frea said seriously, shaking her head.
"You're loss. Nothing finer than Maven's special Reserve." He declared. Frea rolled her eyes.
"Is there a place I can sleep?" She asked. Glover paused.
"Um, in the basement. Ren, you take her down there? I'm sure by the time I get down there you'll have cleared plenty of room." He said dryly, casting her an amused look. Ren narrowed her eyes at him.
"Don't mock me, old man."
"And you'd do what about it?" He snorted, closing the strongbox and folding his arms across his chest.
He had some really big muscles.
"I'm the Guildmaster and the Dovahkiin. You do the math." She replied, turning and slipping into the adjoining room.
"Just a handful of big titles for a slip of a thing." Glover called after her, as Frea slipped past him.
"Hey! When I'm fighting brutes like you, I need all the big titles I can get, thank you very much!" Ren shouted back, unlocking the basement door and dramatically throwing it open.
Her eyes widened when she saw what awaited in the room.
"Glover, what is this?!" Ren shouted, seeing a set of armor unlike anything she'd ever seen before. She lifted the glass lid it was trapped beneath slowly, letting out a hiss at how heavy it was.
The armor itself looked like a cross between the Nightingale armor she wore and the Guild armor every member of the Thieves Guild wore. It was much darker, but made of the same Guild style she was familiar with.
"Ah, well..." She looked up as Glover entered the room. Frea was already throwing together a sleeping area in one of the corners, studiously ignoring them.
"…See, this was my pet project when I was with the Guild. I wanted to make a set of armor better than the standard stuff Tonilia makes. Don't get me wrong, she's a lovely girl, but her blacksmithing skills are far from perfect."
"And yours are?" Frea muttered, drawing a laugh from Ren. Glover's cheek twitched but he otherwise ignored the jibe.
"I'm no good with enchantments, but I think I did good on these." He said, lifting up a pair of gloves. Ren had to agree with him, however much she hated feeling like she was betraying Tonilia. This black armor even looked stronger than the Guild armor that the Redguard woman spent hours making.
"What do you call it?"
"Blackguard's armor. I, ah….Growing up Delvin and I heard a lot of myths about Nocturnal. About how she gives us the luck we need to get out of stuff easily. So, I crafted this and named it in her honor. Tonilia wouldn't accept 'better Guild armor'." He added, a sheepish smile touching his face. Ren did her best not to flinch at the mention of the Daedric Lord. While, at this point, the entire Guild already knew about Nocturnal's history with the Guild, she would never get used to how easily that interfered with her vows.
"She's very picky about her craftsmanship. I always wondered why." Ren said dryly. Glover laughed.
"Yeah, well, I'm not going to use it. You try it, see if it fits. If not I can fix it up. Are you alright? Need anything?" He directed his questions towards Frea, who was sitting on a pile of stuff Ren assumed she was going to sleep on, armor laid out neatly at the edge of it. Frea looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Food, I suspect." Ren muttered. Glover's eyes widened.
"Ah, can't believe I forgot! Hold on, I'll go get something." He said, hurrying out of the room. Ren closed the door behind him and locked it, eager to try on the armor she had just acquired.
"You do not act as a thief should." Frea murmured. Ren glanced at her, amusement clear in her eyes.
"The Guild has honor. Sounds strange, but it's true. We don't kill our marks and we don't take from those who can't afford it. And, we're a family. I know that makes us sound like the Brotherhood." Ren added, seeing Frea open her mouth. The Skaal woman's brow furrowed in confusion.
"The…Brotherhood? I have not heard of them." Ren's eyes went wide.
"You've never heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Sithis and the Night Mother and the Black Hand, all of that?" Frea shook her head in response.
"Damn. You're way out there. Well, they're a group of assassins. They worship Sithis-don't ask me to explain who Sithis is-and the Night Mother, who they believe is his wife. She's long dead, but if you want to hire them you pray to her. She hears it, they visit, your contract dies, you pay the gold."
The armor fit well enough. It was much less conspicuous than her Nightingale attire, forged midnight and all. It appeared just as strong, too, although it didn't conceal her face nearly as well. The hood dipped over her eyes, though, which was a good thing. Satisfied, Ren packed her Nightingale armor away. The Blackguard stuff was just like the Guild armor, which meant it was bearable to sleep in. And if Miraak reached for her again that night, she wanted all the protection she could get.
"Have you dealt with the Brotherhood before?" Frea asked cautiously. Ren nodded.
"We have close ties with them. They…require our services every so often, and when the guards or their commander get to nosey or violent, we require theirs. That's pretty rare, though. And the rest is confidential." Ren said, grinning slightly.
To be honest, the Brotherhood scared her. She had accidentally stolen a contract once. Their leader at the time had kidnapped her and tried to force her to murder three random strangers. Ren had instead turned on her. Since then the Brotherhood would occasionally send half-hearted assassins after her, but no real damage had been done to her. The Listener seemed reasonable enough, but Ren had only spoken to him a few times. Karliah said she was an excellent judge of character, but coming from a thief to a thief about a devoted assassin, Ren doubted that meant much.
If the Listener tried to kill her, however, she wouldn't hesitate to strike back.
Frea let out a noncommittal noise. Ren spotted a strongbox off to the side, along with a sheaf of papers. Curious, she pounced on it.
My dearest daughter Sapphire…
The door behind her jiggled a little, and Ren distractedly set down the papers, walking over to it and unlocking it for Glover. The blacksmith was juggling a plate full of food in his arms. He spared Ren a glance and nodded approvingly when he realized she was wearing the armor, even as he transferred the plate onto a table.
"Here you are." Glover muttered, turning towards a cluster of Black-Briar Reserve bottles. Ren stifled a smirk. Any type of mead drew Delvin like a moth to a flame. It appeared the same went for his brother as well.
"What's a Skaal doing this far from the village with a Nord Thief? If you don't mind me asking." Glover added, dropping a couple of goblets on the table as he uncorked the alcohol.
"Freeing the people of Solstheim." Frea said dryly, obviously not expecting him to believe her.
"Saving the world. I think, if I ever leave the Guild, I'll take it up as my career path. I'm pretty good at it." Ren said proudly. It wasn't as if she had wanted to be thrust into the position of Dovahkiin, but there was no sense in denying something like that. Some people referred to her and the Dragonborn as if they were two separate people. Ren couldn't fathom thinking like that.
"What do you mean?" Glover asked, dropping into a chair. Ren perched on the shelf that ringed the room-it appeared to be a common thing, as it existed in every room in Glover's hosue.
"I'm the Dovahkiin. Dragonborn. Even you had to hear about a certain someone stabbing Alduin to death with a pigsticker." She said, rolling her eyes. Glover looked bemused.
"I think I speak for all of Tamriel when I say you are the last person I would expect to be Dragonborn. So what do you mean you're saving Solstheim?" Glover continued on, impressing Ren. Most people would stop and obsess over what she was. A newfound respect for the blacksmith welled up within her.
"Miraak has returned." Frea said shortly. Glover stared at her, puzzled.
"That name sounds familiar."
"It should. The All-Maker Stone outside of town?" Ren prompted. Glover's brow furrowed.
"The shrine? But that's sacred!"
Ren and Frea shared a glance.
"It is." Frea said gravely. Ren assumed the Skaal was talking about the fact it was called an All-Maker Stone, after her deity, and not the fact that Miraak had claimed it as his own.
"This is making my soul hurt." Ren grumbled, settling into the pile of furs and a bedroll she'd cobbled together with her goblet of mead. Both of her companions stared at her strangely.
"When I learn a Shout, it scars my soul. Usually it isn't that bad-'cept when the Thu'um isn't meant to be, like Alduin's Bane. That hurt. And, coupled with the fact he digs it in about as brutally as humanly possible, that makes it very uncomfortable. It's like bruising. I could throw a rock at you and it would bruise you. Why should the soul be any different?" Ren shrugged as she took a sip of her drink. She loved Reserve, and it had been ages, it felt, since she'd last had any. Frea slowly nodded.
"My father would like to hear this, I think. Do you know if you could do the same to him?" Frea asked curious. Ren frowned.
"I don't know. We might be Dovahkiin, but we're different. I wouldn't do it." She said softly.
"Why not?" It wasn't entirely Glover's voice that asked. Ren and Frea both half stood, Frea reaching for her weapon and Ren struggling to remember the basic spells she had learned years ago as she struggled to finish drinking her mead-she wasn't going to let it go to waste. Glover's eyes were glazed over, but his face appeared slightly amused.
"How in Oblivion did you-?!" Ren coughed out, trying not to choke on the alcohol. Frea inched over to her and pounded her on the back, but by that point Ren had recovered. Miraak's laughter in Glover's voice unnerved her, though.
"Have you never tried to gather information on your enemies?" He asked, sounding amused.
"I pissed of a Daedric Lord doing that, on accident, and that was it." Ren snapped, eyes narrowed. Vaermina still hadn't forgiven her for it.
"How in the All-Maker's name did-"
"Get out of Glover's head." Ren interrupted, ignoring Frea's look of disbelief. Glover's head tilted to the side.
"It seems to annoy you, does it not? My Lurkers have not caused you any trouble yet. Expect more…resistancenext time, Mal Dovahkiin." Ren scowled. Frea began shouting something less than complimentary at Miraak, and Ren began pondering how to bring Glover back.
Her gaze went to the strongbox behind her and, more importantly, the papers beside it. She snatched it up and turned to the possessed blacksmith, hissing at Frea to shut up. The Skaal stopped and stared at her, furious and confused.
"My dearest daughter Sapphire, it's with a heavy heart that I write this letter. For years I've thought about how I could tell you this, and each time I imagined it would be face-to-face. I'm ashamed for what I did, and I hope that someday you'll learn to forgive me. Whatever you do, don't blame Delvin for any of this. He didn't know." Glover's eyes went wide even as a chuckle escaped him. The glazed look began to recede.
"Brilliant, Mal Dovahkiin."
"Long after I joined the Guild, I was sent to rob a caravan that was stopping at a tiny farming village far from the border of Skyrim. When I arrived there, I was a day early and decided to sleep for the night in the barn of a pig farm. I awoke the next morning when the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes upon walked in to do her chores. She wasn't even frightened when she saw me... in an instant I think we had both fallen in love. I ended up living with that woman in that tiny little village for a year until she was with child. And then, like a coward... I ran away. I was a thief and I didn't want to end up a farmer. It was a terrible thing to do." It truly broke Ren's heart to read this aloud to Frea and Miraak, and even to read it herself. This was Glover's business, not theirs. This belonged to Sapphire, not her. Miraak seemed to surrender control, because Glover suddenly pitched forward out of his chair, onto the floor. Ren froze, eyes widening in horror. Had Miraak just killed him?!
A snore drifted up from the incapacitated Breton.
"…He's asleep?" Ren asked, voice cracking. She folded up the papers she held and put them beside the strongbox, hurrying over to Glover. Frea did the same.
Ren put a finger to the blacksmith's wrist, seeking his pulse. She eventually found it, much to her relief. She doubted a dead man could snore loudly enough to shake the very foundations of the house, but she had to be sure. Serana didn't have a heartbeat, but the vampire could be loud when she wanted to be.
Frea took the key to the room from her and locked the door, made Ren close her eyes as she put the key Talos knew where, and then turned in for the night. Ren didn't follow immediately. She cleaned up the alcohol Glover had spilled first, and then stared at the papers she had read, thinking. Sapphire believed her father was murdered, along with her mother in the bandit raid that had turned Sapphire's life upside down. Yet, if Glover was her father, how was that possible? Had her mother married after Glover had abandoned her?
Ren winced. She hated to think badly of the man, but it was true.
"Go to sleep, Dragonborn." Frea grumbled, surprising Ren.
"But-"
"Now." Frea's tone allowed no room for arguments. Sulking, Ren did as she was told.
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...Meh. Not my favorite chapter.