OoOoOoOoOoOoO

AMIR

Amir drained the contents of the mead bottle before slamming it back on the table and gesturing for another. He eyed the Redguard serving girl appreciatively as she sashayed over and set down another drink. Not often you saw women of his country in Skyrim, even more rare if they were young and practically spilling out of their clothing. She smiled suggestively at his leer but the grin didn't reach her eyes and she kept an arm's distance. It wasn't the first time a tavern wench had shied away, some more clear on their opinions than others, but it stung more than usual. He rubbed the stub of his left arm self-consciously before grabbing the new drink and taking a swig. It had been a little more then a week since his arm had been amputated and its loss was almost more unbearable than the initial pain itself. Danica, the chief priestess at the temple, had given him herbs that helped dull the ache in his arm, but they did nothing for the ache in his heart. Amir knew from his experiences that few things could help take away the pain from a hurt soul. Those remedies were women, a good fight, and alcohol. Since he could no longer fight and the women were practically running, alcohol would have to do. He took another long draught before he caught sight of Rogvir coming through the doors. Amir started to raise his left arm to get his attention before catching himself and bitterly took another drink. Luckily, Rogvir saw him anyway and sat down across from him, raising an eyebrow.

"You're not supposed to drink if you're using those herbs."

Amir rolled his eyes, since the accident Rogvir had been fretting over him like a mother hen. He was waiting for the moment when he started plumping his pillows and giving him warm milk at night.

"The concern is appreciated, but considering you're half my age and I trained you while you were still practically sucking at your mother's tits, I think I'll be alright."

He started to take another drink before he realized that his bottle was now empty and began gesturing for another.

"Just at least tell me how many drinks you're in so I know if I should leave a bucket beside you tonight." Rogvir sounded a little irritated, but by the gods, Amir thought, he was a grown man. If he wanted to get shit-faced and throw up his guts later he could do that if he wanted.

"Listen here-" Amir started to say and tried to use his absent left arm to get up while still holding the empty bottle. The result ended with him smashing part of his face into the table and falling off the chair. He wasn't completely sure at this point if it was his missing arm, the alcohol, or the medicine that was making him so dizzy.

"Probably a bit of everything," he murmured, incoherently, as Rogvir helped him up and walked him to their room. Never in his life, had he been more appreciative of a warm bed and the minute his head hit the pillow he passed out.

When Amir woke the next morning, sun was pouring into the room from a small window and shining into his eyes.

"By all that is good and holy," he groaned and threw the coarse blanket over his face. The pounding in his head was unbearable, he remembered why he hated getting knockout drunk, and prayed to the Divines for release. After a few minutes, when no miraculous relief came, he groaned and got out of bed. He awkwardly got dressed and headed down the stairs for some sort of breakfast. As he got his food and began to dig in he spotted Rogvir walk into the inn and notice him. Remember his behavior towards Rogvir from the other night, Amir winced and motioned him over with his good arm.

"I'm sorry about last night," Rogvir said quickly, cutting off Amir as he opened his mouth. "If anyone has the right to drink right now it's you, and I've been acting overbearing since this whole, thing." Rogvir gestured at Amir's arm, looking uncomfortable at having to mention the missing limb.

Having Rogvir apologize to him was probably the worst way for him to act, even though it was completely unintentional.

"Don't apologize Rogvir, I've been acting like a bitter ass all week and drinking to make myself forget." Amir cleared his throat, slightly ashamed at having to admit his behavior. "It won't continue though, I don't know what I can do now to contribute but I'll promise you I won't do anything else to push us back."

Rogvir nodded, looking a bit embarrassed, so Amir changed the subject.

"So, still no word of Nyl?" Nyl had disappeared the day of his surgery and neither Rogvir nor Amir had heard or seen any sign of her.

"No sign of Nyl, but that isn't the shocker of the era," Rogvir said irritably. "I told you she would cut and run the minute things turned bad."

Amir felt a twinge of doubt at Nyl's loyalty as he said that. He knew Nyl's past, and knew that she viewed Amir, Lywel, and even Rogvir as a pseudo-family but he couldn't deny Nyl had a somewhat dubious history and running would not be out of character.

"And I suppose no change for Lywel either?"

Rogvir shook his head sadly. " I talked to Danica this morning. He's still unconscious but they managed to get a little water into him. She said though, if his condition doesn't change, he won't make it much longer."

Amir pushed his plate of half eaten food away and rubbed his face wearily with his hand. Just a few weeks ago he was mediating petty fights between Rogvir and Nyl, now everything had been changed.

"Another thing," Rogvir said hesitantly, "We're running out of septims. I had a good amount stored since we came here but I think Nyl took half when she split and food and shelter are starting to take their toll without any incoming jobs. We also picked the worst hold in all of Skyrim to be mercenaries. The Hall of the Companions is only a stone's throw away and they take a good portion of the clients in Whiterun."

"You could always join." Amir hated to mention it but the fact was he was holding Rogvir back. Even if they could find jobs, there was no way Rogvir could take them on by himself.

"No," Rogvir stated brusquely. "I mean, I can't say I didn't think of the idea but when it comes down to it I can't abandon my mentor and I can't abandon Lywel.

Amir was about to point out that his mentor was now a cripple and Lywel was more likely to die soon then suddenly recover but Rogvir had such conviction written on his face that he couldn't argue. Rogvir was no longer the teenage boy he once trained; he was a man and could make his own decisions, no matter how bad they might be.

Amir managed a small smile at Rogvir, "Well, seems we are deep in over our heads. No work, and no manpower to do it even if we could find any." Amir sighed, he knew that one day the little group would have to expand but he was still dreading it all the same. "Looks like we're going to have to hold some good, old-fashioned, interviews."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcome and thanks for reading!