The pair arrived in Winterhold around two weeks later. Faranirr was shielded from the storm by a cloak of ice bear fur he wore over his armor. He'd offered to make the Dragonborn one but she staunchly refused, saying something about her 'warrior's code'. Faranirr smiled a little as he heard her shiver again, thinking of how little a 'warrior's code' did to keep one warm. It was also reassuring to know that the Dragonborn was not above being cold or headstrong. She was a normal, stubborn woman. One Faranirr was now forced to travel with.
It was nightfall by the time they arrived. The only way Faranirr could tell the place wasn't deserted was by the wandering yellow glow of the guard's torches. "This is Winterhold, eh?" She said. "Underwhelming," She concluded.
"You cannot blame them. Winterhold has not been the same since the Great Collapse." Farnirr said. The Dragonborn was uninterested in a history lesson, though.
"Is there an inn around here?" She asked suddenly.
"Yes. There's one over that way." Faranirr said, pointing towards the inn. He'd never seen a person in such heavy armor run so quickly.
Suddenly, a man in rags stopped the two of them. "So you call yourself a wizard, eh?"
"No one said that," Faranirr replied.
But the man only looked at the Dragonborn, "I challenge you to a duel."
The Dragonborn just nodded and the two were off, the old man spewing ice from his palms. 'So this is magic,' Faranirr thought. He honestly thought it would be more awe inspiring. Seeing a man shoot ice crystals from his palms was impressive, but it wasn't like the blizzard of annihilation the stories he'd heard about magic made it out to be.
He expected his companion to use some form of wizardry as well, but instead she pulled out her Daedric dagger. She charged for him, despite the ice that slowed her down. She was as fast as a whip and twice as deadly as she plunged the dagger into the old man's throat. The old wizard didn't stand a chance. Blood gushing from his throat, he doubled over dead.
The Dragonborn wiped her blade off in the palm of her gloved hand and proceeded into the inn. Faranirr stared at the dead body. He knew the ways of Skyrim. People died everyday. But to see the Dragonborn do it so carelessly- as though she were swiping away a fly- he had to wonder if she really was the savior the songs made her out to be.
When he came into the Inn, he noted she was already handing over some gold to the innkeeper.
She turned to him."We have separate rooms. Dagur, the innkeep, will show you to yours. You are not to disturb me or seek me out for the next two days. Are we clear?" She asked.
"Understood." Faranirr answered.
He went to his room, looking over his shoulder at the Dragonborn one more time before she closed and locked the door to hers. "Your friend paid for three days. The bed's clean and if you need any food, just call me." Dagur said. Faranirr gave a short nod as thanks and closed the door to his room as well. He was looking forward to a hot bath, fresh food, and sleep without the threat of a rabid wolf deciding his legs resembled rabbits.
At the end of two days, Faranirr had neither seen the Dragonborn leave her room, nor anyone enter it. Despite her warning, his curiosity got the better of him. What was she hiding? Had she even eaten? He figured it wouldn't hurt anything if he brought her some food. After purchasing some charred skeever from Dagur, he crouched next to her room door and picked the lock. It was ridiculously easy to do. So much so he was positive she hadn't heard a thing.
He came into the room and heard a solid 'THUNK' in the wood next to his ear. His gaze slowly moved to the steel dagger that was now firmly embedded in the doorway beside him. The Dragonborn was in the bed. She had the blankets pulled half over her and snored softly. The two things that disturbed Faranirr most, though, were the facts that one, she was still in her Daedric armor, and two, her right arm was up and tensed with a second steel dagger between her fingers- the ready position to throw it.
Faranirr held his breath as he slowly backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Perhaps hunting would prove to be a safer pursuit.
Picking up the Ebony Bow the Dragonborn had gifted him with, Faranirr scaled the tall cliffs to the cracked ice over the Sea of Ghosts. He wrapped the ice bear cloak tighter around himself as the storm picked up. To better hunt his prey in these conditions, he blinked a few times, his vision adjusting to the snow as though it were the nighttime. Things became clear enough that he could see a few wolves in the distance. Wolf pelts would make for a fine cloak and a good sell.
Readying an arrow, he took slow breaths. He would have to take the wind into account. And if any of the beasts move before his shot hit. He slowed his breathing even further, clearing his mind until the wind's howl was a distant thought. As he released, he felt as though he watched the arrow soar in slow motion as it landed in the side of the head of his target ice wolf. It fell to the ground, dead after the first shot. Its two companions looked around now for the source of their companion's death. Faranirr readied another arrow to take down a second wolf.
He felt the wind knocked out of him as something large barreled into him with a snarl. The ice wolf now on top of him tried to bite Faranirr's throat but instead got a mouthful of ice bear cloak. He needed to kill the beast before the others found him, which at this rate wouldn't be long. He grabbed the steel dagger at his belt and plunged it into the wolf's throat in a very fluid motion. He rolled the beast off of him and became acutely aware of the other wolves that now circled him. He hissed in response to their snarls and took out a sword.
He was ready to stab one in the throat as it lunged at him. What he was not prepared for was the Daedric arrow that pierced its skull mid-leap. The other wolf took its attention off of him for only a second, and another arrow buried itself in the beast's throat. Faranirr looked around, but saw nothing- at least, not immediately. He noticed a black dot descending from the town moving quickly towards him. The Dragonborn had a Daedric bow out and another arrow notched.
"Get down!" She shouted. Faranirr ducked as she shot an arrow at a frost troll that had appeared. It stumbled backwards with a roar. Faranirr grabbed his sword and stabbed. He'd put enough force into it that the troll was dead shortly after the first impact. The Dragonborn kneeled beside one of the wolves' corpses and pulled out an arrow.
"I thought you were still in your room." Faranirr said, careful to leave out that he'd broken into it. She scoffed and pulled out another arrow.
"I couldn't sleep after all the ruckus you made breaking in. I thought I told you to stay out."
"You hadn't eaten. I was worried."
"And then you go and nearly get killed. Honestly, you're as bad as Lydia." She said.
Faranirr wanted to ask who Lydia was, but was more concerned with something else. "How did you make that shot? From that height, it would've been impossible." He said.
She shrugged, saying, "It wasn't so difficult."
"Were you trained as an archer?" He asked.
"If you mean was I showed by someone what the right end of an arrow was, then yes. My father when I was just a little girl. We traveled often when we weren't in Darkwater Crossing." She sounded like she wanted to say more but shook her head. "If you run off into danger again, I might not be around to save you- and the last thing I need is another follower who I have to watch over like a newborn. So knock it off." She ordered.
"As you wish." He said. It occurred to him only now that he didn't know anything about the Dragonborn. She never talked about herself or her past, only what laid ahead. Or maybe it was that Faranirr never bothered to ask. Either way, his companion was an enigma he doubted he'd crack anytime soon.
"If you're done almost being wolf dinner, I was thinking we would go to the College today." The Dragonborn said.
"Why?" Faranirr asked. "What is at the College for one such as yourself?"
"Why not? There are adventures to be had and Colleges to be conquered." She replied. Faranirr noted his companion seemed primarily concerned with 'adventure' and not 'personal safety'.
"Colleges are not like an abandoned hold. They are not necessarily meant to be conquered." Faranirr tried to explain.
The Dragonborn didn't seem to care. "I have to handle some business at the Inn. Take care of what you need to and we'll head out." She said before trudging off into the storm. Faranirr smiled again as he heard her teeth clatter.