A/N: Nothing to say other than pointing out that this is the longest chapter yet. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my Dovahkiin Iona Silver-Fang. Everything else belongs to Bethesda.
She was alone in the room, naked. Her wounds and bruises from Helgen had healed, some leaving faint scars. She already had plenty, most visible ones were three pink and long lines on her left cheek, left by an angry bear in her teenage years. Her left shoulder, however, looked as if someone painted it in different shades of grey, green, yellow and purple. Small purple bruises were scattered around her whole body, but the mere sight of bruises on her left shoulder made her cringe.
Fortunately, she could move her left shoulder easily, Danica did a good job healing it. Iona still had to be careful not to strain or stretch it too much, meaning she won't be able to use her shield effectively.
She didn't have a shield anymore anyway.
Watching her naked figure in the mirror, she saw her ribs poking out. Just like any Nord woman, she had a curvy figure, but only below chest. Even though she was a pureblood Nord woman, her breast were perky and small. She was muscular, but her lean muscles were covered with a thin layer of fat, giving her a more feminine figure. Her wide shoulders were slumped since standing straight hurt her left shoulder.
Touching her belly, she stroked her ribs. She was hungry, hungry for a real Nord meal. Like medium cooked venison with tankards of nord mead. Her mouth watered, but she unfortunately had stuff to do. First, she had to visit the man named Kodlak at Jorrvaskr. Then, she had to inform the Jarl of Whiterun about the dragon.
Huffing, she started getting dressed. Her modified Stormcloak cuirass had been mended. Her satchel, bow, arrows and war axe were waiting for her on the bed.
Her sleeveless leather tunic and short dress exposed the bruises on her shoulder. Covering them with bandages would limit her movements even further, so she let them be.
After dressing up, she tried tying the shorter locks on her front into a ponytail, but lifting her left arm that high hurt her, she hissed in pain and frustration. Frustrated, she brushed the hairs on her face back multiple times but it didn't even take 5 seconds for them to return.
Iona was beyond pissed now. Just as she was considering to rip her hair and smash the mirror in little pieces, Danica peered inside through the half open door. "I came to ask if you needed any help, but I believe you're ready to go already!"
"Um, actually, can you please tie my hair back, Danica? I can't lift my left arm enough to do so," muttered Iona, pleading. She really did hate it when her hair got in the way.
"Oh dear, it was foolish of you to even try doing that. Come here," said Danica, motioning the taller woman to sit down.
Giving the leather strip to Danica, Iona sat down on the chair. Annoying platinum locks were pulled back from her face and tied behind her head tightly.
Smiling in satisfaction, Danica took Iona to the door, telling her what to do and not to do for her shoulder to heal nicely.
Thanking, Iona opened the door. Just as she took one step, Danica called her name. Stopping, she looked back at the older woman in confusion.
"Stop blaming yourself for the things that happened in the past. I can sense wounds in your heart, they are ripping you apart. You can't change the past, but you have the chance to change the future; so don't spend today in the sad memories of the past," said Danica with a small smile of understanding.
Speechless, Iona nodded and turned back in order to get to Jorrvaskr, trying her best not to think about things Danica said.
Iona climbed the steps, examining the huge building. It had an interesting shape, reminding her of an overturned ship. The building was long, probably a single-story one.
Hesitating, she opened the door, only to be greeted by shouts and cheers.
"Did you really think you could beat me with those toothpick arms?!"
"You may have the muscles of a man, but you're slow!"
A crack echoed through the hall, followed by a pained cry.
"You bitch, you... You broke my nose!"
The person who said this was a male Dunmer, a slender man with lean muscles. He was lying on the floor, one hand covering his nose, blood seeping through his fingers. The woman standing in front of him was obviously a Nord; tall, well built and curvy. She was still angry, but the Dunmer lying in front of her was more than angry; he was pissed.
With a war cry, the Dunmer jumped on the woman, bringing her down. They were rolling on the floor, trying to punch each other. With a few successful punches, the Dunmer split open the Nords lip.
People who had been cheering tried prying them apart, but the two were really angry at each other. The Nord man that visited Danica about her at the Temple of Kynareth was holding the Nord woman. He was different than she remembered; his hair was longer, he was a lot more built and taller. On the other side, a blond Nord man with a beard was holding the Dunmer. Both the Dunmer and the Nord woman were trying to get free and lunge at each other, they cursed each other and their captors.
Another Nord woman who had been cheering the fight sobered up and stepped between the trapped couple. "Athis, Njada, don't you think it's enough already? I don't want to lose both of you for a stupid brawl. Also, we have a guest that we have to greet properly."
Suddenly, everybody stopped talking and looked at Iona. She averted her gaze to the ground shyly, blood rushing to her pale cheeks. She felt self conscious, all those pairs of eyes examining her was disturbing.
"Is she the woman who'd been fighting the giant?" asked the dark haired Nord. Weird. He already visited her at the Temple of Kynareth. Was she looking that different after healing and washing up?
"Of course she is, icebrain," said the Nord woman with chestnut colored hair, approaching her. Crossing her arms, she stopped in front of Iona. "I'm Aela the Huntress, a member of the Companions. Have you ever heard of our legendary group of honorable warriors?"
Iona swallowed and shook her head. "You must be new to Skyrim then, even though you're a Nord. Everybody in Skyrim knows who Companions are," said Aela, a calculating look in her olive green eyes. "We found you unconscious near the giant we were supposed to kill, you were in a pretty bad condition so we took you to Danica. You look well enough now, maybe you could tell us who you are."
"I'm Iona Silver-Fang. A simple merchant from Morrowind. I had been looking for new places to trade with as my father wished, I can fight as well. I was attacked by that giant on my way to Whiterun," swallowing, she looked at Aela, praying to any divine that came to her mind, she would believe her lies.
Not truly convinced, Aela motioned her armor and weapons. "And what is a merchant doing with a cuirass and weapons like these? Can you even use those weapons efficiently?"
Annoyed, Iona threw her a dirty look. "Of course I can. My father knew my passion to fight, he used to be a warrior himself, so he taught me all he could. I don't have to prove my strength to you, anyway."
The other people watching the scene sucked in their breaths. A stranger, condescending Aela the Huntress?
Surprisingly, Aela started laughing, heartily. Her laugh echoed in the halls of Jorrvaskr, tears of joy gathered in her eyes. Iona was frustrated, and somewhat scared. Was she making fun of her? Or maybe she would attack her after she stopped laughing? There was nothing to laugh, why was she laughing?!
"I liked your guts, girl. Let me take you to Kodlak, he had been waiting you for a while now, we shouldn't keep the old man waiting anymore."
"...but I still hear the call of the blood."
"We all do. It is our burden to bear. But we can overcome."
"You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don't know if the rest will go along quite so easily."
"Leave that to me."
Clearing her throat, Aela entered the room with Iona walking slowly behind her. "She's here Kodlak. Vilkas, want to join me outside?"
Oh, Vilkas. He was the one who visited Iona at the Temple of Kynareth. The other guy with a much more muscular body and longer hair was probably Vilkas' brother. He looked just as she remembered him, he was frowning at her, with a threatening look in his cold, narrowed eyes. He was clearly annoyed by her presence.
"Thanks for the offer, shield-sister, but I think I'll stay here just a bit longer," said Vilkas, watching Iona closely. She was averting her eyes from his sharp gaze, obviously disturbed by him, good. She should learn her place if Kodlak really were to ask her about joining the Companions.
Aela glowered at Vilkas, who snickered at her in return. When Aela got out, Kodlak extended his hand at Iona. "Hello lass. Good to see you're awake and well. I'm Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger of the Companions. And you are..?"
Iona didn't even hesitate, she held Kodlak's hand, shaking. "I'm Iona Silver-Fang from Morrowind. I'm here in Skyrim in order to get some job done for my father, who is a merchant."
"Oh Morrowind, eh? Tell me, when did you come to Skyrim?"
Taken aback by the question, Iona replied. "Um, about two weeks ago, I guess."
"I see," Kodlak's thoughts were impossible to read, but she knew he was suspicious, and it made her feel uneasy.
Vilkas, on the other hand, watched her closely, examining her. She was obviously a Nord, with platinum blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin but she was shorter than common Nord women. Her chest was also smaller than any Nord woman he'd seen, even though she was curvaceous and not skinny. She had a pretty face; with full lips, sharp eyes and high cheekbones. Again, unlike Nord women, she had an innocent look but it was partly hidden under her scarred face and troubled eyes. Her body was muscular, she had the body of a Nord warrior and he was able to notice a few scars apart from the three angry lines on her left cheek.
She was lying. There was no way the daughter of a simple merchant could be this scarred and built. She also used a war axe and a hide shield, using those weapons in combat required real skill and knowledge. Vilkas laughed inwardly, even Farkas was a better liar than her.
Kodlak nodded at her answer. "Anyway, I'll keep this short, young woman. I believe you're a skilled warrior, I'm sure you had to deal with the wilderness of Skyrim, maybe even with bandits on your way. So, why don't you show us your skill?"
Dumbfounded, Iona looked a the old man, waiting for whatever to come from his mouth next.
"Let's go up to the training grounds, shall we?"
The two man stood up and started walking towards the stairs with Iona in tow.
Seeing the new pretty face with Vilkas and Kodlak, everybody in the mead hall followed the trio to the training grounds.
When outside, Kodlak crossed his arms on his chest. "Well, our guest here will show us her talents," Turning to Iona he motioned Vilkas. "I want you to brawl with Vilkas. Prove us that you're a true Nord, neither he or I will take no as an answer! Prove me that you're worthy of our group, of the Companions!"
The old man probably was laughing at her shocked face. He was kidding, right? She didn't say anything about wanting to join the Companions. What the hell was going on?
Vilkas took his gauntlets and chest plate off, he wore a thin woven sleeveless shirt underneath the heavy armor.
"How long will I have to wait for you to show me your fists like any real Nord would, milk drinker?
The blond Nord she saw earlier burst out laughing, with Aela joining him. Fuming, she took off her gauntlets and leather tunic, putting them near her weapons on a table. She was only clad in her short dress, fur boots and thin pants she put on this morning, thankfully.
She probably should've said no to this brawl, but the painkillers she took earlier were still intact, her shoulder wouldn't be causing any trouble during the brawl.
She walked in front of Vilkas as spectating companions started shouting and cheering.
It was Vilkas who did the first move. He lunged at her, right fist raised high in the air. Using her height to her advantage, Iona dodged the blow easily and landed a punch on Vilkas' stomach.
She knew she hit a right spot when Vilkas doubled over, air knocked out of him, coughing. Seeing the opening, she charged to him, hoping to punch his cheek but he suddenly stretched out his arm, his fist coming in contact with her throat, sending her on the dirt floor.
She couldn't breathe momentarily, her vision blurred and darkened. Coughing, she tried to catch her breath and stand up. Cursing, she sat up, still having difficulty to breathe. When she lifted her head, she saw Vilkas leaning on her for a final blow. Shrieking, she threw herself back, rolled on her shoulders, threw her feet back from her right shoulder and stood up.
Vilkas obviously didn't expect that but it didn't take long for him to come back to his senses and attack once more.
She stood straight as he ran to her with a war cry. She squatted just before his fist collided with her cheek, but he was smart.
He didn't fall for her little trap. He already saw through her plan, instead of losing his footing and falling, he hugged her.
They both fell on the ground with a thud, Iona struggling to breathe under the much heavier man.
Struggling, she tried pushing him off of her; but when she lifted her head, she saw him propped on his forearms on her chest, smirking at her. Her futile attempts to free herself amused him greatly.
She felt her cheeks burn with embarassment. Pushing his chest once more, she huffed. "Finish this already, will you? I have more important things to do!"
Vilkas simply raised a thick, black brow at her. He almost wanted to say she looked cute lying on the ground under him; angry, cheeks red, lips pouted and hair sprawled on the dirt. Of course, he didn't say any of this out loud. She could have a pretty face, but she was a liar, and Vilkas saw her as a threat. He would do "anything" he could to learn the truth about her.
Since Vilkas had no intention of letting her go, she turned to Kodlak, a pleading look on her face. Smiling softly, Kodlak motioned Vilkas to stand up.
Obeying his Harbinger's wish, Vilkas stood up and dusted himself. Iona stood up after him, throwing a death glare to Vilkas. Unfazed by her threatening look, he turned around.
Never turn your back to enemy.
Stupid mistake. Considering it was made by a companion, it was even worse, almost humiliating. As soon as he took a step towards Jorrvaskr, a war cry was heard. Before he could react, Iona was latched to his back, legs tightly wrapped around his hips. She tugged at his hair to pull him down. While shouting expletives and trying to grab the Nord woman behind him, he lost his footing. Iona expected this, so she let him go as soon as he started falling and jumped on his chest instead.
Aela was rolling on the floor, laughing with tears in her eyes. Athis and Njada tried to stifle their laughter, since their wounds and Athis' broken nose were treated but still hurt. Farkas was torn between wanting to help his brother and to mock him for being brought down by a merchant woman. Kodlak was smiling as well, but his thoughts were a lot different than what his façade showed. He already suspected that she may have been lying about her identity, but now he was sure. He knew that she wasn't a wanted criminal, he would've recognized her if she was one. She had been in Skyrim for a while, or she was a trespasser since all borders of Skyrim were closed to everyone but important politicians because of the Civil War. He knew for sure that she wasn't a simple merchant who could use her war axe and shield to protect herself. He knew she was hiding her identity but confronting her about it wouldn't do any good, she probably would flee, but he wanted her to stay.
As a Companion.
Confronting her wasn't even an option, so the only option left was to gain her trust. Even though she was lying to him and being very unsuccessful at it too, he trusted her instinctively. He didn't know why, but he was sure that she would make a fine and trustworthy companion with enough training.
Straddling his hips, Iona punched Vilkas' cheek once, slowly but powerful enough to leave a small bruise. Seeing Vilkas' stunned expression, she crossed her arms and looked at him with a triumphant smile.
Farkas approached to the pair on ground. As the brother of the loser, he though that he should be first to congratulate the winner. When he stopped near the duo, Vilkas suddenly regained his senses at the sight of his brother.
"You cheater! You cheated! This was a brawl with fists!" he shouted, with a slight growl. Iona flinched but she held her ground. He was the first to pull a dirty trick! "How can you even call yourself a Nord with such dishonorable behavior?"
Seeing something flash in her eyes, he knew that he struck a nerve. Oh how Vilkas loved disturbing and intimidating people simply with his tongue. Smirking, he pushed her as far as he could with his venom coated words. "Didn't your precious father teach you how to deal with sharp words, girl? Whatever, even considering you can actually do an honorable job like trading is funny," he lifted himself to a seated position with one swift move. He was so close to her face now and he could smell her fear and her sadness. Her scent, a mixture of honey, leather and sweat, was now combined with her terror, anguish and shame.
She smelled delicious, and he wanted to smell more of her despair.
"What are you girl, a thief? An assassin? Or maybe a deserter who abandoned everyone around her just to save herself, huh?"
That was it.
A single tear made its way down her left cheek, passing her scars. She wanted to run, to scream, to cry until she had no tears left.
But she was powerful and nothing could change that. Even words like a sharp dagger piercing her heart were ineffective. Wiping the single tear on her cheek furiously, she looked at Vilkas in the eye. Her eyes were hard, and her icy blue eyes looked even more cold at that moment. Before Vilkas could understand what was going on, Iona slapped her; hard enough to send his head to the side. His eyes widened with surprise, but before he could grasp what had just happened, she got up.
Kneeling in front of him, she got close to his face. Their faces weren't even an inch apart, her eyes were red with unshed tears when she whispered, with venom and disgust dripping from her words.
"I hate you."
She was gone in an instant. Taking her weapons and armor, she stormed off to the streets of Whiterun. Even Kodlak was too stunned to react, but he knew that this may be the last time they saw her.
She ran in the streets of Whiterun, hitting several people on her way, but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was to leave this place and the people in it. How foolish of her to think she could get close to the people in Jorrvaskr! Even if she refused to admit, she knew that Vilkas was right. She wasn't an honorable Nord, she never had been one with the constant mistakes she made. The Companions, however, were all mighty and honorable warriors. They always brought pride and victory to themselves with every completed mission. Iona, on the other hand, was a disgrace to her kin. She ran away, leaving everyone behind; and she did this more than once.
She was so close to leave the past behind her. She really was, but apparently her haunted past would never leave her alone.
She exit Whiterun without looking back.