A/N: Hello everyone! Here's chapter 28, hope you all enjoy! Thank you all for reading/following/faving/reviewing, and putting up with my constant lateness (sorry!). I appreciate it all! See you next week!
Chapter 28: Unsure
"What?" Arnbjorn stared at her blankly, as she noted a look of near-disbelief on his features. Suddenly realizing the strange intensity of what she'd admitted, Astrid began to feel uncharacteristically nervous and awkward around him. Perhaps he'd consider her deluded and mad, but seeing as the powerful feelings inside herself had clearly overpowered her, she simply stood there, waiting on him expectantly.
He paused briefly, his eyes never leaving her. As much as a part of her wanted to, she simply couldn't tear her gaze away from him. As much as her defenses wanted to kick in and downplay her emotions or quickly shrug things off and distance herself, she simply couldn't. Deep down Astrid realized that this man had seen things about her - dark, hidden things that had caused her to lose love and affection time and again. She couldn't admit it to herself, but she secretly feared his rejection. That saddened, desperate, fragile girl inside found herself clinging to the hope that he wouldn't backpedal from his previous position. She wanted his acceptance of her statement - needed it. Unconsciously, Astrid began to breathe quickly and clinch her fists, bracing herself for his reaction.
Finally, like a breath of fresh air, he released the tension built between them once more as he began to smirk. "Heh heh...I've seen some crazy women in my life, but this is the first time I've seen one to match the likes of me."
Astrid sighed through her nose, letting out the pent up fears and anxieties within. Somehow, he was right. In some uncanny way, it was as if she was staring straight into a part of herself when she looked into his cold, blue eyes. Relief was an understatement when it came to the way she was currently feeling from his words of not only acceptance, but perhaps even a strange form of admiration.
Her jubilant emotions spilled onto her lips, forming a very telling smile. "I guess there's a first time for everything." she shrugged, trying her best to downplay her excitement.
"You've got that right." he casually agreed, causing Astrid to wonder if he was, in fact, using the same method of understating his emotions that she was. She watched as he briefly looked away from her, as if contemplating something. "So you couldn't sleep, or what?"
Astrid ran her fingers through her hair, feeling rather uncomfortable about the subject altogether. "You could say that."
"That makes two of us." he muttered to himself, seeming equally unhappy.
"Really?" Astrid asked, deeply curious and quite astounded by their similarities all at once.
"Yeah, having the blood of a wolf doesn't exactly lull a person into sleep, if you know what I mean." he explained, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hey, uh...Since neither of us are likely to sleep any time soon...I sometimes go out and have a few drinks from time to time - you know, get outta this blasted hole for a bit when I'm wide awake..." he began, as Astrid's insides began to tingle. "It's not like we'll have contracts any time soon, anyway. You wanna go?"
Inside, Astrid felt like a giddy child. Of course, she still felt apprehensive about revealing just how elating her feelings were, so she simply shrugged. "Sure."
Astrid glanced around the dim tavern, her eyes fixating on the burning coals in the firepit that rested in the middle of the area. Seeing as it was incredibly late, she and Arnbjorn were the only two patrons in the whole place. "So, what's this place called again?" she began, her eyes focusing back to him and noting that he'd been staring at her while her gaze was elsewhere. The intensity of his eyes caused her to avert her own once more.
"The Dead Man's Drink." he answered, before waving the barkeep over and requesting two ales.
"Hmmm...Interesting name." Astrid remarked, watching the soft amber glow of the flames illuminate the contours of his masculine features.
"Yeah, it's some kind of running joke here. This whole damned town is obsessed with death. They say Falkreath has the biggest graveyard in Skyrim. I guess it's fitting, considering we live next to them." he grinned slightly, taking his drink from the barkeep as Astrid did the same.
"You could say that." she returned his crooked smile, before taking a sip. She preferred wine, but the ale was stout and satisfying, along with the soothing crackling of the flames. For the first night among many, she felt relaxed and almost peaceful. Only the slow pounding of her heart reminded her of the uneasy assortment of delightful feelings this man had stirred inside of her. Of course, he had also stirred her curiosities. "So, how did you end up where you are now?"
He shot her a brief look that could only be described as a slight glare. "You first." he retorted, clearly uneasy.
"You already know my story. You were watching me, remember?" she raised an eyebrow, turning the tables once more.
"Hmpf." he grunted, downing his first tankard before waving the barkeep over for a second round. "Alright. I already told you about those scatter-brained Companions. That's how I became what I am. After I went my own way, I dabbled around as a mercenary for a while. I used my new abilities to my advantage. That's how all those damned rumors got started."
Astrid chuckled, starting to feel more relaxed due to her potent drink. "Those rumors weren't that awful."
"Except for all the 'fleeing from Whiterun' tripe. Probably some bullshit story those meatheads made up to save face after I backed them into a corner. All that honor and glory nonsense is just an excuse to play it safe and stroke their egos. They're nothing but glorified exterminators." he huffed, clearly irritated with that part of his past.
"Just why did you join them, anyway?" she asked, intrigued by his reactions.
"Damn, woman. You don't let up, do you?" he sighed.
Astrid sipped the last drop of her first tankard, before wearing a satisfied grin. "Just curious." she shrugged, feigning innocence.
"Let's just say it was a misunderstanding on my part." he muttered, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "When I was a boy, I looked up to my father. My mother died giving birth to me, and he was all I had. He was the toughest, most rutheless man I've ever known. One of the biggest damned Nords I've ever seen, too. He was a sell sword - lived by his own rules, made his own way. He was as mean as they come, but I never went without food on my plate. When I'd reached only eight winters, he began to train me. By my thirteenth, he was dead. He left on a contract and never returned."
Astrid watched him intently, fixated on his every movement. His normally fierce expression grew to be somewhat distant and an ever-so-subtle tone of sadness laced his gravelly voice.
"When I heard about the Companions, I figured them to be just as strong and daring as my father. I'd heard rumor that some of their members had contracted Lycanthropy, and the thought of that power only made my hunger to join that much stronger. I eventually did join them - I was a grown man by then. I participated in all their stupid initiations and customs, and I chose to carry the blood of the wolf myself - the only part I don't regret. Of course, after time I'd grown to realize that these people were nothing like my father. Nothing like me. The day they told me that my ways - my father's ways - were too 'unorthodox' for their liking, I snapped. I dared them to come at me. I transformed right in the halls of Jorrvaskr. Those bastards were lucky I didn't take their heads right then and there. Long story short, I did as my father before me. I became a sword for hire - that is, until the Dark Brotherhood recognized my talents for slaughtering others. That's pretty much it. There, ya happy now?" he grunted, obviously hoping she was satisfied with his answer.
Astrid smiled innocently. "Quite."
"Alright then." Arnbjorn smirked, finishing up his second drink. "You've had your fun. Now it's my turn to ask the questions."
"Oh, really?" Astrid asked playfully, resting her chin on her fist. "Do ask away, then."
"What were you doing hanging around that bunch of pickpockets?" he inquired, his voice laced with something akin to annoyance.
"Oh..." Astrid instantly drew back, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. Traces of painful memories mixed with anger and disappointment began to trickle in. Of course, he had complied with her request for knowledge, despite his own discomfort. The least she could do was try to return the favor. "Let's just say that you weren't the only one who had a misunderstanding. Someone I once thought of as a friend was supposed to help me join the Thieves' Guild and get away from my uncle. Needless to say, that wasn't what happened. I thought it would be my way out, but they were nothing but a bunch of liars."
"Yep. Sounds like the same Thieves' Guild I've known all these years. Too crooked to be honorable and too cowardly to actually do any real damage. Doesn't surprise me that they'd screw you over." Arnbjorn agreed, instantly pulling Astrid's attention back to the present. For the first time, someone had seen them exactly as she had. As a matter of fact, Arnbjorn saw many things just as Astrid had. It was a beautiful feeling of validation, actually.
"I left the likes of them. They swore they didn't kill people because it was bad for business, yet they were hiring you to kill their own right under each other's noses. I didn't want to always be watching my back." Astrid admitted, revealing more of her concerns. It felt so freeing to be able to openly discuss these matters with another person.
"That's the good thing about the Brotherhood. We may be assassins, but we're pretty open about gutting people like slaughterfish." he chuckled, signaling for his third ale. "I think you made a good choice."
"Yeah, me too." she agreed, smiling as she glanced away.
"Our leader is an asshole, but the rest of us are pretty tolerable. I guess that's what makes me stay after all this time." Arnbjorn mumbled, relaxing in his chair as his drinking began to affect him.
"Why don't you like him?" Astrid furrowed her brow, still baffled as to why Arnbjorn felt that way.
"Look, none of these little groups are what they claim to be, and the Dark Brotherhood is no exception. I was promised not only coin for my assassinations, but plenty of it. That means plenty of contracts. Zirath didn't hold up on his part of the bargain. Contracts have been dwindling ever since. He sends his pet cat out to find them, and then what Zirath does with them, gods only know. To my knowledge, sell swords are making quite a profit around here, while we're barely scraping by. And to boot it all, he's taking half our profits!" he growled, slamming his drink on the table. "I would've already left this dump if it wasn't for the others."
Astrid remained silent for a moment, taking it all in. Was this the truth, or just a simple case of two strong personalities butting heads? It certainly didn't make any sense, considering Arnbjorn had supposedly helped convince Zirath to recruit her. "Wait...If the Dark Brotherhood is doing so terribly, then why did you urge Zirath to take me in?" she questioned, in need of some clarity.
Arnbjorn sighed, chugging the contents of his third tankard quite impressively. The man could certainly handle his alchohol, Astrid mused. "Look...You'd just killed a man - a man who dealt with all kinds of sons of bitches who could come up there and slit your throat at any moment. That thief fellow you were hanging around certainly wasn't doing you any favors by taking his damned time with things. That's why you had to kill that bastard uncle of yours in the first place! Zirath may be an idiot, but the Dark Brotherhood is where you belong. You'll be safe with us. Besides, you're a natural." he shrugged, as things began to make more sense to Astrid. "You'd be here anyway, even if I hadn't said a word. Dar'Sien seemed to take a liking to you, and he's more or less Zirath's right-hand."
"Ah, let me guess. You don't like Dar'Sien either, do you?" Astrid smirked, prying for more information.
Arnbjorn chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nah, he's not the one I'm worried about - he's just a fence. He follows coin, and if I gave him enough he'd do as I asked, too. Problem is, Zirath has almost all the coin - the power. Besides, Dar'Sien is a bloody cat. Can't expect too much from him."
Astrid grinned, somehow relieved by the fact that Arnbjorn didn't seem to have any issues with other members. Perhaps it was mostly because she figured things would be more simple that way. Contrary to Arnbjorn's attitudes, Astrid couldn't help but to find Zirath's company quite enjoyable. Of course, her opinions on things had been changed before. They could always change again.
