Chapter Twenty-Three:

A Visitor

I bought new gear in Dragon's Bridge to replace the things I'd lost. I'd even decided to upgrade, but I kept the simple clothes that Javin had given me. I didn't know when I'd need them next, and I certainly didn't want to buy new equipment all the time in case of...

Anyway, it was pretty apparent (once we'd started on the road to Riften) that Milos was definitely avoiding me. Why else could he, besides what had happened the night before? I felt ashamed just having him around. He was making me want to drown myself. But he also made me angry. Why would he be avoiding me because of that?! When had I ever ignored him because I was afriad?! Milos had never given me a reason to hate him.

But maybe... maybe this new thing was too much for him. It wasn't just taking a toll on him though. Maybe he could just ask how I felt about it, because I could write a friggin' book about it! He wasn't even looking me in the eye anymore...

Our trip to Riverwood took longer than we'd thought. A long day was spent in complete silence, except for the stuff in our packs that rattled and moved with our speed. We set-up camp for the night; the first time since I'd gotten into Skyrim. I missed camping under the stars of Cyrodiil, but Skyrim's was the best I could get at the moment.

Javin stoked the fire while Hiemdall and Cha'qim decided to hunt for food so we wouldn't waste our entire supply. Milos was poking a stick he'd found into the fire, his eyes glazed as he thought. Aldren sat with his back to the fire, gazing out into the darkness. He was taking first-watch.

I laid my head onto a rock and started up at the sky. It was a beautiful night, with no clouds. The stars shone brightly, lights danced across the sky... But the only thing that lessened my mood when I looked at the sky was the moon. I was worried about what'd happen when it became full. Did I really have no control over that thing? I hoped it wasn't the case. The moon that night was waxing, and a half-moon. I didn't have much time to get a safehouse. Even though Hiemdall had wanted us to go to Whiterun to see if Kodlak had made a breakthrough in his research towards curing such a thing, but the Thalmor were after Esbern, and we'd wasted enough time. The old man was our first priority, but we still had to let Delphine know what we were doing, so we were going to Riverwood rather than Riften. I'd lose more time.

Gods, time was always on my mind now. I worried every moment. I had trouble acting like I once had. So much anxiety and fear was balled up inside of me that I couldn't dream of walking into a town, but I still had to. I sighed, closing my eyes to shield my vision from that forboding orb in the sky. Nothing I could do about it, and I hated it.

"Someone's coming," Aldren murmured. "Not sneaking. They're quite clumsy, actually."

We waited in silence as the wanderer came closer. Finally emerging into the light of our campfire, a Nord man with a clean-shaven face and short blonde hair studied us with his blue eyes. He smiled at us, hefting a small sack further onto his shoulder.

"Hello there!" he greeted. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but would you spare some room at your fire? I'm rather lost. I don't know how to make a fire, and I don't have any equipment for camping."

I nodded to Aldren, who nodded to the Nord. "Of course. There are others joining us yet, if you don't mind a large group."

"Not at all. I'll take what I can get." The Nord let out a breath of relief as he plopped down beside the fire to warm himself. "Thank-you all. Need any entertainment? I'm a bard, and I was hired to get to a wedding to play, but I got lost when I was chased off the road by bandits."

"What songs do you know?" Javin asked with a smile.

"Ragnar the Red, the Age of Aggression, the Dragonborn Comes—."

"Age of Aggression," I said immediately.

The Nord laughed. "Not a fan of the others?"

"I don't know Ragnar the Red, but the other one annoys me."

"Heard it too many times, eh?" The Nord shrugged and pulled out a lute from the sack he'd placed by the fire. As he was stringing it, he smiled at me. It didn't take a genius to know he was trying to get "friendly" with me. "Do you play?"

"I took some lessons," I admitted.

I heard Milos snort. He probably thought I was lying, but it was the truth. After he'd left, I found something to occupy myself.

"I usually play the flute so I won't have to sing," the bard said. "What if I played some of the melody so you can sing and use the lute?"

"What if you just stabbed me in the ears?" Milos quipped. "Taryn couldn't sing if her life depended on it!"

I frowned. So that stupid lizard ignores me for an entire day, and then insults me?! Not on my watch!

I stood up and took the lute from the bard and sat down on the rock that my head had previously been laying on. I tuned it carefully while the bard rummaged through his things to get his flute. He grabbed it and then held it triumphantly to me.

"Ready?" he asked.

I shot a glare at Milos and cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. I strummed the lute quickly at first to get my bearings on it, but slowed once I got used to it.

"We drink to our youth, to days come and gone.
For the age of aggression is just about done.
We'll drive out the Stormcloaks and restore what we own.
With our blood and our steel we'll take back our home.
Down with Ulfric! The killer of kings!
On the day of your death we'll drink and we'll sing.
We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives.
And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies!
But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean.
Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams."

When I'd stopped strumming and the bard had finished with his flute, he grinned at me.

"How many times have you heard that tune?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Once."

"Good memory." The Nord gladly accepted his lute back. "Good voice too. Ever wanted to be a bard?"

I snorted. "Sorry, but that's honestly the last thing I'm thinking about right now."

The Nord shrugged and extended a hand. "I'm Stom."

"Taryn Greystone," I said, shaking his hand. "The Arognian over there's Milos, the Dunmer is Aldren Ebor, and the Redguard is Javin Kelco. There are two others in the woods right now. A Nord named Hiemdall Jorgenson, and a Khajiit named Cha'qim."

"Present," the Khajiit exclaimed as she came into the bounds of the fire. "Hiemdall went for a run, so Cha'qim decided to bring our findings back."

"What the hell would he need a run for?" I grumbled, and then mentally facepalmed. Oh, right, I thought so Stom wouldn't hear me. He's a Werewolf. I have to get used to that...

Cha'qim smiled, flashing white fangs. "Four rabbits. Hiemdall told Cha'qim that he heard we had company, so we got one more."

"Ah, thank-you," Stom said. Cha'qim and Javin began to fasten the rabbits around a home-made spit when Stom decided to break our still-uneasy silence. "So... what would a motley crew like you all be doing? Adventurers, perhaps? Or are you some sort of bandit clan?"

Milos chuckled, the sound of it deep in his chest, but somehow loud enough for us all to hear. Even Aldren cracked a smile. But now that some of my attention was on the assassin, I could see how tense he was. Was the bard really threatening him that much?

"I guess we'd be closer to adventurers," I told him.

Stom smirked. "I got confused. I mean, you look like you belonged to a bandit clan, at least. Where'd you get that scar?"

I frowned. My scar was still sensative, so it caused me a bit of pain. I resisted the urge to wince from it.

"Nowhere." Ah, the typical "don't-talk-to-me-about-it" answer.

Stom dropped the subject and began to inspect his lute. We listened to the crackling fire for a while before Aldren turned to look at the Nord.

"You said you were going to play at a wedding?" he inquired.

Stom nodded, grinning at the Dark Elf. "A large wedding, at that! Shame I've gotten lost!"

"Wouldn't happen to be the wedding of Vittoria Vici and Asgeir Snow-Shod?"

"Heard about that? Yeah, I'm to be their bard."

Aldren snorted and stood up. His hands lowered onto the hilts of his glass daggers. "How long have you been lost, Nord?"

"I don't know. Lost track of the time."

"And yet here you are." Aldren started to slide his daggers out of their sheathes. I stood up, holding a hand out in warning. Aldren ignored it. "Vittoria Vici was killed more than four weeks ago by a gargoyle that fell on top of her as she and her fiance were saying their vows."

Stom's eyes widened. "Really?! That's terrible!"

"And to be lost in the wilderness of Skyrim for weeks without stumbling upon any settlements is just too much," Aldren growled. "You've had a fresh change of clothes within the last two days. Your bag only holds musical instruments. Somehow, I find it curious."

"I was chased off the road by bandits—!"

Aldren pressed the glass daggers against Stom's throat. The bard slowly stood and began to back away. Fire erupted into Javin's hands as Cha'qim drew her longsword and dagger. Milos put his hand on the grip of his greatsword. All eyes were on the bard.

Stom sighed. "Ah, well. I should've known that she'd have gotten someone like you along."

"Who are you?!" Aldren demanded.

Stom was still walking backwards. He smiled, but it wasn't a friendly one any longer. "Your worst nightmare." In the quickest movement I'd ever seen, Stom lunged towards Aldren. But then the "quickest movement" trophy was taken away from Stom and given to Aldren. As if he knew what Stom was about to do, Aldren ducked from his lunge and slammed both fists into Stom. The Nord staggered back, and then spat, "Vampire."

"You masked your scent," the assassin stated, "Werewolf."

My heart dropped into my stomach, but at least I had the common sense to draw my sword. My hands were shaking viciously as I locked gazes with Stom. Milos drew his greatsword out fully and held it in front of himself.

"You lot should really be careful at night," Stom mused, licking his lips. "There could be monsters lurking about." Stom grinned. "But I see you have some in your company already."

I froze. "Take that back," I growled.

Stom smirked and then punched Aldren in the face. As the assassin was recovering from the blow, Stom dove overtop of Cha'qim, evading her blades, and then had me by my neck. Never mind. Aldren had to give the trophy back.

I brought my sword down, hoping to cut his arm off, but he flicked it away and spun me around, holding my neck with the crook of his elbow. He was cutting-off my air. I struggled in his grasp.

"Take one more step and Taryn Greystone will be no more than a body," he growled. When no one moved, he smiled. I cringed when he started to sniff my neck. "Ooh. Finally, a decent female. I was beginning to wonder if there were any left in Skyrim."

"Let go...!" I struggled more, but Stom's hold remained firm. Bastard!

"Hircine wanted one of his best to find a suitable mate!" Stom laughed. "It's a great feeling when one fulfills his master's wish!"

"So, Hircine is behind this?" Javin smirked. "That Prince owes me a favour, dog."

Stom made a sound in his chest that resembled a growl, but his hold on me loosened. I gulped all the air I could get, in case he decided to start choking me again.

"It's not just for Hircine. It's also for me. And I'm not giving this bitch up!" he said, the growl evident in his voice. "Follow if you want, I'll just kill—."

A huge mass slammed into us, knocking Stom and I to the ground. I rolled a few feet away from Stom and stopped on my back, staring up to the sky. I shook my head and rolled gently onto my stomach, breathing as much as I could.

A Werewolf had Stom pinned to the ground. It was a massive thing, definitely larger than Aela had been, and seemed to be stronger. Its yellow eyes glared at Stom hatefully as it growled, showing obvious displeasure. I was about eighty-percent sure it was Hiemdall.

A roar tore out of Stom's throat as he managed to get Hiemdall off of him, though how, I had no idea. Hiemdall didn't hesitate to leap at Stom once more and tackle him away from the light of the fire. The two tore each other up, though I couldn't see them doing it. Milos grabbed the neck of my leather armour and hefted me up into a standing position, all of our eyes watching the darkness warily.

"You okay?" Milos asked quickly.

I nodded. "That was creepy. Remind me never to let anyone smell me again."

We heard a whine. Hiemdall staggered into the light of the campfire, a clawed hand holding his muzzle. Blood was pouring out of all sorts of wounds on his body.

"Hiemdall!" I hurried towards him, but was forced to a stop when another Werewolf, somehow bigger than Hiemdall, blocked my way. It growled at me, towering overtop of me. "Oh, shit."

Milos charged forward, yelling a battle-cry. Aldren leapt over the spit of the forgotten rabbit carcasses and spun his daggers. Cha'qim threw her dagger at Stom, which embedded itself into his side while Javin quickly mumbled for spells.

I was knocked onto my back with relative ease, and then (while ignoring everything else) Stom grabbed my shoulder with a clawed hand and began to drag me. Sweeping his other arm around, he hit Milos in the face, but not before Milos managed to sink his greatsword into Stom's arm. Stom roared and swiped at Aldren, who was getting too close to him. Aldren had to leap back, but Stom nicked his chest with his claws, tearing through his armour like butter. Cha'qim leapt onto his back and raked him with her claws, ignoring her own sword. Stom latched onto the Khajiit and threw her off of him, into Milos and Javin.

Stom dragged me into the woods, further away from my companions. I summoned fire magicka into my palms and aimed the spell at Stom, but he didn't like it when his fur caught fire. Stom launched me into a tree. I slammed into it, hard, and slid down in a daze. A sound came from Stom's muzzle that resembled a laugh.

I grinned at him. "Laugh now, you son of a bitch. You won't be soon."

Stom moved quickly towards me and sunk his teeth into my already-wounded shoulder. I screamed as he dragged his fangs around, tearing up more of my flesh. It burned like I'd spilt acid on myself, shook salt into my wounds, doused myself in poison and leapt into a fire all at once. I grabbed a tuft of Stom's fur, all by his neck, and pulled him away from me. Stom howled and bit at my hand. I released him before he could bite me again.

I smiled at him as his yellow eyes met my green. "Fus Ro Dah!"

Stom was catapulted backwards into trees, but he broke through them. I hoped it hurt more. He landed in a crumpled heap, whining in pain. I shakily got to my feet as Stom was. I could already hear my companions coming. I took a few steps forward, and then Stom ran at me.

"Fus Ro Dah!" I repeated.

Stom managed to evade the brunt of my Shout, but he still rolled and fell backwards. And yet, he got up again.

"Don't you ever give up?!" I yelled. "FUS RO DAH!"

Stom was blasted away, and this time, when he landed, he stayed down. I collapsed onto my knees. The Shouts drained me, more than I'd thought. Especially the last one. My breath was coming in ragged gasps and my throat was raw, but I could hear my companions.

But the pain got to me before they did.

I screamed in agony, my already pained throat feeling like it could collapse. I cris-crossed my arms around me, as if I could hold everything in. It was unbelievable! Just like—.

NO! I thought, panicked. No, no, no! No way! This can't be happening!

So many thoughts raced through my head. If I could just focus on one, I could probably stop it. Maybe. I had no idea!

"Taryn?!" Milos' voice carried through the trees. "Where are you?!"

I bit my tongue, drawing blood. Maybe they wouldn't find me. I needed to concentrate. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I didn't want anything like that to happen, especially not to the people who'd pledged their allegiances, their loyalties, and their lives to me!

I just wanted to sit still, hope that I could ride the pain and get over it, but I needed to focus. If a million thoughts were racing through my head, and one of them contained the knowledge that my friends were coming this way, I needed to leave.

I got up and ran. I needed to find a way to think of one thing. I slammed myself into a tree, as if a different sort of pain could help. No such luck. I released a muffled cry as my ribs started to break, one by one, but I continued on. Tears streaked down my face as the pain only intensified, but soon I got an idea.

I found a stream! One deep enough that I could shove my face into! If air became the soul thing I had to think about, then maybe I could supress... this!

I pushed my face into the water and held it there with one of my hands. My screams helped me to lose air, which only brought me closer to my goal. When one of my legs broke, I screamed harder. A thought tickled the back of my mind. I needed to bring my head up for air. I ignored it.

Seconds later, the thought returned, more urgent this time. I beat it and shoved it into a corner of my head. I hoped that my crazy-ass idea would work. And then it came again, and my body almost listened to it. Somehow, my willpower was just a bit stronger than that thought. My lungs burned for air, and that became the only pain I knew. I'd take it over what my body was going through.

I had to resist bringing my head up for air. It wasn't easy. My muscles bunched up, begging me to come up for air. In a few seconds, I would. I would! But I had to make sure—!

A hand grabbed my good shoulder and tugged me away from the stream. I coughed and sputtered, water escaping my lungs and air replacing it. I felt relief wash ovre me as the pain subsided. I was still me. I was still Taryn.

My breathing eventually became normal as I laid on my back. Hiemdall's huge wolfen face blocked my view of the sky. His eyes were full of worry, even if they weren't the eyes I recognized.

I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed. It was all I could do. I just hoped that my ribs were back in place and my leg was normal. I didn't want to go adventuring on a broken leg.

Hiemdall let out a sound like a laugh. He was laughing with me, though I didn't know why. He probably didn't know why I was laughing, either. Not that it mattered.

"Thanks," I murmured. "You saved my butt."

Hiemdall was probably smiling. I couldn't really tell. He lowered his head and pressed his wet nose against my forehead.

"I owe you." I reached up and petted his head. "Don't tell anyone I was drowning myself though."

Hiemdall laughed again.