CHAPTER THREE – BLOOD TIES

There was a moment of silence. It would have been hard for there to have been anything else, since the Redguard didn't seem to like speaking all that much, Sissel was unsure of what to say, and both the Dunmer woman and Constance seemed to be waiting for someone else. But in the end, it fell to Constanceto smile brightly and ask, 'Do you two know each other?'

'We met,' the Redguard said simply.

'Once,' the Dunmer added, in the same kind of tone Jouane always used when he thought Sissel was being too confident about her magic. That warning tone, that be careful about what you're getting into tone. The man cast a swift, unreadable glance at her, and she raised her eyebrows.

Sissel decided to explain to Constance before she could become any more confused than she clearly already was. 'He was travelling through Rorikstead. I cut my knee and he gave me a healing potion.'

'That was kind of you.' Constance clasped her hands together. 'So, well…'

Her voice trailed off, and Sissel didn't blame her. She was bewildered too. She could have understood a friend like Jouane travelling to Riften to see her, but a stranger she'd only spoken to once? No, that didn't make sense. She had a feeling the question she wanted to ask was a little rude, but she couldn't think of anything else to say, and she did want to know the answer. So she went ahead and asked it. 'Why did you come to see me?'

The Redguard turned his head to the side and didn't answer. Out of the corner of her eye, Sissel noticed the elf woman roll her eyes. 'On passing through Rorikstead recently,' she said, 'the news reached him that your father had been killed. He wanted to ensure that you were… being cared for.'

'We take good care of the children,' Constance said, an edge of indignation creeping into her voice.

The Redguard looked at Sissel, and tilted his head slightly. Quizzically. And somehow – she wasn't sure how – Sissel knew what he was asking. Is that true?

'Constance looks after us really well,' she assured him.

'Well, surely you didn't come all this way to ask that.' Constance was frowning.

'Already in Riften.' The Redguard gave a small shake of his head. 'No trouble.'

'We had business here already,' his companion explained. 'We thought we might as well take the time to visit. And now – ' She turned to face the Redguard – 'Your question's been answered, and we have business elsewhere.'

But Constance, Sissel had learned during her time at the Honourhall, was what Jouane would have called an opportunist. Sissel had seen her writing out countless letter for the guards to distribute, all with the words Consider Adoption written in bold black ink at the top. And almost every visitor to the orphanage – even the Jarl's steward, when she'd come to inspect the place – had been asked the same thing. So Sissel wasn't surprised when the orphanage owner said quickly, 'Perhaps you'd like to stay for dinner. We've food to spare, and you can meet the children, and –'

'We didn't come here to meet the children,' the elf said firmly.

The Redguard sent another glance in her direction. 'Jenassa.'

'We didn't,' she insisted. 'You've seen the girl, and she's safe.'

'More than that.'

Sissel did not understand this statement at all, but the Dunmer – Jenassa – seemed to. 'I understand that isn't all there is to it, but – there's nothing more to be done.'

'Well, if you want to help, you could consider adoption,' Constance said, with the usual brightness with which she said the phrase.

'I think not.' Jenassa stepped forward and put her hand on her companion's arm, clearly intended to pull him away, but he stayed firmly still.

Sissel's heartbeat quickened.

Jenassa let out a sigh. 'Ozan,' she said, in that same warning tone.

Ozan. So he had a name. Suddenly he didn't seem so strange. He was a person, like any other, and he'd come to the Honourhall to check that she was all right for no other reason than to be nice. He had helped her when she'd been hurt, giving her one of his own healing potions, and he'd talked to her and asked why she was out in the cold. And he could fight dragons.

Thinking of dragons made her remember that dream she'd had about the old, grey dragon, and the noble, gentle way it had looked at her. The Redguard man, Ozan, had looked at her the same way that night in Rorikstead, and he was looking at her like that now. And that was what did it. Hearing his name. He suddenly became a person, and that was what made her decide that she liked him, that she trusted him.

For the first time, she wondered who the Dunmer was. Ozan had called her Jenassa, but that didn't say anything about who she was. Like him, she carried a sword, though hers was straight-bladed. She seemed to speak for him when he didn't want to, so she must know him well enough to be able to understand what he was thinking. A close friend? A fellow adventurer? His wife, even?

The only thing Sissel could tell about her for certain was that she didn't seem thrilled by his hesitation. 'Ozan, that is not why we came.'

'Plans change,' he said, shrugging.

'And why should this one? It isn't a good idea.' She directed this statement not only to him, but to Sissel and Constance. 'I'm sorry, but you know that it isn't.'

'Maybe you should discuss this privately,' Constance said, still in that same bright voice. 'It's a big decision, after all.'

'There is no decision!' Jenassa said forcefully.

'My choice,' Ozan countered.

'Yours alone? I don't think I noticed myself vanishing.'

Probably his wife.

There was another short silence; then Ozan gestured towards the door. 'Privately?'

She gave a single, sharp nod. 'That would be better.'

Without another word, he marched over to the door and pushed it open. Jenassa followed him out, and the door swung shut.

'What very strange people,' Constance remarked.

Sissel agreed, but decided not to say so. Strange wasn't always a bad thing. You shouldn't talk to strangers, Jouane said, but Ozan had helped her and been kind to her and now he'd come to Riften to make sure that she was all right. He might be strange, but he was also kind. At least, he seemed to be, from what she'd seen of him so far.

'Might as well keep setting the table.' Constance headed back over to it and picked up the bowls that Sissel had let drop when she'd heard the Redguard say her name. 'I'm sure they won't be long. As long as they do come back.'

That last sentence was muttered under her breath, and Sissel decided that for Constance's sake, she'd pretend she hadn't heard it. So she busied herself with setting out the knives and forks and cups, not looking away from her work but keeping her ears alert for anything she might overhear of whatever conversation was going on outside.

Ozan and Jenassa seemed to be having their private discussion close to the orphanage walls, and so here and there, Sissel could discern the blur of sound that was their voices. And just occasionally, there were words – at least, she could hear some of what Jenassa was saying, but Ozan's voice seemed to be permanently fixed at a level just above a whisper, and it was impossible to heard through the walls.

'Of course I sympathise,' the Dunmer said at one point, and then, after a lengthy pause, 'You're not normally one to do things on impulse.' A pause, presumably while Ozan responded. 'All right, but you're not the one you need to consider here. She seems well-cared for. Can you do better?' Pause. 'Yes, that's a possibility.' Another, longer pause, followed by more words from Jenassa that Sissel couldn't catch. 'And when she does, what will you do?'

At last, the creak of the door announced their return. Sissel turned to watch them enter. Ozan's face was lined with thought; Jenassa was looking at him with what Sissel thought might be concern. Constance moved towards them, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

'We're considering,' Ozan said.

'Wonderful!' Constance breathed; Sissel didn't miss the slight squeak of delight that the final syllable of the word turned into. 'Perhaps you'd like to speak to Sissel and her sister – or to the others –'

'Sister?' Jenassa said sharply.

A cold feeling of disappointment settled in Sissel's gut; so far, Ozan had shown an interest in her, only her. Might he stop considering when he learned that if he wanted to take in Sissel, he would have to take in Britte alongside her?

And that surprised her, her disappointment. Because if she was disappointed, then she must be happy that he was considering it. Being adopted by someone she barely knew… shouldn't that be frightening? But she'd seen nothing but kindness, if quiet, withdrawn, kindness, from this man. More than she'd ever seen from her father.

Maybe that was what Jouane had meant, about family being more than shared blood.

'You never said there were two.' Jenassa turned to give Ozan an accusing glare.

He gave a tiny shake of his head. 'Didn't know.'

'Well, now you do. And what are you going to do about it?'

Sissel saw something that might have been pain flicker over his face. 'Siblings shouldn't be separated.'

'Wait.' Sissel blurted out the word without really thinking about what she was doing. 'Britte and I… we don't really get on all that well.'

Ozan frowned, and there was no questioning the expression he wore now – it was confusion. 'She wouldn't come?'

'I don't know. You'd have to ask her. But she doesn't really like me, and…'

'It doesn't seem right to split you up.' Constance clasped her hands together nervously. 'They're twins, you see, and I don't think they've ever been apart before. But it's true that Britte doesn't spend much time with Sissel – '

'Why are you talking about me?' asked a very familiar voice.

Sissel turned to see Britte standing leaning against the doorway, with Samuel, Hroar and Francois standing a little way behind her. Of course, they must have come to investigate why their evening meal was taking so long to arrive. And now Britte was looking at Sissel with more than a little suspicion.

'You boys should probably leave us for a while,' Constance said quickly, hurrying forwards to usher them off. 'Sissel and Britte have something important to discuss.'

'Like what?' Britte demanded.

'Like the people who are considering adopting your sister, who seems open to the idea,' Jenassa said bluntly, folding her arms. 'And said people didn't know that you came as part of the package.'

'Jenassa, that's rude,' Ozan said quietly.

The Dunmer glanced at him, at Britte, back at him, and then sighed. 'Yes. I'm sorry.'

'Why do you want to do that?' Britte demanded.

'Adopt your sister?' Jenassa let out a huff. 'That question requires a complicated answer.'

'She needs a home. We're willing to give it.' Ozan shrugged. 'Not complicated.'

'I wasn't talking to you.' Sissel could count on her fingers the number of times Britte had looked her in the eye, not merely shot scornful glances her way, but now she would have to add to their number. 'Sissel, why do you want to go with them?'

Sissel twisted her head around to look at them. Why did she? In fact, did she at all? She was looked after here. Constance took good care of her, and Runa was her friend. It was safe, and it was nice enough. But… it wasn't hers. Lemkil had been a terrible father, but he'd been her father. Their family life had been painful, but it had still been her family life. She was happy in the Honourhall, but Constance showed her as much affection as she did all the others. Was it selfish, to want something that was personal? Someone who cared about her?

And Ozan… maybe she barely knew him, but he'd been kind to her. Kinder than Lemkil or Britte ever had. She wasn't so sure about Jenassa, but the elf seemed more worried than hostile. What she was worried about, Sissel had no idea, but the fact that she was prickly didn't mean that she was a bad person.

'Why wouldn't I want to?' she demanded.

'Because you don't know these people.' Britte was staring at her as if she were mad. 'And it's safe here.'

'She'll be safe with us, too,' Jenassa countered, and Sissel looked at her in surprise. It was the first thing Jenassa had said to suggest that she wanted this as much as Ozan seemed to.

'But things are OK here,' Britte protested.

'Why do you care?' Sissel hadn't intended to get angry – she hadn't even noticed herself getting angry – but suddenly she was raising her voice. 'You've never cared about me! You've beaten me up and picked on me every chance you ever got! You were always just as bad as our father!'

Britte kicked at the wooden floor. 'If you're going, I'm staying.'

'That's not an answer! Why did you do it, Britte? And why do you suddenly care now?'

'Who says I care? I just don't want to go.'

'Then why don't you care? You're my sister!'

'That doesn't mean I have to like you!'

'So why are you worried about me going?'

'I just don't get why you want to.'

'Maybe because I want a family, and the only one I've ever known is a father who beat me up and a sister who – who was… I don't know, you!'

'Girls!' Constance stepped between them, her eyes wide. 'Please, it's not worth fighting over. Let's solve this peacefully.'

'I'm not going with her.' Britte shook her head firmly. 'I don't want to. I like it here!'

There was something in her voice that Sissel had never heard there before – at least, not at any time other than when their father had just struck her. Tears. And suddenly Sissel's anger melted, because perhaps for the first time in her life, she saw her sister. Saw her for what she was. A scared girl who'd grown up under their father's fists, so quick to strike and so hard-hitting. And as Jouane had said countless times, Lemkil was doing more than giving them bruises. He was hurting something inside them.

And Sissel had had Jouane there to make things a little easier. Britte had had no one. Not even her sister, who had been too scared to try to help. Sissel had always thought that she was the one who was worst hurt, with both her father and her sister as her enemies, but maybe… maybe all along, Britte had had the worst of it. And here, Britte felt loved by Constance and safe from anyone who might try to hurt her. She had friends for the first time in her life. Why should she want to leave? Family had never done any good for her.

And maybe, just maybe, now that she was around people who were kind to her… maybe Britte was beginning to regret all those times she'd picked on Sissel. Maybe, somewhere deep down, she was worried about her sister being given into the hands of strangers.

But Sissel still found it hard to summon up any feelings of love for the twin who'd given her almost as many bruises as her father. Any loyalty she felt to Britte came from the fact that they'd been together in the same womb. That was the only reason. Maybe the bitterness between them was stronger than any blood ties they shared.

'Britte,' she said quietly. 'If I go with Ozan and Jenassa… will you stay behind?'

Her twin stared at her for a few moments, then gave a single, decisive nod. 'Yes. Yes, I will. I want to stay here.'

Constance breathed in deeply. 'I'm not sure you can make that decision so quickly, Britte. After all, this is your sister – '

'That doesn't mean we're friends,' Britte muttered.

'Constance, we fight all the time, we always did.' Sissel turned to the orphanage owner, pleading with her with her eyes. 'If I want to go, then it's not fair to make Britte go too if she doesn't want to – and I'd be happy going without her.'

'And I'd be happy staying.' Britte shot Sissel a look that seemed almost grateful as she said the words.

Jenassa took a step towards them and fixed Sissel with her crimson gaze. 'Then I think the first thing that needs to be decided is whether or not you want to come with us.'

Sissel drew in a long, slow breath. It didn't take much thinking about, really. She was a little scared, of course she was, but… she was willing to take the risk.

'Yes.'

Behind her, she let Ozan let out a breath. He didn't sound relieved, or frightened, or anything, really. Not as far as she could tell. It was just a sound, an acknowledgement of her decision.

'I'm not coming.' Britte crossed her arms over her chest to underline her point. 'I'm sorry, I just don't want to.'

Did Britte just apologise for something?

'Well… there's nothing in the law of the Hold that says siblings can't be separated if someone wants to adopt one but not the other.' Constance rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. 'And if the girls are happy with this arrangement… I suppose it's all right.'

'I'm happy with it,' Sissel said quickly.

Britte nodded. 'So am I.'

And now we're agreeing with each other. Weird.

'Then, um… there are a few forms that need to be signed. And some questions I'll need you to answer, just to make sure you're actually eligible.' Constance spoke in a rush; she seemed overwhelmed by the fact that after all her efforts, someone was finally going to be adopted. 'If it's easiest for you, we can arrange for Sissel to be escorted to your residence by a Hold guard, though it might take some days, or –'

Ozan shook his head. 'Safer with us.'

Sissel took that to mean that he thought she'd be safer with them, and she was inclined to agree. The man killed dragons, for the Gods' sakes. And it would be nice, passing the journey with them. She could get to know them.

If Jenassa became a little less prickly and Ozan decided to talk more, at least.

'Well, if you'll just step this way, I'll see if I can find the forms. They're in my office – I've never actually had a chance to use them before, you see.' Constance beckoned them forwards, then stopped dead. 'I still haven't served dinner.'

'We can do it ourselves, Constance,' Sissel said quickly.

'If you're sure.' Constance bent down so she could smile at Sissel on the same level. 'And Sissel – you might want to pack your things and say goodbye to everyone.'

'I will.' Was there anyone here she would actually miss? She liked everyone, maybe even Britte, and she really liked Runa and Constance, but… she didn't think that saying goodbye to the Honourhall would be all that hard. It might be harder for Runa, in fact, that in would be for her. She'd be the only girl again – wait, Britte was there too. But Runa and Britte had never talked all that much.

Sissel felt a pang of guilt. She didn't like leaving her friend behind. But she… she wanted this. And as Ozan and Jenassa followed Constance out of the room, she felt certain she'd made the right choice.

Nearly certain.

Within the space of an hour, Sissel was seated on a carriage again. Except this time, she was travelling away from Riften, there was no sullen sister seated opposite her, and no yellow-sashed guard beside her. The carriage driver was taking them north and west, towards the Pale – a Hold Sissel had never been to. And her companions were her new adopted family. She hesitated to call them 'parents' since she still didn't know what the relationship between the two of them was… and also because she'd prefer to get to know them a little more before she started thinking of them in that way.

Saying goodbye had indeed been easy. She'd gathered her things. She'd hugged Runa and Constance. Then she'd turned to Britte and given her a long, awkward look before saying, 'Um… goodbye.'

'Bye,' Britte had said quietly, but nothing more.

And so she'd followed Jenassa and Ozan out of the Honourhall and into whatever new life they planned to give her.

Now, just as the guard had done on the journey from Rorikstead, Jenassa was unfolding a map and leaning over to show Sissel their route. 'This is where Ozan and I live. Heljarchen Hall. It's near the border with the Pale and Whiterun.'

'Whiterun? So it must be close to Rorikstead.' Sissel felt a grin spread across her face. 'Could I visit my friends there?'

'Of course,' Jenassa assured her, and Ozan nodded. He still hadn't spoken much, but occasionally a smile had tugged at the corners of his mouth, and one did now.

'So you lived your whole life in Rorikstead until your father died?' Jenassa asked.

'Yeah. My mother died giving birth to me and Britte, and we had to grow up helping out on the farm.'

The Dunmer woman frowned slightly. 'And your father… wasn't well-liked by you. Or your sister?'

'I don't think anyone really liked him.' Sissel shrugged helplessly. 'He… didn't really like anyone else.'

Jenassa nodded slowly. 'I see.'

'He hit us. Sometimes. Well, a lot of the time. And Britte picked on me a bit too. So when I could I went round Jouane's house to learn about magic. He says I'm really good at it.'

'Magic?' Ozan repeated, and Sissel noticed that his expression was somewhat wary.

'Yeah, Jouane says that Nords don't often learn how to do magic, but it's really fun. Do you do any magic? Jouane told me that Dunmer are good at magic – especially fire spells.'

Jenassa laughed quietly. 'I've never been a mage, no. The sword's my weapon. I can wield a bow at a push. But I never learned magic – and I think Ozan prefers it that way.'

The Redguard gave a small nod.

'Why not? Do you not like magic?'

As she so often did, Jenassa spoke for him. 'He doesn't trust magic. A lot of Redguards don't. The theft of souls, the meddling with minds – and the fact that a mage doesn't set much store by martial strength. Redguards don't tend to be fond of those who trust in something other than their own physical abilities.'

'So do a lot of Nords.' Sissel frowned. 'I mean, don't a lot of Nords. I mean, um, most Nords don't like magic much either. And I'm a Nord.'

Jenassa gave a soft snort of amusement, and Sissel grinned, glad that the Dark Elf was becoming a little more open. 'Ozan's had some bad experiences with spellcasters,' she explained.

'What kind of experiences?'

He was silent for a long time. Then he gritted his teeth for a second and said, 'Thalmor.'

Sissel swallowed hard. She remembered once, when she'd been about eight, a party of Thalmor had passed through Rorikstead. She'd been out in the fields at the time, and she hadn't got a chance to get closer and take a good look at them, but she remembered watching them march up to Rorik's house, speak to him for no more than a few seconds, then barge inside. They'd done the same to all the houses in the village. 'They were searching for signs of Talos worship,' Jouane had said, when she asked him about it later. 'Didn't find anything, thank the Divines – however many of them there are. I was worried about Mralki and young Erik – they still follow the old ways. But it looks like they're smart enough not to keep any evidence around their home.'

She was the first to admit that she hadn't really understood then, and she wasn't sure she understood now. But she knew that most people in Skyrim hated the Thalmor, and she knew that they were mostly Altmer, and she knew that Altmer were generally mages. So it made sense that Ozan might hate the Thalmor, and if he hated the Thalmor, it made sense for him to hate mages too.

'Do you not like any people who use magic?' She crossed her fingers as she asked the question – with any luck, he would say that he would make an exception for her.

'Yes,' he replied.

'He means that there are some people who use magic who he does like.' Jenassa shot Sissel a sideways glance. 'If you spend much time around Ozan, you get used to his vague yeses. In fact, his vague nos are probably more complex to work out.'

'So who uses magic who you do like?'

He shrugged. 'Erandur. Serana.'

'Friends of ours,' Jenassa clarified. 'Serana and Ozan worked together during an… incident some years ago. And Erandur is a priest of Mara. A Dunmer like myself, but one who put the effort into learning magic.'

The mention of a priest of Mara gave Sissel the chance to ask the question that had been circling around in her head for some time. 'Are you and Ozan married?'

'No,' Ozan said instantly, then added, 'No vagueness there.'

'We live and work together,' Jenassa said cautiously. 'And have done for some years.'

'But are you actually together?'

Ozan wove his fingers together awkwardly, then nodded.

'When I first met Ozan, I was a mercenary. He hired me to assist him with a difficult task, and we found our fighting styles suited each other. I remained in his service.' Jenassa gave a small smile. 'And over time, we found that we suited each other in other ways, also.'

'So what do you do? Are you adventurers?'

Ozan, at last, answered this question. 'Partly.'

'He has his own work, in Dawnstar. I assist with it.' Jenassa leaned back against her seat. 'And when his… employers… have no need of him, then yes, we are adventurers.'

'And you fight dragons.'

Jenassa looked startled, and Ozan spoke up quickly. 'When we met in Rorikstead, I told her I fight them.'

It was the longest speech Sissel had heard from him yet. Maybe he felt more comfortable about speaking when he wasn't around strangers.

'It's not something we do as a career, exactly. I think the only thing that marks us out as 'people who fight dragons' is that when we encounter one – which happens far more often than is convenient - we spur our horses towards it rather than away from it,' Jenassa said wryly. 'They are a unique challenge to fight, though. And their scales fetch a fine price.'

Sissel felt a smile spread across her face. It was incredible enough that these people had adopted her. To learn that they regularly battled dragons, and won…

'Night soon,' Ozan remarked, glancing up at the sky – Sissel took that to mean, it'll be night soon.

'Yes, and it'll take us more than a full day to reach home, most likely.' The look Jenassa gave Sissel was, for a moment, impossible to read. Then she realised that the best word for it was protective. 'Don't be worried about going to sleep. If anything decides to attack this carriage, we can see to it.'

Sissel smiled. Now that her odd companions mentioned it, she realsied she was tired. As she had on her last carriage journey, pulled a spare shirt from inside her bag, folded it, and laid her head down upon it. 'OK,' she said. 'But a dragon attacks us, wake me up. I want to see the fight.'

The last thing she heard before she drifted into sleep was Ozan's gentle chuckle.

And yet again, the story is turning out to be longer than my plan intended... no surprises there.

I hope you enjoyed getting a little bit of a closer look at Ozan - over the next couple of chapters, he'll become a little easier to know. Thanks for reading!