-Chapter 2-

His look had not changed at all. The beard and hair were still gray, and his clothes were still covered with charcoal from the forge, but he was a humble man living for a humble village. And the coin that he was going to help me save tonight was adding to my respect of him.

"Filnjar, my friend. It is good to see you. And, remember my name is Rayner, not Dovahkiin," I said with a smile. "I see that the mine is no longer infested with spiders."

"Yes. Well, much has changed since the last you were here, Rayner," he said motioning his hand in a welcoming way into his house. "Life is better now."

He closed the door behind me, with a small smile on his face. I remembered his passion for the mine and Shor's Stone, which ended him up as the unofficial leader, but a leader no less. Filnjar's house was filled with so much warmth that it made me remember how cold I was from the rain. For the purpose of light travel, I left many of my supplies behind, including most of my rain-friendly cloaks. Not that I would actually come to wear it, but it would have been nice to use it as a means of a blanket.

"Come join me! Mead and boar meat! Who could ask for more?!" Filnjar exclaimed sitting down at his small table covered with food.

"Boar meat, huh? What a specialty," I sat down across from him.

"Usually you get that skeever shit, but my wife is something special."

"Wife? Since when did you have a wife?" Filnjar never had a wife if I remembered correctly. He was the only one in his small cottage. No one else.

"Huh! You probably never saw her. Walks back and forth to Ivarstead every week for trade," he rubbed at his beard in thought. "You really never met her when you were here?"

"No. Not that I recall." I was still in awe that the man had a wife. Not that he wasn't capable of such, there was just no mention of it. "Is she in Ivarstead now then?"

"No no. She's back, but she's in the mine right now, collecting some ore for trade or something."

I ate the food that Filnjar offered me. It felt good to eat something warm and filling for once. Apples are great, but they are not as satisfying as a boar. Filnjar eventually gave me a mug of mead that became a stark contrast to my wet clothes as it flew down my system.

"Thank you," I said, feeling the tiredness of my long journey after a few blessed sips of the drink.

"Welcome," the old blacksmith replied. "What some dry clothes, too?"

I nodded sleepily. My eyes were hard to keep open by now. "Do you have any apples? My horse is outside and most likely yearning for some."

"Horse? Ah, I remember! Roach, right?"

"Close. His name is Riske," my eyes closed, and my long hair was sticking to my forehead.

"Right. I remember the huge beast. But sure! There should be a whole basket downstairs in the cellar. Help yourself to anything down there."

"Thank you again, Filnjar," I said tilting my head down.

I began to stand up and head towards the door to the cellar, until I heard, "My daughter's down there, too. Ask her if you need anything."

Oh, now there's a daughter, too…