No One Leaves Cidhna Mine
A/N: Before you begin: the Dragonborn is NOT Alfred (America). In my Hetalia x Skyrim world, the Dragonborn is his father. Alfred hasn't been born yet. I may or may not write about him. I don't write much anymore. There was more to this monstrosity… but the plot bunnies ran off. I can't find them. If they ever return home, I will tell you what happens to poor Tino after this cliffhanger ending. This is hunter!Finland and Forsworn!Sweden. I don't know how I feel about dual-wielding Sweden. He seems more like a two handed sword kind of guy to me… Idk. Enjoy.
Warnings: Contains blood, swearing, cliffs to be hanging off of (Bad joke, sorry) and spiders. Yaoi feelings if you squint… I guess…
Tino Väinämöinen was a gentle person. For the most part, he had to be. He was a fragile man who was much more capable of healing wounds, not inflicting them. That wasn't to say he couldn't. He could be a fierce fighter when he believed in it. However, fighting against dozens of armed guards was not his best decision he'd ever made. But then, going into Markarth hadn't been his best decision either. He had been tired and beaten up by Forsworn, renegades who took to the wilderness and fought to "liberate" Skyrim and return it to those they believed it belonged to. They were vicious and their magic and weapon wielding was passed down from the old ways. Tino wanted nothing to do with them. He also wanted nothing to do with this blasted war. He was one of the lucky ones. He hadn't been recruited as a soldier because of his "fragile nature" and as a healer because he didn't make that skill widely known. To everyone who saw him, he was just Tino the hunter. Sadly he was also known for his curiosity and sense of justice. Hence his current predicament.
Tino poked his nose where it shouldn't have been and now he had been thrown into prison. Or more specifically, Cidhna Mine beneath Markarth. He'd heard of that mine from the locals and the thought that captured Forsworn may also be in that mine, he'd tried to escape from custody. It was fine, he thought. He'd just run into the wilderness and disappear. People would forget about him if he just stayed away from the area. He had family in other parts of the Reach. He could just find them and all would be well! But it hadn't. He was overpowered and hit over the head. He was beginning to come to as two guards dragged him.
His head hurt as if someone was pounding away at his skull with a Warhammer. His feet were bare, meaning that the rocks in the dusty ground were scraping away at his skin on the tops of his feet. His trousers only reached past his knees, meaning his shins were being given similar treatment. He could tell that his clothes were gone, replaced by prison garb consisting of tattered sleeveless shirt and trousers. It scratched uncomfortably against his skin. Slowly Tino opened his violet eyes, his watery vision showing him a blurred ground. He struggled to keep down his last meal, nausea making his head spin and stomach lurch. Why did they have to hit him on the head? He'd surrendered when they backed him against the wall. They hit him anyway.
Tino didn't have time to dwell on his unpleasant predicament as he was thrown none too gently into a cell. His head smacked painfully on the dirt floor, making him groan. He slowly sat up, taking his time, and leaned against the cot. Everywhere smelled of filth and straw. Gritting his teeth, he reached his hand to the back of his neck and touched the small cut, crusted with dried blood that also matted his fair blond hair. He brought his hand back to his chest and effortlessly called forth his healing spell, a gold light collecting in his palm. He clenched his hand slightly before relaxing it, straightening his fingers and letting loose the magic. The gold ribbons of light surrounded him as he healed his injuries. After only a few moments, he closed his palm, dismissing the magic. He didn't want anyone to see.
Tino sighed heavily, leaning his back against the rocky wall. Any other prison in Skyrim would have been preferable. Cidhna Mine. The name left a horrible taste in his mouth. He wasn't a criminal. He'd never done a thing to warrant the law to come after him. He'd never stolen even a crumb of bread. Never assaulted anyone. Never even looked at a guard wrong. So why did he have to be thrown here of all places? Ah that's right; Markarth was the most corrupt place in the entire Reach. So when he had been framed, they sent him to someplace that needed workers. He knew he hadn't been the only one to be in this situation. He'd heard of many thrown into this prison when there weren't enough prisoners to work the mines, framed as he had been. Tino had been framed for murder. But he'd only wanted to help that man! He, like so many in this city, was suspicious and wanted the truth. He ended up murdered like that Margaret woman and that man in the shrine. Tino shivered. He was in the same prison as murderers and Forsworn. The question was, who was innocent, and who would wring his neck for so much as walking on the wrong speck of dirt?
Tino looked up as someone banged on the bars of his cell door. He swallowed hard. It was an orc as a guard. They were many times stronger than he was when armed. He wasn't armed and she was.
"Get up. It's time for you to get to work." The growl like voice said as the guard unlocked his cell.
Tino stood quickly, keeping his head down. That's right. Keep your head down and don't make any trouble as you're here. Serve your time and hopefully you won't get killed before your time is up. The guard laughed at him. He knew she was seeing him as weak and he was fine with that. He followed the guard as she led him from the cell to the mine. Tino couldn't help but shiver at the cold air around him. Torches didn't give off heat for him to feel better but at least it was lit up in this place. He could see if someone was sneaking up on him. Well, more likely than in the dark. The guard unlocked the barred door that led to the mine. She grabbed his arm roughly and threw him in. Tino landed on his face, as usual. He groaned as the door was locked behind him. He stood up, not bothering to wipe the dirt from his face.
Instead he kept his head down and hurried over to an abandoned pickaxe. He tried to ignore the sneers sent his way, especially the one from the orc. He didn't ask himself why the orc was guarding some passage. It wasn't his business, he told himself. Curiosity got him into this place; curiosity would get him out in a casket. Instead he looked from the pickaxe to the wall, where shiny ore stared back. How was he supposed to do this? He'd never mined in his life! Tino glanced at the other prisoners. Maybe if he mimicked them? Tino turned the pickaxe, placing both hands on the handle. He lifted it and swung it down, wincing as the tip bounced off the ore and sent a shockwave up his arms. Only a small chip of rock flew off the ore. This was going to be harder than he thought. He bit his lip, squaring his shoulders. He wasn't about to give up. Tino Väinämöinen did not give up.
As Tino attempted to learn to mine, he didn't notice hard blue eyes trained on him. They had been watching ever since he had been thrown in, glaring. After a few minutes, the owner decided he could watch no more. Tino didn't feel anyone watching him and hadn't heard anyone approach. So he was very surprised as a shadow fell over him. Eyes wide and a bad feeling brewing in his gut, Tino turned. He nearly shrieked as he found himself being towered over. Instead he let out a small sound of fright. The man was glaring down at him, his face very intimidating. Actually, everything about him was intimidating. The very air around him screamed it. Dirt and grime smeared his skin and his blond hair, which had grown long before being messily cut with a shiv, nearly turning it brown. The meager clothing only served to emphasize his strength; his arms muscled to show his time down in these dark tunnels. He could easily break him in half, Tino thought in panic. He wondered if this man was part orc or something. All he lacked was the dark skin and rough teeth poking out from his lips.
Tino backed up until his back hit the rocky wall. His eyes darted around, trying to find some sort of escape. He began sweating, shivers of fear going through his smaller frame. Thoughts of defending himself with the pickaxe were nonexistent in his fear filled mind. Only escape. When it became clear, Tino looked back at the man. He let out a small cry of fear and redirected his gaze at the man's chest. Oh he was going to die…
"Need help?"
Tino almost couldn't understand what the giant of a man had said. His accent was very thick and his voice very low. But he wasn't sure if this man was mocking him or actually offering assistance.
"You look like you've never done this before. Let me show you." The man said.
Tino moved quickly away, allowing the man access to the wall. Eyes wide, Tino watched as the man brought the pickaxe up only a fraction of what Tino had done, swinging it down with more precision and hitting around the ore with smaller and quicker hits. Then he stepped aside, motioning for Tino to move in. Tino bit his lip and took up the spot he vacated. Still shaking a bit, he tried to mimic what he had been shown. It wasn't nearly as successful but it was better than what he had been doing. The man's hand grabbed his own, halting him. Tino jolted as the large hand easily covered his. Oh sweet Kyne!
"Nej. Like this."
The man began manipulating his hands and soon, Tino relaxed and allowed it. When he gained a rhythm, the man let go, allowing him to continue. Tino almost laughed with joy. He was doing it! The ore, now free from the wall, tumbled to the ground. He turned to the man, smile on his face.
"Thank you!" he said in a hushed tone.
The man nodded.
"Was nothin'. You looked like you needed the help." The man said.
The man walked to a space next to Tino and began to work. Tino quickly returned to work. Every so often he glanced at the man. He wasn't so bad, Tino thought. Just frightening. He imagined the man was very nice deep down. Maybe… maybe he had been framed as well. He wouldn't be too different from Tino. It would be nice to have someone on his side here. The man's large body could protect him even. If he didn't get tired of Tino's company.
"My name is Tino." Tino said.
"Name's Berwald. Nice to meet you." The man grunted in reply.
Tino stopped talking, not wanting to push his luck right away. The sounds of rocks being hit and the occasional grunts of the men around the mine filled the air. Tino worked, ignoring the slowly forming blisters on his hands. Not long after his arms began to burn from the work he wasn't used to. His arms were strong from pulling a bow, not swinging. He wished he had been more versed in the ways of swinging a sword or an axe. That would have helped him immensely. He avoided thinking of home or of his family. He didn't want to get homesick. Finally he spoke to his neighbor.
"Um, can I ask… why are you here? You seem like a nice person." Tino asked timidly in a small voice.
Berwald didn't stop as he worked.
"Murdered someone." He said.
Tino shivered. Well, maybe it was just his charge. Maybe he didn't really do it. Berwald's eyes glanced at Tino.
"Did you… really do it?" Tino asked.
Where you framed?
"Ja. I am a Forsworn. I killed because they were in our way." Berwald said.
Tino nearly dropped his pickaxe. He had said it so emotionless. As if the idea didn't even bother him. As if he wasn't proud of it but it didn't weigh on his conscience. Tino tried to keep his shivering a secret. Oh Mara… he'd attempted to make friends with a murder. A Forsworn at that. Berwald glanced at him again.
"Are you afraid?" he asked.
Tino froze. He really didn't want to answer that. He could feel those blue eyes boring into his form but he couldn't move. He could scarcely breathe. As if the answer wasn't obvious. He was terrified! But what would he say? If he said nothing, the man could take it as an insult. If he did reply and say the wrong thing… there was nothing to stop him from beating him within an inch of his life. He doubted the guards would do anything and the rest of the prisoners would probably watch, cheering and jeering at his weakness. Tino let out a shaky breath.
"Yes."
Tino was beginning to lose track of how many days he'd been there. After a few days he realized he had no way of telling what time it was as he couldn't see the sun. The guards led him in and out of the mines at different intervals than other prisoners, meaning everyone slept at different times so that the mine was continuously working. He wondered just how many prisoners there were. Many, he'd imagine. He was already craving a better bed and filling food. He was given watered down broth with chunks of barely edible meat floating in it and a small chunk of bread every morning. Nothing else. He'd learned to save the bread until dinner or else his growling belly would only keep him awake at night. He only got so many hours to sleep. He needed every minute to keep his strength going.
His hands were bloody at the end of each workday. The pickaxes had many splinters and rough surfaces. He had nothing to pick the splinters out and as he sat in his cell before bed, he'd pick them out with his teeth before healing them the best he could. He'd heal them and wrap them in scraps of cloth to help keep prying eyes off and the splinters from cutting. The blisters became so bad they bled just as much as the splintered cuts. Tino was tired. He wanted to leave this horrible place. He was jeered at and he could see just how much some of the other prisoners wanted to beat him instead of just taunting him. Most of them kept their distance though. Maybe it had to do with Berwald.
Berwald hadn't left him alone since their first meeting. The man stuck close by him and Tino could feel his stare. But he hadn't tried to speak to him since and Tino wasn't keen on making conversation either. The man was frightening and now Tino had an actual reason to keep his interactions to a minimum. At least he felt somewhat safer, at least from the other prisoners. They seemed to be just as intimidated by him as Tino was. It led Tino to wonder. What rank was Berwald? He was so feared, he must have been powerful. The question was, why send him to the mine? If he was a real threat, why not kill him? Nothing really made sense down here, so Tino found himself pushing it to the back of his mind more times than not. The man could just be a common Forsworn and it was just Tino's imagination getting the best of him.
Tino was getting used to being shoved into the mine. Now at least he was expecting it, allowing him only to stumble and regain his balance without actually falling on his face. Tino picked up a pickaxe and walked to a wall, again keeping his distance from the other prisoners. He didn't see Berwald, making him relax only a fraction. He should have felt nervous to not have his normal guard. Tino found himself being roughly shoved aside. He landed on his side, scraping his palms.
"What the hell?" he hissed before looking up at his assailant.
The other prisoner sneered down at him. Daring him to fight back.
"This is my wall, rat. Move now or I'll have to skin you." The man spat venomously.
Tino got up, picking up his pickaxe. He'd move. He turned his back and started walking to another wall. Instead he felt a fist colliding with his head. He fell to the ground only to have a kick knock the wind out of him. He curled up, arm around his bruising ribs.
"What was that! Have something to say? Don't mumble it! Say it to my face!"
Tino shook his head, unable to reply. He hadn't said anything! It only received him a few more kicks with some punches added in. he could tell even without looking up that the prisoner was enjoying this. Probably hadn't gotten into a fight in a while. Now he had fresh meat to bully.
"I didn't say anything!" Tino finally yelled out.
Tino tried to shield his face from the punches. It didn't seem to matter to the man. If anything, his lack of fighting back made him even more enraged. Tino felt his lip split and blood come out of his nose. He prayed to any divine that would listen, not sure if this man would really kill him. He could hear cheering around him as the other prisoners gathered for a show. Tino was hoisted up by his shirt, brought face to face with his assailant. Tino turned his face as the other got close.
"Should I kill ya? I have this lovely shiv… hasn't tasted any blood yet. You're so scrawny, I wonder if you're really a woman under those clothes." The man hissed lowly.
Tino's eyes widened as the point of the makeshift weapon was suddenly very close to his eye. He could see every nick in the roughly fashioned blade, if it could be called that. Flesh that was stabbed with it would be met with more tear than slice. It would hurt, a lot. Then it was gone and Tino tumbled back onto his rear. He looked up and scuttled back as he saw his assailant pinned to the wall, the top edge of a pickaxe against his throat. Berwald stood, face thunderous as he extended his arm to pin the man, every muscle in his arms and bare chest ridged. The look in his eyes was dark, making his eyes even darker as the look danced about. If he looked frightening before, Tino was sure only a daedra would look any more frightening.
"Leave him be!" Berwald bellowed.
Tino stared up at the man, teeth clenched in fear. What had happened to the emotionless, stoic man he'd met before? This was more fitting to the murderer, the Forsworn the man was. A man to truly fear. One that didn't mind in the least to kill, maybe even enjoy it. Yes… Tino could see it. This man wanted to kill that prisoner. But why? Because he attacked Tino? Why was Tino special that it would set this man into a rage? Berwald's eyes swiveled from his victim to the rest of the prisoners, his turned body allowing him to do so with little effort. His eyes challenged them. No one took up the challenge. Some scurried back to their work. Others just laughed, as if he had said a joke, as they turned back to their own walls. Berwald looked back at his prey, neck cracking as he did so. He shoved the pickaxe a little, making the man choke, before he released him. The man slid to the floor, choking as he rubbed his bruised neck. Tino stared in shock, not daring to look up at the man who was advancing toward him.
Tino was yanked to his feet, the large hand tight around his upper arm.
"Get up." Berwald hissed.
Tino obeyed and he was pulled off to another wall, tripping over his feet. Finally he was released and Tino scurried away from the man. He stared, eyes wide. He hadn't realized it but a tear had rolled down his cheek before, leaving a track through the dirt. Berwald's eyes were back to that emotionless glare. He took a step toward Tino, making him take a few hurried steps back. Tino picked up a pickaxe and pointed it at the other man, as if holding a sword. Tino's head was bowed, teeth bared in his fear as he attempted to glare back at the man. Berwald stopped. Tino knew he couldn't defend himself against this man but he'd be damned if he'd let himself get beaten again. Why did this man save him? To claim him as his own prey? To beat him senseless at his own leisure? Tino didn't know and that scared him even more.
"They won't bother you again. You know I won't hurt you either." Berwald said slowly.
Tino shook.
"I don't know that. You are a murderer. You kill. I can't trust you, just like I can't trust anyone here." Tino said.
Berwald sighed and turned away.
"You're just a child. But… at least you know better." He said.
Tino lowered his pick. He watched as Berwald began mining. His mind whirled, not letting him stay on one thought long.
"You can trust me but don't trust the others. I have no reason to kill you. They will kill you for pleasure." Berwald muttered.
"A-And you won't?" Tino said, suspicious.
Berwald didn't answer. He kept working. Tino's grip on his pickaxe tightened. He began taking out his frustration and fear on the wall. He didn't care if he was hitting rock or ore. All that mattered was hitting something.
"Why did you save me anyway?" Tino hissed.
The man said nothing. Tino bit his lip and worked. He couldn't understand this man and didn't want to. He just wanted to leave this horrible place. But it was becoming clear that he would never leave. Some of these men had been here so long. The only way out was to run. But he knew better. No one escapes from Cidhna Mine.
The next day Berwald didn't keep his distance as he usually did. He was close to Tino, eyes watching the whole mine. His body language made Tino nervous. What was he expecting to happen. Finally, after hours of work, Berwald leaned toward Tino.
"We're gettin' out soon. Stay close to me and nothin' will happen to you." Berwald said.
Tino's eyes widened. He sputtered.
"How do you know?" he asked in a whisper.
Berwald's eyes motioned to another prisoner. Tino looked and was astonished to see the blond haired prisoner not only near the orc, but talking to him. Was he insane? Why wasn't the orc killing him for getting too close?
"He's the Dragonborn." Berwald supplied.
Tino's eyes widened and he gaped at the man Berwald pointed out. That was the Dragonborn? The man he'd heard so many rumors about? The man whose shout could cause a grown orc to be thrown and a dragon to stumble! The man whose shout could very well kill. The man who had been summoned to High Hrothgar by the Grey Beards and learn more about his skill. The man that could kill a dragon and absorb its soul. What was he doing here?!
"He was put in here for askin' questions. Like you." Berwald continued.
"H-How did you know?" Tino asked.
Berwald's mouth twitched. Tino realized the man had given a small smile. It was surprising.
"You aren't a murderer." Berwald said simply.
Tino was silent. It was a while before Berwald spoke again.
"He's talking to Madanach." He said.
Tino didn't look up from his work. He knew who that was. It sent an unpleasant shiver through him. The leader of the Forsworn rebellion. The King of Rags. Why would the Dragonborn speak with him? Of all people.
"He will be told to kill someone. When he does, do not go to help that man. Let him die." Berwald warned.
Tino looked up at Berwald, shocked. Berwald's gaze was stern. Why did he expect him to just sit idly by while someone is murdered! Tino grit his teeth and looked away. Berwald let out a sigh. Tino could tell this man was not used to so much conversation. He couldn't say that was surprising. He seemed like a man of little words and someone not many would willingly converse with because of his intimidation.
"That man is a spy and a traitor. We will let him die and in return we will leave."
Tino brought his pickaxe down with a loud clang.
"How do you know? It's impossible to escape from this mine!" Tino hissed.
Berwald put a hand on Tino's shoulder, halting his motions. Tino froze, wincing at the man's touch. He looked at him, a sharp look in his eye. It had no effect whatsoever on the Forsworn.
"Do you think that so many Forsworn would allow themselves capture to only work in a mine?"
Tino gaped. Then he closed his jaw with a click. No, no they wouldn't. So they had some sort of escape. Then it clicked. He should have known. These men weren't just mining. They were digging. He wondered where they had a secret passage hidden from the guards. None of them ventured into the mine very far. Just far enough to retrieve them when their shift was over. Tino relaxed his shoulders.
"You are going to escape through a tunnel… why take me along?" Tino asked.
Berwald's eyes flickered to another part of the mine. Tino kept his eyes on the man, ignoring the commotion. Ignoring the murder. He wondered if the Dragonborn had murdered before. Was he as righteous as the stories told? Or did he deserve to be in prison as the man before him did. Finally Berwald turned his attention on Tino fully.
"You don't belong here." He said.
Tino's eyes lowered.
"Neither do most of these men. They have lost their freedom and some have lost family." Berwald said.
Tino looked back up at Berwald.
"You can't expect me to believe you when you say you… and the other Forsworn are the victims. Markarth is corrupt but so are you. You all kill innocent people for what? Because you believe this land is really yours and you're just taking it back?! Land is conquered, Berwald. Injustice happens when it sees new lords." Tino argued.
Tino didn't back down at Berwald's unrelenting glare. Instead, he stood up taller. He was challenging that glare.
"Killin' because they refuse to stop livin' as their ancestors did… is that any better?" Berwald said calmly.
Tino faltered. Yes, that was just as terrible. So both sides did have crimes. But it didn't excuse him. There were other ways of dealing with this, Tino was sure of it. He didn't care if Berwald did think of him as a child. An eye for an eye didn't work anymore. Killing led to more killing and it was something Tino wanted no part in.
"Come. It's almost time." Berwald said.
Tino followed. Well, what could he say? He was in here for a long time, wrongfully so. If they ever did let him out, he'd be far too old and what was to stop them from just keeping him there? He'd follow this Berwald and his Forsworn. But he wouldn't stick around after. He had a feeling all hell would soon break loose for the city above. Tino watched as Madanach emerged from the tunnel that the orc had been guarding. With him was the Dragonborn. Tino barely listened to what the man said. His eyes were on the Dragonborn. The man was tall, blond hair and blue eyes, and he stood behind Madanach with his arms crossed. Tino could see the dislike in his eyes. Did it make him sickened as he worked with the Forsworn?
Tino saw the prisoners begin to run into the tunnel, toward the escape route Madanach had spoken of. Berwald held him back a moment, a hand on his shoulder. A shiv was thrust into his hands. Tino couldn't ask as Berwald suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him after the running men. Tino wasn't about to wait around to see what the guards thought about their escaping prisoners. Tino ran with him. He ignored the other prisoners and ignored the bones in the cell the escape tunnel was dug into. He just ran. Soon he found himself staring at the door leading into the ruins. He glanced at the back of Berwald's head as the other charged fearlessly in. He gave a shaky laugh, holding his hand up and willing his magic into it. He may not know many destruction spells, but at least he had someone who would maybe look out for him. Or leave him behind….
"Come on." Berwald urged, pausing.
Tino grimaced and ran after him. It was just a ruin. What harm ever came from a ruin? Lots, if he remembered correctly. Dwermer ruins often still had running mechanical creatures and sometimes other inhabitants that moved in as the Dwermer disappeared. Don't be so dark, Tino told himself. But his fears were confirmed as he heard the sounds of a fight. Tino's eyes widened as his foot stepped on web. Frostbite spiders. Tino hated those. It was one reason he would never, ever, under any normal circumstances go into a cave or venture too far into the cold woods, during the times they were more active. Tino nearly shrieked as he saw the dead thing's body. He tried not to look at it as he stuck closer to Berwald. He was so close; he could almost touch the man's bare back.
Suddenly Tino felt himself get shoved hard by Berwald, forcing him to fall back. Tino fell back onto the floor, his back hitting the carcass of the dead spider. He shrieked and scrambled back from it. He turned his eyes on Berwald, who grunted in pain. He was fighting off a Frostbite spider with a shiv! Tino couldn't believe it. Tino grimaced as the thing bit into the man's shoulder before Berwald stabbed his shiv into its head with a bellow.
Berwald didn't seem to pay his injury any mind. He just pulled his shiv out of the spider and turned toward Tino. Tino shivered at the dark look on the man's face. He made a note to run as far and as fast away from this man as soon as they were out.
"Come on!" He shouted.
"But your arm! You could be poisoned-"
Tino found himself being dragged again, his arm in Berwald's painful grip. He kept up this grip until they had caught up with the other prisoners. Tino ground his teeth, keeping up. He tried to keep a look out, trying to keep himself from being surprised. But once again, he was shoved out of the way as another threat came their way. Again and again. Tino was beginning to really wonder. Why was Berwald spending so much time and effort to keep him from harm? He would be excellent bait for a distraction. So why hadn't he been thrown to the enemy while Berwald kept his distance or ran ahead? Why protect someone so fragile…
"Spheres!" the Dragonborn yelled out in warning.
Tino's eyes widened as he saw the rolling mechanical creatures. He'd never seen anything like that. They let out steam as they unrolled themselves, rolling on a mechanism that allowed them to move so quickly and without tripping. They glinted orange gold… Tino barely leapt out of the way as a bolt was fired at him from a crossbow. They were still functioning even after all this time, still hell bent on destroying any who trespassed. Tino kept dodging when the Dwarvan Sphere came too close. It seemed distracted by the others and there were only two. Tino's eyes remained wide as he watched the shivs do minimal damage. Even magic seemed to bounce off. But somehow, it was brought down, allowing them to continue.
Tino paused only a moment to stare down at the broken metal remains. Shaking his head he ran to catch up with Berwald, who was waiting for him. He didn't have much warning. Just the sound of mechanical parts and Berwald's face breaking from its dark look. Tino found himself being pushed to the side again. He cried out in alarm as the bolt pierced through the Forsworn's shoulder. If he hadn't been moved… that would have been the back of his head. Berwald went after the Sphere like a charging sabre cat. But his movements were slowed. Very slowed. Tino watched as Berwald dispatched the Sphere, gaining more injury than he should have. Tino tried to help. He willed some sort of destruction magic into his hands but it wasn't working. He'd never done one successfully in his life. He was a healer, not a fighter.
Berwald finally "killed" the sphere, making it fall apart as it lost the ability to fight. Berwald breathed heavily before grabbing his shoulder. He took a moment, trying to will through his injuries. Tino bit his lip and grabbed his uninjured arm, slinging it around his shoulders.
"Come on!" he urged.
Tino found himself supporting the man more and more as they found more stairs. He could hear the others close by. They needed to keep moving. But he could tell poison when he saw it. Finally, Tino made a sound of annoyance. Annoyance because he knew what he was going to do would come back to bite him. He leaned Berwald against the wall. Unfortunately the man slid down it, sitting down on the floor. He lifted his head to say something but Tino shook his head. Tino held his hands up. He let that familiar feeling of his healing magic collect in his palms before holding out his right hand toward Berwald. The gold ribbons of light surrounded him as Tino healed him. Tino concentrated, pouring as much energy into the healing as he could. When it was done, Tino lowered his hands, putting out the light in his palms. Berwald stared at him, surprised look. Tino turned his head away.
"Don't. Let's catch up with the others. I want to get out of here." Tino said before the man could say anything.
Berwald grunted and stood. He grabbed Tino's wrist and they ran. They didn't encounter any more enemies and it wasn't long before they reached the door leading into Markarth. The other prisoners had gone but one Forsworn woman waited for them. She recognized Berwald as he ran up with Tino. Berwald released the younger man's wrist.
"Brother, I was getting worried. The others have already gone but I have your equipment." Kaie said, handing Berwald what appeared to be fur armor.
Berwald quickly put them on. Tino took a step back as he saw the man don the Forsworn armor. Fur with what looked like horker tusks, animal bones and human skull adorned it, antlers on the helmet. He was even more terrifying than before. He hoped that his kindness toward the other wouldn't be viewed as weakness. He hoped he wouldn't bother with Tino as a reward.
"Hurry. Our king will want his Warlord back." Kaie said as she handed Berwald two Forsworn swords.
Tino took another step back, look of horror crossing his face. He wanted to run but the only way out was blocked by a Forsworn and a Forsworn warlord. The second most dangerous Forsworn there was before a Briarheart. Berwald had tossed away the shiv in favor of his weapons. He rolled his shoulders, hands already used to the weight of his weapons. Then he turned to Tino. Tino had hoped the man had forgotten about him. Tino had already forgotten about his shiv. He'd dropped it in his shock. He watched as Berwald advanced toward him, making him take a step back. However, before he could turn and make a run for it, the warlord raised his sword, tucking the other into his belt. Tino felt a blunt side of the sword strike his temple, introducing him to darkness. His body was picked up and slung over the Warlord's shoulder. Then without a word, the warlord left the ruins of the Dwermer city and entered the chaos that had taken over Markarth.
Berwald took his time leaving the city. He made his way to the main gate, slaying any that dared try to stop him. He left the other guards, letting them live and see his captive. The Forsworn were chanting, reminding the city that they would have their revenge. By now the Dragonborn would have escaped, Berwald mused. He would have been relieved of blame as the Forsworn took it. The trade for helping Madanach. As the guards saw Berwald leave with Tino over his shoulder, his captive, he too would be given pardon. If not… well, who would keep a bounty on a dead man? Berwald had no intention of killing the child of a man. Not yet anyway. But he had to do some things first. Berwald easily stole a horse from the stables. He slung Tino's limp body over its back before climbing on himself.