"Good morning to you too," Erik said as he opened the door to the guards. He sighed and peeked his head around the door frame to see the three corpses, which were surrounded by other guards. "I can explain the bodies—" Erik motioned for M'rissi to come out, and when she did, he motioned to her arm. "I woke up to a scream late last night, ran out and saw the one in banded armor and the one with the chunk out of his throat tying her up. The man with the dog was dead when I came out."
"So you killed them?" the guard asked.
"I confronted them and asked them what they were doing, they threatened me, so, I used the hide shield from the man with the dog and killed the man in the heavy armor, and she broke free and killed the man with the bow," Erik explained as he and M'rissi stepped out of his house.
"They were bandits," M'rissi said. "They chased M'rissi from the mine, and cornered her. She tried to defend herself, she even killed one of them and their dog, but…"
The young woman winced as she lifted her arm—another wave of pain washed over her as she showed the guard the bloodied bandage.
"The man—Erik—he saved M'rissi."
"They're from Embershard?" The guard asked, sighing. "Alright, well—why didn't you come and get us?"
"It was late at night, and I needed to tend to the girl's arm. My main concern was making sure she wasn't going to die," Erik replied.
The guard sighed and shook his head.
"Alright—fair enough. I'll give you a pass, since it seems you were defending your—friend here," the guard spoke as he turned to the bodies. "But—if this happens again, you'll have to answer to the Jarl."
"Thank you, Beinrr," Erik nodded. "If you want me to get rid of the bodies—"
"No, I'll take care of it. Bring the girl to the Sleeping Giant Inn, Delphine can help with her arm—"
"She—has a dislike of potions. She's not going to let Delphine come anywhere near her with anything she made."
"Right—well, in any case, try not to kill anyone else, alright Far-Giver?"
"I will try, Beinrr. I'm sorry for the trouble."
"There's no need to apologize, Erik. This town is boring—you've at least given me something to do," the guard chuckled. "Anyways, be on your way."
As the guard moved away from the home—towards the crowd of guards—Erik and M'rissi made their way into the small town, towards the small inn that was ran by Delphine and Orgnar.
"Erik—it's good to see you. How've you been?" Delphine asked.
"Tired," Erik replied as he sat at one of the tables. "Do you mind if I get some fresh fish for my friend?" he said as M'rissi sat next to him, making sure Delphine didn't see her face.
"Sure thing—is there anything else I can get you? Maybe a potion for her arm—"
"She does not want a potion. M'rissi's arm is fine," the Khajiit spoke up.
"Then let me at least get you a sling to hold your arm so you don't hurt it any more than it is," Delphine replied.
"She's not too fond of magic or alchemy," Erik replied with a shrug.
"Clearly." Delphine nodded and left them alone. When she came back, she had a plate of fresh fish and a linen sling for M'rissi. "So—you must have come through last night. Do you and Erik know each other very well?"
M'rissi seemed to ignore her question, using her good arm to pick apart her food.
"Kind of rude, isn't she?" Delphine asked Erik.
"She's guarded—I'm sure you'll hear about it later, but I found her last night. Bandits chased her into town and tried to capture her."
"Ah, I see. Well—I'll leave you two alone then. M'rissi, enjoy your fish," Delphine said, leaving the two.
"M'rissi does not like strangers," M'rissi whispered.
"You don't seem to mind me," Erik replied, watching as M'rissi bit into her fish and struggled to put her sling on. When Erik moved to help her, M'rissi gave a quiet hiss and glared at him.
"M'rissi can put it on herself," she said, wrapping her arm in the linen and putting the remaining cloth around her neck. "You saved M'rissi, and you wish to help her. You gave her a place to sleep, food—even cleaned her wound. She can see you are not bad. M'rissi does not know her."
"Delphine is someone you can trust."
"M'rissi does not know that. She does not even fully trust you—but she is willing to, because you have shown her she can," M'rissi replied, sighing as she finished off her fish. "The fish was very good…"
"We should probably get to Alvor's so I can finish that armor," Erik replied. "I don't want to stay here much longer if the Thalmor are looking for you."
"She understands," she said, standing with Erik. "She hopes—it will not take long."
"All I have to do is finish the leggings and then I can finish it off with the boots, I've got everything else done, even have a shield." Erik replied as the pair left the inn and crossed the dirt road to Alvor's home.
"Erik—by the gods, boy, you didn't have that scar on your cheek yesterday," Alvor said as he turned Erik's face to get a better look at the healed wound. "And who's the girl? I don't remember seeing her here—I definitely would have remembered such a pretty face."
"Her name is M'rissi—and she—she gave Erik the scratch."
"Yeah, it wasn't on purpose though," Erik assured Alvor. "Look, Alvor, I'm in a bit of trouble here—"
"What kinda trouble, son?" Alvor asked.
"Remember when I said I wanted to get out of Skyrim? Yeah—that want is a need now. Last night—I got into a fight. M'rissi was chased into town by a couple of mercenaries—only I didn't know they were mercenaries. They hurt her pretty bad—and I killed one of them, she killed the other two. Turns out, those men were sent by the Thalmor—"
"Thalmor?" Alvor gasped, his eyes as wide as dinnerplates. "Boy, what in Akatosh's name have you gotten yourself into?"
"I know—I know. Look, us being here—this whole damn town is in danger. I'm not about to put you and Sigrid in danger, so I need that armor done so M'rissi and I can leave town. We're going to cross through Helgen, I was thinking of going to Morrowind—"
"No—no, Erik you can't go that way. If you go through Helgen, you'll tell them exactly where you're going. You need to go around the mountain. I can tell them that you said you were going North, up to Dawnstar when they come—"
"You don't need to do that—"
"Yes I do. I love you like you're my own—and as much as I love the Empire—I'm not blind to what the Thalmor do to those who get in their way."
"Thank you—Alvor. Look—I need something else, I need a cloak for her."
"Alright, you work on your armor, I'll get Sigrid and we'll start on the cloak," Alvor said, moving over to M'rissi. "I'm no tailor, but if you let me take measurements, Sigrid should be able to make something that will hold together."
"She—thanks you. But M'rissi does not want to be touched," the Khajiit replied, shrinking into herself.
"I need to take your measurements—otherwise the cloak is going to be all off."
"M'rissi does not wish to be touched—"
"Girl—I need to take your measurements if you want this cloak to be right." Alvor crossed his arms and sighed.
"She does not trust you," M'rissi growled. "She does not want you to touch her."
Alvor scoffed and shook his head as he took his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Erik—can you talk some sense into her?"
Erik sighed and crossed his arms, turning to M'rissi.
"You want to be able to conceal yourself in public, right? And if we're heading North, we're going to need something to keep us warm while we travel. You don't want to be cold—do you? Those elegant robes of yours look warm—but they don't cover a whole lot."
M'rissi looked away as she thought about the question.
"Fine…" M'rissi sighed. "But what about her arm? It cannot be moved so easily, and it hurts for her to move it."
"You won't have to lift your arms for a cloak," Alvor sighed, slipping into his house and coming out rolled up cloth that had marks precise increments. "I just need a few things, so, if you don't mind me getting a little close—"
"Just do it," M'rissi replied.
Alvor nodded and took the measurements he needed and wrote them down.
"Alright—Erik, you get on that armor," the blacksmith said.
Erik nodded and started on the leatherwork. As he picked the pieces of leather he needed, M'rissi sat next to him and watched as he worked.
"M'rissi wonders, why go so far to help her?"
"Because if we don't stick together—we're both going to die," Erik replied. "With that arm injured, you're not going to be fighting any time soon—and I can barely fight as it is. We wouldn't make it a day on our own. Once that arm gets healed, though, I'm going to teach you how to fight with that bow."
"And then she will protect you—like you protected M'rissi."
Erik paused for a moment and looked up with a smile.
"Yeah, like I protected you. How's your arm, by the way?"
"It hurts—but pain is nothing new to her," M'rissi replied, her eyes fixated on Erik's hands as they crafted the leather boot that would soon have iron plates on them.
"Well—as long as it doesn't get infected. We might have to stop by Whiterun and get more bandages. Those will have to be changed and cleaned soon," Erik said, finishing the first boot. "I know it's probably none of my business, but what kept you up last night?"
"She—" M'rissi paused, sighing. "You know who is hunting for M'rissi. Her mother—the witch—she was not kind."
"Well, if she's working for the Thalmor, I can imagine she wouldn't be, especially towards a Khajiit. Is she why you look the way you do?"
"She—she does not want to talk about that."
"I understand," Erik said, nodding as he started on the second boot. "Would you tell me something else, though? Why would a High Elf—a Thalmor—even adopt a Khajiit in the first place?"
"M'rissi does not know. She never asked. She was too scared," M'rissi replied, shrinking into herself and pulling her knees to her chest.
Erik paused for a moment, putting the leather to the side and moving closer to M'rissi.
"Hey," Erik spoke as he rested a hand on her knee. "You don't have to be scared. You aren't there anymore—and I'm going to make sure you never have to go back."
"They'll kill you."
"They'll do a lot worse if they find me here. I'd rather be dead than strung up on a torture rack. Besides—I don't know if I can complain. I mean, I'm going to spend most of my time with a beautiful girl, with pretty eyes and a pretty smile."
M'rissi looked up, her cheeks red from blush as she smiled.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," she replied, purring and lowering her knees. "But M'rissi thanks you for your kind words."
"You know—I was thinking…" Erik said as he went back to working on the leather for the boot. "If we go to Ivarstead, we should be safe. It's on the edge of Stormcloak territory, but it's a peaceful town, and I don't think the Thalmor will go so far into Stormcloak territory just for two people."
"What about the pass?"
"By the time they realize we aren't going to Dawnstar—they won't have a choice, not unless they want to waste their time going all the way back down to Riverwood. By then—no one's going to know where we are. We could stay there for a while, save up some coin—then head up to Windhelm and take a boat to Morrowind."
"Morrowind is home to other pointed ears—she does not know if she will be comfortable there."
"Morrowind is home to the Dark Elves. The Thalmor have no place there, they hate the Dunmer," Erik replied. "It might take time, but if we can pull it off, the Thalmor will never find us."
"What will we do when we get there?" M'rissi asked. "M'rissi does not want to split up—"
"We won't—I have no interest in traveling Morrowind alone—"
Erik paused as he heard the raised voices of Hadvar and Ralof. The Nord groaned and stood, walking off and finding the two arguing at the lumber mill.
"Do you not realize that the Thalmor are using you? Hadvar, think for a moment, would you? They're just using Skyrim to further their—"
"By the eight divines, will you shut your mouth?" Hadvar exclaimed. "I have no interest in your opinion over the Thalmor, damn it! The Empire has always done right by Skyrim—"
"Did they do right when they started murdering citizens for worshiping Talos?"
"Would you rather still have to deal with the Great War? The White-Gold Concordat was signed to stop the war—"
"Enough, both of you!" Erik called out as he approached. "By the Gods, you two are like children! Always fighting—always bickering! Who cares who is right? Stop with this mess and grow up. There are bigger issues at hand."
"Like the civil war?" Ralof asked.
"Like life, you fool!" Erik replied. "Go back to work. If I have to interrupt my forging to separate you two again—I swear to the gods, I'll make both of you go up to the Barrows and sleep there for a week."
"You wouldn't," Hadvar replied, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh, I would. And I'd make sure the whole damn town keeps you there until you stop fighting!"
The Nords sighed and nodded.
"Fine," Hadvar replied.
Erik shook his head, turning and walking back to the forge and continuing his work.
"M'rissi wonders, what are the barrows?" the Khajiit asked.
"The ruins on the other side of the river—Hadvar was terrified of them as a child, he still somewhat scared of it," Erik replied with a smirk. "To be honest, I just can't stand them fighting. It's been like that for weeks."
"Would you really make them sleep in those ruins?"
"No—but that doesn't mean I won't make them go up there." Erik chuckled and finished the boot and started loading the forge. "This is going to take a while—do you want to help me?"
"What would M'rissi do?"
"You'll just hold the metal with tongs while I hammer it into shape," Erik replied and handed M'rissi the tongs as he used a blast of fire magic to light the forge.
M'rissi froze and dropped the tongs.
"Shit—I'm sorry. I forgot about last night—"
"I—It's okay," the Khajiit replied. "M'rissi just—she does not like magic."
"I know, I know," Erik said, sighing. "I'm just used to using magic. Come on," Erik said, picking up the tongs and grabbing an iron ingot. "Just—be careful. Even if the metal looks cool, don't touch it. Made that mistake once, it wasn't fun."
M'rissi giggled and nodded, taking the tongs and waiting for his direction.