Author's Note:

Dear all,

ever wonder what happens to some of the smaller characters as years went by? Some of them had it rough. They lost a lot of people and their youth left a lot to be desired. Will they be doing better years from now?

I hope you'll enjoy this short side story. It's definitely canon and it involves three characters we got to meet down south. They came from a messy situation and now you get to see how they turned up over the years (whole ten years after we've seen them last).

Enjoy the read :3

For this chapter, I want to thank Vivifriend for an intriguing idea that gave spark to a lot of events and connections down the line. They are always helping inspire me, sometimes even unwittingly with interesting questions when I share preliminary teasers :D Thank you, Vivi!

Fight Strong, Fight Smart

Part I – To Skin a Rat

What day was it?

He couldn't tell anymore. He'd been here for so long.

The only thing he could hear was the slow sloshing and dripping of water. The only thing he could see were the filthy mossy stones lining the walls. And the grate. So high up above him. It was closed by now. Stupid fucking shitty thing. It should be closed all the time. It was not like anyone could get up there from here anyway and the other way around, it was just bound to have people fall down it.

That's how he fell in after all.

That fucker was chasing him and he ran through the gardens. Asshole, dipshit. Who did he think he was, chasing him like this? He didn't do nothing!

He was just looking. That guy's purse was so big and he was just looking at it. He wasn't stealing it. The guy didn't know. And he chased him. He didn't even call the guards. Maybe that was something to be grateful for? But that lumbering hulk decided to chase him instead. He was probably gonna beat him senseless.

Was he one of the gladiators? Gladiators didn't walk around the Arena with their coin purses on display, did they? Well… it depended on what one called a 'coin purse'.

Rat snickered to himself. Hehe. 'Coin purses on display'. Those gladiators wore such ridiculous outfits. He wanted to see one of the fights. He wanted to see if they wore anything beneath those skirts with colorful leather straps on them. Maybe they really did have their coin purses on display. Maybe that was what people were paying the entrance fees for.

That guy though, he might have looked like a gladiator, but he was probably not one. No one walked around with that kind of money without the intent of spending it soon. Or making more in the Arena.

Maybe those were his winnings already. Or did the fights not start yet today? Rat didn't come to the Arena District too often.

Did it even matter?

That asshole chased him out of the gates and he didn't even tell the guards anything. The legionnaires just ignored them as they ran past them. And then Rat ran through the Arboretum, hoping he would lose the guy in the foliage.

He kind of did when he fell through the grate.

His leg hurt like the fucking Void. So did his arm. He couldn't move. He was stuck here, down in the sewers. And eventually, he woke up one day and the grate was closed.

Some people might try to think of the positives. Some might think that it's better than being in jail. Some might think that it was better than being all alone here. Some might think it was a good thing that there was food and water at his disposal, as well as the heat of the nearby flames.

He didn't. The actual rats roasting on the fire had it better.

He wasn't a stranger to eating a rat. He wasn't a stranger to hiding out in the sewers.

This situation though… that was new. And he really didn't fucking care for it at all.

He should have never gone to the City. Stupid fucking kid. If he could turn back time, he would go visit his ten-year old self in Anvil and kick that little bitch's ass like nobody's business.

He shot a woman, then he met a man – one of the 'bigguns', as his former friend used to call them. He got money from the man and he was told one thing: 'Don't go following them.' The words still rang in his head.

Then Rat took the money and he never saw that man again.

He should have listened.

The money was supposed to be for him – to get up on his own feet. The man gave him a chance and what did Rat do? He followed them. He followed Chomp. He wanted to see her so badly he didn't think about anything else. Stupid fucking kid. He didn't buy a really good meal, he didn't buy a proper weapon, he didn't buy even one night of a roof over his head. He bought a carriage to the City. It cost him almost all of it. He only got enough left for some bread and water.

And that was that. He was here. He lived in the glorious Imperial City.

For ten fucking years now.

How many of them had he actually lived here?

He slept near the beggars in the Waterfront for a year. He didn't even have his own bedroll and none of them took pity on him to lend him their own. Not even for a night.

There was no sign of Chomp and her clan.

Then he was dragged into an orphanage forcibly by one of the 'concerned nobles'. The one time Rat tried to make his own money, he got caught by that fucking bitch and, after some questioning, she dragged him to that place in the Temple District.

Worst years of his life. No question.

Every fucker in that District kept walking around like they had charity and kindness shining out of their asses. Apparently, it blinded them to the building in the middle of it. The constant beatings, the locked rooms with no food or water for days, the innovative 'punishments'… did nobody really see what was going on in that orphanage?

Maybe they just didn't give a fuck.

Rat still couldn't believe he escaped that place. It reminded him of the tales Chomp used to tell him about the clan. No escape. No hope. But he still managed. Maybe she would manage to escape those fucking bigguns one day too.

He was just content that he managed to get out.

And just to end up where?

He was a real shitty pickpocket. He knew that, but what else was there to do? He had no skills, no idea how to take care of himself, to provide for himself.

So of course a useless fuck like him would end up in prison.

He didn't think any place could be worse than the orphanage. Fine, it wasn't worse, but the Imperial Prison was a fucking shitty place to be. He was there only for a while, but then he tried to steal again and got shoved back in. And again. Until he spent more years there.

What else was he supposed to do? He needed money. But he always got caught.

He tried to find another way after his two-year stint. The prison was a fucked up place. He really hated remembering it, just like he hated remembering the orphanage. He was small and weak – everyone's whipping boy, no matter where he went. And he was fucking sick of it.

He tried. He tried to ask for work, but everyone chased him off. A 'filthy rat'. What else was he? Dressed in nothing but rags and the marks on his face would always make him look like he was filthy, no matter how 'clean' the rest of him was. He wasn't exactly 'clean' often though. How could he be, when he was crawling through the bushes and sleeping in the mud?

So he did what he always did. He did the only thing he could do. He stole. And as always, it worked for a time. A very limited time.

And now he was here. In the sewer. He fell and he thought he would starve here since he couldn't move. But first, after a while, when he thought the lummox had surely left, he yelled. He yelled loud enough so that someone up there on the streets above would hear him. He wasn't sure if anyone would help a filthy rat out of the sewer, but he had to try.

But he called someone else with his cries.

What the fuck was up with this creepy bitch?

Her clothes were fucking covered in algae! She was living in the sewers. And she came to see the commotion, of course. She promptly assessed Rat's state – the fact that his arm and leg were probably broken, and then she decided he was going to be her perfect fucking 'flatmate'.

She stuffed cloth in his mouth to stop him from screaming and then it started. She built a fire, she roasted rats, she sometimes removed the cloth and hand-fed him or gave him some sewer water to drink. It tasted worse than anything he had ever tasted. The water, of course – the rats were a reprieve.

It's been so long. She kept blabbering and treating him like a child. Or a pet. He wasn't sure. She kept touching him, stroking his shoulder or, most of all, touching his fucking arm or leg! They were broken and it hurt like the fucking Void!

She didn't care. She kept touching him, stroking his messy hair or squeezing his arm, and he kept flinching. Luckily that was all she did so far, but he really worried about her intentions.

Or maybe it was just this. Maybe she would keep him here alive like this until he lost his mind and actually became only her pet, incapable of thought.

He had to get out of here. But how?

Why was he so useless? Why couldn't he get himself out of anything? He never learned anything useful, he never had an edge.

This was fucking bad.

But… maybe he really should be grateful. He wasn't dying here at least. Maybe this bitch would let him talk one day. Maybe he could plead with her to take him back up. To get him a healer.

Was he crazy already? Thinking he could rationalize with this weirdo living in the sewers…

"My sweetest treat," the woman gave him a toothy grin. At least he thought it was toothy. It was dark, save for the light of the torch behind his back, and her teeth were very dark with rot. Sometimes it was hard to tell if they were there at all. "It's meal time."

A sense of relief and dread both filled him. Meal time meant meat and he wanted the meat. But it also meant water.

She approached him with an old wooden bowl in her hands. It was disgusting and moldered. And Rat was used to living in squalor his whole life, but this was too much even for him.

She yanked out the cloth from his mouth next and he tried to speak right away.

"Wait, please, just…" he didn't get to finish. She instantly pressed the bowl to his lips and began pouring the horrid water into his mouth. He was lying sideways on the ground so a lot of it spilled. But the stream that got into his mouth instantly made him gag. He had no idea how long it would take for him to get used to this. Maybe he never would.

All he managed was to gag and heave when she took the bowl away. And a moment later, she was back with a piece of meat in her hand.

Finally!

This time he didn't even try to speak. He just wanted the rat taste to dissolve the taste of the water. He practically ripped the meat from her fingers and began chewing instantly. And in the meantime, her hand moved to his messy hair, mussing up the strands only held back from covering his whole face by his old leather headband.

He kept chewing and she continued to stroke his hair, then moving to the large dark mark on his cheek. It seemed like she wanted to rub it off, the way her fingers were pressing against it, but he tried hard to ignore it. He closed his eyes, continued to chew, and hoped that if he fell asleep soon enough, she wouldn't bother with the gag anymore.

Maybe he could actually talk to her then. Maybe he could trick her somehow.

He wasn't good with words and he wasn't charming. He didn't know how to do any of this.

But he had to try.

…

A searing pain woke him up, followed by a shrill shriek.

Was that his voice? Was he even capable of letting out a sound like that?

What was happening? The pain in his arm was excruciating. It burned so much. He could feel nothing else.

He didn't even think he had it in him to open his eyes, but he did. They snapped open almost on their own in the shock. And there he saw her.

Only now he realized that there was a weight on him. She was straddling his thighs, as weird and painfully uncomfortable as it was when he was on his side like this. She had a knife in her hand and something else, something small, in the other. He couldn't actually tell what it was.

And then he saw his arm.

His… his skin. A chunk of it was missing!

Was that what she was holding? His fucking skin?!

Rat couldn't help it. Another high-pitched shriek left his lips and it never stopped. He was right – she didn't gag him, but he kind of wished he got the old dynamic back. It was better than this.

"Shh, shh, my sweet," the woman hissed at him almost soothingly. "We have a lot more to peel. You need to stay calm."

What?

… What?!

Was he dreaming? Was this real? Was an actual sewer madwoman planning to peel his skin off?!

Forget the orphanage, forget the prison. This was the worst place he had ever been trapped in.

"It's alright, my sweet, let Stoka take care of you. The mistress will reward us all."

What? What 'mistress'? What did that mean? And… was that her name? Stoka? That didn't sound Imperial at all. How did this freak even get here?

"You'll be just as beautiful as me soon," she purred. "We'll please the mistress together."

What the fuck?! What the fuck?!

What was happening? Why was this happening? She closed in again, pressing the knife to the skin right next to the peeled off part. He thrashed in her grip. He tried to move, but his body felt so stiff. And every motion sent searing pain through him – from his broken arm which was currently missing a chunk of skin, from his broken leg, and from all over his body in milder form.

How could he ever get out of here?

And how could anyone be 'beautiful' with their skin peeled off?!

"Beautiful. We'll both be beautiful. Not like those above see it. They would shun and scorn. But beauty is beneath the surface," she sighed reverently.

What? That didn't mean literally beneath the surface!

Fucking crazy bitch!

He felt the knife go in slightly and he suppressed another loud shriek. How could he stop her?! She was insane! If she really thought these crazy things, how come she never peeled off her own fucking skin?!

Uhm… he had an idea. It was pointless. But… maybe…

"You… you are beautiful," his teeth gritted as tears built in his eyes from the pain. "Anyone up there… would think so…"

The knife stopped, midway through his arm and Stoka's eyes widened at him in shock.

To be fair, she… was kind of beautiful. Her features were. But her eyes were oddly glazed and her hair was stringy, wet and slick with various odd mucks. Her skin looked smooth, but for a few small boils on it, and there were greenish and brown marks on it. It was almost like his – except hers were actual filth from the sewer.

But if she actually washed herself in real water, she would be beautiful.

"Take that back! You are lying! Liar!" She suddenly yelled in a very shrill voice. She began to touch her face instantly, all over, seeking out the boils and the grime with a trembling touch, as if it would reassure her. "I am only beautiful in your eyes, mistress. I am shunned, I am hideous."

"No… don't say that about yourself," Rat doubled down, fighting through the pain. "You are… so gorgeous…" He could barely take it, but the panic was plainly visible on her face. It was working! "Your skin is… so pretty."

"NO! It's not! It's not! No, mistress, don't forsake me! I will be beautiful only for you!" She yelled hysterically.

Holy shit. What a maniac.

"She yanked the knife away from his arm, eliciting another shriek of pain from him. But then, she suddenly moved the knife to her face.

Yes!

This was his chance. Rat was still on his side and the arm he had free and not flattened by his weight was the broken and hurt one. But he used his hale arm to prop himself up. He did that as fast as he could, throwing himself into a half-sit, twisting his legs below her. She looked very shocked for a moment, but then he was right below her, sitting there with her still on his thighs.

This time though, his hale arm was free. And he instantly grabbed her own hand and pushed.

The blade went through. There was no peeling, no delicate work. There was only a blade going right through her eye.

He stared at the scene without any idea how long it's been, how much blood got out. She barely made a sound throughout, even though it looked like a slow and painful death. Maybe his mind was just… hazy.

She was… dead.

Dead.

He never killed anyone. He could barely shoot animals. And one time he shot that girl with the guy who gave him money, but he didn't kill her, even though he meant to.

This was just like killing an animal though, right? She was insane, she wanted to skin him alive. He had no idea who this 'mistress' was, but she was clearly obsessed with her.

That mistress wasn't anywhere near here, right?

Fuck. Fuck. What now? He still couldn't walk. And he killed a person.

Not a person. Not a person. Not a person.

Maybe… maybe he could crawl. Maybe he could find a stick or something. If he had tried that in the first place, he might have avoided this horror – if only he had tried to take care of himself before calling helplessly for help.

He was so fucking useless.

But he wouldn't give up. No. Not after what he survived. No fucking way.

He would make it out.

…

Every inch of his body was shaking.

He was walking, but barely. He found some metal rod in the sewer and he eventually had to beat a rat to death with it. But he was walking.

And not just that.

He was walking out in the open.

One hand, one leg, one sturdy rod and he actually managed to climb up a letter and push onto the grate with his hand. Everything hurt. He still had the rod though and he was able to walk. It was broad daylight and he was back in the Arena District, but he managed to stay in the side alleys for now.

Where was he going? Would they help him in the Temple of One? He had no money. He had nothing. He was at the brink of death. Half of his body was incapacitated and he was bleeding from the peeled off skin. Parts of it were just black now though, dried blood and filth. He was entirely filthy and tired and he had no idea how long he could last.

But he was walking. He was anxious about stepping out in the open, but the temple was his best bet and he needed to do it. People would see him like this, but… maybe not. Nobody looked at wretches like him.

"Look at that fucking rat!"

A voice startled him after a few moments of walking slowly out in the open. Were they… talking about him? Alright… maybe his destitute state was too much to ignore.

Leave me alone. Please, for fuck's sake, leave me alone.

It was no use. He heard people approach soon.

"Hey, rat! Go back to the fucking sewer before we throw you in," a man snarled at him and Rat found himself surrounded by three of them in total – a man and two women, all looking very menacing and muscular. Were they gladiators? Why wouldn't they leave him be?

"Leave me… I just need to…"

"Don't squeak, little rat!" One of the women interrupted him. "Do you need that mug fixed?"

No. Please. No more. I can't take this.

He just wanted to collapse onto the ground. Maybe he should. They would beat him up soon anyway, just for existing and being… a filthy rat. He might pass out sooner if he just surrendered to it right now.

"Citizens!" A voice suddenly tore through the air, booming, threatening, though oddly smooth. Tears were gathering in Rat's eyes again and he had trouble concentrating on anything, but the people around him turned to the voice in an instant.

There was a moment of hesitation.

A man. An Altm-… no. A… what was he? He was tall, but his eyes were bright blue with no hint of yellow in them. His hair was golden, shimmering in the sun, and his skin was… a little tinged to the usual Altmer colors. But his sclera were white… at least Rat was pretty sure. His sight was hazy. He must have been seeing things, but… the man's features just… didn't seem elven.

But then there were the black robes with golden embroidery and edges on them.

A Thalmor.

Wait… was it? Those didn't look exactly like Thalmor robes. And the man looked so young. He looked no older than Rat was.

"Listen, kid, we're…" one of the women harassing him gave the strange elf a wary look, but he interrupted her instantly.

"Excuse me?! What did you call me?!" The golden man hissed in fury.

He wasn't as young as he looked then? Why did he look so… strange? And there was something about those eyes of his.

"Disperse!" He commanded and then his gaze turned to Rat.

Rat's breath hitched in his throat. The strange features made the man look so… beautiful. It was almost hard to look at after his days in the disgusting sewer. His cheekbones were chiseled and his hair was flowy and immaculate. Those deep blue eyes bore into Rat in an oddly familiar way.

"You! Rat," the elf snarled.

You too?

Rat felt disappointed for some reason. It was as if this man had arrived to be his savior. But he was just like the rest of them. Besides, he was a Thalmor, wasn't he? Rat shouldn't have gotten his hopes up in the first place.

"You are under arrest," the golden man continued.

Great. Back in there. Or will they just execute me this time? I didn't even do nothing.

"I said disperse!" The man yelled and finally, the assailants began to walk away. They looked so confused and uncertain, but the man's assertiveness was… convincing. And then he addressed Rat once more.

"I doubt you'll run away, so I guess there's no need for cuffs," he smirked. "Go, go join the other prisoner, Rat."

Wait, what?

The man gestured to a figure standing nearby. In all the commotion, Rat never saw her. He could barely tear his eyes from the golden man's wide grin before his eyes rested on her. Black hair, softly greenish skin and a lower lip jutting out a bit, but she was a Nord at a first glance, though a slightly odd one. Her dark hair was cut down to her shoulders and decorated with a few silver rings in some braids. She had a scar on her face, right near her lips. And her eyes.

The same as the man's.

Rat could hardly believe it. The man didn't call him a 'rat'. He knew his name.

"Chomp," the name came out in an exhausted and surreal whisper. Then Rat looked up to the tall figure in front of him. He was right. Only a year older than him, if he remembered correctly. He looked imposing and regal – something Rat never thought to see in any of them. But there was that smirk.

That smirk that told him this was all just a ruse. That smirk that marked the schemes and getaway plans of the cunning Thrice-Banished.

"Talos?" Rat's voice trembled. He was ready to collapse, but the hope building in him was keeping him up.

Hope and… anger. Resentment.

They were here now? Now?

After what they'd abandon him to?

"Rat, you unlucky bastard," Chomp let out a sigh as she walked over to Talos and him. Only now Rat noticed that her arms were bound behind her back. What?

"You're lucky she recognized you, you dumb fuck. What are you doing out here, making yourself into an easy target," Talos scowled at him and he poked into the dark mark on Rat's cheek – clearly that thing which helped Chomp recognize him in the first place.

What would happen now? Would they take him back in, back to the clan?

Would he believe them this time if they said they'd take care of him?

He didn't have the strength to accuse them. Not now. He just wanted to collapse.

"Guess we're stopping at a healer," Talos pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Come on, prisoners. We need to keep moving." He shoved Chomp roughly, making her stumble back a bit. She didn't look like she minded at all though. All part of the ruse?

Rat wasn't sure he could walk.

But for once, he had a faint hope in him.

Faint hope that he might not actually be left to rot there if he fell.

…

This place was strange.

It was some small house in the Market District. Fortunately it was close. He wouldn't have made it otherwise, not with this ruse and Talos's treatment of him. He knew that Talos was holding back, but he was clearly intent on continuing the ruse and playing the Thalmor part. He kept yelling at him and Chomp and often shoving them. Well, he was shoving Chomp. He mostly pushed Rat forward when he wasn't moving fast enough.

People stared at them. But they would have been staring at Rat anyway. At least now nobody dared to bother him.

What if they actually ran into Thalmor though? They would definitely not stand for a nineteen year-old half-Altmer Nord impersonating their officer.

Talos looked so different. Rat still remembered the docile kid he knew back then. Talos didn't talk much or do much. He was often in Dylia's shadow – his younger sister, but the self-proclaimed leader of the little kids in the clan. They needed one, Chomp said. The bigguns were tormenting them and the other ones had their own things to escape to and to protect them. Rat didn't know much, he only traveled with the clan for a few months and mostly just because none of them cared about another addition – they weren't gonna give him anything, but they didn't mind him hanging around. The bigguns had other concerns, it looked like. As long as the kids brought money, they didn't care who they used to help them.

Not that Rat ever helped much. He was the one being helped. Chomp tried to teach him some stuff with the bow, but she didn't know that much either. She wasn't allowed to be armed.

She just took a shine to him and he liked her too. So she wanted to have him around. The others were friendly too.

What happened then? Why did they leave him behind?

He had nobody.

But now they saved him. Why?

He watched Talos the entire time with fascination. He really did look more like an Altmer than a Nord. How did he do that? His skin wasn't this golden when he was small. His hair wasn't this fair.

Rat had so many questions.

But he didn't manage to speak at all before they got here. He was exhausted and hurting all over.

Talos ushered them to that small house where an old woman was sleeping. He woke her up and passed her a coin purse and then she laid Rat on the bed she had previously occupied. It was all so hazy.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe he dozed off. But now things were coming to him again – his surroundings, the people there with him. Talos sat on a chair in the corner of the room. He was no longer wearing those black and golden robes. He was dressed in commoner clothes that would make anyone blend in. Well… anyone but him. The soft fluffy hair and the regal expression remained.

Chomp was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching as the old woman fussed over Rat. Right now she had his arm in her hands. It was no longer broken, but she kept running her fingers over, lit with magic, over the patch of missing skin and the half-peeled-off bit too. It didn't hurt anymore. Rat didn't remember it happening, but he must have had some numbing potions in him.

"Chomp," he finally spoke. His voice felt hoarse – either from the pain, from the shrieking, or from the lump in his throat.

"Hey, Rat," she gave him a wry smile. "Been a while."

No fucking kidding!

But getting mad right away was a bad move. He needed answers first.

"What… what happened?" He wasn't sure which explanation he wanted. They were probably confused as well, but he needed to hear theirs first.

"Hmm..." Chomp mused, her black hair falling into her face before she brushed it behind her ear, letting some of the silver rings in it chime softly. "I'm not sure what you're asking. You mean now? Well… we… we're looking for something in the City. We were just getting shit to put us up, you know?"

"We have a tactic. Chomp steals. If she fucks up, I come in to 'arrest' her," Talos shrugged, explaining almost disinterestedly. As if it was no big deal to play a fucking Thalmor officer to bail her out.

"Are you… are you in the…" Rat stammered, but a loud half-laugh, half-snort from Chomp interrupted him.

"In the Dominion? Are you fucking kidding? Him?" She couldn't stop chuckling at the notion. "He's a fucking Nord! You think they would take in a fucking Nord?"

"As if I would even want to," Talos rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"And with that name!" Chomp put her arm over her stomach as she continued to laugh hysterically. It was a wonder she didn't roll off the bed. "Can you imagine? They're fucking supposed to eradicate all shit and people talking about Talos. And you think they'd recruit a Nord named Talos?"

Alright, alright… it was a ridiculous notion. He got that.

But still…

"You… you look so…"

"Gorgeous?" Talos smirked confidently, eliciting an annoyed groan and an eye roll from Chomp promptly.

"Uhm…" well, yes, but that wasn't what Rat meant. "I meant…"

"He's got a real inferiority complex, you know?" Chomp snorted in amusement. "His Altmer features were too visible not to notice and how do you think actual Altmer reacted to the filthy half-breed?"

"Shut up," Talos growled. "As if everyone can't tell with you, piggy."

"At least I'm not trying to turn myself into an actual Orc," Chomp rolled her eyes again. "The skin? That's makeup. And the hair is dyed to be blonder, as if that idiot never saw a dark-haired Altmer, and of course it hides the ears."

Rat finally tore his eyes from Talos for a moment and looked at Chomp. How old was she by now? Sixteen? She looked so different. He still remembered the others teasing her for her looks when she was little. The little piggy girl. How could Talos still call her that? The jutted lips and the greenish tinge to her skin only made her look interesting. She did look similar to her older sisters in her face now. At least from what Rat remembered of them.

"Not like you could get any uglier," Talos scoffed.

What?

Chomp flushed a bit at his comment, but she didn't retort.

Rat felt uncomfortable and didn't know what to say. So… Talos was making himself look more like an Altmer for his schemes. Or maybe because of what Chomp said – he wanted to look like one of them to stop being shunned by them. That still didn't explain everything.

"The… robes?" He asked uncertainly.

"They're not Thalmor robes. That would be insane of me to wear," Talos sighed. Right. They would arrest him instantly. "It's just similar enough to scare the idiots I need it to scare."

"So… what do you do if a guard catches her instead of just a person?" Rat scowled. Surely he didn't pull the Thalmor stunt on guards.

"What do you think? She's on her own. Luckily she's not an idiot. Most of the time," Talos shrugged.

"I watch myself. I don't take risks near guards," Chomp nodded reassuringly.

If only I had been attentive enough to do that.

Then again, it was usually the people who caught him and dragged him to the guards. And then to prison again and again.

"Rat, I can't believe we spotted you just like that, out of the fucking blue," Chomp shook her head somewhat incredulously. The healing was done by now and the woman just stayed in the room quietly, leaving them to talk, but Chomp still looked at his arm in concern. There was going to be a patch of skin missing no matter what, but the pulpy mess underneath was no longer… open. There was a soft crust of hardened skin on it now.

Concern. Right. Fuck her concern now!

"What happened to you, Rat?" She cocked her head to the side.

"What happened? A lot of shit happened when you abandoned me for ten fucking years!" He couldn't hold it in anymore and his outburst made Chomp flinch and Talos raise his brow in confusion.

"What? Rat! I didn't abandon you," she shook her head incredulously, letting the rings in her hair chime again.

"Of course you did! I waited for you! Why… why didn't you look for me? You promised to come back." He had trouble keeping his emotions at bay. It had been a long day. It had been a long ten years. "You said… you said you would look out for me." Two years younger than him and that little girl still made him feel like he was safe and protected for once in his life.

"I looked for you!" Chomp's eyes went wide. "I looked for you everywhere in Anvil. I… it did take a few months, but I did. Where did you go, Rat?"

Wait, what?

"I… I went to the City. I… got some money from… from your brother. And I went to the City to find you. You said you would be there," Rat shook his head.

"What?" Talos's eyes widened at him, but Chomp didn't seem that caught-off guard. Or maybe she just focused on something else.

"We did go there, but we left soon because of… fuck I don't even remember. It's been so long ago and all that shit that happened after… ugh. I didn't think you'd come here! You had no money to come here. How could I… wait… who gave you the money?"

"He… he was looking for you. He said he was your brother. He had the same eyes as… as those… 'bigguns'."

There was silence. Talos nodded in realization, but Chomp's face twisted in disdain instead. Did he say something wrong?

"That's… that's so fucking rich. So he didn't take enough away from us in Leyawiin? He had to take you away too?! For ten years?!" She fumed.

"Chomp," Talos let out a sigh. "Stop. It was for the best."

Wait, what did that mean?

"'For the best'?" Rat scoffed. "This City is worse than the fucking Void! I'm either shoved in some orphanage, beaten daily, or shoved into a prison with the same fucking result! I should have fucking stayed in Anvil. How do you figure this is for the 'best'?!" He was still angry about how his life here took a turn for the much worse. And he had no idea that was possible.

Chomp looked like she tried to swallow her anger and instead she looked at Rat with pity and regret in her eyes. She flinched, as if she wanted to hug him, but she stopped herself right away. Maybe she wasn't sure if he would accept.

"That isn't what I meant," Talos sighed. "There's… a lot of things happened. We should talk somewhere else."

The healer woman gave him a brief scowl. She looked invested in their drama. But it was a little strange getting so emotional in front of a stranger. Maybe Chomp and Talos were strangers to him now too though.

Funny.

So many years and he still clung to his childhood dreams of… of a family. Of someone with who they could look out for each other.

"We should go to the Feedbag. Talk properly," Chomp sighed. "Got any money left?" She turned to Talos.

"After this?" Talos narrowed his eyes at the healer woman. "Hardly. Maybe for one room. Maybe a loaf of bread."

"It's better than I've seen in ages," Rat mumbled under his breath, still a little peeved.

"Let's just go," Chomp sighed and hopped off the bed.

Rat followed suit, though his leg still felt so weak. Chomp and Talos didn't even give a glance back to the healer, but he muttered a barely audible 'thank you' to her. He wasn't sure if he would have survived the wounds and exhaustion without her.

And he wasn't sure what his life would be like now that they found him.

Would they leave him behind again?

He wasn't sure if he could take it.

…

"So… what were you doing in the Arena? Are you staying in the City again?" Rat played a little with the piece of fresh bread between his fingers.

Talos wasn't lying. He only had money for a room for one night and a loaf of bread. They split it into three parts and each of them began to eat their own serving as they retreated to the room. Despite his ever-present hunger though, Rat couldn't bring himself to gobble up his food. There were too many questions on his mind. Though he did enjoy sitting on the bed. He didn't remember sitting on a somewhat soft mattress in a very long time. There was one double bed and they all had to make do with it. But it wouldn't be a problem for them all to fit in it for the night.

"Another job for your bigguns?" He scoffed. Why else would they be here? Chomp and Talos were under the thumb of their older siblings all the time. It made sense – they were taking care of them, providing them protection of the clan and places to sleep, opportunities to make money and such. Rat always thought he needed someone like that. But it came with a lot of beatings. He knew that. Still… he got beaten up by everyone regardless, so how could it be worse?

Would they let him join the clan again? And would they just abandon him later once more? Or would they just not offer at all?

Chomp and Talos shared an almost surprised look, as if they didn't expect that question at all. How come? That was all they did. It was all the same.

They did look different though. When they were little, Rat would usually be able to see some signs of them being mistreated – a bruise here, a fresh black eye or just the general visage of exhaustion and despair. He had to admit, they both grew up to look much more confident and… like normal people. Not even like bandits. The only sign of violence was the old faded scar on Chomp's face which hadn't been there when she was little. Talos looked like nobody would even dare to lay a finger on him, lest they mar the perfection.

And did Chomp have an actual dagger on her hip? Did the bigguns allow her to have a weapon?

Maybe now that she was older. But Rat didn't remember the older sisters from before ever having any weapons either.

"The 'bigguns'… I haven't heard that in ages," Chomp smiled, though a little sadly.

Maybe they didn't call them that anymore. They were grown now too after all. Maybe it was just a kids' term.

"There's no 'bigguns'," Talos scoffed. "They all died ten years ago."

What?

Rat's eyes went wide. Ten years ago. That was when they abandoned him. What happened? Was this the reason?

"When we left Anvil… well… we were forced to leave the City soon after too," Chomp sighed. "They made us leave without you because of some deals of theirs, I'm sorry, Rat. You know how they were. They didn't trust an outsider."

Yeah. He knew. But Chomp told him where they went, as usual, so that he could follow. And when he did, they weren't here.

"We kept moving then, so quickly. Every time something went wrong. I don't even remember where we all went. Talos remembered a little more but… well, it's been ten fucking years and I was so little. I just remember… Leyawiin."

They mentioned someone taking something from them in Leyawiin. What was this about?

"The Leyawiin massacre," Talos sighed. "The man you met, our brother, he was lured here to find us. Kari had some plans or shit to make him kill Ost and Duful so that we'd all be free. Well… it worked. But not just that."

"They wanted to kill him too. We were supposed to lure in our oldest sister too in the meantime. They just wanted to get rid of all the old ones. I… I don't even remember shit," Chomp shook her head. "I remember we were told something, that Rina killed Ressel and that then everyone was there and… shit went down."

"First time I killed a person," Talos looked a little disturbed as he said that, but his confident expression returned swiftly. "We're the only ones who survived. Liesl and Galric too, I guess, and our older brother who was there to kill everyone. Everyone else died. Dylia, Ressel. And our brother told us to just… scram. So we did."

"He took our whole family," Chomp snarled.

"He did us a fucking favor," Talos waved her off dismissively. "We're better off without them. It was rough, but we are finally free of all that shit. And the money we get is actually ours."

Rat stared at them curiously. Whatever that was, maybe it was a good thing he wasn't around for it then. This… changed his outlook a little. Dealing with all this… they were alone and without protection then too. It was hard to get somewhere like that. He knew that.

"Why did he give you money? Did he want you to go after us? Did he want you to be there for that shit too?" Chomp growled hatefully.

"No," Rat only shook his head, still a bit in daze after the news. Very old news, apparently. But for him, the clan was the only place that ever felt… safe. Safe for lost causes like him. Fearless. It was strange to think of what happened to most of them. It was strange to think that he thought all this time the children who accepted him back then just abandoned him, only to hear about two of them being killed and the rest scrambling to survive. And if he had caught up with them in the City, if they stayed only a bit longer and he was allowed to follow… he would have been dead too. "He told me not to follow. He told me to use the money and start a life… to go to Fighters Guild or to apprentice somewhere. But… I wanted to go back to you." Maybe he wasn't as unlucky as he had thought. He was unlucky but… fuck, he could have been caught in that mess so easily. But he still felt bitter about losing the only people who ever made him feel like he was part of something and accepted. For ten fucking years.

"You're not the only one," Talos smirked. "Chomp had a clear plan the minute we escaped that shit in Leyawiin. We needed money and the moment we got enough for a carriage, she insisted on going back to Anvil to look for you again."

Rat's face flushed at the note. Really? He thought he was just a naïve idiot to chase after her like that, but did she really do the same? Now he felt really robbed. Robbed of the ten years they could have spent together instead of this shit.

"So… you two have been on your own ever since?" He asked uncertainly.

"And better for it," Talos nodded. "It's not like we're fucking rich or something, but we can take care of ourselves. It was tough, but… we learned valuable lessons when all that shit in Leyawiin went down."

"Fight strong but fight smart," Chomp nodded somewhat somberly. "We saw all the brute force taken down so quickly by all those fucking plots and schemes."

"So here we are," Talos smirked. "With proper tactics and able to take care of ourselves." He seemed proud of his Thalmor ruse. It just seemed dangerous to Rat, but… it was clever, he had to admit.

"What happened to you, Rat?" Chomp gave him a concerned look.

"Life here's shit… what else?" He sighed. But he suspected Chomp was more interested in what happened to him now. "I was… trying to steal from someone. He started to chase me and I fell into the sewer, broke my arm and leg. I called for help, but… there was this insane sewer woman. She was crazy. She kept me there for days, feeding me rats and sewer water. And then she did… this…"

He pointed to the peeled-off patches on his arm. It was all still a little surreal that this happened to him.

"How in the fucking Void did you get out of that?" Chomp gasped. She was sitting beside him on the bed and she peered closely at the marks after the skin-peel. Talos, in the meantime, sat in a chair in the corner of the room and he observed Rat thoughtfully.

"She… she kept talking about some… 'mistress'. How I needed to be ugly to be beautiful only for the mistress or shit. She kept saying she's ugly too and I… she seemed to care about that. I told her she was pretty and she freaked out. She put the knife to her face like she wanted to peel it too. And I pushed the knife then and… it killed her," Rat explained. His first kill too… It was hard to believe Talos had his when he was only nine or ten! What fucking mess that must have been.

"What? Fucking Gods, Rat," Chomp suddenly beamed at him. "You fucking fight smart from the get go. So clever," she grinned and tousled his hair proudly.

That was… heh. He didn't know how to react. Nobody ever called him 'smart'. Ever.

"Stoka," Talos suddenly narrowed his eyes.

What?

"What? You… you think so?" Chomp raised her brow at him. How did they know that name?

"You… you know who she was? She called herself that. I… I think…" Rat bit his lip uncertainly.

"Seriously?!" Chomp gasped and punched Rat lightly in the upper arm, probably in excitement. It hurt a little, but her earlier praise still rang in his ears and he didn't really mind.

At that, Talos suddenly began to laugh merrily.

What the fuck was happening here?

"Rat, do you remember how we met?" Chomp snorted at him and he merely nodded, still confused. "How I had a target to pickpocket and you got there first. Then he beat you and got distracted enough for me to rob him?"

He remembered. How could he forget, no matter how young he was? After Chomp was done snatching the man's coin purse, she knelt by Rat's side and began to cry so that the man would stop beating him. It worked and the guy didn't even check on his purse again after he caught Rat red-handed.

"It wasn't on purpose," Rat murmured. He didn't know Chomp was there. His intention certainly wasn't to get beaten up.

"Well neither was this," Chomp chuckled. "But it's still very much like that."

"We're in the City to find Stoka," Talos explained. "We knew she was in the sewers, but no details. The sewers are fucking extensive and sometimes dangerous. So we didn't even know where to start. But now you come in and you've already killed her," he chuckled.

"Why did you want her dead? She's some weird hermit. How did you even learn about her?" Rat scowled.

"She's actually a high priestess of Namira," Chomp winked. "She chose to live in a disgusting place to please that creepy Prince and she thought it would make her enlightened or some shit. It doesn't matter. What matters is… she was supposed to wear this… ring. A Daedric artifact. That's what we're after."

"A… a Daedric artifact?" Rat gaped at them. Not to mention that he apparently was held captive by a fucking cultist. How did that happen? "Why?"

"Why? You know how expensive this shit is?" Talos smirked. "We learned a lot from our clan, whether they meant for it or not. Religious shit makes people insane and rabid. They all paid for it with their lives. And everyone gives so much value to religious trinkets, it's fucking ridiculous. That's how we get our payday."

"We hunt for shit like this," Chomp grinned.

"But… how did you even find out about this?" Rat shook his head. A person had to have so many connections to find out something like that, didn't they? It sounded so impossible to him to even get that kind of information.

"My dear sister infiltrated a cult of Namira, of course, pretended to join to learn about any secret trinkets they might have. She's ugly enough to pull it off, our half-piggy," Talos grinned.

Why did he keep saying that? Chomp was so pretty. And again, she only huffed and flushed in embarrassment at his comment.

"I spent a month among those crazy shits," she rolled her eyes. "Didn't take long before they started to fawn over their high priestess living like some fucking example for them all in the sewer and 'rejecting everything the uninitiated found beautiful'. Fucking idiotic. But they said she guards their most holy artifact. The Ring of Namira… predictably enough. Stupid name. But it will fetch a great price."

Wow.

They seemed so… smart and capable. How did they learn how to do all this – infiltrating cults, probably traveling all around the Province?

Rat felt so useless again.

But... he wasn't useless this time, was he? He did the work for them. It made him feel just as proud as when he first met Chomp and she kept praising him how good he did to distract the man she was robbing. He didn't even mean to, but he still felt like, for once, he didn't mess everything up. Even if it seemed that way at first.

"This is fucking great," Talos grinned brightly. "Now you can just take us back to that place and we'll split the rewards three ways."

Wait… really? Rat kind of expected them to just go scour the sewers under the Arena and adjacent districts and forget about him. Or have him lead them there and not give him anything in return. He never got anything for helping them before – nothing but a place to stay and sometimes some food. But then again… they didn't get to keep their spoils before either. This was different.

He squirmed at the idea of going back to the sewer. He really didn't want to. But… this made him more excited. It made him feel like part of a team. He wanted to help them. But there was still one thing he needed to know.

"Split three ways?" He fidgeted, still playing with the bread. "And then what?"

"Then we enjoy the spoils and after we spend it all, we find another lead," Chomp grinned at him.

Rat only gave her a questioning look. What did that mean? What did 'we' mean?

"Come on, Rat. I know it's probably a shitty place to return to, but imagine what we could do after!" She gave him a bright smile and he noticed that one of her slightly pointed 'fangs' was chipped. "And I'm not leaving you behind again."

That was what he wanted to hear. What he needed to hear, but he was too afraid to ask for it outright. He didn't want to be alone anymore. And Chomp was the one person that made him feel like he belonged somewhere before. That was probably why he still clung to that idea, even now, ten years later.

"I'm so glad we found you, Rat," she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him amicably. "Not just because of that fucking ring. And not just because being alone with Talos gets unbearable sometimes," she chuckled.

"You're no fucking prize company either, piggy," Talos rolled his eyes at her.

Surely they must have liked each other's company a little though if they stuck with each other for ten years. Maybe it was sibling rivalry or some such? Rat wouldn't know. From what he observed throughout his life, their family was… different from the other ones he saw on the streets. But he still wanted to be a part of it.

"Let's get some rest then," Talos let out a satisfied sigh at last. "Tomorrow, we'll get the ring and after I sell it, we'll treat ourselves to a night at the House of Mirth."

Rat's eyes went wide. He only ever walked by that place and never dared to come too near. Only really rich people went inside that place and Rat heard rumors about it. Was this ring really that valuable?

And was this really how he would be able to live now?

It was hard to even imagine. It was hard to even accept the fact that for once, he was not alone.

How did that awful insane woman make his life so much better?

He hated getting hopeful – it usually only led to disappointment. But he couldn't help it now.

He wanted this all to be real.

Another Author's Note:

In case any of you wish to remind yourself of the story of Chomp, Talos of Rat ten years ago, well there's not that much there, but still.

Rat's encounter with Bishop and Aeyrin happens in the third book in chapter XI (11) – The Arrow's Head.

Chomp and Talos are very briefly introduced by Kari in chapter III (3) – As Arkay Demands. They are more active and discussed in the Leyawiin plot in chapters XXII (22) – The White Stallion until chapter XXVIII (28) – The Peace You Deserve.

That about covers their involvement in the third book :)