"He is asleep," Hellina said to the three women seated at the rectangular table. The fire in the stone hearth lent a welcome warmth and warm light to the cool, gray, rainy afternoon, and the mood in the common room was almost cheerful. Hellina paused to look at the tea leaves at the bottom of her mug before adding hot water from the kettle and replacing it on it's hook by the hearth.

"It is an excellent bed," Carcette said, drinking from her own mug as Hellina took her seat again, "but I admit that I grew tired of it after two weeks of idleness. Your friend will do likewise, I am sure."

"We will ensure that he is entertained," Ria said before looking at Njada and smiling.

"Careful you do not kill him with affection," Carcette replied as the four women laughed.

Darkness had truly fallen over the Loreius Farm when Nora, having departed only a few hours earlier, returned; but it was not Danica Purespring that accompanied her.

"We met on the road," Nora said to Ria and Curwe as she stepped down from her saddle only seconds before Aric stepped down from his own.

"Thank the Gods," Ria said quietly to herself when she recognized the beautiful, dark haired man as the pair approached the farm at a canter before stopping finally.

Aric took one brief look at his fellow Companion, who was still covered in Dralof's blood, before proceeding quickly into the farmhouse. His glance at Njada, and the man on the bed, was just as brief before he removed his gauntlets and cloak, knelt by the blood stained bed, and cast the first in a series of spells.

Those who knew Heimdall Aric Belrud Aamutähti, Thane of Whiterun, The Pale, Haafingar, Eastmarch, and The Reach, Archmage of The College of Winterhold, and Dragonborn well, knew him to be a powerful Healer; but three healing spells in quick succession drained even his well of strength, and it seemed to Njada and Ria that he had transferred a portion of his life's essence to Dralof when the man in the bed began to gain color, and breath easier, as his wounds closed. It was Aric that now looked drained, and paler than when he entered the farmhouse.

"It is nothing," he said as he stood, his smile appearing, which reassured everyone present, "A bowl of barley stew and a glass of wine is all I require. But he must not be moved, not for at least a day. I will brew more potion tomorrow. If I am satisfied with his progress then, we will move him to the house."

"Where are we to sleep tonight?" Vantus asked, the irritation clear in his voice and demeanor.

Njada's emotions had been taxed to their limit for several hours, and when her anger rose to the fore she did nothing to quell it.

"If you speak to us in that tone again I will drag you to the Giant's camp, and you may sleep there with his mammoths."

"This is my house, and you have no right to speak to me in that way," Vantus said defensively.

Aric spoke calmly to his neighbor. "I know you did not suggest that we should risk this man's life just so you could sleep in your own bed. You merely asked a practical question."

Vantus took the offered refuge quickly, and eagerly.

"That is all I was asking, I meant no disrespect."

"Everyone has had a difficult day, and emotions are running hot. It is completely normal. As your friend and neighbor, and as Thane of Whiterun and The Pale, I thank you for the use of your home. Nora will escort you to Heljarchen Hall. You will sleep in my bed tonight. When we can move this man, whose name I still do not know, I will replace your soiled bedding from my own stores. One of my guards will watch your livestock."

"His name is Dralof," Ria said softly, as she knelt by the bed and used her hand to caress his head.

Aric observed the two women, who he knew to be skilled warriors, no strangers to injury, or death. He had trained with each of them, and his mind still held the image of the two of them, with Athis and Torvar, facing his daughters and the twin brothers. But he had never seen them exhibit this level of concern for anyone.

"I will bring bedding for both of you before I retire," he said the them, "you may take turns and sit watch over him if you like, but in any case he will not stir, and I believe he is out of immediate danger. I suggest that both of you take the opportunity to rest."

Rest they did, for almost ten hours, though each of them woke during the night and early morning to check on the sleeping man. He was moved to Aric's house eventually, and had recovered enough strength in a week's time that he could be safely, though carefully, loaded into a well padded wagon from Aric's own farm. His journey after that was almost identical to Carcette's as she was herself transported from Heljarchen Hall to The Silver Hand's collection of buildings west of Dawnstar. Nora visited a week after that, but only to bring more potion and ointment. His wounds continued to heal well, but it was his hand and arm which were now the cause of the greatest concern.

"I believe that the feeling will return in time," Carcette had said to him in the privacy of his borrowed room; such privacy as could be achieved with two women present, both of whom swore that no command from the mouth of Men or Gods would drive them away.

"I see it there, my eyes convince me that it is still attached to me, but I feel nothing below my elbow," Dralof said, his lifeless arm sitting snug in its sling.

"I have had similar injuries in my life," Carcette replied, "all of them responded well to treatment, given time. Patience is what is required now. And loving care, which I see that you already have in abundance."

"I will not ask them to leave, but I admit that their presence makes me uneasy," Soran said.

Hellina's face before she spoke warned Soran that he would get no agreement from her.

"How so? They barely leave his room, and they almost never leave the house. And his initial assessment is entirely accurate: they are very much like us. Carcette and I spend hours with them, talking and laughing. We have become friends. I will not mention the small detail that they are very much in love with him, and he with them."

"It is not their presence that makes me uneasy; in that sense, I misspoke. It is the possibility that a member of The Circle will investigate their continued absence from Jorrvaskr, and that such an investigation will lead them here."

"The other Companions barely venture out of Jorrvaskr, and then only to intimidate the residents of Whiterun, and only for the right price. And if they did come, what of it? Let them visit us, either singly or in pairs, as Ria and Njada have. They show not the slightest enmity towards us. And judging by the way many of our number look at them, the feeling is mutual."

"There presence has had a marked improvement on moral, and hygiene, there is no denying it," Soran said with a smile, as he recalled the number of men who applied soap, water, razor, and scissors to themselves when it became clear that the two Companions would reside in their community for a time, "though Siggyr's reaction was more memorable."

"He walked into a tree," Hellina said dryly, "he was too busy staring at Ria to watch where he was going, he walked into a tree, and then fell into a hole filled with water."

"And it was quite memorable," Soran said as he laughed at the memory, which drew a smile from his lover.

"True."

Hylf and Krev stood in the hills above the collection of buildings as they watched the two women where they stood at the well talking to Terek. The dense needles of a conifer protected them from the rain, and also from the view of the men and women that had earned Krev's hatred simply by their continued existence.

"So now Soran and his whore consort openly with Companions," Krev said.

"They are not members of The Circle, but they are definitely Companions. The dark haired one is called Ria, the blond one is Njada. They are Dralof's pets or, more accurately, he is theirs."

Krev's mind was hard at work, building a plan of attack, though one that placed him in no danger whatsoever.

"How was he injured?"

Hylf was tall, and rail thin. He dressed all in black leather, and carried only two slim long daggers. He had a thin face that matched his frame perfectly, and his head was topped with dark black hair that was tied back by a simple piece of leather. His face, when in the presence of strangers, was almost always a mask. Once he had departed, those strangers would have great difficulty describing the man they had seen, resorting to some variation of, quite ordinary. But in the presence of his employer, he allowed his face to revert to the sneer that was its natural state.

"Falco says that he was attacked by a werewolf. He would have died if the those two had not been there to help him."

Would that they had left him to his fate, Krev thought. as he rubbed his unshaven chin with his bare hand.

"Did they know that he was their sworn enemy when they rescued him?"

Hylf had grown tired of stooping under the branches of the Pinus mugo and was now squatting above the damp earth as he watched the women carry their filled buckets back to the house while Terek continued on to his own dwelling.

"If they did not know it at the time, they certainly know it now. There are no secrets in that household. Everyone's affiliation is known; known and accepted, without argument, or complaint."

The plan continued to take form in Krev's mind as the patter of rain on the branches above, and the earth below, increased. They would have to seek shelter soon if it did not slacken, but it was still not strong enough to dampen Krev's growing enthusiasm.

"How do you think Kodlak Whitemane would react to the revelation that his Companions consort with The Silver Hand, plotting to supplant him, and kill him?" Krev asked as he squatted next to his spy.

Hylf's face as he looked at Krev displayed his confusion.

"Do we believe that is what they are doing?"

Krev shook his head as he looked at the man who was still a head taller than he was, even while squatting down under a mountain pine.

"Why does everything have to be explained to you?"

"Some friend you are," Siggyr said as he sat next to Dralof's bed, and the blond man who was propped up with an assortment of pillow, "you bring two beautiful women into our community, but you keep them to yourself. Now they are gone, and I barely spoke five words to either of them."

The two beautiful women had departed barely an hour before the red headed Nord arrived in Dralof's room to register his complaint.

"They have lives of their own, and responsibilities to match," Dralof had replied, though he knew full well that his closest friend's words contained very little actual criticism, "and I would not risk your health further by having them remain longer."

The large warrior placed his forehead in his hand, drew in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

"Gods blood, will I never hear the end of that? It was an accident, nothing more. I was distracted."

Dralof began to laugh, which made his chest ache, and Siggyr's heart swell, though it did not erase the image from his mind of when he first saw his friend, still looking like death warmed over, as he lay in the back of a farm cart.

"Yes, and I know exactly what it was that distracted you."

"Do not blame me. Blame the Gods, whichever one of them formed her into so beautiful a creature. And mine was not the only injury caused by that pair. In my case it was only my pride that was in need of healing. Aenar's thumb is still black and blue, and will surely lose its nail."

Dralof was nodding his head in agreement as he spoke. "A hammer, an anvil, and a beautiful woman; it is a dangerous combination."

Siggyr was not the only visitor that had sat in that particular chair, the same chair that Jurgan had used to read to Carcette during her recovery. Everyone in their community had heard how Dralof had come to be so grievously injured, though it had been Ria and Njada who had shared the details. But Siggyr was about to take his leave and return to Haafingar, and the home that he shared with Dralof a few hours comfortable ride southeast of Katla's farm.

"It will be too quiet without you," Siggyr said, "perhaps I will stop by The Winking Skeever, and invite that attractive Bard to come and keep me company."

"Your ambition has not moderated, I see," Dralof said as he lay back against the pillows to alleviate the pain in his chest and side, "It would be easier to move our entire cottage from there to here. And quicker as well. And more likely to succeed."

"I may do just that. I know two sets of attractive hands that would gladly assist me if it meant keeping you closer to them. But The Hand cannot abandon Haafingar. Some of us must reside there, as we reside in every hold in Skyrim."

"Yes, but we are both now fully initiated members. The Silver Hand has aspirants that can take up residence in our old lodgings once they are trained. Aenar and Langley would do well there. Let one of them vie for the affection of the lovely Lisette. There is just enough room for one more cottage here."

"In truth, I would not object to remaining here permanently. Surely Soran would not deny such a reward to the warrior that killed a werewolf single handed," Siggyr replied.

"Then it should be to Njada that he gives it. She killed the creature. Killed it, and rescued me."

The two men, who had rarely been apart for more than a few days for over a year, were silent as they considered their futures. It was Siggyr who spoke finally, as he looked at his large, rough hands.

"It is something to consider, but we need not rush. It will be some time before Hellina allows you out of her sight."

Dralof knew that his friend was correct. What he did not know was how many working arms he would have when that day finally came.

"Do not become a stranger to us," Hellina said to Carcetta as the Vigilant sat on the small bench of her small cart. She held the reins loosely, as she spoke to the woman who she now considered a dear friend.

"We are not so far away, friend. And your legs are not broken. You can always come and visit me," Carcette said with a smile.

The Keeper of The Vigilants of Stendarr in The Pale looked at her cart horse, who always seemed to be half asleep, even when he was walking.

"And it would take you much less time to cross that short distance than it would take me."

A shared embrace, a raised hand in valediction, and a moment alone as she watched the cart before it disappeared around the bend and proceeded south towards the Hall of the Vigilants, and the house that was now responsible for saving three lives that Hellina valued dearly.

It was clear that they could not continue in their current fashion. With Carcetta gone they had no one even closely resembling a Healer. Potion, poultices, ointments, and bandages were all well and good for common injuries, but it was clear that more was needed when dealing with injuries caused by werebeasts and night walkers. Much more. They needed a skilled Healer, and they could not continue to rely on the Thane's household to provide it.

The question now was where to find one?