11th of Frostfall, 4E 201

After making our escape from the cave underneath the Thalmor Embassy, Ylva and I headed east towards Solitude. From there, we took a carriage to Dragon Bridge. "For safety reasons," Ylva had said. "Solitude is too close to the Embassy, and I would rather not get caught right after escaping."

It was just after dawn when we arrived in Dragon Bridge. For the most part, the town was still asleep. A few Penitus Oculatus guards roamed around the city, as did some citizens. They all stopped and stared as the wagon came rolling through.

"Can anyone help me get this man to the inn?!" asked Ylva as she jumped out of the carriage. "He's wounded and needs a healer!"

A middle-aged man in Penitus armor came forward, standing next to Ylva as I got to my feet. "At your service," he said, pressing his right arm into his chest.

Ylva nodded in thanks. "You have my gratitude, Mister...?"

"Japheth Mabierre, miss. And you are?"

"Ylva, sir. We're only passing through."

They both reached to support me on my way out of the wagon, Ylva on my left and Japheth on my right. It wasn't easy getting down; I pulled at every wound I had in my body, and it took everything I had not to scream and curse. As soon as we were clear, the carriage driver turned his horse around and headed back to Solitude, apparently unconcerned with the wounded man who had just jumped out of his wagon.

Once the carriage was out of sight, Japheth turned to a young man, barely sixteen, standing just off the road. He had blue eyes and dark hair, as well as a scar underneath one eye. A girl, about the same age as the boy, with striking white hair and deep black eyes stood next to him, looking between Ylva and me.

"Rowlen," said Japheth, "don't just stand there. Go get a healer."

Rowlen had a look of disgust on his face as Japheth addressed him, and he stood rooted in his spot.

"Boy, listen to your father and go!"

The girl next to Rowlen tugged on his tunic sleeve, whispered something in his ear, then dragged him away.

"Come," said Japheth as the pair left. "The inn's just up the hill."

"Again, thank you," said Ylva. "My friend needs a healer desperately."

"If I may say so, it looks like you could use one yourself."

Ylva shook her head. "I'm fine."

We mounted the steps into the inn, which was named Four Shields Tavern, and Japheth pushed the door open for us. Almost all conversation inside ceased when we walked in. Men sat with their mugs of ale raised halfway to their lips, eyes locked on the newcomers.

Japheth turned to the woman standing behind the bar. "Do you have a room available, Faida?"

She nodded and came towards us. "By the gods, Japheth, what's happened here?"

"They never said. I sent my son and Dairia to get a healer, but this man needs a bed and some water as well."

Faida motioned to the first door on her right, our left. "That one's available."

Japheth nodded and led Ylva and me into the room. My legs nearly gave out at the sight of the fur-covered bed.

Ylva took my weight fully on herself and helped me into the bed. "Easy, Etienne," she crooned, voice low and gentle. "You're safe now."

I groaned as I lay down, my entire body aching. "Thank you, Ylva. Thank you so much."

"What happened to you two?" asked Japheth as Ylva sat down at the table in the corner of the room. "Looks like you've been to Oblivion and back."

"Feels like it, too," I said.

Ylva set her satchel down, rolling her shoulders. She let out a heavy sigh, and I noticed for the first time the deep circles under her eyes. She looked so worn. Even though I was injured, hungry, and exhausted, I could only think about how much more tired Ylva was.

"Etienne was wrongfully held prisoner, and his captors tormented him," she said after letting out another sigh. "I rescued him, and together we escaped."

"Who were these captors? I can send troops out to their camp—"

"There's no point. They're all dead."

Japheth's brows rose, eyes wide in shock. "Well, in that case...."

The door to the room swung open, and Rowlen, the girl who was with him before—Diaria, I think Japheth said her name was—and a male dark elf in monk's robes stepped into the tiny space.

"Good work, son," said Japheth. The tone of his voice suggested that he didn't really mean it, though. "Go on back home."

Rowlen scowled at his father, but Diaria laid a hand on his arm to get his attention. Rowlen glanced at her, mumbled, "Yes, Father," then left with Diaria.

As they left, the Dunmer healer stepped towards me. "Rowlen wasn't exaggerating when he told me how bad these wounds were."

Japheth's brow furrowed. "But you can heal him, can't you, Thelus?"

The dark elf chuckled. "What do you take me for, Japheth? A novice? I can heal him."

"I'll leave you to it, then." Japheth shot a glance at Ylva, who had all but fallen asleep with her head propped on her fist. "Let me know if you require anything else, Ylva."

She nodded. "Thank you again, sir."

With a final nod, he left the room.

The healer, Thelus, rubbed his worn, gray hands together, giving me a weak but kind smile. "Just relax, Breton. Sleep." He held out his palms over my chest, and warm, yellow light spilled from his fingertips. "Rest now."

"He's right, Etienne," said Ylva. "You should rest."

Even as she said that, my eyelids were growing heavy. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't. The magic was soothing my aches, taking away my pain, and my mind was finally able to rest.

I listened to the sound of Ylva's voice telling me to sleep before losing consciousness.

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I woke to the sound of leather straps being tightened.

I cracked my eyes open, gaze flitting to the patch of sunlight filtering through the small window by my bed before I found Ylva by the door. She had just finished fastening her gauntlets to her arms, and she bent over to check her bootstraps.

"Where are you going?" I asked, voice weak, and sat up.

She startled, standing upright, and looked at me. She offered a weak smile. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head. "You're not leaving so soon, are you?"

Her face fell, almost like she was defeated. She looked no better than when I had fallen asleep; if anything, she looked worse. Her hair was disheveled and the circles under her eyes had deepened.

"Why aren't you staying?" I asked after she hadn't answered me for several tense moments.

"I can't, Etienne," she said at last, her voice quiet. "I wish I could stay, help you get better, but I can't. Riften is too far south, and I have too much to do."

"Can't it wait?"

She shook her head. "It can't. It's...." She swore under her breath. "Gods, I wish I could tell you."

"Tell me what? Why can't you tell me?"

"I just met you, Etienne. I know nothing about you. I wouldn't tell my best friend this. It's just... it's too much of a burden for anyone else to bear."

My head drooped, gaze falling to my wound-free chest and torso. The only evidence of the abuse were faint scars crisscrossing my body. Marks I would always bear. "Will I ever see you again, Ylva?"

"Probably not."

I jerked my head up. "What?"

She shrugged her shoulders, reaching down to pick up her satchel. "I'm sorry, but I think this is goodbye." She threw her satchel's strap over her head, then put her helmet on. "I paid the innkeeper for the room, five days in advance. I also gave her enough money for food and drink. She'll take care of you." She opened the door, stepping halfway out of the room. "When you're ready to leave, Japheth said that you could borrow one of the Penitus's horses to ride to Riften, if you want."

I sighed, nodding, a heavy weight sinking in my stomach. "I guess I can't expect any more than that. Thank you, Ylva, for everything."

A ghost of a smile twitched on her lips, her eyes momentarily glinting like sapphires. I would never forget those eyes for as long as I lived. "Goodbye, Etienne."

As she shut the door behind her, I lay back on the bed, whispering, "Goodbye, my raven-haired savior."

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13th of Frost Fall, 4E 201

A fortnight later, I returned to the Thieves Guild, saddlesore, fatigued, but very grateful to be alive.

Brynjolf was the first to greet me when I returned, and he pulled me into one of his Nordic bear hugs, which nearly bruised every bone that had just been healed.

"Good to see ya, lad," he said as he set me down and led me towards the Flagon, "but you look like death. What in Oblivion happened to you?"

"Well, it's a long story, and I only want to tell it once."

He nodded. "Understandable. Everyone's in the Flagon, so you can tell your story there."

Everyone welcomed me warmly, with pats on the back, embraces, and kind words. I never thought I would be so missed.

When it came time to sit down and describe my ordeal, I did my best to gloss over the brutality of my torture and instead focused on my rescue. I told them about Ylva, about how she was like a battlemaiden sent from Sovngarde itself. I told of how she faced off with the Thalmor with no fear, how she practically carried me all the way to Solitude, and about how she knew to flee to Dragon Bridge and avoid recapture.

From his corner of the Flagon, Delvin scoffed into his tankard of mead. "Sounds like someone's infatuated."

I scowled at him, although my heart did a little flip in my chest. "What do you know, old man?"

"Jus' callin' it like I'm seein' it."

I rolled my eyes and took a deep swig from my ale. I wasn't infatuated with Ylva. She saved my life from the Thalmor, and I was grateful. If Delvin were in my place, he would feel the same way. He didn't know what he was talking about.

Even so, I couldn't help the flutter my heart gave whenever I thought about my raven-haired savior.

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Just have to say a real quick thank you to Liz_Danly for letting me use her characters from her Skyrim book, Arch-Mage. As I've said before, if you haven't read it yet, go do so now! It's an amazing read, and probably my favorite Skyrim fan fiction ever.

I'm hoping to get the "Ask the Authoress!" answers up later tonight or early tomorrow. So this is your last chance to ask a question if you're going to ask one!

Requests are still open!

Until next time! Love and sweetrolls!
~WG 💙