[center][i]Healing Beneath the Flesh[/i][/center] [hr][hr] The immense relief of being able to take a bath in Dawnstar's Windpeak Inn lifted Niernen's spirits so much she almost managed to forget the events of the past few weeks. The Dunmer ran her hands through her soft, moist hair and sighed with delight. "I'm sorry for not taking care of you properly," she mumbled to herself, cooing to her dark locks like a mother to her child. Having dried herself off with a towel, Niernen stared at her outfit for a full minute, wondering how to salvage the rips and tears in the wool and leather that were a thorn in her eye. She might be in the middle of a war but Niernen was still a nobleman's daughter. Looks meant something. A low grumble in her stomach broke her reverie and Niernen decided to momentarily shelve the concerns about her clothes and dressed herself. The leather armor, which had been perfectly form-fitting before her departure from Blacklight, now hung a little too loosely over her frame. Niernen grimaced and hid the visual reminder of her physical state beneath the folds of the grey cloak she'd picked up during her terrifying escape from Windhelm. "It'll do," Niernen told herself and left her room, locking the door behind her. She'd spent the remainder of the trip practically comatose inside the hold of the [i]Kyne's Tear[/i], recouping weeks worth of missed sleep, and finally felt a little rested. Sleeping any more would be pointless now. It was going to take time to feel like her old self -- what she really needed was food. Niernen descended the stairs and entered the main hall of the inn. Candles were lit, meat roasted above the spit and someone plucked away at a lute in one of the shadowy corners. Niernen wasted no time and ordered a huge meal of potatoes, pork and beef. "Do you have any flint?" she asked. The innkeeper replied with a blank stare. "Sujamma? Matze?" Niernen continued, sounding increasingly exasperated. "This is Skyrim, dark elf," the innkeeper said at last. "I have mead." Niernen raised her hands in mock surrender and added a mug of mead to her meal. Nodding, the innkeeper set about to preparing the food and Niernen took a seat near the fire. She stared into the flames and let her mind wander this way and that, but was careful not to let her thoughts stray too close to Do'Karth -- like asking herself where he might be or what he might be doing. The door to Windpeak banged open as Leif staggered inside, blood painted the lower half of his face in crimson streaks from the nosebleed he received only seconds ago. He looked one helluva mess, that remained a fact. Some folks turned their heads at his uncomely appearance and set to whispering amongst themselves. What happened? He appeared as if he just had his ass handed to him. With one hand pressed against the underside of his arm to stem the steady flow of blood, he half-walked half-limped to the counter. On seeing him, Thoring clucked his tongue in disapproval, his eyes sweeping over the man before him. "What happened to the likes of you?" He asked, the smell of cooking pork and beef wafted through the air as the innkeep turned to glance into the kitchen, checking on Niernen's meal so that it didn't burn. "Got into a fight with a cat." Leif said, the last person he wanted to talk with over what happened just moments ago was with a nosy innkeeper who enjoyed gossiping as much as the next person, "Do you have a rag and some water I could have? I'll take a loaf of bread while you're at it." He pushed a septim towards Thoring, where he watched the man bite the coin and then shrugged. Leif's head hung low, he could barely keep his head up, much less engage in petty conversation. He fished out another two septims when Thoring returned, "And a bottle of ale too." When he acquired the rag, pitcher full of water, ale, and loaf of bread he made his way over to the long table in the center of the room. He settled down into a chair and propped one foot up in a vacant seat. He poured some of the water onto the rag and began the slow process of cleaning the blood away from his face. The muscles in his arms grew heavy, forcing him to stop half-way through. His eyes shifted to Thoring setting down a plate of food before a familiar Dunmer woman just a seat away from him. He recognized her immediately, but wanted to make sure he had her name right. "Niernen, is that right?" He asked. He had to admit, she had a pretty face, and the scar running down her face did little to mar that. Distracted from her meal by the sound of her name being mentioned, Niernen looked up to see Leif Raven-Stone. She recognised his face from the Dwemer ruin and the [i]Kyne's Tear[/i], but did not know his name. Not that it mattered for what she was about to say next. "By Azura, what happened to you?" Niernen replied after hastily swallowing a mouthful of food. "I mean, yes," she added, "that's me. You're with the Company, aren't you?" Her coppery eyes went over Leif's blood-soaked face and clothes. "You didn't look this beat up the last time I saw you." He ran a shaky hand through his matted hair, thinking of the best way to give her an answer. He could be blunt and say that he had lost a fight to Do'Karth, or he could tell her the same as Thoring. In the end he opted for a more vague answer, "Love." He reached for the brown glass bottle of ale and raised it to his lips, drinking with a great thirst. Leif sat the bottle down with a shake of his head. "A painful subject when your love's not wanted, mm?" He asked more to himself than to her. "I don't think we've ever met face-to-face. I saw you last in Windhelm. The name's Leif." He outstretched his hand for her to shake, but then thought better of it and retracted his hand, after all, offering a blood-covered hand for someone to shake seemed rude. He returned to dabbing away at the blood on his upper lip. The elf's eyes sparkled with amusement and understanding at Leif's mention of love. She watched him offer and retract his hand and raised an eyebrow in response. "Oh, give me that," Niernen said eventually, shuffled over to Leif's side and took the cloth from him. "Lift your head," she instructed and inspected his nose. "Hmm-mhm. I can fix that. Hold still." He did as she instructed, curious as to why she went out of her way to help. He settled the thought with his own answer, Niernen must simply have a kind heart. After all, Dunmers and Nords didn't get a long too well as it were. Hovering her hand over Leif's nose, a gentle golden glow of Restoration magic flowed from her palm and set Leif's nose straight again. She wiped away the last remnants of dried blood from his chin and leaned back to inspect her handiwork. "Better?" she asked. Her eyes darted over Leif's body again and she spotted a few more injuries, including a nasty cut in near his armpit, but didn't presume to lay her hands there without being asked. "Anything else I can do for you?" When she settled back, Leif's eyes widened in shock. Normally he would have healed himself, yet for once, someone healed him. His fingers brushed over his nose, surprised to feel that everything felt in place, "Yes, thank you." He locked eyes with Niernen, he had had little interaction with Dunmers in the past, even when living in the Gray Quarter in Windhelm. He had assumed that all Dunmers had crimson eyes, but not Niernen, no, hers were a peculiar shade of amber with a coppery sheen. He realized rather abruptly that she had asked him a question. "Ah... if you don't mind, yes." His eyes darted away from hers, suddenly wishing that he still had blood smeared across his face to hide the fire in his cheeks. "I'm not sure if you have the strength to heal them all, but..." Leif winced as he reached for the hem of his tunic, where he pulled it off in one smooth motion. There, all across his abdomen and upper region of his chest were a series of strange wounds that bore the resemblance of claws. Here, he raised his arm and revealed the long gash that stretched from under his bicep to the bottom of his armpit. Niernen frowned and whistled. "Damn, Leif," she muttered and leaned in closer, prodding the wounds with the tips of her fingers. It was hard not to notice the sheer physicality of his body, even when it was wounded and bloodied like this. Niernen tried to ignore that. He was a patient, she was a healer. "Did you fight a wolf or something?" Niernen asked as she began with the smaller injuries, knitting the skin back together and cleaning the blood off as she went. The long cut in his armpit was going to take a little more effort and preparation -- she'd have to figure out exactly how she wanted to apply her healing magic beforehand or she'd mend it the wrong way or, even worse, run out of magicka halfway through. He sighed, closing his eyes while he thought. One way or another people were going to find out about his fight with Do'Karth, might as well tell someone now to save himself from questions down the road. "I wish that were the case. But no. I got into a fight with Do'Karth." He opened his eyes, watching as the flesh knit itself back together under the warm glow of her magick. "Stupid really. I did nothing but make a damned fool of myself." "You did what?" Niernen asked and sat up straight abruptly, her discerning gaze directly meeting Leif's sky-blue eyes. "Do'Karth? Really? The Company's resident pacifist?" she continued. Her tone was laced with wariness and concern. It didn't seem like the Khajiit at all to beat up a man so badly. Unless... Niernen's mouth fell open in an o-shape, almost comically, as she made the connection. "Ah." Her hands dropped into her lap and she stared at Leif for a few more seconds until she averted her gaze and began to laugh. Leif emitted an annoyed groan when she began to laugh, "Yes." He stated with a bitterness that he fought to control, after all, it wasn't her that dealt him this pain. With one hand, he rubbed at his face, hoping to calm himself before he overreacted. "I know. I know. Not the smartest idea. He... I..." His hand fell away as he stared back at her, "I know how you feel about him, I can see it in your eyes." he said perhaps a little too firm for his intended meaning. There were so many words he could have said, yet formulating a simple sentence to explain what he struggled with on the inside made it too difficult. Shaking his head in confusion, his mind a whirlwind of emotions, so he let his head fall back while his eyes travelled to the rafters above hoping to find some solace. "And that is how I feel, no, [i]felt[/i], about Sevine. She... is injured, and I have [i]always[/i] taken care of her. I thought that... just maybe she would care. I don't know what I was thinking, Niernen." He sighed in exasperation, hoping maybe that he gave her some insight to his actions before he shifted his weight uncomfortably in the chair. He brought his gaze to meet her coppery orbs again, they reminded him of a polished fire, if there ever were such a thing. "It doesn't matter now. She has Do'Karth, that's all there is to it." Niernen cleared her throat and crossed her arms in embarrassment when Leif said how he'd noticed her feelings for the Khajiit. She hadn't meant for it to be so obvious. His comment felt a little uncalled for -- she hadn't laughed [i]at[/i] him or his expense. No, she'd laughed because it felt like it couldn't be coincidence that she would run into the victim at the other side of Do'Karth's and Sevine's relationship like this. They were like two sides of the same coin; though Leif sure like he drew the shortest straw, Niernen thought to herself. "Yes, she does," the she-elf said eventually, as much to herself and the painful clenching in her gut as to Leif. "It's up to us to respect that." To which he grunted in approval, she spoke words of truth. Though apart of him held surprise at her words, she had used the words [i]'us'[/i], so she must have meant the both of them. Niernen's face softened and she took the cloth to Leif's chest again, healing the last of the various minor cuts and nicks. They faded away and barely left a scar. That left just the big slash in his armpit. Niernen tenderly lifted Leif's upper arm with one hand and pressed the fingers of her other hand against the ragged edges of the cut. Blood continued to flow from the wound. She bit her lip as she struggled to apply her knowledge of anatomy and Restoration. Was it better to knit the underlying flesh and muscle back together before mending the skin, or would the other way around be easier? Tutting, Niernen shook her head. "You know, Leif, this would be a lot easier if you Nords weren't so [i]muscular.[/i]" Realising how that sounded, Niernen hastily added: "Because that's harder to heal, I mean. Dunmer physiology is different." Niernen briefly glanced up at Leif's face. She cleared her throat again and focused on the task at hand. Out of today's events, Leif found the courage to smile at Niernen's words, "Is that so?" He teased, a half-smirk pulling his face to one side, "A Nord has to know how to wrestle a bear, and fight off a pack of wolves bare-handed, or else he isn't really a Nord." He found himself chuckling at his own remark and then let out a soft sigh. He regretted fighting Do'Karth now, and he regretted making an ass out of himself in front of Sevine. The Dunmeri's fingers were cool against his pained flesh, offering him more relief along with the restoration magick she had worked. "I appreciate the help, Niernen. Ah, if you, uh..." he helped hold up his arm for her, while the other hand overlapped her own. Carefully, he guided her hand to the deepest portion of the wound, upon doing so, his arm trembled and shook something fierce from the strain. Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth as he winced, white-hot fire raced to his fingertips and down to his hip, "That muscle there, ah shit," he swore under his breath, tears burning his eyes from the pain, "Can you heal that?" Of all his life experiences, never had he a woman with her fingers in any wound on his body. "Yeah, right," Niernen scoffed at Leif's comment on Nords. "You just stick to learning how to fight off cats, okay?" She glanced up at his face again and winked. When Leif guided her fingers deep inside the wound, she focused and looked away, using her sense of touch to determine if she was in the right place. The trembling of his arm and the grimace on his face was all she needed to know. Drawing upon the majority of her magicka that remained, Niernen fused the muscle fibers back together, slowly pulling out her hand as she worked. It was difficult and her concentration strained. After the muscle was finished, Niernen wiped a few beads of sweat from her forehead with her not-so-bloodstained free hand and took a deep breath. "I'm going to close the wound now, Leif, but it's not fully healed. We'll let your body do the rest," she said and shifted her weight, trying to get more comfortable for the last bit of work. She ran her fingers up and down the injury and the skin mended -- it was sloppier work than on the smaller cuts on his chest, owing to her exhaustion, and it still left a very visible scar. Niernen sighed when she saw that and dropped her hands as soon as she was done, leaning back in her seat. He resisted the urge to scratch at the newly mended skin. While his body still held onto the soreness of the fight, it was nice to know that he wasn't bleeding anymore. For a few moments he could do nothing but glance at Niernen. He watched her, worried that she had over-exerted herself by going to such great lengths to restore him. He could have done the last part, maybe not as well as she had, but still. Lifting his arm, Leif peeked at the pink scar from Do'Karth's claws, amazed that asides from stiffness in the muscle, it looked good as new. He turned his attention back to Niernen and offered up a small smile of thanks. "Best I can do," she stammered in between deep breaths. "You didn't have to do all that," he started, his lips pursing into a thin line, he extended his hand to her again, "If you ever need a helping hand in a fight, I've got your back." He figured that was the best he could offer her at this point in time. For once, his typical philandering thoughts were suppressed by the simple gratitude of her kindness. "I'll try to stick with fighting cats then." He added. Niernen chuckled and shook the offered hand. "Thanks, Leif," she said and resisted the urge to add something witty about his offer to cover her back -- there was obviously a joke in there somewhere, considering how his last fight turned out. As her magicka began to regenerate, Niernen's breathing recovered and she sat up straight. After a large swig of mead, Niernen looked at Leif again, sideways, thinking. "What are you going to do now?" she asked. The tone of her voice made it obvious she was talking about Sevine and Do'Karth. If Leif wanted to recover his friendship with either of them he would absolutely have to apologise, Niernen thought. Leif seemed humble enough now, during this conversation, but how long would it take for him to gather his courage to do something like that? Would his pride allow it so soon? Adjusting his chair just so, Leif scooted in closer to the table. He considered putting his shirt back on, but the fact that it was drenched in blood turned him off from doing so, he would have to wait until it dried. He settled on the thought of purchasing a new one before the day ended. When he heard her question he simply shook his head. What was there to do? He doubted Sevine or Do'Karth wanted to see him so soon after what he had done. "I think the best course of action here, would be to give them both the room they need. If I get the chance, I'll ask for forgiveness, but as of right now, I'm not going to do a damned thing, except drink this ale." He raised the bottle up in a mock toast and finished it off before tearing into the loaf of brown bread. "It seems odd, how the both of us managed to get caught up in all of... this" Leif gestured with a wave of his hand to mean the unintended affects of their relationship. "What of yourself? What are you going to do?" He asked after swallowing a mouthful, his indirectly implied his question towards Do'Karth. Surely she wouldn't keep pursuing Do'Karth emotionally, not if she wanted to have the same results with Sevine. Even Leif didn't want to fight her. Niernen nodded slowly at Leif's answer to her question. Perhaps that would indeed be best. When he steered the conversation back to her and her feelings for Do’Karth, the petite Dunmer sighed. "Same as you, I guess. I don't begrudge him his happiness at all. It's just..." She fell silent, wondering how much she wanted to tell Leif. She barely knew him and she wasn't sure if a man reckless and impulsive enough to fight Do'Karth was the best candidate to confidence in. On the other hand, Leif had been candid with her. Taking a deep breath, Niernen looked down at her food and continued. "After Windhelm I had to flee the city on foot into the forest. I made my way back to Morrowind because I wanted to see my family and make sure they weren't in any danger. The Armigers captured me and sold me to the Kamal as slaves. They said I was a traitor. Me! A traitor! I almost [i]died[/i] for my country in Black Marsh!" To emphasise her point, Niernen threw her cloak over her shoulders and yanked her leather cuirass up to her midriff, showing Leif the dark, faded scars of the Shadowscale attack on her abdomen that nearly claimed her life. "That Kamal ship of theirs we sank yesterday? That was the ship I was prisoner on. The whole time I was there I thought about Do’Karth. We had fought the Kamal together on the docks of Windhelm -- I don't know if you saw us, but we were [i]amazing [/i] -- and now that my family was out of my reach, all I wanted was to get back to him. He could keep me safe and make me smile. And I did get back, with the help of Valen, another prisoner -- he died yesterday, it was awful -- but then Do’Karth had found Sevine and, well... " By the end of her tirade, tears had formed in Niernen's eyes. "Now I don't know what to do. I'm scared, Leif. Every time we fight the Kamal something terrible happens, my family could be imprisoned or dead for all I know, and the person I pinned my hopes on is with someone else." She took a few deep breaths and blinked the tears away furiously, determined not to break out into full-on crying again. She was Redoran. Niernen wouldn't let herself wallow in self-pity forever. "Anyway," she said, sounding more composed, "all we can do is carry on." What could he say? In truth, no words could alleviate the pain she experienced, and he certainly didn't expect her to reveal what happened after the siege in Windhelm. His eyes widened at the sight of her faded scars, and even moreso when she informed him of how she had become a prisoner on the Kamal frigate they sank days ago. Leaning back in his chair, Leif covered his mouth with one hand, his eyes studying the distressed Dunmeri woman beside him. His thoughts hearkened back to the first wave at the docks when the Kamal appeared, and in that hellish fight, he had seen Niernen and Do'Karth fighting alongside one another. After all, he had been atop the ramparts ready to repel anyone that dared climb the walls. He understood her pain. The rejection, the having hopes of a future with a potential partner, only to be thwarted by another's appearance. It seemed unfair to him, especially in regards to Sevine. Leif's mind flitted to the civil war just four years ago, remembering how they fought alongside each other, how she guarded him and he her, how he tended to her wounds like a doting lover, and despite all the times he tried to woo her in a serious fashion, she never saw him like he did her. That cut him deeper than any knife could. A lump formed in his throat as his hand fell away to his side, the corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. A realization dawned on him, Niernen and him were more alike than he had imagined. It mattered not the color of their skin, or what language they spoke. What made him see her as his equal was the pain she carried in her heart, just like he did now. Leif rose to his feet, towering over her while she sat. By her elbows he hoisted her up on her feet, where he then pulled her into an embrace. His thick arms wrapped around her shoulders where he rested his chin atop her head. "You are stronger than you know. And that comes with the understanding that you can be weak, and still be strong." Niernen's surprise at being hoisted to her feet and enveloped in a powerful bear hug was too great to allow any resistance. It was a kind gesture, of course, but the hairy chest, masculine, sweaty musk and rolling muscles were a bit much to handle all at once and Niernen gently extracted herself from the embrace after a handful of seconds and patted him reassuringly on the elbow -- though what she was assuring him of Niernen did not know, exactly. "You're sweet," she said as she tucked a few rebellious strands of hair behind her ears and glanced up at the towering Nord, smiling. Never had she been so close to a man that made her feel so small. Her opinion on Leif changed; he was still a pretty ridiculous man, but if she wasn't mistaken Leif had a heart of gold. Either way, she felt better. It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one in this predicament and it was nice to be understood. He allowed himself a smile at her compliment, his gaze traveled past her to the table where her meal sat majorly untouched, "Best finish that before it gets too cold." Leif stooped to retrieve his bloodied shirt, now dried, and slipped it over his head. "I'm going to find a shirt, can't have a man walking around Dawnstar looking like this for too long. I'll be seeing you then." He gave her a curt nod of thanks, and made his way to the door. Though he stopped before leaving, and glanced back at Niernen one more time, "Thank you again." After sitting back down at her meal, Niernen turned around as Leif paused at the door. She smiled -- a warm, bright, genuine smile -- and gave the Nord a mock salute as if to say '[i]at your service[/i]'. Truth be told, she felt just as grateful as he did.