[B]Vanq and I wrote stuff! Posting as her current whereabouts are unknown. This makes me sad.[/B]

[I]15 Rain's Hand, Insurgent Camp, Southern Hammerfell Coast...[/I]

Zaveed's pensive state of mind was shattered when a young woman's voice called his name in an excited manner, as if seeing a friend or family member one had been apart from for some time. The khajiit certainly was not anticipating fanfare or even much recognition amongst the stern faces of the fighters who wished to reclaim their homeland, it was almost as if it were a cry from another world- another life. He looked up to the voice, and was immediately taken aback by the all-too familiar Imperial girl who was hurrying toward him.

"Rena?" he asked, perplexed and somewhat alarmed.

The last time he had seen her was the night after Imperial City came under siege, where her aunt, Isabella, and her had accompanied the Heroes to their ceremony as something of a thank you for getting them off the street and out of the public eye. Zaveed and the others had helped the girl and her aunt escape as the city fell to the dwemer, and managed to slip out of the most unlikely place before the city was sealed off; the front gate. The last Zaveed had seen of the girl, him and the others were marching to Chorrol to reclaim the city from occupation and free the prisoners. Now, countless kilometers away, the same overly enthused dreamer girl who had been terrified out of her wits that Zaveed had personally pulled out of the cool river water to save her from drowning, stood before him, her beaming face at odds with the entirety of the camp around her, as if the war had yet to stake a claim on her soul.

"How are you... why are you here?" he asked, unsure of his own words for a change.

Rena could have swooned hearing Zaveed utter her names so smoothly. It felt like ages since she had last seen him, she wasn't ready to believe it was real. Her fingers quickly found a patch of bare skin along her neck. They snapped close and Rena let out a sharp cry.

"Oh, it's really real!" She flung herself towards the space next to the Khajiit and quickly pulled her legs up, her arms outstretched towards the fire. "Same reason as you, probably!" The girl's grin widened. "I was in with a bunch of refugees and then there were these men talking about fighting the Dwemer. So I volunteered and then I found you were here and then i just had to go looking for you. I need to fight with you guys, then I know I'll be safe." That she was equating safety with being in the thick of it all was not lost on her. It was simply the truth, the way of it. Now that she had found Zaveed, and the others couldn't be far away, she had found her place. "Say I can go with you, pleeease?"

It amazed Zaveed how oblivious, or indifferent, Rena was towards how others perceived her. She was eccentric, loud, and rather out of place in the camp. Still, after the rather somber days past, her vivid and enthusiastic disposition was a welcome reprieve. He listened to her tale, knife held loosely in his hand, as the two stared off into the flames. "Safe. You and I have differing thoughts of what that means." Zaveed replied with a low chuckle. "Where we're headed is hardly a place of refuge or even security. There's a good chance many of us will get hurt, but sometimes one cannot pick their road, no?" he looked at the girl and offered a mirthful smile. "As for you coming with us, well, somehow you managed to find us again at the ends of Tamriel with very few leads to go off of. I don't think I could stop you if I tried. You are rather resourceful, as it turns out. But do you know how to fight?" he asked.

Rena shrugged, smile still firmly in place at Zaveed's comment about her definition of safety. He probably just couldn't understand, he and his group had lived through so much. Of course it was safest nearest him. Her survival in the Imperial city was proof of that. And he said it too, they might get hurt, not die. Those were much better terms than the awful, horrible life she had lived in the past few weeks. But none of that mattered unless he said yes. She was ready to beg and plead if need be.

"OH Zaveed! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her body was humming with the thrill of getting exactly what she wanted. "You're right, nothing could stop, no Dwemer, nothing!" So close to him, she threw her arms around him in an awkward side hug. "You won't regret it! I can fight. Aunt Isa didn't like it, but I can. I learned. And, well...I've killed stuff...like wolves." She let go, her arms getting more animated as she tried to explain, her eyes wild in the light of the fire. "And I, I...stabbed some people. They were trying to hurt me and steal my stuff. They wouldn't go away so I grabbed my dagger and just..." She thrust forward and slashed, miming her explanation. "But I can do more! I'm good at enchanting things, auntie let me help out with that at her shop back in the City. And I can smith a little, but I really only liked making jewelry. I could make you something! But, I don't have any soul gems." Suddenly, the life went out of her. She couldn't make them anything to keep them safe if she didn't have soul gems. The flood of words were dammed in an instant and she sheepishly looked back to Zaveed. "But see? I can be helpful." It was a plea, a fierce want for acceptance.

It was hard not to share the girl's infectious joy and enthusiasm, her animated movement and expressions punctuating her words in an effective, but amusing manner. He was taken aback by her embrace, as neither of them were close, and as far as Zaveed could tell, she idolized him for some strange reason. Killing an Emperor was not an activity one would associate with fame and fanfare. He nodded along as she said what she had done, the girl may not have thought so, but killing wolves was no small feat, or defending what was hers. He held his dagger up before his eyes, turning it slowly as he surveyed the lethal blade with the fire reflected in it. "You know, I wasn't much younger than you when I killed my first man." he said, reflecting on the moment that was ingrained in his mind forever. "I wasn't graceful, I was clumsy, afraid, and probably more than a little malnourished. A grown argonian with a war hammer came at me, missed with a wild swing, and when he tried to bring the hammer up for a finishing blow when I was on my back in the mud, I lashed out with the shitty iron axe I was given and lodged it into the argonian's throat. It wasn't calculated, or even something I consciously did. It was a reflex, it was him or I, see?" he looked at the girl sitting next to him. "You may not think it, but the fact you were willing and able to fight or kill when was needed already tells me everything I need to know about you. Most people freeze up when they're faced with danger, you faced it and did what you had to." he smiled. "I'm sure we can shake down a few soul gems in this camp, there aren't a lot of mages, but there's always a few. Did you learn to enchant from your aunt?" he asked.

Rena listened in silence, something quite strange for the girl, but she was bewitched by Zaveed's story. That he would share such a personal story from so long ago was touching. Even one so excitable as the Imperial girl could see the sensitive nature and reasons for him sharing it. She would treasure the moment, and likely squeal with glee as she remembered it falling asleep, but for now, she found herself calmed by it.

Promises of finding soul gems restored her faith in herself, for even with Zaveed's comforting words, self-doubt and despair lingered. She had to be useful to them, she couldn't bear to find herself left behind again. Especially not by the Heroes. Rena shook her head at his question. "Aunt Isa used to give that work to Areldil." She wrinkled her nose up. "He was some old High Elf who claimed his father studied in Cyrodiil's Mages Guild. He started teaching me a couple years ago when my aunt made him." Rena frowned. She didn't want Zaveed to get the idea that maybe he should find old aunt Isabella. Dropping her face into her hands, her words were muffled but audible. "Aunt Isa didn't make it."

That took Zaveed by surprise. The Imperial woman was a cautious sort, and certainly washed her hands of danger at the earliest opportunity. It was difficult to imagine Isabella getting herself into any sort of trouble, but these were strange and dangerous times. He searched inside himself to feel something of news of the woman's loss, and came up short. He barely knew the woman, and he had witnessed countless scores of people die over his life. It was just another faucet of it. While he couldn't muster the emotions required to be properly distressed at the news of the girl's aunt's passing, he quietly resolved to add her name to the list of people who needed an avatar to represent them when it came time to take the dwemer down. "I'm... sorry for your loss. I'm sure she did what she could to keep you safe." Zaveed offered, looking over at the girl. She didn't seem particularly broken up about it; she was one tough kid. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Do you need some time?"

The tears weren't quite coming like Rena wanted them too. She had hoped to shed a few and be convincing enough to make sure no one would try taking her back to her aunt. She couldn't quite tell if Zaveed was buying it or not, but she dared not look up...at least, she had been resolute in that until the Khajiit hero's arm wrapped around her.

She could feel the heavy, muscular weight of it, even as lightly as he laid it around her shoulders. She had hugged him, briefly, but he had done this on his own. Rena was seeing stars, she suddenly felt so light headed while her heart thumped away. She gulped, pulling her face out of her hands and turning to stare at Zaveed, her mouth agape. There were so many words that wanted to come rushing out, but she was dumbstruck. He. Was. Touching. Her. The young woman forced her jaw closed and suddenly blushed deep crimson, a hitch caught in her throat as she finally found her tongue.

"I...yes...I mean no." If only she still had her journal. She had "lost" it, although she was pretty certain her aunt may have had a hand in that. "I mean...um....I should....uh...."

Zaveed had to suppress an outburst of laughter at Rena's excited discomfort. He was under no illusion he she viewed her "heroes", the incident in Imperial City still strongly in the khajiit's mind, she had more or less been embraced by an idol of hers. Zaveed hoped that she wouldn't be starstruck forever; they had work to do, and once you got past the whole insanity of two years ago, the "heroes" were exactly like anyone else... assuming anyone else had a history of violence and criminal activities under their belt.

Zaveed removed his arm from her shoulders, standing. "I will tell you what, if you wish to train with that blade of yours, I will teach you how to use it properly. If not, then perhaps I should retire for the evening and give you time to come to terms with what happened with your aunt. We have quite an exciting few days ahead, Rena. Before long, you'll be the one earning the famous reputation." he gave her one of his winning smiles and a wink, waiting for her response. The girl was over her head, but her heart was in the right place, he hoped. He knew what it was like to be alone without a family, it tended to make you take rather foolish gambles to make sense of things.

Rena wasn't fully herself again, though that wasn't saying much, until Zaveed had pulled his arm back. Like a breath of fresh air to starving lungs, her mind was able to function again. Emboldened if by nothing else than the adrenaline that was still flowing through her body, she readily agreed. Maybe she wouldn't become a hero like them, though she wanted to, at least she could get better at fighting like them. She could really help them then. "I know how to slash at thi--peop--attackers." She pulled out the small steel blade. "But, um..." She looked rather sheepishly at the ground. "I ran a lot too, away from things. But I won't run away unless you tell me to. I promise."

She kicked at the ground, she wanted to be good at this. She wanted to show them, Zaveed specifically, that she could do what they did. Her fingers gripping the short and simple hilt just the way her aunt had showed her, she slashed the air in front of her a few times. "Like this?"

The khajiit grinned. "Almost. Come, we'll find us an open patch we can train in." he lead Rena away from the camp fire and a bit more to the outside of the camp. He pulled his own dagger from its sheathe to demonstrate his points. He angled himself so his right hand with the blade was held back and his open left hand was facing towards Rena, raised in the air. "You turn yourself like this, you see. If you face an opponent straight on, you expose your body to them and give them a much larger area of attack. Unpleasant, if you cannot react quickly. Your off-hand is as useful as the one that wields the blade. It can be used to catch and deflect attacks, even if it is a simple strike. Come at me like you were going to stab me, but slow. We'll go through the motions before picking up the pace, yes?" he asked, smiling and flicking his fingers in a beckoning gesture.

Rena did as was instructed, and as the steel dagger made its way towards his chest, Zaveed moved his off-hand quickly but gently into Rena's wrist, pushing the knife away from him across his body. In the same motion, his hand clutching his dagger moved and stopped several inches from Rena's throat. "When you are fighting for your life with a blade in hand, stopping your attacker is just as important as killing him. Had this been a real fight, you would have had about a second to react to my counter. Your first impulse will always be to move the knife, to control it. Ignore this impulse, as your weapon is not going anywhere. Your head, however, might. Now, recover." he released her wrist and withdrew his blade. "If you were to say, slash, how would you go about it?" the Imperial girl demonstrated, and Zaveed caught her wrist, this time keeping it away from both of them and driving the point of his own blade towards her belly. "See, it's all about reacting. As you went to slash, you exposed your body to a counter. This is rather counter productive to living. Depending on how your opponent comes at you should dictate where you put their blade, and where you put your own. They will, of course, try to dodge and move out of the way, but we'll get there. Now, I'm going to come at you at the pace we're at and I want you to counter. Are you ready?"

Though she knew herself to be safe, that Zaveed meant her no harm, Rena was scared. Scared of getting hurt, the knife at her throat had had her gulping. But the movements felt strange, foreign. She tried to follow his instructions to the letter, her senses heightened, they overrode the frenzy that had come when he had previously put his arm around her. It was not a smooth process, she felt herself faltering and questioning each move she made. There were so many things to take into account, to think about. But still she tried, moving the blade while waiting and watching for his counter-attack.

In the slow dance of practice, Rena began to find the pattern to it. She had to be aware of her body, of where it was, but she could not think of it. Or at least, that was the rational that made sense to her in what Zaveed explained. Her body would need to move on it's own accord if she wanted her mind to be thinking about where her opponent was or what he was doing. It would take time, but the girl did have her first victory, no matter how many defeats had come before it. Her body turned sideways to Zaveed, she had caught and pushed away his hand that held the dagger. Rena, fighting to urge to move out and away, slid in towards him instead, her dagger stopped just shy of tapping against where his heart beat within.

"I did it." It was a surprisingly quiet exclamation, her tone filled with awe at finally having succeeded, even if it was at a pace far below what a real fight would be like. She cocked her to meet Zaveed's eyes. "I really did it?" As if to make sure that he had not allowed her the win.

She was rewarded with a grin. "I am rather glad you stopped yourself, I still require that." he said, glancing down to the tip of the blade pointed towards his heart. "You are a swift learner, it would seem. You earned your victory fairly, so do not rob yourself with doubt. Now, we'll try it a few more times to make sure you get comfortable with it, and then we'll work on your footwork." he said, adopting a fighter stance once more. "Begin."

The two lost track of time, gradually picking up the pace and before too long, Rena seemed quite comfortable with her lessons. More than a few times, she managed to slip Zaveed's guard and even nicked him on a couple occasions. As they practiced, Zaveed taught Rena how to move, where to place her feet, and what to do with her body in various situations. After a few embarrassing slips, she was becoming much more sure footed, and much more able to react to a variety of different attacks. It wasn't the same as training for several weeks, but it was quite the accomplishment in the session they had. Tired, hot, and sore, the pair sheathed their blades and made way to the makeshift tavern, where Zaveed purchased a drink for Rena and himself as they sat on the stools. "You did well today. How do you feel?" he asked, sipping from the warm amber glass. " Are you nervous about what's to come?"

Rena sniffed at the liquid in front of her. She still hadn't quite grown used to the quality, or lack of, in food and drink now found on the run. Her throat was parched though, and even though it was warm, she took one large gulp. It soothed her throat even if it tasted bad. Worse was the tiredness that seemed to soak into every bone and muscle on her body, she wasn't sure how much longer her eyes would stay open once the adrenaline wore off. She even found herself able to be seated next to her idol and not obsess over the thought of it.

"Tired..." She answered honestly, Rena kept her eyes on the mug of beer in front of her. Was she nervous? She hadn't felt like it before, she was doing what she just knew she had to. She was doing what was right and what would keep her safe, even if Zaveed thought that a strange sort of logic. But nervous...The Imperial girl fidgeted, picking at her fingers. "No, I'm not nervous." She sighed after taking another large sip. "I probably should be, aunt Isa always said there was something wrong with me."

"A fair thing. If there's one thing I learned leading this rather irresponsible life, it's that you grab sleep when you can, since a sharp mind is exactly what makes you capable of those split-second reactions and decisions that often mean life or death." he said, downing half of his glass in a long gulp. He pulled a Septim from one of his pockets and began to flick it between his fingers, staring at the slightly-dulled gold coin as he spoke. He smiled at Rena's response. The girl certainly wasn't your typical star-struck teenage girl. He would dismiss her bravado as ignorance, but he knew what she had endured, she was no stranger to danger, and she remained remarkably composed. "Your aunt always has been a stick in the mud, has she not?" Zaveed grinned at Rena. "Some people are just... made for a different calling. The idea of settling down and not doing something stupid, dangerous, and exciting frankly bores me. I know I should feel somewhat guilty, but a part of me enjoys all this. Being with like-minded people, exploring Tamriel, and doing things that very few other people can accomplish. That in itself is a feeling worth as much as any haul of treasure, perhaps more." he contemplated for a moment, studying the girl's expression. "You certainly seem more at ease around me now. Has the celebrity sheen finally worn off?" he asked with a laugh.

Less than thirty seconds later, Rena's intoxicated gushing immediately caused Zaveed to regret the question.