[center]Featuring [@MacabreFox][/center]
[hr]
       A clear luminescent light filled the rented inn room, a hint indicating to dawn’s arrival. A brilliant beam poked through the shuttered window pane, and fell in a glaring fashion across Sevine’s face, rousing her from her sleep. Beside her still slept Do’Karth, his arm draped over her hip as they lay curled together. However, this peaceful image shattered at the sound of shouting. She shook Do’Karth hand before slipping from the covers and dressed herself in her leather armor, casting off the linen dress without hesitation. What in all of Oblivion was going on out there? Was it the Kamal’s? Her stomach bunched itself into a series of intricate knots as she lifted her axe and made her way out of the room. 

      There, she turned to her left, and spotted a small gathering of patrons outside a door to the inn rooms. Already, Ashav shooed them away, telling the onlookers that there was nothing to see, yet, she managed a glimpse into the room, and stepped back in surprise. Just beyond the tied-up figure of Farid, lay Orakh with a slowly pooling puddle of blood. Whatever had happened, it appeared to be a crime of passion, not of love, of course, but perhaps rage. She lingered at a respectful distance, as she had noted Edith’s presence within the room as well as Daelin. Perhaps her friend could clarify more on the puzzling circumstances?

Orakh’s blood threatened to seep into Edith’s boots. In the haste to get from her tent near the smithy to the inn, she didn’t even have time to put on any armor besides her hauberk. Hell, she barely had to time to do up her hair, which had now fallen from a messy knot into a curtain around her face. She had Farid’s dagger in hand, unsure what to do with the bloody thing, she decided pass it over to Ashav. “It looks Dunmer.” She quickly examined the blade. With Farid securely restrained by Daelin and Dough-Boy going on about some Mehm (which sounded like a name Ashav might have mentioned), Edith gave a tired nod to Sevine to outside.

“Mehm.” Ashav grunted. He beckoned Daelin and Edith to come outside. “I need to talk to him, alone.” His gaze turned to the dagger in Edith’s recovered  and the flute discarded in a corner. “Daelin, go find Ariane and her truth serums.”

Daelin nodded. “Is this the same Mehm we saw at Rorikstead?” He asked before leaving.

“He is.” Ashav answered. “There’s no way he could hate Orcs like that; his second is an Orc.” He leaned on the doorframe uncomfortably. “I need some time to find out what’s going on, just bring me the serum and wait outside. I’ve already paid Thoring to stay out of it.”

Edith knew better to interfere when Ashav didn’t want it. She strolled out and found Sevine still standing where she was. “Orakh’s dead, and Farid killed him.” She announced, straight to the point. “A lot happened this morning, the news, Gustav coming back and now this.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she sighed. Edith didn’t appear nearly as optimistic as she usually was. She took in a deep breath and smelled...cat? “Have you been playing kittens again?” A weak smile appeared on her face. It would be like Sevine to keep feline company, just as she did in their youths.

“Come on, let’s get some fresh air.” Edith led out. On her way, she washed off the bloodstain in a water basin, watching the crimson dissipate into liquid.

    There were two lines of thought that weighed heavily on her mind, the first was to address the incident with Farid, and the second to address what Edith hinted at. She chose the latter. 

“I've not had the chance to read the news, though I'm certain I'll hear it from someone in the company before the day is over.” She commented, as she held the door open for her friend.

     When Edith joined her outside, they set off with no direction in mind. The festival had wound down, and the decorations were coming down one by one. They strolled along in relative silence until Sevine spoke. 

“You know me too well, Edith. I've always held a deep passion for felines. I remember the time when you and I found a litter of kittens, and Ma wouldn't let me keep the one I brought home, but she changed her mind soon after when Pa fell asleep by the fire with the kitten on his chest.” 

“I suppose you’ll uncover the truth sooner or later, so I might as well tell you. Do’karth and I… we’ve entered a courtship. I never imagined that my heart would finally find someone.”

Walking through a quiet and off-beat street, Edith occasionally spared a glance at Sevine. “A lot happened around the world, and none of it good. Well, were there ever good news? I think what happened in Hammerfell set Farid off.” She sighed. 

“Remember Svari, my cousin? She used to love braiding your hair when we’re little girls.” Edith smiled at the simple joy of youth. Up ahead was a crossroad, where a few people were carting away decorations from the festival. The excitement of celebration was all but gone now, and in its place, the stark reminder of daily labors and enemies not far from the doorsteps. She waited for them to clear first, then made sure no one was around her before continuing. “I haven’t kept contact with her recently, but the [i]Gazette[/i] said she just led a rebellion in Falkreath.” Edith checked the surroundings again, uncertain about suspicious characters overhearing their conversation. “They call her the Ice-Heart now, and she’s the jarl of Falkreath. I hope your sister is fine.” 

    The news of Svari, Edith’s cousin, caused Sevine to glance at her childhood friend in surprise. “May the Divines keep her safe, your cousin always had a passion hotter than any forge. I can only pray that my sister is well, I sent word to her when we first reached town, but I've not heard from her since.” She mused quietly, wondering now what turmoil brewed now in Falkreath. A long silence came between them before Edith spoke again.

“I do remember those kittens,” Edith nodded, “my aunt couldn’t stop sneezing around them.” She chuckled, recalling how she used to think people from the south (where her aunt came from) all had allergies to cats. 

“I am happy for you.” The smiled faded and she wasn’t sure if she was truly so. She should be when her friend, if they could still were after so long apart, found her soulmate. But on the other hand, she saw a distraught Leif slurring hopelessly last night, and it was no secret how that man fancied the Huntress. “But does Do’Karth truly love you?” Edith regretted what she said immediately. What was her place to judge? Still, she had known Sevine longer than anyone else in the company, and she didn’t want her old friend to be taken advantage of. 

“Listen,” Edith tugged on Sevine’s arm, “I saw Leif last night, and he was heartbroken.” She picked off several strands of cat (Khajiit?) fur from Sevine’s sleeve. “I believe he’s jealous of Do’Karth.” Edith leaned in and whispered. It was like something gossiping children would do, but she felt quite necessary. 

Sighing at the mention of Leif, Sevine nodded, she knew. “Aye… I heard from Thoring of his raucous behavior. I have an inkling for what I may encounter when he wakes from his drunken stupor. He is my friend, of course. We fought side-by-side in many battles back in the war, and when…” Her voice trailed off at the thought of the night their encampment was raided by the Imperial's, a tactic used only to instill fear in their hearts, and to discourage them from fighting. Leif had gone to great lengths to tend to her wound, as she would wake from her feverish haze to see him dozing off on a stool next to her. Her heart felt for him, for she did not know the depths of his love, but then again, she justified her repulsion towards him because of his womanizing ways. She could never love a man like that. 

“Leif shares deeper feelings for me than I could ever muster, nothing more than a friend to me. From the way Thoring spoke last night, I can't say I'll be surprised if he wakes up itching for a fight. I have half the notion to fight him myself, if it comes to that.”

“As for Do’Karth and I, you could say that we are two souls in a vast world that happened upon each other in the way we did. We have both done actions that would shame our mothers, and yet, we do not judge one another for what we have done. And that is all I have ever wanted. Besides, any Nord man here will never see past my Name, and that, I fear, is only what garnishes their interest in me. So yes, I suppose you could say that Do’Karth and I share intimate feelings for one another, though it is still early on to say if it is truly love.”

“Tell me, do you think I am in the wrong for what I have done?” Sevine asked, suddenly concerned that she didn't even know what she felt, or understood her inner emotions properly. She was a woman of great patience when it came to delicate matters, but as in the past, on the battlefields of war, she had rushed headlong, and made a rather hasty proclamation of love to Do’Karth. Yet, she knew that what actions she did act upon, were true of heart. The doubt still remained.

Hearing what Sevine had say, Edith felt uncertainty in where the Huntress stood. She was obviously glad hearing how Leif saved her friend’s life during the Civil War. However, she felt a tinge of regret for not being there herself. “I understand.” She clasped a hand on Sevine’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine the difficulties in a war, but I know I should have been there by your side. Whatever good that was, we sweared to be shield-sisters before.” Taking her hand off, Edith’s blue eyes looked sympathetically into Sevine’s green ones. “Leif sounds like an honorable man, and if you cannot love him, at least put his heart at ease.” Edith tried to counsel her friend. The last time they talked about love was when their imagination dominated their minds with gossips and romance. How things had changed, Edith noted.

“I would be careful about fighting someone in Leif’s state.” Edith cautioned. “You’re a skilled fighter, always better than myself, no doubt about it.” Sparing a glance at the axe on Sevine’s belt, Edith gestured to it as a symbol of battle. “I worry not only for your safety, but Leif’s as well. He could be reckless in combat, and that means he will put himself unnecessarily into harm’s way. It would not sit well with company knowing one of their members became casualty at the hands of another.”

A crowd of dockworkers suddenly appeared out of one corner of the street. Edith, in the interest of privacy, decided to walk in the opposite direction. “When you went to enlist in Windhelm, I applied for the Companions; that Edith five years ago saw herself fighting a bigger fight than common soldiers. I don’t know you still consider me your friend,” Edith started a good distance out of dockworkers’ earshots, “but as a fellow Nord woman, I learned that sometimes the heart and the mind desired two polar opposites.” Covering her eye as a bright sun emerged between houses, Edith spoke as earnest as she could. “I used to have an affair with a fellow mercenary, a warrior called Iron-Pumper. He was fearless, poetic and always had a supply of sweetrolls handy.”

“But when we traveled to Bruma to clear a coven of necromancers, we found out Iron-Pumper had made a deal with our targets for his own benefits.” Edith ran a hand through her hair. This was not an easy story to tell, and as a consequence, something she did not normally share. “He refused to back down and wanted to dispute his charges, so I fought my lover as Ashav’s champion. I can say that single kill was the hardest in my life.” 

“Come to think about it, Farid’s fate will probably go down like this.” Edith speculated. “What I am getting at is that we should not only follow what the heart wants, but also what the mind wants. If you still love Do’Karth past the heat of passion, then he truly deserves your heart.”

      Listening on in quiet contemplation Sevine marveled at the unraveling tale that Edith revealed. She pondered on whether Leif had it in him to betray her like Iron-Pumper had. It certainly left a heavy unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she managed to put aside the nauseating thought, she found courage to look Edith in the eye.

“Then perhaps I am not the one to fight him. If I must, I will, but from your words, it will not be an easy feat. I am sorry, that you were betrayed in such a way, Edith. That is unforgivable, what he's did to you and your companion’s. You are a strong woman, and after all these years apart, I still admire you. You shall always be my friend no matter the end.” Here she offered a sympathetic smile, it was the least she could do after hearing something like that.

“Thank you.” Edith returned the smile. There was the compassionate Sevine she always knew, the person that she always counted on and be counted from. “It is good to have something positive from the past, even if it is just one friend.” She felt a sense of relief in knowing that the years had not ripped them apart. “I will lend you my shield if Leif provokes you. But I believe Do’Karth will be the target of Raven-Stone’s wrath, and if he truly wants the best for you, then he will do everything he could to defuse hostilities.”

“But enough of this dreary talk.” Edith declared. “What we need to cheer the morning up is this wonderful troll scab perfume from the herb shop.” She dragged her friend away by the hand. “Trust me, it smells much better than it sounds.” A giggle escaped her.

     While the thought of having two men fight over a woman, would sound appealing to any ordinary woman, Sevine dreaded that possibility, and knew that Edith spoke the truth. Yet, she allowed her friend to take her by the hand and drag her away.

“Troll scab perfume? It sounds revolting, but alas, you know me, curious as a cat in a haystack. Why they couldn't name this perfume something more...well, better, is beyond me. Jasmine Spring, or Heavenly Dream, sounds much more appealing than Troll Scab.” She scrunched her face at the name, but her eyes were alight with amusement at Edith’s antics; it made her forget, for a little while, of the maddening events taking place in Skyrim and across Nirn.