No Safe Place

"The Bannered Mare is a very well known tavern in Skyrim." He pointed out the inn they would be staying at.

As they walked in, Nords were everywhere. Markarth was a mix of races while Whiterun had the majority of Nords as its population.

"Welcome, I'm Hulda. What can I do for you two?" The owner approached them merrily.

"We'll take a room, please." A knowing grin crossed the innkeeper's face. The Breton's silver eyes grew wide with embarrassment.

"I can get my own room, Merek." She insisted.

"No need, dear." He smile noticing and added to Phynii's extreme blush as he handed Hulda the coin.

"Upstairs on the right. We have fresh mead and food if you're hungry." The hostess smiled and walked back to the counter.

Nords weren't exactly known for their politeness, but Whiterun had a certain quality that made the Breton feel quite comfortable.

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"I heard Bretons can't hold their mead." Merek laughed as they sat near the fire with the beverages.

"You know me all too well." She joined in rolling her eyes even though he was right. At least about Phynlii. She had never been much for ale or mead.

She poked around at the potato soup as exhaustion finally caught up with her. Merek was off bothering an armor clad Nord woman in the corner. The Breton made her way towards him knowing he had drank a tiny bit too much mead.

"Come on, my Breton friend would make short work of you, lady." Merek cackled. Phynlii grabbed him by the shoulder just in time for her face to be hammered by a steel plated fist. Stumbling back a couple steps confused, the Breton looked up to see an angry Nord woman standing about half a foot taller than she. Phynlii raised one hand to heal, but realized the hit was intentional.

"See she looks great. You didn't kill like her you said," Merek cheered raising his mug.

"Merek, stop talking!" She growled as she dodged the beast woman's second hook landing her own jab to her foe's right eye. By now, the local Nords had taken notice.

Great. Just great. Phynlii sighed at the attention they had drawn.

Phynlii wiped the blood from her nose as she stammered towards the gian. Cheers erupted.

"C'mon! She's a Breton whelp!" Someone called. Typical Nord attitude. She noticed that it was the bard's comment. She made note to put him in his place another time.

"A hundred gold on the Breton!" Merek called out to the crowd. Phynlii kept her cold eyes on the enraged shield-maiden as she studied her Breton foe for an opening.

She finally made her move landing a quick uppercut to the Manmer's stomach knocking the breath out of Phynlii. The Breton was used to a good duel with swords and magicka, but it had been several years since she had been in an actual brawl.

Andastyr always seemed to frown upon it.

Phynlii tried to catch her breath as she dodged her opponent's last swing in which sh overcalculated stumbling in sorts. The foreigner took her shot and her knuckles collided with the hinge of the Nord's jaw. Her opponent as she put her hands out in defeat.

"Now that's what I call a punch. You got me." The woman smiled. Wow, this woman is a beast, Phynlii thought. She jutted her hand towards the Breton. "The name's Uthgerd the Unbroken."

"Phynlii Tarthyk of Jehenna." The Breton announced proudly.

"Never met a tougher Breton. Your friend was right." She grinned. "You've earned my blade. If you eever need a companion in battle, you can find me here."

"That's right! Give me all your gold!" Phynlii heard Merek laughed heartily as all the losing wagers were passed to him. She strutted over towards him slightly beaming.

"I believe I earned this." She smiled grabbing the huge coin purse and left for their room. Plopping on the hay packed bed, she put her hands together healing the slights cuts and scrapes.

Merek plowed through the door with an inebriated grin. "Hey, that's my gold too."

"I don't think so." She returned a smile as he fell to the floor.

"I'll sleep here." He smirked with his eyes shut. Phynlii smiled sympathetically at him.

"Such a gentleman." She patted his head as he lost consciousness. She spotted her knapsack across the room and suddenly remembered that letter from Markarth. She carefully stepped across Merek's limp snoring body and found the note.. She opened in loudly realizing he was long gone until morning.

The note read:

I know what you are, Phynlii, daughhter of Phand. When you are ready meet me at the shrine of Talos in Markarth.

-E.

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"Phynlìi, Phynlii, oh gods!" Merek shook the Manmer's sleeping body awake. She clutched the cover over her eyes.

"Merek. You are half naked." She laughed slightly clenching her eyes shut.

"Oh….I apologize I get heated in my sleep. By the Daedra, you let me get too drunk." She heard him shuffle back into his armor.

"Oh yeah, I let you get drunnk with your gold. And I let you get me in a fight with a giant beast lady!" She spat.

"About that…" He smirked nervously. "Are you okay? I really didn't mean for that to happen."

"I am about a thousand gold good." She winked patting knapsack. "I was even polite enough to share."

"I suppose you deserve part of it." He rolled his eyes.

"What?!" She threw the blanket at him. "That woman was a beast in human form. I could have been mauled to death."

"Says the one excited about dragons. Right. Spare me the dramatics, Breton." He spoke with snark.

"Don't call me that. I have a name." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hush, lady." He laughed.

She stared into the dark green pools gistening down at her. "Why did you decide to help me?"

"Well, you were out in the woods being trailed by two very wanted Forsworn agents." He shrugged. "We just seemed to connect from there."

"I fear I may be something you wish not to accompany." Phynlii grimaced at the thought of the Forsworn blood in her veins."I have something to show you."

She handed him the note from Oblivion knows who. His face twisted in confusion and shock. "You are Phand's daughter? You're-…"

"I swear to the Aedra and Daedra alike, I am not Forsworn. The night you found me is the first time I have seen my father since he abandoned me outside of a sabre cat's lair to die." She quickly tried to amend the negative thoughts that immediately came to Merek's mind. She wiped her delicatel placed war paint off her face to reveal the now obvious scars she often hesitated to show anyone. His fingers softly traced them as the truth settled in his eyes. "I was raised by a wonderful Breton man named Andastyr who killed the sabre cat that did this. Phand sacrificed my mother to the old gods they worship while offering me as a meal to the wild as well. I bear the scars of his betrayal."

"You shouldn't go back to Markarth. The answers you seek will only break your heart." Merek handed the note back. She knew she shouldn't chase this folly, but deep within her heart a fire insisted she must.

"Merek, I appreciate your concern, but this is a path the gods have chosen for me even though I don't want to." She met his eyes "I cannot accompany you to Windhelm. I refuse to put my burden on you."

"Will you promise me one thing?" He asked eyes widened with disappointment.

"Anything, dear friend." The Breton smiled.

"You will find me and put up with my companionship once more. Some day. Maybe, even fight another beast of a woman." He laughed.

"Of course! Promise me, you'll stay safe out there." She hugged him ightly fearing to release his embrace. A promise, in her thoughts, she wasn't sure she could keep to her only friend in Skyrim. "I will remain here in Whiterun until I feel I am ready to face whatever the divines have awaiting me in Markarth."

Andastyr,

Amazing things have taken place these days. I am currently residing in Whiterun; capital city of the central hold in Skyrim. It's a beautiful country. I wish you could have traveled here with me.

I have made a couple Nord friends during my stay here; Uthgerd and Merek. I think you would find them most interesting to say the least. Uthgerd has been kind enough to be my sparring partner to further my combat. I hope to not need to use those skills, but there is a war going on after all. Speaking of war, Merek, the other Nord, is a Stormcloak soldier. He helped me trek from the Reach to Whiterun but he has since left for the fight.

I miss you terribly… May the Eight watch over you, father.

With Love,
Phynlii

It had been several months since Merek had left the Breton to continue his journey to Windhelm. He did send a courier to assure her he had made it safely to the Palace of King's.

It was now the middle of Sun's Height; the warmest month.

Letters to Andastyr had become an every other day routine yet she had received no word from him. He often fell victim to rockjoint which rendered his hands useless. All she hoped is that he was safe.