Dag woke first the next morning and smiled to find her head still on Roggi’s shoulder. Poor man’s arm was going to be numb. He was sound asleep, snoring gently. She had one arm and one leg draped over him, and spent a moment admiring what a contrast her dark skin made against his very pale body. There had almost been no need for a cover, for all the heat he radiated.
Roggi hadn’t given her all that much opportunity to sleep. They had endeavored together with the fervent, intense urgency of two people solitary too long, with needs too great to be postponed a moment longer. They had held each other, afterward, talking quietly, until another sweet kiss had led them into another, gentler, slower exploration that left them both delighted with each other and ready for rest.
She sighed happily. It was altogether too tempting to wake him up for another go by nibbling on his ear, but they really did need to get back on the road.
She slid away from Roggi as gently and quietly as possible and pulled on her clothes, then started down the ramp. Turning to look at him again, she had to smile. She was glad she’d shared a night with her best friend and, better yet, that it had been his first move and not hers. It wasn’t as though she’d never had men approach her before, but only in a … utilitarian way, without any feeling, and simply because she was female. She certainly didn’t think of herself as especially attractive with the big scar on her face. Nobody else had, either, since Coyle, or so it seemed. Roggi had made it seem as though she was the most exquisite thing in the world. It made her happy in ways she hadn’t felt in ages.
As she rummaged around in their things to find something to make for breakfast, an unwelcome thought began dancing around in the back of her mind. Roggi didn’t know the implications of what they’d done in Whiterun. He didn’t know who she was working for, and she hoped to keep it that way because he definitely didn’t like thieves or bandits. Not that she did, either, but she was rather stuck with her current situation. She frowned. He was going to figure it out eventually, especially if he returned to Riften with her; he certainly wasn’t a stupid man, even if he appeared to like playing dumb when the situation called for it. It hadn’t mattered so much when she’d first gone to him with his shield, but it mattered a lot more, now. Maybe the satisfaction of taking out some skooma dealers would soften the blow.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to find Roggi smiling at her, his hair back in a tail, dressed and ready to go. He walked over and kissed the top of her head, then sat down to eat the meager meal she’d pulled together. “Did you sleep well, love?” he asked, munching at some bread.
She grinned at him. “Are you kidding? After yesterday a wolf howling in my ear wouldn’t have kept me awake. Not that it was very long, thank you, but it was sound sleep.”
He laughed, and waggled his eyebrows at her, his eyes twinkling. Then he smiled and said, “thank you.”
“For? Just the obvious?” Dag grinned.
He looked down at her and smiled. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had something to smile about,” he said. “It feels good.”
Dag was about to make some jest but stopped. “It does,” she said, realizing that yes, in fact, she felt more centered, somehow lighter than she had since leaving home. She hadn’t expected to feel that way ever again. Maybe there was some hope that the wounds would eventually heal.
“Listen, Roggi,” she said, glancing at him and hoping his good mood would continue, “I have a proposition for you.”
He smiled, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Another one?”
She grinned. “Yes. Though the last one was yours, as I recall.” He laughed. “I don’t know how much of a hurry you are in to get back to Kynesgrove.”
“Not much,” he said, smiling. “Why do you ask?”
“Well I know it’s a bit out of our way given that we were heading straight to Riften and all, but I need some help taking on a little problem. Potentially a big problem. While I was in Riften I stumbled over a skooma operation and the Jarl asked me to take care of the headquarters.”
“The Jarl herself? That must be quite the tale!”
Dag nodded, explaining the circumstances of meeting Wujeeta and getting herself involved in the issue. “I saw too many people lose everything to skooma. Some…important people, to me.” She frowned. Every time she tried to talk about them, the pain came way too close to the surface. She cleared her throat and met his eyes. “It wasn’t even a decision to make, in my mind. But then I came this close to dying fighting Sarthis. If not for that, I never would have realized how much I needed your help.”
”Of course. I’ll be happy to help any way I can. The more bandits we remove from Skyrim the better, as far as I’m concerned.” He took another bite of bread and said around it, “Really, the mine will be there when I return, and maybe Kjeld can get his son off his lazy behind while I’m gone. Kjeld and I do all the work in there. The others are just pretending. Young Kjeld is a big strapping lad who ought to pull his own weight. Besides,” he smiled at her, “I’m in no rush to part from my current company.”
Dag smiled back. “Nor I,” she said. In fact, she thought, I could happily spend a week or so just playing amongst the bedrolls with you. “However,” she continued with a sigh, “we will need not to linger. The people I’m working for in Riften are not likely to take the waiting well.”
Roggi frowned a bit, pondering, then nodded. “Well then. Let’s get going.”
The road east from Nilheim was steep, and downhill. They were surprised to find that the bandit’s overturned cart actually was abandoned along the road, a good way down, with vegetable sacks and a trail of odd potatoes and cabbages behind it. “Amazing,” Dag said, shaking her head. “He went to the bother of tipping over a cart.”
“It would make an impression on people coming up the hill,” Roggi agreed. “He won’t be impressing anyone from now on, though.”
“Bears or saber cats, maybe,” Dag said. “Free lunch.” Roggi shot her a look and rolled his eyes.
As they strolled along, Dag was surprised to hear Roggi humming, a pleasant sound and a tune that seemed familiar somehow. “What’s that song?”
Roggi smiled and started singing, his voice a mellow, honeyed baritone that she could easily have listened to all day. “There once was a woman as fair as an evening in springtime on old Stros M’Kai….”
Dag grinned. “You know that one, eh?”
“I’ve known it all my life, but never so well as I do now,” he said, smiling at her.
Dag blushed. She was glad that her blushes didn’t show very well. Her thoughts started tumbling. What am I going to do with you, Roggi? Her small voice whispered to her: Whatever you both like and for as long as you care to do it. I suppose so, she answered herself. That was, after all, how she’d lived her life so far.
The road hugged the northern rim of the Rift’s plateau, above the volcanic tundra below. It was an amazing, panoramic view, off to their left, at the places where the road was particularly close to the cliff face.
Dag stopped at one of these spots to catch her breath and enjoy the breeze. “Look at that view,” she breathed. “I’ll bet on a really clear day you could almost see all the way to Wind-“
Suddenly she was stumbling off to her right, a searing pain erupting from her left thigh. She scrambled to her feet, fumbling for her swords. She was off-balance, but she could feel the rush of air from the figure near her, too near, trying another attack but missing by a whisper. Roggi rushed in behind the assailant, screaming, with his sword drawn. The attacker turned to face him. Dag could see sharp, curved daggers slashing a whirling attack at him, and then heard a cry of pain and saw a red line open across Roggi’s chest, under his raised arms.
“No!” Dag ignored the pain in her leg and attacked with everything she had, thanking the Eight that the scimitars were so sharp and that she knew how to use them. Even so, the slight figure in red and black leathers had bought a moment by wounding Roggi, and he matched her move for move. He’s going to kill me, she thought. I can’t get him, I can’t move fast enough, he’s going to – And then the man’s eyes opened in surprise as the point of Roggi’s greatsword slid out through his chest. He slumped. Roggi dumped him onto the ground.
“Quick, let me see that,” Dag said, placing her hands on Roggi’s ribcage and casting a healing spell.
He stood for just a moment with eyes closed, breathing deeply, then opened them and shook his head. “I’m fine, now,” he protested. “It surprised me, but it’s not a deep cut. See to that leg.”
Dag looked down at herself. In the adrenaline of the moment she’d forgotten about herself, but now it was starting to hurt badly. Blood was running down the outside of her pants. “Dammit.” She sat and turned her attention to the wound. It was deep, but not as bad as the arrow wound from the necromancer outside Whiterun had been. “It’ll be ok in a few minutes,” she said to Roggi. “Who in Oblivion was that guy? And how in the world did he come from just out of nowhere like that?”
Roggi’s face was as dark as a storm off the Sea of Ghosts. “I hope I’m wrong about my guess,” he growled, reaching down to check the dead Argonian’s pockets. “There’s a note here.” He read for a moment, then went pale and looked up at Dagnell.
“Dark Brotherhood. Why would someone want you killed?”
Dag’s heart froze. She’d never encountered such a thing before but she knew about the guild of assassins. They didn’t stop until they had eliminated their target. Now she was in deep trouble. “An assassin? Really? I don’t know. I can’t think of anything I’ve done that would..” But as she trailed off she wondered. Sabjorn’s contacts? Maven? No, that didn’t make sense; he was in Whiterun’s prison and Mallus was happy about it. Did Aringoth’s people send someone after her? The silent partner, maybe? That was the only thing she could come up with. She was going to have to come clean with Roggi sooner or later. Maybe she could ease into it.
“I… I suspect it has something to do with the errand we did in Whiterun.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s about the people who asked me to do the errand. I told you true, I’m not sure why it had to be me and not someone who was already in Whiterun, but what I do know is that there are layers of things going on that I don’t begin to understand. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you more, if I’m able to, after I check in back in town.”
He was quiet for a moment, but Dag could see his thoughts dancing across his face and knew where they were going. “Hmm. There are some bad people in Riften.”
I’m so sorry, Dag thought, looking at the suspicion on his face. “Yeah, there are, and I fear somehow we – I – have gotten on the wrong side of some of them.” Dag’s mind was racing. She had to salvage this situation somehow but she didn’t know whether it was even possible. She stood, dusted her pants off, and tried hard to smile.
“There are some really nice people in Riften, too, though,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and probably failing. “Truly. Balimund, for example. He’s the blacksmith. I like him a lot and I’ll bet you will too.” Roggi was still frowning. She was trying too hard, and she knew it, but she had to set things right. “Oh and the Jarl. I think you’ll like her as well. She’s very, well, noble.” She laughed. “Yeah, that was dumb. Anyway, she says if I can get rid of the skooma dealers I’ll be, oh how did she put it, on my way to a title in Riften.” I’m babbling, she thought. But I can’t stand it if Roggi loses faith in me. He’s … important.
His mouth dropped open for a moment. “A Thane? Really?”
“Really. I’m pretty amazed. All I wanted was to get rid of the dealers.” She stopped, grinding her teeth yet again, her voice threatening to catch. Roggi reached out and touched her arm, and she smiled at him, nodding.
“But yeah, if I do, you can say you’re best friends with a Thane, how’s that?”
“I’m impressed, love. That’s really something.”
Dag looked at his face, the bright blue of his eyes, and a wisp of a thought that had been dancing about in the back of her mind suddenly became solid. There it was again. “Love.” Roggi truly cared about her. That was beginning to be clear. The previous night hadn’t just been a playful whim for him. She wasn’t sure it really had been just a whim for her, either. She had no idea what she was going to do about it.
They continued along the road, quietly keeping a more wary eye out than they had before in case there was more than one assassin. They stopped for a quick lunch as the road began to rise again, back up the eastern side of the escarpment. She watched Roggi eating, his mind clearly a million miles away. She hadn’t expected anyone to care about her again, really, after Coyle, and her stomach was doing flips just thinking about it. I don’t want to give him reason to hate me, she thought. I wonder if I’ve already mucked it up. And now I sound like Brynjolf.
Not too much farther, the road converged with another one that doubled back in a steep switchback. “I remember this spot,” she said. “We’re not too far from the path that takes a shortcut through to Riften. I think that’s where we have to go.”
Roggi nodded. “I know the place. We’ll need to be really careful; there are a few caves up there and an old ruin, and who knows how many bandits or thieves might be holed up in them.” She shot a sideways look at him. His face was grim.