With Friends Like These

Chapter Three

The ride back to Solitude was even colder, her coat was unsalvageable. But the septims she looted from the Khajiits would prove useful in providing a replacement.

"Fihada?" Korrin called as she walked into the Fletcher once more. He appeared from behind the counter, going from pale-faced to a beaming smile.

"You did it! You did it, right?" He looked between them warily.

"The deed is done; the souls of the thieves are now together in the void." She answered humbly. The man laughed triumphantly.

"They- they stole so much of my merchandise, but I still had a secret store of materials in the back from when the war was raging on! I tinkered a little and put together this crossbow that. . . well. . . nevermind! The details are unimportant! Anyway, I sold the blueprint to the Imperial legion for a nice sum, so here. Your payment!" Fihada set a rather full coin sack on top of the counter with a smile. "Thank you so much, my business will be thriving again. Jawanan can stop being a- a milk drinker- and get materials from the mill again!"

She picked up the coins and tied the strings of the sack to a loop on her belt. "Do pray again sometime." She said teasingly as they turned to leave. As she reached the door, she turned to Fihada once more. "Oh, by the way. . . the thieves burned down the Sawmill. You should probably inform the guards about that."

---

"You should have seen the look on his face, ahaha!" Cicero laughed as he recounted the contract to the others.

"You two get all the fun! I want a contract, too!" Babette crossed her arms as they sat around at the table.

"Nazir, are you not seeking out the rumors anymore?" Korrin asked as she stirred the cooking pot.

"No, the Night Mother has it covered now. We're up and running at full speed, it's just been you two handling all of the contracts. But I am growing tired of my vacation lately." Nazir sighed.

"Not to complain, Listener, but we haven't been on a single contract in over a week." Said the new recruit, Brastar. A Breton with long brown hair, brown eyes, and a moustache he kept in pristine condition. The other recruit, Valin, nodded in agreement. Valin was a tall Dunmer with black hair pulled back into a bun, a goatee, and fully red eyes.

"Yes. . . I apologize, I guess I just got caught up in the momentum of my own power." Korrin admitted as she served herself a bowl of venison stew with bread. "Dinner's ready."

Once they were all served and seated once more, they chatted amongst themselves. It almost reminded Korrin of how it had been when Astrid ran the Sanctuary. When Gabriella and Babette would make potions together, Festus would complain about food made by anyone except himself, Anrbjorn got more of it in his beard than his mouth. Despite the flaws in certain peoples' characters and the dysfunction, Korrin sort of missed it. She didn't know the new recruits, and the size of the "family" was a bit smaller than before. Maybe a few more recruits, after the others had been on a few more contracts, would prove beneficial. Perhaps it was time for Korrin to step away from taking contracts herself and focus on building up the Brotherhood instead.

"You've been quiet, Listener." Cicero looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, I'm just thinking." She brushed it off with a smile.

After dinner she decided to wash off. Snow, sweat, and dirt had soaked through her clothes and hair. Once she'd removed her armor, she realized the bear had, in fact, left a mark on her. The entire left side of her torso was bruised. It wasn't until she really looked at it that she started to notice the pain. Looking at herself in the mirror, she really began to wonder if she should withdraw now. Twenty-Seven years old, still young, especially for an elf. She wondered what had driven her to join the Brotherhood in the first place. She knew why she killed Grelod, but she could have declined Astrid's invitation. She was the Dragonborn, a goody two-shoes, follower of society's rules, savior of Skyrim.