The Cure For Curie (Complete!)

Panic Rising

Lilelle had left her group in the Great Plains just outside Whiterun to wait for her return. She had thought it would be quicker to slip in and out of Breezehome alone. Wanting to draw as little attention to herself, if she was to be walking out with something as treasured as an Elder Scroll.

She didn't even have a well formed plan yet. There was no thought beyond grabbing the scroll. She worried that she would be dead by week's end. It was unheard of to use the scroll to travel that far back in time. She wasn't even sure she would be able to bring something back with her. All the impossible questions had begun piling up on her. She stood firm in her belief that they had to try.

This woman that she was hoping to cure was on the brink of tearing this world apart. A creature with untold power could not be left unchecked. If Lilelle could solve this problem with little bloodshed, than she would do whatever was necessary. She took a deep cleansing breath before pushing open her front door.

"Well hello lass, I would be lying if I said I expected you to come home."

"Brynjolf." She said flatly. "Why are you in my home? I thought you hadn't need to resort to petty thievery, after I saved the Thieves Guild and all."

"Ha. Yes. The Guild is doing very well thanks to you. At least it was anyway." The red haired Nord winced in pain.

"I'd love to hear your troubles but I am facing much bigger ones of my own." She said as she pulled a healing potion from a cupboard and tossed it in his lap.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with a raven haired broad, now would it?" He asked as he pulled the cork stopper from the red bottle. His foot looked mangled inside his boot, but the potion would fix the wound quickly.

"As a matter of fact, it does." She answered, crossing her arms. She fixed her red eyes on him. "What happened to your foot, Brynjolf?"

"I caught it in one of those damn bear traps down in the Rat Way. That woman your after started a fire in Riften. As far as I know, only a few of the Thieves Guild managed to escape."

"The whole town?" She was in shock, Lilelle couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What about Honorhall? Those poor children."

"Honorhall is fine. After that Grelod turned up dead, they moved it on to a stretch of land on the outskirts of town. Everyone else though, in the city, was not so lucky."

"I can't believe this. There are no other survivors?"

"Just Karliah and a few others managed to make it out. We were in the vault when it happened. The fires couldn't reach beyond the door. I have a scout watching what's left of the city but it doesn't look good."

"What does that mean?"

"They are organizing inside the Temple of Mara."

"They? What do you mean they?"

"That tough lass seems to have convinced the priests of Mara that they are on the same side. Couriers have been in and out of there in packs to send word to the other temples."

"Shit." Lilelle said as she moved to grab a leather pack from a cupboard. "We have to go. Now."

"We?" Brynjolf asked as he tested his weight on his newly healed foot.

"You're coming with me. It'll be safer for you in the camp outside of Whiterun. I could use your help."

"While the offer is tempting, I'll be fine on my own."

"You owe me. Besides, things are about to get very interesting." She winked as she whispered words of magic toward an empty shelf. The air seemed to shimmer as the magic around it evaporated. A golden scroll lay nestled on the wooden ledge, glittering in the firelight.

"If that's what I think it is lass, you've never been righter."

"Let's go." She said as she stuffed the scroll in her bag.

Once the pair had made their way outside, they moved straight for the gates. They kept their heads down and hoods up, so as not to be bothered. A hand grabbed Lilelle's arm just as she passed in front of Warmaiden's, the blacksmith.

"I thought that was you." A blonde Nord woman greeted. Lilelle recognized her and her face paint but couldn't remember her name. "I had hoped to make my way to Windhelm during my travels but it seems fate has found you sooner."

"I'm terribly sorry but my friend and I are in a bit of a hurry. If you request my aid, send a message to my court in Windhelm." Lilelle said, keeping her tone friendly but firm.

"I'm afraid it's more urgent than writing a letter." The warrior woman said as she shook her head.

"Watch out lass, she's a convert." Brynjolf whispered.

"Just as well." Lilelle addressed the warrior as she slipped her fingers around a dagger under her cloak. "My business is most pressing. I assure you that you will receive aid as quickly as possible.."

"No!" The woman shouted as she grabbed for Lilelle. The dragonborn ducked from her reach, knocking into Brynjolf, tossing his hood from his face. "You!?"

"Now, now Mjoll. Let's not make a fuss." Brynjolf pleaded as he raised his hands.

"The Mother was right." She said as she drew her steel longsword. "All I needed was patience and here you are."

"There will be no bloodshed here." Lilelle said as she stepped between them. She waved over some of the guards that were leaving the garrison behind them.

"What seems to be the trouble, Jarl?" One of the men said.

"This woman here is threatening my friend. See that she spends a night a cell."

"At once." The guard answered as he saluted with a fist to his chest.

Lilelle watched the guards surround Mjoll, demanding she sheath her weapon. As the crashing of steel rang out in the air, she grabbed Brynjolf and bolted toward the gate. She hoped the commotion would help them lose the warrior. She heard the cries of anger and of pain as a battle  broke out behind them. Gasps of shock and horror filled her ears, too afraid to look, as she slipped through the large wood gates. She had bigger problems now.