Chapter Text
The iron collar was tight and chafing around Aria’s neck while the chains swung low around her. It dug into her jaw while digging into her collarbones. She could hear the Jarl speaking to Lucien as she was dragged past, towards the marketplace. They were taking the scenic route through the city.
“Now, you're coming with us to the keep, son, and telling us everything you know.” She’d heard Igmund snap to Lucien once his barrage of guards passed with their new prisoner.
The guards rattled the chains, dragging them on the ground or pulling on them. The citizens of Markarth were turning in for the night as she was paraded past. Aria could feel their stares burning into her as she was pulled along. Her eyes were lowered to the ground and her head was hung low. She didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes. Multiple acquaintances Aria were watching as well. Their eyes were wide, mouths agape or muttering to the closest person around them. Some whispers rippled through the watching crowds, as well as some insults or curses. Her captors were slow to reach the mine, making sure they made a show of Aria’s arrest like a hunter showed off a kill.
The two guards standing at their post at the mine’s entrance nodded approvingly to their colleagues when Aria was brought before them. She was ushered into the mine. The guards bearing her chains presented her to the prison’s warden, Urzoga gra-Shugurz. The Orsimer woman had a permanent sneer on her face. Her voice was always impatient and stern. Aria wondered if Urzoga would recognize her after all this time.
The chains were dropped from her wrists and the collar around her neck released its hold on her. She wasn’t given time to inspect her grazed skin before she was being ordered again. Aria was given scarce privacy when she was commanded to change into her prison garb. She was only given a seedy tunic and pair of equally unbecoming trousers. Her belongings were snatched from her and packed away into another room. The guards were likely fighting over her possessions by now. Once Aria was stripped of her things and had changed into her new attire, she was herded into a channel where Urzoga was waiting.
"All right, prisoner. Eyes front. You're in Cidhna Mine, now. And we expect you to earn your keep. There's no resting your hide in a cell in this prison. Here, you work. You'll mine ore until you start throwing up silver bars. You got it?" Urzoga conducted.
Aria knew better than to argue in that place.
“Got it, ma'am.” She rasped.
Aria’s head was slightly bowed to avoid provoking the warden.
“Good.”
Urzoga stepped behind Aria and grabbed her aching wrists again, pushing her forwards to the metal door that led down into the mine.
“All right. Open her up. Now, you. Get down there.” Urzoga ordered again after giving Aria a shove.
She hastily glanced back at her.
“When do I get out?” She asked earnestly.
She needed to make sure Lucien was alright.
"You won't. The Jarl has ordered a life sentence for you. Get comfortable in the dark, 'cause you'll never see the sun again." Urzoga answered stiffly.
Aria spun to argue this time but the slamming of the metal door separating her from her freedom killed whatever words she was about to say. Urzoga marched away and Aria was left alone on the wooden platform that overlooked the main chamber of the mine. After a few seconds of dreaded quiet, Aria slowly turned away and descended down the steps to where a few other prisoners sat around a small fire.
"What are you in for, new blood?" One of them asked once Aria apporached.
Aria looked down at the man who’d asked her. He only wore a pair of ragged trousers with his hair haphazardly tied behind his back. Another Breton, he looked like. He was frightfully thin, with his eyes sinking into his skull and his ribs poking through his flesh with each breath he took.
“Murder.” Aria said blankly.
The Breton’s eyes widened slightly, almost lighting up at her answer.
"Violent one, huh? Best keep that to yourself, new blood. Others find out, they'll consider that a challenge. My advice? Serve your time at the pickaxe and get out. You don't want to end up getting a shiv in the guts over a bottle of Skooma."
“A shiv?” Aria echoed.
The man nodded.
"Small blade. Easy to hide. I mean, sure, you could just swing a pickaxe into someone's face, but people tend to see that coming. Got a problem with a prisoner? Get a shiv. Hear Grisvar has a spare, if you could get him to part with it.”
Right. Good to know, Aria thought.
“Skooma?” She repeated.
"Bottles of Moon Sugar. Khajiit use it as a... pick me up. Good way to pass the time. Prisoners smuggle the stuff in. Only currency we have down here."
“What are you in for?” She asked him, growing more curious.
“A Nord nobleman I served was stabbed in the night. Wasn't me, but I knew I'd be blamed. So I ran. Joined the Forsworn. Started killing. Got caught. Now I'm here."
“Why'd you join the Forsworn?” She continued.
"Because life was better under the old ways. No Nords and their laws. One day, the Forsworn will paint the walls of Markarth in your kinsmen's blood. Best you not be there on that day, Nord.” He replied.
His tone was matter-of-fact, but his little declaration made Aria take a step or two further back.
“Where are the guards?” She inquired.
Aria had seldom looked around the room again until now, noticing it was only her and the other prisoners in this place.
"They come in here once a week to clean out the bodies, grab any ore we've mined, and beat down the troublemakers. That's the only time when we get food, too. And if there's not enough ore mined up, we don't get any."
She faintly shivered at the recollection of not even being able to eat down there. Some of the memories flashed in her head the longer she looked around. Some of them were ones she’d rather let die.
“Where's Madanach?” Aria scrutinized the room between her questions.
Barring off one of the tunnels leading further within the mine, was another metal door. Locked. As it always had been since she last saw it.
"If you're asking, that means you're the new lifer. Tough luck, friend. Those guards sold you out but good. No one talks to Madanach, I'm afraid. Not without getting past Borkul the Beast. And you don't want to talk to Borkul the Beast."
So that’s what it was for, Aria thought.
“Borkul the Beast?” She repeated.
The Breton nodded again and pointed over to where an Orsimer stood guard near the metal door.
"Madanach's guard. Big, even for an Orc. Heard he ripped a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old-fashioned like that."
That’s right. Him.
Aria quietly recalled him again. His face was painted in pale streaks with his hair pulled back as well. Covering his forearms were some dingy iron gauntlets. A pickaxe rested through a loop on the waistband of his trousers. He had his arms crossed and his eyes scanned to and from Madanach’s door and the rest of the chamber. Borkul remained at his post and only watched some of the other prisoners come and go. A few familiar faces were still rotting down there, but a good handful were fresh meat. Same as her, to an extent. As they passed, she was given shifty glances. Being locked up was bad enough, but being a Nord in Cidhna Mine, surrounded by Forsworn toadies, was even worse. Even with the Voice, using it in that place would only get her put down like an animal. Aria would need more than a pickaxe to protect herself.
Aria padded through the tunnels, listening to the clinking of pickaxes against the stone or some of the other prisoners talking amongst themselves. She was searching for Grisvar the Unlucky to ask if he had a shiv he could part with. As per Uraccen’s advice, she’d need one sooner or later. Luckily, other prisoners weren’t difficult to track down as so many of the tunnels had been blocked off once their ore deposits had been exploited.
Seeing another Nord within Cidhna Mine surprised her. She’d expected all the other inmates to be Breton, besides Borkul. Just about every member of the Forsworn was. But Grisvar had the same complexion on his face as anyone from Skyrim would have. Grisvar gazed over at her as she neared him. His face was equally choleric as Borkul’s, and anyone else there.
“I need a shiv.” Aria asked firmly.
Grisvar only blinked at her for a second.
"Ah, you want protection? I can get you what you need. Maybe you can do something for me, first? Duach has a bottle of Skooma. Finest distilled Moon Sugar. I'm getting shakes just thinking about it." He answered.
Aria wanted to huff at his request but that wouldn’t make things any easier for her.
“I'll get it for you.” She said.
"Thank you, friend. Don't worry. I'll have that shiv ready for you." He replied anxiously.
Aria left him alone and made her way back though the central chamber, down the opposite tunnel. A few others were mining while there was one standing further away. Her footsteps alerted him and he hastily lifted his head.
"Other prisoners get suspicious when we talk to each other, so keep it down." Duach grumbled.
“I hear you have some skooma.” Aria began.
Duach immediately tensed and glared back at her.
“You give me one more look, and I cut you open. That skooma’s mine!” He retorted defensively.
Duach leaned away standoffishly and slightly turned a shoulder towards her as if she would try to snatch it from him. He was just the same as he had been before. Meanwhile she was just as inquisitive as before. Aria recalled what little conversation they had once had.
“How long have you been here?” She had asked.
“Year seven, I think? Surprised I haven't cut my own throat out by now, but something keeps me going." He responded absently.
“What are you in for?” Aria had continued.
"I'm a Forsworn. One of our raids went bad, and I got captured. Would've been fine dying for the Reach with my kinsmen, but the Silver-Bloods want their ore mined, so they threw me in here." Duach said in a sour tone.
Back then, his snide comments had never eased Aria’s mind, either.
“Whenever I get out of here, I’m going to go kill a Nord.”
Aria had only stared back at him once she’d realized what he said. After that, she made a point to keep her distance from him, as well as the other prisoners. Until this moment.
“I need some. Badly.” She coaxed gently.
In truth, she had never used the stuff, but she would need it more for bribing the other prisoners. Duach gave her one more glare before his tense body lessened and he turned back around with a light sigh. In his trousers, he dug out a small bottle of the poison and passed it to Aria.
“Getting the shakes, huh? All right. Take it. Old gods keep you.” Duach complied with her plea.
Aria nodded approvingly to him before stepping away and returning to Grisvar. The old Nord was busy knelt over while sharpening a small piece of metal against another rock. Once he was pleased with the edge, he fastened a shred of cloth around the handle and tied it around the metal hilt. Grisvar was still inspecting the tool when Aria returned. The crunching of the loose gravel and dirt made him jump but he was quickly soothed when he saw the shiny bottle in Aria’s hand.
“I have your skooma.” She announced to him.
He rose to his feet and Aria placed the skooma in his outstretched hand. Grisvar lightly dipped his head in thanks. After stowing the skooma away for himself, he held out the object for Aria in return.
“Here’s your shiv. Promise you won’t ever use it on me, okay?” Grisvar implored.
“Right.” Aria mumbled in response.
She delicately hid the shiv in her trousers, trying to avoid jabbing herself in the thigh. Once she returned to the room where Borkul stood guard, she forced herself to approach him. Even with his being much taller than her, she still tried to stretch her legs to appear less meek.
"The new meat. So soft. Tender. What was it like killing your first one, huh?" Borkul implored, eyeing her up and down.
“Exciting. I felt the rush of blood... and smiled.” Aria said almost mockingly.
Borkul evidently didn’t notice the hint of sarcasm in her tone as he only smiled in response.
"A true killer, like me. The gods put us here to fill their halls with souls. You'll fit in fine down here." Borkul beamed at her.
Aria knew from overhearing other prisoners about Borkul the Beast. Once the leader of a gang of bandits, he had later joined the Forsworn. They were considered ‘real’ killers, in his eyes. The Orc had been stuck there for around twelve years by then, after being arrested for so many things Aria could hardly count on one hand. His crimes consisted of murder, banditry, assault, theft, and lollygagging. Apparently the guards were serious about that last one.
“I need to see Madanach.” She addressed him once he’d made his formality.
"You want to talk to the King in Rags? Fine. But first you got to pay the toll. How about you get me a shiv? Not that I need one, but it's nice to have in case I need to do some "shaving." Ha ha." Borkul ran a hand along his already-smooth face.
“Madanach is expecting me.” Aria insisted.
"Hmph. Fine. Go on in. But don't try anything in there. Madanach knows more than you think."
She was forever thankful that at least her silver tongue could not be locked up. Borkul eyed her carefully again before pulling a key from his pants and inserting it into the keyhole of Madanach’s door. It swung open, creaking in protest. Aria shuffled through, noting one of the shorter routes, a foul tunnel with a simple bucket inside, and another with some dried bones inside. To the right, was another sealed tunnel with an iron door closing it away from her. She squinted her eyes to see past the bars. Dwemer architecture faintly loomed past the gate. At the end of the tunnel, Aria peeked past the corner and saw a gnarled, wizened Breton hunched over in his chair. The quill in his hand was scrawling over his parchment. Once she had neared him, he gave her a half-hearted smile. Aria slightly narrowed her eyes in response to his leering gaze.
"Well, well. Look at you. Your kinsmen have turned you into an animal, Nord. A wild beast caged up and left to go mad. So, my fellow beast, what do you want? Answers about the Forsworn? Revenge for trying to have you killed?" He beamed somewhat tauntingly.
Madanach.
Revenge sounded more like it. Aria wanted to dig her nails into his dirtied flesh and pummel him into the grimy soil, but she had more civility than the Forsworn and the apparent kinsmen he was referring to.
“I want my freedom.” She jeered.
Madanach chuckled lightly and turned back to his parchment.
"Your freedom? Yes. But even if you were to escape Cidhna Mine, your name would still be stained with all that blood." He insisted.
“You have a lot to answer for.” Aria snapped.
Madanach lowered his quill and glared back at her with vile eyes.
"Do I? And what about you? What right did you have to meddle in my affairs? Kill my people? Was it worth it? Your truth? You're one of us now, you see? A slave. The boot of your kinsmen stepping on your throat. Maybe if you understood that, I could help you."
He drew out the ‘slave’ part, making Aria set her jaw while she looked down at him.
“I don't need, or want, your help.” She assured him.
"So many say that, at first, until they realize the truth. If you change your mind, speak to Braig. Tell him I sent you. I want you to know how widespread the injustice of Markarth is." Madanach sniffed.
Aria pondered for a moment. While Madanach was still writing, she lingered in his presence.
“I want to know about Thonar.” She blurted out.
"I had Markarth. My men and I drove the Nords out. We had won, or so we thought. Retribution was swift. I was captured, quickly tried, and sentenced to death. But my execution never came. Thonar Silver-Blood stopped it. He wanted the Forsworn at his call, that I would point their rage at his enemies and spare his allies. And I have. Humiliating at first, but I knew he would let his guard down eventually. That he would come to trust I was under control."
So he really was behind the attack in the marketplace, Aria thought bitterly. She had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt before even meeting him, but her and Lucien’s interaction with him and Madanach’s proving so himself dispelled any last doubts.
“I had questions about the Forsworn.” Aria continued.
"This was our land. We were here first. Then the Nords came and put chains on us. Forbid us from worshipping our gods. Some of us refused to bow. We knew the old ways would lead us back to having a kingdom of our own. That is who we are. The Forsworn. Criminals in our own lands. And we will cut a bloody hole into the Reach until we are free."
Criminals who tend to spill blood should not be free, Aria thought.
Instead of saying so aloud, she only took her leave. Madanach was left alone in his chambers while Aria returned to the main chamber, overhearing what Borkul was saying to another prisoner.
"Prison's not so bad. Less complaints when I kill people." He beamed.
Aria discreetly rolled her eyes at his comment before scurrying away into one of the other tunnels. While she didn’t want to comply with Madanach’s request, curiosity was biting at her. Thankfully, none of the prisoners were very far in the mine. Braig was leaning over a cluster of ore veins with his pickaxe swinging steadily.
"What do you want? Have digging to do." He grumbled without looking over.
“Madanach asked me to hear your story.” She replied, ignoring his tone.
Braig straightened up and looked back at her skeptically.
"My story, huh? Everyone in Cidhna Mine has a tale. Let's hear yours first. When was the first time you felt chains around your wrists?" He inquired.
“It was at Helgen. I was being sent to the executioner.” Aria answered.
While she would oftentimes rather keep such information to herself, it was doubtful he would be sharing it with anyone else anytime soon. But the mere mention of Helgen brought the scent of smoke and the deafening screams back into her mind all over again.
"So you know what it's like to have your life in someone else's hands. Why should they get to decide? Isn't judgment for the gods?" Braig pulled her from her tragic thoughts.
Braig was partly right. When Aria had been first and last sentenced, she was never tried. Instead, she was sent to an already-bloodied chopping block without so much as a word or second glance.
"Do you have any family? Anyone waiting for you on the outside?" Braig suddenly asked her.
“Yes, but they're… far from Skyrim.” She said, bluffing to his face.
It wasn’t a full-on lie, however. They were far from Skyrim. Very far. However, she was only praying Lucien had listened to her and had returned home, leaving her and Markarth behind.
"I had a daughter, once. She'd be 23 this year. Married to some hot-headed silver worker or maybe on her own learning the herb trade. The Nords didn't care who was and who wasn't involved in the Forsworn Uprising. I had spoken to Madanach once, that was enough. But my little Aethra didn't want to see her papa leave her. She pleaded to the Jarl to take her instead. And after they made me watch as her head rolled off the block, they threw me in here anyway, to dig up their silver." Braig’s voice faltered as he recalled the story, certainly not for the first time.
“I'm sorry to hear what happened to you.” Aria noted somberly.
Braig quickly snapped his gaze back to her with his brows knit.
"My daughter is the one who needs your pity. I'm just a poor Forsworn whose only regret is not killing more Nords before I was locked up." He hastily retorted.
So much for feeling any sympathy, Aria thought to herself.
“You think your story justifies the murders the Forsworn committed?” Aria retorted back after faintly recoiling at his change in tone.
"I'm not Madanach. I was never a leader of the Forsworn. The only anger I can justify is my own. But every family in the Reach has a story like mine. There are no innocent onlookers in this struggle. Just the guilty, and the dead." Braig growled.
At least he was willing to claim accountability for himself. Once Braig turned back to his digging, he gave her another glare. Aria wisely left him to his work and trudged back through the tunnels. Madanach was still in his room.
“I talked to Braig.” Aria reported.
Madanach glanced over at her.
"Imagine hearing a story like that, over and over. Each time a different family. Each time a different injustice. Your meddling above ground reminded me of how removed I've been from the struggle. My men and I should be in the hills, fighting." He began.
“Spare me from your speeches.” Aria swiftly exclaimed.
Madanach gave her a hearty chuckle.
"You know, I'm almost beginning to like you, but you haven't earned your place out of here yet."
Madanach rose from his chair, wagging a finger at her. He pointed his finger in the direction of the entrance to his chamber.
"Have you met Grisvar the Unlucky? He's rightly named, and he's also a thief and a snitch. He's outlived his minor usefulness. Take care of him, and then we can leave Cidhna Mine for good."
“Why should Grisvar die? Hasn't there been enough bloodshed?” Aria growled.
“Grisvar has been in and out of Cidhna Mine before receiving his life sentence. He could have very well been feeding information to our enemies, and hindering our work! Either kill him, prove yourself to me or do not, and continue your existence rotting in this place… sweetie.” Madanach said in almost a hum.
Aria felt bile begin to rise in her throat when Madanach flashed her a yellowing smile before seating himself down again. She hurriedly walked out.
Who was he to talk of injustice now? The ‘King in Rags’, with his pelted bed atop a wooden loft, and a candlelit table with bottled wine. Even imprisoned, he had luxuries amongst the prisoners. She left his chambers, aggrieved. The shiv she had acquired before was still fastened to the belt of her trousers, but she didn’t want to kill. Not there, not for the Forsworn or for Madanach. All she could do was dig, so she simply took up a pickaxe lying in the dirt and steeled it in her hands. Then brought it down, into the rock. Then again, and again, until ore was siphoned from the rock. Some of the prisoners had continued their mining. Others only watched Aria mine, while others only stood around and stared vacantly. She hadn’t seen Madanach emerge from his room since she last spoke to him. Borkul only stood guard at the locked door again.
Some time after she began mining, she heard the swinging of a door nearby and looked up from her task. Her eyes flew to Madanach’s door, expecting to see him slinking out. But his door was still sealed tight. A few of the other prisoners collected below the wooden platform that led into the mine from where the guards were. Aria squinted to see past the men. She saw the gate where the prisoners were sent down and the guards entered was now open. Guards began to file in, weapons already drawn. They descended the ramp. Each of us were given scornful glares as they herded us away while they searched the tunnels. Aria and the other prisoners all watched in tense silence while the guards collected every chunk of silver ore mined. It was all piled into a few burlap sacks and hauled away through the door leading out. Once they had collected all they could find, Urzoga gra-Shugurz stood watch over them all. With all her guards leaving a few minutes later, she gave a single nod to the guards behind her. A few seconds later, they began throwing something over the wooden railing. The men began clamoring and bolting over. The guards were throwing food down to them.
Aria remained at a distance while the men trampled and fought for what little scraps they were given. Borkul was lashing at another one of the prisoners over a half-molded loaf of bread while others were tackling one another for discolored potatoes, apples, or tomatoes. The guards above them all watched in mild amusement at the prisoners bludgeoning for refuse. Aria chose not to partake in the scuffle. Not long after the infighting began, they all scattered timidly when the creaking of another door pierced their clamor. They shriveled away when Madanach slunk from his chambers towards the meager pile of food. The rest of his Forsworn shrunk away while he picked through what they had fearfully dropped. Once he selected what he wanted, he padded away without a word and just an indifferent expression. Madanach returned to his room and the rest were left to pick up the crumbs. The prisoners all ate what they could before it could be taken from them and hurried away.
Aria examined the ground once they cleared out. Not even a morsel was left. Her stomach was quietly growling but she could only continue to mine to distract herself from her dizzying thoughts. She needed to get out of there, but Madanach surely would not help her without her spilling blood for him. None of the others would be willing to help her either. All she could do was dig up silver while her energy was being sapped. The growing hunger and echoing clinking of pickaxes breaking rock was maddening all over again. Her pickaxe was held firmly in her now trembling grasp as she turned to Madananch’s chambers. Borkul opened the gate for her once more after giving her another cursory glance. She padded through, giving the locked gate to her right a long gaze before entering the bedroom. Madanach looked over his shoulder and gave her an outwardly warm smile before looking back to his parchment.
“So, my dear, will it be done, then? Grisvar has long since outlasted his usefulness to me…” Madanach prated.
Aria bit her lip before answering, pondering. The pickaxe was now secured on her waist, above her shiv.
“Grisvar’s days are still numbered, Madanach. You won’t have to worry about him for much longer, I assure you.” She tittered lightly in response.
Madanach gave her another chilling smile from over his shoulder.
“You see, you’re becoming one of us without even realizing. Certainly you’ll find more within the Forsworn than whatever else you could find out there.” He grumbled a purr.
Aria kept a neutral front.
“Perhaps. But first, I have another task to attend to right now.” She said.
Madanach nodded to her again and reabsorbed himself into his current work. While he was scribbling onto the paper. Aria crept away from behind. Before leaving, her footsteps stopped dead in their tracks in the doorway. She looked over at Madanach, who was still focused on his paper. Aria’s hand drifted from her right side to her left, just past her waistband. Aria slowly turned to face the King in Rags again. She felt herself shuffling over with her right hand gripping her shiv tightly as she slunk closer. It was silently drawn from her waist. Before Madanach could question the shadow now looming over him, the shiv was sliced across his throat from ear to ear. His hands flew up to his gaping wound.
“You b…bitch! You-!” He sputtered, coughing up blood.
Aria threw him to the ground and dug her shiv into his chest. Blood seeped from his body and splattered to the dirt each time she pulled away. Madanach was trying to call out but the blood now streaming down his neck and body turned his words into a gargled jumble. He tried to reach his arms out to stop Aria’s assaults. His body was convulsing until his ragged gasps ceased and his body went limp on the soaked earth. Aria rose, her body still shaking. From adrenaline, she realized, not hunger. Madanach’s pocket had a peculiar outline before Aria dug through his pocket to find a key with a small note attached. She held it up, trying not to stain the text with her victim’s blood.
I promised you all we would escape Cidhna Mine together, and I have found a way. If I die before I can show it to you, search the cells near my room. Use my key. There is a tunnel that leads into the city that you can use. - Madanach.
Aria glanced at the key again.
Don’t mind if I do, she thought.
She cautiously peeked around the corner of Madanach’s room. It didn’t appear like any of the other prisoners had realized their ‘king’ had just been dethroned. If they saw Aria coming out of his room, blood on her hands, they would crack her skull against the rocks.
The door of the nearby cell creaked as it opened, making Aria cringe. She stepped through and locked it behind her. The tunnel led into a small labyrinth of dwemer ruins. She was crouched low to the cold ground. Frostbite spiders dozed amidst their webs with venom dripping from their long fangs and dwemer spiders and spheres steamed as they moseyed by. Aria was brought into a large, carved out room now. She was overlooking a bay with another dwemer sphere circling below her. The bridge led down to another tunnel just ahead. She crept along to the edge of the bridge, climbing down as silently as she could once the sphere had roamed elsewhere. Aria scampered down the tunnel until it led into a long hallway with a tall door at the end. Hesitantly, she pushed open the doors. The evening bustle of Markarth sounded from below her. Until a shadowed figure approached her from around the corner.
"My eyes inside Cidhna Mine tell me that Madanach is dead. You've done a great service to the Silver-Blood family. I've had the Jarl officially pardon you, and taken care of a few other loose ends."
Thonar Silver-Blood was beaming at Aria, greeting her from the ruins. She only sneered back at him and tensed her body.
“You and your thugs had me arrested in the first place!” Aria spat.
Thonar kept his passive expression.
"And you've proven that was the best move I could have made. Don't give me that look. You're free to go. Here, how about a little token for your efforts? My family's ring and all the things the guards confiscated from you when you were jailed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to figure out how we're going to fill our recently emptied mine." He chided.
Before he left, he waved over in the direction of the shadowed nook. Aria followed his gaze and saw Lucien appear from around the corner. Thonar glanced back at Aria.
“If I could have someone arrested for being irritating, this one would already be in Cidhna Mine. Your friend is very annoying. He’s been doing nothing but pestering me and the Jarl since you were imprisoned.” Thonar added before turning away.
Lucien didn’t let Aria speak before his arms were bound around her. She tentatively reciprocated the hug, shocked to still see him. Aria flicked her gaze back to Lucien, who was as equally pleasantly surprised to see her and she was to see him.
Not too close, Lucien! I’m sure I smell like the hole I just crawled out of, Aria thought.
“Oh, don’t listen to him! I merely had your best interests at heart!” Lucien protested to her.
“Lucien! I thought I told you to go home!” Aria almost ignored Lucien’s comment.
“I wasn’t going to let you be thrown in jail for something you didn’t do.” He argued.
“You could’ve been thrown in too just as I had! That’s exactly why I told you to go home.” Aria retorted.
“And I didn’t. I couldn’t leave you here…” Lucien continued.
Aria huffed lightly.
“How did you become so stubborn?” She blustered, running a hair through her dusted hair.
Lucien chuckled a bit before slinging a backpack off his shoulder. He dropped it onto the ground at Aria’s feet.
“I’ve had quite the influence.” He replied.
Aria shook her head lightly but couldn’t resist faintly smiling. After a few moments, she spoke again.
“Well, um…thanks. For that. And this.” She stammered out.
Lucien nodded approvingly.
“Of course.” He answered.
Aria grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder with one hand.
“Now that all that is settled, why don’t we go get a bite to eat at the Silver-Blood Inn? I haven’t had a decent meal since this morning.” Aria offered as she began to amble in the direction of the tavern.
Lucien paused and lifted an eyebrow quizzically.
“This morning? What happened this morning?” He inquired.
Aria looked back over her shoulder at him.
“This morning. When we were busted. When I was thrown in the Mine?” Aria conveyed, lifting an eyebrow back at him.
“Aria. It’s been three days. You’ve been in prison for three days.” Lucien said without an ounce of skepticism or teasing.
Aria felt herself pale at his answer. Surely it couldn’t have been that long.
“Oh,…it’s been…three…uh, days? You’ve been here for three days?” Aria asked earnestly.
Lucien nodded again.
“I told you: I couldn’t leave you here.” He repeated.
Aria took a step closer to him.
“Well…t-thank you, then. I’ll make sure to mind myself in the future from now on.” She said demurely as she tried to change the subject.
“Good, because I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail again.” Lucien gently teased.
Aria laughed a bit before beckoning him to walk with her.
“Come on, then. A bath is definitely in order…” She stated, observing her seedy, stained clothing she was still wearing.
Lucien remained at her side as they both made their way to the Silver-Blood Inn, quietly bursting with relief to see Aria out of that hole in the ground.