Ilia gazed happily at Myrna as the young Imperial bantered with a Redguard trader. It was nice to see the Dragonborn let her guard down for once, to forget about the burdens and responsibilities of her apparent destiny. She'd even cast off the sinister black armor she usually wore day and night, trading it for a cleavage-baring bodice and a pleasantly short figure-hugging skirt. Her laughter filled Ilia's ears, and her smile, so rare, was something Ilia would never tire of seeing. Myrna turned to her companion, eyes aglow, and drained the rest of her cup of alto wine. "You were right," she said to Ilia. "Thanks for dragging me here. It's good to unwind." But her face suddenly hardened as she fixed her gaze on the just-opened door of the Winking Skeever. Ilia turned to follow her gaze; a red-haired woman, half-naked and half covered in strategically placed green velvet, together with a broad-shouldered Nord in plate armor strolled up to the bar. Neither looked like anyone to trifle with, but there was an almost animal intensity in the woman's face. Since teaming up with Myrna a few months prior, Ilia had taken on just about every horrible thing she could imagine, and handled every foe with an almost easy assuredness, feeding as she did off the Dragonborn's confidence and abilities. But the woman in green was not anyone Ilia would want to tangle with, she instinctively knew, even with Myrna at her side.
Ilia turned back to her lover just in time to hear Myrna mutter, "shit" under her breath. "Do you know them?" Ilia asked. Myrna's eyes would not meet hers for several seconds. Finally Myrna looked at her sternly. "They're members of the Companions, from Whiterun. Farkas is the man. The woman is Aela the Huntress."
"You're upset they're here?" asked Ilia.
Myrna looked noncommittal, which was enough to answer Ilia in the affirmative. She'd never known Myrna to be so obviously evasive about anything. The two Companions each took a large mug of mead from the bar and looked around for a table. They chose one not too far from where Myrna and Ilia sat, although the dim lighting and the presence of a large stone pillar hid the two women somewhat from the newcomers. Myrna tapped the table with her finger, whether out of impatience or agitation Ilia could not tell. After a few moments, Ilia felt Myrna's hand on her thigh. She looked up to see her lover's face full of both pain and tenderness.
"Ilia," Myrna began, "Aela is..."
Just then they were interrupted by the redhead, who abruptly sat at their table and locked her gaze on the Dragonborn. "So," she said, "This is where you've been hiding yourself. We've missed you at Jorrvaskr, my love." She didn't sound particularly loving uttering the last two words.
"I imagine you're about the only person in Skyrim that can sneak up on me, especially when I've already seen you," Myrna said. Ilia glanced back and forth between the two of them. Myrna, usually so collected, seemed anything but; Aela was as steady as the wind in Winterhold. The redhead turned her gaze to Ilia, and her eyes were a mixture of icy coldness and barely subdued fire. "And who is your...friend?"
Myrna sighed audibly but seemed to regain her composure. "Aela, this is Ilia. Ilia, this is Aela." Ilia did her best to greet the newcomer politely, although a spike of fear shot through her stomach.
"A pleasure," Ilia said. "How do you know each other?" With the question, Myrna's face fell once again while Aela's mouth curled into a little smirk.
"I'm surprised she hasn't mentioned me," Aela said. Ilia say that Myrna's eyes were closed. "I'm her wife."
