Like usual Kaius seemed to disappear from sight, fading into the press of people with barely a ripple of movement. Sometimes, Sofia would have sworn Kaius was able to merge with the shadows, or turn into mist with how easily he could vanish at will. There was so much she didn’t understand about him. So much that didn’t make any sort of sense and right on the top of that list was the sword and axe headed amulet and its hand made leather loop that he never took off.

  "Just what kind of vampire worships Talos?" She muttered under her breath, staring into her flagon at the honeyed liquid contained within.

  As far as Tavern’s went, the Bannered Mare was one of the better establishments in the city and one that Sofia had only been thrown out of a handful of times in the past. The mead was typically good, the crowds not as rough around the edges and there were always an easy mark or two that Sofia could seduce her way into the coin purse of. It especially helped that Hulda the owner and the other barmaids such as Saadia kept the typical women of the night outside which always made it easier for Sofia’s tricks and wiles. Tonight though they were far too busy with a larger than average crowd, practically run off their feet serving meals and drinks to their customers. It was truly busy, filling with a growing chorus of chattering, talking, oaths, stories, and increasingly drunken singing as she sat there, feeling amused at herself that for once she was neither in the mood for a night escapade, nor needed to access someone else's purse to pay for her mead.

  Tonight’s choices of music and entertainment however, while an improvement over the usual songs and epic poems so enjoyed by the peoples of Skyrim, was still grating on the nerves. For once it wasn’t another gods-damned rendition of Ragnar the Red, but through the conversations, singing and bustling movement of dozens of tavern patrons something entirely different reached her ears.

  "God's blood let me be!"

  Obviously feminine, and with a tone that instinctively knotted her stomach, Sofia couldn’t help but sigh and watch as one of the dozens of women that made Whiterun her home tried to move around the crowd near the bar. Carlotta Valentia was one of the many well known merchants with a permanent stall in the market square, selling the baked goods from the three best bakeries in the city. Sofia had a soft spot for the young widow, and unlike some of the others only occasionally stole a sweetroll or two, but there were others whose interests were far less savoury. With a pair of plates of food; one for herself and one for her daughter, she was attempting to move through the crowd to her table, while also attempting to shake off a pair of hands grabbing at her dress. Hands that were attached to one of the local bards and minstrels that Sofia also knew all too well, and for all of the wrong reasons.

  'Womaniser' was one of the politer names Mikael had throughout the city, especially in the Plains district. Sofia had several names for him, and one of them rhymed with ‘hunt’. Any woman of even passable attractiveness was fair game for the local bard and so far at least he had been too cunning to try his luck with any of the married women. His caution was warranted though, especially in a society and culture that responded to such dishonourable acts with an axe to the face for the perpetrator. This unfortunately meant that Mikael preferred to go for the more vulnerable women in the city, who had no one to support them,

  Several months earlier, shortly after she arrived in Whiterun, Sofia had been the object of his unwanted desires before she ‘convinced’ him, that healthier prospects lay elsewhere. At swordpoint. Sooner or later though, the bastard would lose interest in whoever he was "courting" before returning to Carlotta, making the woman’s life a constant nightmare.

  "You know you want me, Carlotta." Stumbling through the press, Sofia could see that Mikael had been drinking between his performances and despite the relatively early hour he was slurring and well on his way to drunkenness. "Stop denying it!"

  "Just... Please... Leave me alone..." Trying her best to not react, Carlotta was doing everything in her power to ignore the groping attempts of the bard ‘wooing’ her, placing the plates of food on the table adjacent to the bar. Her expression may have been an attempt at a reassuring smile to her daughter who sat in one of the chairs but anyone who bothered to look could see it was forced. For her part, the tiny girl was simply watching her mother and the man partially stumbling after her, legs dangling and kicking from the all-too-large seat with all the innocence of youth.

  A yelp of surprise, a slight clatter of a plate precariously close to being dropped and Carlotta was yanked backwards, being twisted about by the larger nordic man as he forced her to face him. While her expression appeared to be carved from the stone mountain Whiterun was built upon, Sofia couldn’t help but see the fear in the Imperial woman’s eyes. She was trying to pull away, trying not to look at him, and wordlessly pleading for help all at the same time. Those bystanders closest to her however were torn between their desire to intervene, and the bard’s connections with the seedier elements of the city.

  "My daughter is right there..." Carlotta moaned, both as a plea and a desperate warning as she tried and failed to twist out of his grasp.

  "And? So? I'm not interested in her, I’m interested in you."

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  Sighing, Sofia went to put her flagon down, paused and thought better of it before starting to rise from her seat with it still in her hand. Mikael was a bastard seven times out of ten and an arsehole for the other three, but this was the furthest he had ever pushed his luck. Alcohol, and the confidence of someone with his ‘associates’ nearby were pushing his actions far across a line. There were easily a dozen or more people standing around Mikael as he pulled Carlotta closer, his hands grabbing and tugging on places that he shouldn’t but the line for intervention hadn’t been reached yet for them. Sofia’s line for getting involved was different. Especially how it had been recently shifted somewhat by a combination of Frostbite Spiders, Draugr, and a day walking vampire with a sociopathic hatred for the Aldmeri Dominion.

  Even before she could push her chair back, Mikael lunged forward and kissed Carlotta drunkenly, cutting her complaints and disgust with his lips and pulling her tighter until she dug her fingernails into his face. Pain seemed to be the only real deterrent for the arsehole and while Sofia knew this from experience, it seemed scratching was just as effective as cutting him with a dagger. Carlotta wasn’t carrying a blade but as she staggered against her table with a clatter, a battered tavern fork appeared in a shaky hand as though it was a sword.

  "You fucking bitch!" The scratches were minor, barely even leaking blood but it had been enough to change his lust into rage as he saw the streaks of red on his fingertips after probing his face. “You're going to pay for that, you whore."

  There was no time to move, act or intervene as the enraged bard drew his arm back to strike her with all the force he could muster and the slap of flesh on flesh ripped through the crowd like the snap of a siege trebuchet, plunging the tavern into silence. Sofia had barely managed to disentangle herself from the chair and push through a pair of caravan guards but somewhere in those moments someone had stepped between the terrified stall owner and the livid bard.

  Sofia hadn’t seen her companion since he had vanished to get another drink, and somehow, yet again proving his ability to disappear and reappear, Kaius had been the one to intervene. The loud, painful slap that had cut through the noise and chatter of the crowd had not been Mikael striking Carlotta in the face with presumably enough force to knock her to the floor, but instead the sound of Kaius catching his hand in mid motion in a grip that could’ve crushed the Jerrall mountains.

  "I do believe the lady asked you to leave her alone." It wasn’t even directed at her but Sofia shivered at the way Kaius practically growled the words at the surprised bard.

  Releasing his grip on Mikael's arm, Kaius stood between him and Carlotta who seemed shocked that someone had actually come to her aid. The looks of concern of the other patrons were ignored as they glanced between him, Mikael, and the trio of his friends as they rose to their feet, but Sofia knew that the casual stance was an act. The look in the vampiric adventurer's eyes was a perfect copy of the expression she had seen just before he started gutting Justiciars.

  "Who the FUCK do you think you are? Do you have a death wish or something?"

  "She told you to leave her alone. So I think you better do it." For most people the glare the drunken bard directed at Kaius would have stopped them in their tracks as his anger erupted out of him, but Kaius’s smile was only grew larger. More confident. More chilling and threatening.

  "You have got balls. I'll give you that. But that fiery widow is mine." The bard laughed in Kaius's face, jabbing a finger at Carlotta who was trying her best to keep her daughter calm against the rising tensions growing in the room.

  "She doesn't want you, and she is not yours."

  "Oh yeah?" They were already standing close together, but Mikael closed the gap further until the two men were standing almost nose to nose, inebriated rage radiating against cold confidence. "She'll be mine. I'll conquer her like a true Nord conquers any harsh beast."

  The Pale with its vast glaciers were warmer than the expression growing on Kaius’s face, but there were hints of amusement within his eyes and the twitch of a smile in his goatee. Without removing his gaze from Mikael’s, Kaius took one last mouthful, licked his lips and placed his flagon onto Carlotta’s table behind him. For anyone unfamiliar with the two, Mikael would have been the favoured opponent for any bets with his broad shoulders, and a good hands difference in height to his goateed opponent. Even for a bard, Mikael’s nordic heritage ensured he stood strong and powerful, but dressed in travelling clothes and a simple cloak Kaius’s own physique was entirely hidden from view. A physique that Sofia had come to know was very, very capable, even without his vampirism.

  "You have five seconds, friend…" Like a slug, the word slid out of Mikael's mouth as though it was going to leave a trail of slime down his shirt. "To remove yourself from, ‘my’ tavern."

  "I'll give you three."

  Sofia had to suppress a giggle at the way Kaius glared at the nordic man standing in his face, and the cocky, confident smile that was ninety-nine percent challenge. From the moment she met him in the stables, let alone seeing him with his shirt off and the bounties they had gathered since Sofia knew that Kaius was not the sort of individual to cross. Watching him annihilate more elven soldiers and agents than there were people currently standing in the Bannered Mare in the day past, only reinforced the knowledge in her mind.

  "One..." Mikael growled, drawing out the word far longer than he needed to until it devolved into a low hiss.

  Kaius simply stared at him with the impassive mask of an expression he seemed to wear as often as his cloak.

  "Two..." For a moment Mikael seemed to hesitate, something within the depths of his mind trying to make itself heard through the fuzziness of the booze and failing. An instinct, or a warning from his subconscious that he entirely chose to ignore.

  Suddenly, and without bothering to finish counting, he rolled his hip, balling his fist and threw it right into Kaius's face.