It must have been nearly midnight when Monywyr arrived at the old border post that marked Riverwood's southern limit. He wondered if Lucan Valerius would remember him - remember Monilee, that is - but somehow he doubted it. Really, Monywyr was more concerned with just getting in the door. He knew he had the gold to afford a night at the Sleeping Giant, but Rose's urgency pushed him to avoid delay.

 

And yet, delays found him. The gaggle of elves dressed in golden armor was impossible to miss. Thalmor.

 

 

For all his care in trying to pass the gate inconspicuously, Monywyr found himself stopped immediately. Before the elf could even utter his first word, a glance to the right revealed that this checkpoint was no coincidence - it seemed the Thalmor had just finished nailing up a wanted posted bearing the face of the girl he'd rescue earlier that evening.

 

"You there, halt! What business do you have being here?"

 

Doing his best to appear unbothered he responded, "just passing through. What seems to be the problem?"

 

 

The question didn't come as a surprise, and Monywyr had already steeled himself to deliver the lie. No, of course he hadn't. He'd never seen her before. 

 

"Well, take a good look at it. Study it well. And if you do see her, make sure you report it."

 

The elf paused and then almost grudgingly added, "there's a sizeable reward for information leading to her capture."

 

"All these soldiers for one young girl?" Monywyr asked, "what did she do?"

 

 

I like her already, Monywyr thought, zoning out the lengthy list of threats the officer was making about the fate of anyone who assisted his quarry. 

 

"Well," he said at length, "I'll keep that in mind."

 

"Good, good, be on your way." With a wave of his hand, the Thalmor moved on to harassing another traveler who was approaching the gate. 

 

Fortunately, the Riverwood Trader wasn't locked up, despite the late hour. Perhaps the hullabaloo with the Thalmor had kept Lucan and Camilla up - certainly, when Monywyr entered they were squabbling over how to deal with the theft of the golden claw. If either of them remembered Monilee, they didn't recognize her in Monywyr's face. After making introductions and selling some of the loot he'd taken from the bandit near Helgen, Monywyr raised the question of the supplies Rose had asked for.

 

 

Clean bandages, it turned out, were indeed something Lucan could provide. After a quick exchange of coin, Monywyr made his exit and headed back to Rose's camp at a pace just short of what he thought would look suspicious. 

 

As he made the hike back to the camp, he thought of words Lydia had said in his past life. He didn't remember the exact way she put it, but she'd said that Mara brought blessings on the home, on the quiet family life, but Dibella brought blessings on lovers and those hot with passion. Monywyr was painfully aware of how easily Rose had swayed him to help her... and yet, he felt powerless to turn from the path. Was this Dibella's hand, stoking his passions for her own purpose? Monywyr loved and revered Dibella just as he had when he was Monilee, but at times he tired of being manipulated by any being... goddess or daedra. 

 

 

Rose was still awake when he returned, resting by the fire. "Did you get the items?" she asked. Monywyr handed over the bandages and blankets with a nod. He tried not to yawn, but he realized he was starting to get rather tired. 

 

"Thank you," she said. Taking the bundle, she started binding the girl's wounds. "See those scars on her back?" Rose asked as she worked, "marks of the lash. Something tells me this girl has a story to tell." 

 

At length she finished bandaging the girl's wounds, then ensconced her in furs to ward against the cold. 

 

"So what now?" Monywyr asked.

 

Rose shrugged, "Now we wait. There's a risk of fever still, so we must keep the fire alight. If she survives the next few days we can find out who she is... where she comes from. And I can take her home, if she has one."

 

"If the Thalmor are to be believed, her name is Rigmor, of Bruma." 

 

"Bruma, huh? That's a long way from Falkreath Hold."

 

"She's wanted for murder."

 

"Well, I won't judge till I hear her side of the story. And you? What's your story."

 

Monywyr almost told her the whole yarn, but he held back. It was just too much for anyone to believe. So he settled for, "I'm just a wanderer. A traveler."

 

"Well, you wandered by at the right time, so thank you."

 

They made small talk for a while, warming by the fire as they discussed hunting and fishing (and Rose's hate for the latter). Just before Monywyr reached the point where his tiredness overwhelmed his enjoyment of Rose's company, a groan slipped forth from Rigmor's furs and both leapt to their feet.

 

"Hey," said Rose, "hey, you're going to be alright." She comforted the girl a while longer, and soon she sunk back into a fitful sleep.

 

"We're going to have to build her back up," Rose said, "a stew of cabbage and venison is probably the right way to start. Will you stay and help me out?"

 

Monywyr nodded, "sure, but first I need some rest, else I'll fall asleep on my feet."

 

Rose smiled, "fair enough. Get some shut-eye, then some hunting in the morning. Sound good?"

 

It did. It sounded very good. The next couple days passed in a blur - hunting for deer, haggling with a local hermit for vegetables, even a trip into town to fix some of Rigmor's gear. After that last errand, Monywyr returned to find Rose keeping the stew pot stirred as it cooked.

 

"I've been thinking while you're away," she said by way of greeting, "you don't need to stay here if you don't want to. The girl's getting stronger by the hour now, and I'm sure she'll pull through. She'll be weak for a few more days, but you've done more than enough."

 

It was an opening, an opportunity to resume his journey, but Monywyr felt like the time hadn't come yet. To say nothing of the fact that he was still getting accustomed to living in his new skin, the past few days had been quietly satisfying and, as the shock of his transition from one life to the next had cooled, he'd come to understand that he would need to forge new allies, just as Monilee had. So he shook his head slowly.

 

"No, I'd like to stay."

 

 

Rose smiled at that. "You're a good person. That's a rare thing these days. We can watch her in turns, if you'd like." 

 

And take turns they did, watching as the girl gradually regained her strength and talking about... future plans. Rose didn't plan to stay long in Skyrim, eager to seek warmer climes along the Gold Coast. Perhaps to open an inn or a guest house. Monywyr mostly changed the subject whenever his future plans came up. As much as he'd warmed to Rose's company, he wasn't sure she'd believe the story of his past - or of his plans for the future. So Monilee's struggles and her tragic fate, and Monywyr's plans for power and revenge all stayed unsaid. The next night, Rose gave Monywyr and appraising look.

 

"I've been thinking about how to reward you," she said.

 

Monywyr sipped his soup, shrugging. "This has been all the reward I need," he said, "until we met, I'd had no idea how much I needed a break from my wandering. I've got you to thank for that."

 

"Still," she said, "I promised I'd make it worth your while." Was that a twinkle or mischief - or invitation - Monywyr saw in her eyes?

 

He considered that for a moment. If he'd still been Monilee, that look would have been how she'd have drawn a man into her bed. And Monywyr could understand why it had worked - her certainly felt his senses start to become more acute, more focused on her. But he also wondered, was this a test? He'd wondered if Dibella had sent him on this errand. But what if it was a test from Nocturnal. 

 

"Hey," he said, "I don't expect anything from you. I'm helping because I care." Even as he said it, it struck him that this was exactly the sort of polite fiction that a man would say, the sweet pretext to that trip to bed.  

 

Did she blush a little? The glow of warm firelight disguised her color just enough that it was unclear. "Oh," she said with a chuckle, "you're not like most of the others."

 

Internally Monywyr groaned. Is this Dibella's hand, or is this what it's like to live in a man's skin? He thought about Nocturnal's promise - her threat - and the spit of rebirth awaiting him. But with each passing moment those dangers seemed more remote, more abstract, and he felt his skin warming at the thought of Rose's company. The hand of Dibella, indeed. For a moment, it angered him - when he was Monille, he'd kept his faith to the goddess to the bitter end, and now increasingly he realized that he was just as much her pawn as Nocturnal's. In a chilling moment of clarity, he realized that even if he broke Nocturnal's bonds, he might next have to apostacise himself if he truly wanted to be his own ruler.

 

"You are a beautiful, kind, and loving person," he said. "Truly, I just wanted to help." 

 

"Thank you, it means a lot."

 

Realizing he was too far down the path to change course now - at least not without snuffing out their friendship in the process, Monywyr realized he had no choice but to press on. Idly he thought... when he was Monilee, he'd loved women and men both. Would he feel the same way in this new skin? Time would tell, he supposed, but for now it was only Rose that he cared about. 

 

He continued, "I mean it, you have a big heart."

 

The flirted and laughed a little more, then Rose beckoned Monywyr towards her tent. "Come on, it's getting late," she said, but her eyes again twinkled with promise.

 

"What about Rigmor?"

 

"She'll be fine. With the gods' blessing and a little luck, she'll be up in no time. Come on."

 

Monywyr undressed and made his prayers to Dibella. While a small part of him knew that he might be doomed to lose her as a patron, for now the rituals were comforting and... right. When they concluded, they crawled under the furs together. Snuggling gradually turned to tentative touching and rubbing, then more intimate explorations. As Monywyr warmed and felt himself growing stiff he was caught by a moment of doubt - all his prior sexual experience had been as a woman, after all. Could he please Rose without skill and practice? As it turned out, his tongue and hands worked just as well attached to a man's body... and for the rest, nature took its course. With gentleness and care, both of them found pleasure before settling into a deep and restful sleep.

 

"Hey. Hey!" A rough voice brought Monywyr back to his senses. The sun had dawned and birds chirped in the surrounding trees. Taking in his surroundings, he quickly realized the voice was coming from the lean-to that protected Rigmor from the elements. Monywyr also noticed that Rose was gone.

 

The girl was sitting up on her furs, but clutching her side in obvious discomfort. That did stop her from skewering him with a judgmental stare however.

 

"You do realize you're naked, right?"

 

 

"Good morning to you too, Rigmor," he said before taking a moment to slip on some clothes.

 

That momentary delay evidently gave her some time to take in her surroundings, and she spat back, "hey, where's my stuff?"

 

Mildly annoyed, Monywyr explained, "your stuff is safe."

 

"What happened?"

 

Monywyr related the story of the past few days and as he told it, the girl's set jaw softened.

 

"Yeah, uh, thanks for that. Sorry... for before."

 

"Forget about it," Monywyr said in dismissal. Then Rose's absence again asserted itself.

 

"Have you seen Rose?"

 

Rigmor looked confused for a moment, slowly saying, "Is... that her name? She... said she was going south, to a friend, to make sure the coast was clear."

 

"A friend?"

 

"Her name is Angi. She lives in the mountains south of Falkreath."

 

Monywyr considered that, "Then we should follow her. She can't be far ahead of us on the trail."

 

Rigmor nodded in assent. "Do you know the way?"

 

"More or less. Certainly to Falkreath from here. Can you show me the rest of the way from there?"

 

 

"but you know that part, I guess. After that, we follow a game trail up into the mountains."

 

"Should we expect trouble from the Forest Guardian?" Monywyr asked, thinking back to the experiences of his past life.

 

"I... I don't know. Should we?"

 

"Call it a hunch. The roads might be less safe than you're expecting."

 

"Alright," she agreed, "then all the more reason to stay off the main roads. We take it slow and easy - just as well, I doubt I could keep up for long if we tried to rush. Not yet at least." 

 

They took the boat mostly in silence, leaving Monywyr alone with his thoughts. He toyed with the idea of passing through Falkreath itself to see if Lucien was in the inn where they'd met a lifetime ago, but he also knew the Thalmor had spies in all the major cities. He'd have to put off that reunion for the time being. Once they reached the landing on the west side of Lake Ilinalta, by Half Moon Mill, the two took a moment to plan the next leg of the journey. While they discussed, Rigmor adjusted her cuirass and took stock of her travel supplies.

 

"So... about a weapon. I don't have mine, lost it before I jumped off that cliff."

 

Monywyr considered his options before offering her his hunting bow. "Can you draw this with those wounds still on the mend."

 

Tenatively, she tested the string. "I think so. But I'll keep a safe distance just in case."

 

So agreed, the started making their way south, keeping clear of the main road. Other than a couple of unfortunate bandits, they managed to avoid any confrontations. If the Forest Guardian was already awakened, they managed to avoid his attention. At last, they came across a wooden barricade blocking a side path.

 

 

"This is it," Rigmor said, "not far now."

 

"Subtle," Monywyr observed.

 

"Hey, don't knock it if it works, right?"

 

The camp was just a little further along, nestled between two mountain cliffsides and well defensible behind a wooden palisade with good sight lines for archery. Monywyr couldn't appreciate it long, however, before a woman greeted him.

 

 

Stating the obvious, Monywyr pointed out, "I'm here with Rigmor. We're following after Rose."

 

Angi frowned at that. "Nah, I don't know who you're talking about, but Rigmor is under my protection. Don't get any bright ideas."

 

That troubled Monywyr enough that he didn't have an immediate response to her. What had happened to Rose?

 

As Rigmor came into view around the bend, Angi seemed to relent for a moment. "Well, we'll see about that. You've been warned... so keep your hands to yourself."

 

Angi walked to Rigmor, where they spoke in quiet conversation. Unable to hear what they were speaking of, Monywyr took a seat by the campfire to warm himself. There was another woman there, evidently with the same idea, and he nodded to her in silent greeting.

 

 

"Don't mind Angi," she said, "she doesn't have much use for, or trust of, men these days."

 

"Oh?" Monywyr said, "sounds like there's a story there. What about you?"

 

"There is a story, but it's not my place to tell it. I'm Rosa, a friend of Angi's and, if your armor is telling the truth, in the same profession as you."

 

He shrugged, "I'm just a wanderer."

 

"Aren't we all? No, you're an adventurer, just like me. You can't hide it."

 

Speaking in not hiding things, he noticed that he armor seemed incomplete in an important way. Evidently she noticed the movement of his eyes.

 

"Yes, there's a reason they call me Rosa Round-Bottom. But it's the same reason no one calls me that to my face."

 

"Doesn't that get... rather cold up here on the mountain?"

 

She winked, "Lady Dibella gives me all the warmth I need."

 

"You're a devotee of her too, then?"

 

She crooked an eyebrow at Monywyr, "not many men in Skyrim call Dibella their patron. You're an odd one."

 

He shrugged, "I was a woman in a past life."

 

That provoked a laugh from her. "Sure, tell me another one. I like you, what's your name?"

 

"Monywyr, late of High Rock." Not Monywyr Thane, of Whiterun. Not yet, at least. 

 

"Oho, you're a long way from home then."

 

"Angi," Rigmor's voice carried across the camp, "this is the guardian. He saved my life! It's okay... you can relax."

 

Whatever Angi said in response, Monywyr couldn't hear, but it must have ended the conversation for soon Rigmor approached the campfire.

 

"Come on," she said, "I have a spare bedroll in my tent. You can crash there."

 

He followed her, and once they were inside asked the obvious question: "So let me get this straight... I'm officially 'The Guardian' now?"

 

"Yeah," she said with a laugh, "my guardian angel."

 

"And what's with Angi?"

 

"I got myself seriously hurt after the... Bruma thing. Angi found me while she was hunting and nursed me back to health. If it wasn't for her, I probably would have died right there. We have... some things in common, and I think now she treats me like her own daughter." 

 

"I noticed how protective she was."

 

"Don't let it get to you. She really is a nice person once you get to know her."

 

They talked for a while longer, but they were both getting tired and soon they both agreed it was time to rest. Rigmor turned in first, but Monywyr crossed the camp to Angi's cabin and knocked on the outside.

 

"What do you want?" she asked.

 

"If you don't mind, I'll pitch my tent in your camp... but first I wanted to talk to you about Rose."

 

She nodded slowly. "Rigmor told me. I'm worried about her - even if she got sidetracked, she should have been here by now. Tomorrow I'll meet with some of the other hunters that travel these mountains and we'll try to find out what happened... but for now, go pitch your tent and rest."

 

Monywyr passed the night in troubled sleep. Worries for what had happened to Rose, along with his dilemma of faith and newfound questions of Dibella's motives fought for his attention. It was well into the wee hours before he finally found deep sleep, waking as the morning sun began to creep in through the flap of his tent. Opening his eyes, however, Monywyr found new cause for concern. Familiar tightness around his chest, wrists, and throat warned him that whatever respite Nocturnal had granted him was at an end. 

 

 

 

Test Results

Generally things went smoothly, including execution of the skip initial story function. One note - the Nocturnal robe uses a female reference body for male characters. This is a vanilla issue with Skyrim also, but you should be aware of it. Longer term, you may want to create an alternate nif that uses a male reference body.