//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 - The Steps 
// Story: Mal Keyye Ko Keizaal 
// by Dragon Dreaming 
//------------------------------//

	Helgen. A shiver ran through her at the sight of its gates. Its walls still stood, and the gates were closed, the scorched wood looking surprisingly sturdy. There was little doubt that others had been through here after the town was sacked; whatever had not burned or been taken by the few survivors would have been looted by now, if Skyrim was anything like the rest of Tamriel. “Are you sure there’s not a way around?” Rainbow asked, eyeing the gates with a growing trepidation.
Applejack shook her head. “Not without going all the way back to Whiterun, heading toward Windhelm, and circling around the base of the mountain. No good roads on that path, either.” Rainbow grimaced. That’d be a whole lot of wasted travel. Helgen sat right in the middle of the only easy pass through the mountains on this side, too, meaning that it was through there or nowhere. She sighed, and nodded, patting Bright Eyes on the neck as she dismounted. “Let’s go, then.”
They entered the town cautiously, the humans with their bows out and Pinkie with her axe, her giant ears standing at full attention. Not a one of them bore anything other than a grim expression, and for good reason. The fires, and the dragon, had ravaged Helgen, leaving not a single building untouched. Roofs had collapsed or been torn off, walls had been knocked over, and not a single building did not stand open to the elements. Even the keep was no exception: a great gaping hole in its upper levels bore testament to the power of a dragon.
Rainbow forced down a shudder. She could see it all, still; the fire, the shouting, the screaming, the fighting, the running. Not that she would let that stop her. She was Rainbow Dash, dammit, the fastest hands in all of Cyrodiil, and probably Skyrim, too! In the past month, she’d taken on bandits, a giant, the walking dead, and a dragon, and not only lived to tell the tale but triumphed over all of ‘em! Okay, she’d had help, but still. This wasn’t gonna get to her.
She came to a dead halt, staring at the ground. There was an elongated scorch mark on the cobblestone, where dragon fire had permanently seared the road. It was the outline of the fire’s target that had her staring. She could remember, as she had fled, turning just long enough to see … to see …
She jumped at the hand on her shoulder, barely managing to suppress a yelp. Turning, she glared at Applejack, who just returned the glare with a worried gaze. “You alright, sugar cube?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing off the hand and stomping forward, making very sure not to look at the ground again. Not that it was getting to her. She just didn’t want to look at it. Who would right? It was just morbid, to stare at things like that.
Pinkie’s warning cry whipped her around, just in time to feel the breeze of the arrow as it passed by her ear. She had her own arrow nocked and her bow drawn in the work of a moment, but she had no target; the streets were bare of enemies. “T’ the horses!” cried Applejack, who was already moving to mount hers, and Rainbow was quick to follow suit. They were their best bet to escape.
She did not see where it came from. One moment, she was running for Bright Eyes, praying that the horse wouldn’t shy from her, the next, she was on the ground, her body painfully stiff, unable to do anything but take the shallowest of breaths. With her eyes locked open, she could only watch as Applejack suddenly stiffened in her saddle, and began to slide. She would have winced as her friend crashed heavily to the ground, but even that little motion was denied her.
Pinkie. She couldn’t see Pinkie. She could only see the bandits, armored in fur and hide, half of them lizards, as they cautiously approached the panicked horse. None of them were dumb enough to come from behind, unfortunately, but none seemed willing to actually get in range of horse’s front kick either. And where was Pinkie? Was she caught, too? Had she escaped? Oblivion take it, if she could only move!
The world moved; someone was rolling her over. She soon found herself staring into a pair of leering, crimson eyes. The Dark Elf’s hand moved into view, glowing green with magic, and she felt her body stiffen once again as he touched her face, which explained what had happened. She glared at him. Magic was cheating, dammit!
The elf chuckled. “We’ve struck some nice prizes, boys!” he said, drawing a smattering of laughs and cheers from the other bandits. “Get the women disarmed and tied, and make sure not to spook the horses. Those are valuable animals.” As the bandits set to work, the elf looked down at her, and grinned a worrisome grin. No, she definitely did not like the look in his eyes.


-oOo-


“You see a way out of this?” the Nord whispered.
Rainbow did not respond immediately. The bandits had been rather professional in their ambush, but typically lazy in their follow-up. Granted, the bandits outnumbered them ten to three and had made sure to take away their weapons. But putting them all together, with only their hands bound and no gags? Sloppy. And not one of them knew how to really tie someone up. Applejack looked over at her, frowning. “What’s with all the squirming?”
“Shh,” she hissed. “I’m almost free.” Applejack raised an eyebrow, but thankfully kept her mouth shut. With a final pull, and a low grunt of satisfaction, Rainbow was free, her bracers sliding over her hands and off her arms. The fools hadn’t had the wit to tie the rope around skin. Then again, they probably hadn’t ever had to bind someone like her.
With her hands free, some of the panic that she had been forcing down lessened. Unfortunately, their situation was still not all that much better. They were still weaponless, outnumbered, and that mage could just paralyze them again at the first sign of trouble, which was why she still her arms uncomfortably behind her. Still, it was progress. She spared a glance to her right, at her other friend. Pinkie had been rather disturbingly quiet since getting hit by the mage’s spell; from what she could tell, the cat had been the first of his targets. “Pinks?” she murmured. “You alright?”
The Khajiit twitched an ear in her direction, but did not respond. At least not with words. Rainbow’s eyes widened as something soft and distinctly furry slid down her arms, lingering at her free hands. She’d forgotten just how … versatile … the tails could be. That was definitely a signal; knowing Khajiit, and Pinkie in particular, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friend had gotten out of her bonds faster than she had. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
A quick look confirmed that the bandits were still busy dividing the spoils, rooting through their saddlebags and bickering over who got what. The mage was preoccupied with the horses, apparently wanting to get on their good side as quickly as possible. They were in the clear for the moment. “Okay,” she muttered, “what are our options?”
“We can’t take ‘em, can we?” asked Applejack, her tone dark.
“I don’t think so. We’d be better off running.”
The Nord grimaced. “That don’t sit right.”
“Ten to three, AJ, and we’ve got no weapons.”
“I’m aware of that,” Applejack murmured. “It still don’t sit right. Plus I don’t think I can outrun an arrow.”
“Well, best’d be to sneak out while they ain’t looking.”
Applejack gave her a sidelong glance. “I don’t sneak well, RD.”
Rainbow considered this. It was true. Applejack really didn’t sneak very well. She had a heavy trod, especially in that armor of hers, and while it wasn’t as clanky as it might have been, there was still some serious danger of it making too much noise. She gritted her teeth. This sucked. They had no options. They’d had more against the dragon, dammit; but then, the dragon hadn’t ambushed them. And they’d outnumbered it. Even if that hadn’t really mattered all that much in the long run. Stendarr’s grace, what were they going to do?
“One’s coming this way,” AJ muttered, and Rainbow opened her eyes. One of the lizards, a large, green-scaled male, clad in what amounted to little more than leather rags, was heading towards them with a scowl on his face. Or at least, she thought it was a scowl; it wasn’t exactly easy to read their faces. He halted directly over them, looking down at them with a suspicious glare.
“You were talking. Prisoners do not talk,” he said, his voice raspy. Huh. She’d half expected him to hiss.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dash said. “I thought since, you know, you’d just kinda put us here, without, like, telling us that, that it was okay.”
The lizard’s eyes narrowed, and his scowl deepened. Or she thought it was a scowl. Yep, had to be a scowl. Good, that meant she could get to him. “Prisoners do not talk,” he hissed.
“Uh huh. And yet, I’m talking. Talk talk talk. Blah blah blah.” Applejack was looking at her like she’d gone crazy. Maybe she had. There wasn’t really any kind of plan behind this, just her gut. It had never steered her wrong before. Well. At least not disastrously wrong. Except for that one time. Two times. Er. Three. 
Shit.
She’d made him angry, which was, she supposed, what she’d been going for. She just hoped no one was going to be stupid and try to stop him from hitting her. She could take it. Which, she had to admit, as the world spun around for a half-second, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch. “Prisoners.” Ow. “Don’t.” Ow. “Talk.” Hells.
The lizard turned to walk away, and she frowned. That wouldn’t do. The problem, of course, was Applejack and Pinkie Pie. More Applejack, really. Pinkie was just giving her a knowing look. Applejack was the one with the black glower. She fixed her with a gaze, and pointedly shook her head. “Don’t do anything,” she mouthed. AJ opened her mouth, and she shook her head again.
“Hey!” she called, and the lizard stopped, stock still. “Still talking, here. Who taught you to hit, pussywillow?” He turned around, stalking slowly towards her. She sneered at him. “Can’t have been anybody any good. I’ve been hit harder by a twelve year old girl!” That was actually true. Except the girl had used a tree branch.
It took all her resolve not to go for the knives on his belt. Not yet. She could take the hits. Why, though? Why was she doing this? What was the plan here? Provoke the guard, get the crap beat out of her, and then … what? She blinked, as the next blow failed to come. That didn’t seem right. It had only been four hits; guys like this usually went for broke.
She shook her head, bringing the world back into focus, and had to hide a grin. The mage had acted. Of course. Of course. That was the plan. Right. What was the elf saying? Undamaged? Yeah. Undamaged. Don’t hurt the merchandise. Like the horses, they were worth more healthy. Now if her ears would just stop ringing, she could maybe get on with the next bit. What was the next bit? She blinked. The next bit apparently involved the elf suddenly collapsing. What the hell?
The lizard seemed to be equally shocked. He didn’t stay that way for long, though, as an angry buzzing sound heralded his own sudden collapse, his head landing at Rainbow’s feet. She stared, dumbstruck, and winced as a wooden arrow clattered to the ground beside her. Arrow? No arrowhead, though. But an arrow.
She blinked, as pink fur obscured her vision. “Pinkie, what are you-”
“Help’s here, Dashie! Come on, time to go!”
Oh. Oh! She grinned, and nodded, going straight for the daggers on the lizard’s belt. Not as good as her daggers, but better than nothing. And yes, help had certainly arrived. Two more of the bandits had fallen, and the rest were looking for the source of the sniper. No one was paying them any attention. So much the better.
A fifth collapsed to the ground as she watched, and she giggled as the rest finally wised up and took cover. “Ready, girls?” she said, testing the heft of the daggers. Not the greatest balance, but serviceable.
“Ready,” said Applejack. She didn’t have her maces, but the way she was clenching her armored fists, that probably didn’t much matter.
“Ready!” said Pinkie, grinning, which had the side effect of showing off all her very pointy teeth. She didn’t have her axe, either, but, Rainbow thought, eyeing the Khajiit’s outstretched claws, that probably didn’t much matter either.
“Right. Let’s kick some tail.”


-oOo-


Applejack dragged the last of the bodies to the middle of what had once been the square, and tossed it onto the pile. The battle had been short, and brutal; without the advantages of magic, surprise, and numbers, the bandits hadn’t lasted very long. She flexed her fingers, staring at the body. There was the bloody imprint of a fist on his face, from a blow that had broken both jaw and neck. It had been easy. Far too easy. She hadn’t expected the blow to connect, and when it had … She shook her head. More and more, she was realizing just how much her brother had taught her.
“You checked their belts, right?” asked Rainbow, who had walked up behind her.
She nodded, patting the coin purse on her own belt. “They didn’t have much. Probably hadn’t been here very long. What about the rest?”
“Tied. Properly. Though I’m not sure it matters with the mage,” she said, frowning. Applejack raised an eyebrow.
“What do ya mean?”
“His neck’s broken. He’s alive, but…” She shrugged, and Applejack nodded. Nobody lived very long with a broken neck.
“What’ll we do with ‘em?”
Rainbow shrugged again. “You know local law better’n me. What’s the penalty for banditry?”
She sighed. “Depends on the Hold. Usually doesn’t matter, though. Not many bandits get taken alive.”
“Well we can’t take ‘em with us. And we can’t let ‘em loose.”
“Aye.” There was really only one option. It was not one she liked. As much as justice had called for it, she had taken no pleasure in the execution of Gedel. Nor would she take any pleasure in this. “Road law calls for their execution,” she said, and was relieved to note that Rainbow looked no more pleased with it than her. “We should take care of that as quickly as possible.”
“Yes. We should. And then we can go looking for our shadow.”
“To thank him,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Right, Rainbow?”
“Hopefully.” The Imperial replied, her voice tight. “I’d really rather a friend than another enemy.”



She stood, silent and still, in the shadow of an empty doorway, watching as the two humans pulled the captured bandits to their feet, and walked them over to a wall. It was not hard to guess what they were doing, not when the Khajiit was laying out their bows, a single arrow beside each. Three prisoners. Three arrows. One shaft per body. Road law.
She watched, still, as the Imperial tied the bandits to a wooden beam, to keep them in place, and as the Nord removed their gags. The women had honor; but then, she had known that already. She faded back into the shadows as they picked up the bows, averting her eyes and simply listening instead. She winced as the Nord barked the order, and trembled at the sound of arrows striking flesh, sinking to her knees.
It had been necessary. Like the smart cat, that kills the hunter when he sleeps. But that did not make it easier for her.



It had been necessary. She knew that. But that had not made it easier to nock the arrow and draw the bow. The temptation to miss, to let the shaft go wide, had been huge. But then she’d looked into the bandit’s eyes, and seen his sneer. If she’d let him go, someone else would have paid the price. So she had not.
She sighed, looking over at her friends. Rainbow looked angry; but then, she would be. She hated to kill outside of duels, and the bandits had forced her hand. And Pinkie … she looked deflated, almost, with no smile on her face and her ears laid back against her head. Even her tail hung low, as if she did not have the will to lift it. It had been a trial for each of them.
They were free now, though, and thanks to an unknown archer. One who used blunt-tipped arrows. And who was, hopefully, still in the area. “Pinkie,” she said, and the Khajiit looked at her. “Any clue where the archer is?”
Pinkie thought for a moment, her ears flipping up and her nostrils flaring. After a moment, she shook her head. “Pinkie smells smoke, man, mer, and lizard, but hears nothing but us. Our friend is hiding, or flown. Do we go searching?”
Dig through the ruins of Helgen, looking for a maybe ally who hid from them, and did not want to be found? She looked to Rainbow – the woman’s eyes were firmly on the gate out. “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “’Twould take too long and we’d probably find squat. Better to move on, I think.”
“Pinkie thinks so, too.”



She watched, as they readied the horses, her fingers clenching and unclenching in the soft fur of her companion. This, too, had been a chance, to go out there and meet them. Perhaps the best chance, after saving them from capture. She could have told them any story: that she was a ranger in service to Falkreath, a hired scout for either Imperials or Stormcloaks, a simple hunter who had happened by, or even on her way to the mountain, to see what the shouting was all about.
But she had let it pass. Again. And they were leaving.
She couldn’t bear the looks, or the questions, or the wonderings. Any lie she told would fail, and the truth would make them suspicious. They would turn her away, and that would hurt. But she couldn’t leave them, either. Not with her knowing. Not with hearing what she’d heard and seeing what she’d seen, and following them this long.
“Sorry, Angel kitty,” she whispered to the cat beside her. “We’re not going to talk to them.”


-oOo-


“Didn’t you say you grew up here?” Rainbow asked, as she handed Bright Eyes’ reins to the stablehand.
“Aye,” AJ replied, giving Golden Harvest a reassuring pat on the nose. The horses had been understandably skittish even after they’d left Helgen, requiring frequent stops to calm their nerves with soothing words and rubdowns. It had helped when they’d stopped at a stream and taken the time to wash, cleansing themselves of the stink of battle and death. Another few days, and they’d reached Ivarstead. “Granny’s old farm is here,” she continued. “Uncle on my mother’s side took it over when we moved to Riverwood with Gerdur.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow, looking from AJ to the inn’s sign, and back again. “So, why are we staying at the inn, then?”
The Nord scratched her head, eyes shifting to the side a touch. “Well, it ain’t quite neighborly to drop in so late without having sent ahead. And we’ve got the funds for it from the Jarl, anyway, so might as well give it to ol’ Joe (Innkeeper’s name placehold). Pilgrim travel’s been down, what with the war an’ all.”
“Uh huh.” That sounded reasonable enough, but Applejack was looking shifty, which meant she was hiding something. Girl couldn’t lie for anything, not even when she wasn’t really lying. “And?”
“Aaand … nothing?” Terrible at it. Her nose was wrinkling, even. Rainbow slugged her in the arm, shaking her head.
“Like I’m going to believe you’d pass up the chance to visit family after you dragged us into a giant fight just so you could see your cousin in Whiterun.”
“Oh, now come on! That giant wasn’t supposed to be there, and they don’t usually attack like that, anyway.”
“Yeah, but we still went toward it.” With a roll of her eyes, she reached out to grab the woman’s arm and pull her around, just before they could enter the inn. “Come on, AJ. What’s the issue?”
Applejack’s eyes narrowed, and she yanked her arm from Rainbow’s grasp. “I ain’t really feel like explainin’ it, alright? Stop pushin’.”
The Imperial stared as her friend bulled her way into the inn, boots heavy on the wooden floor. “Eesh. I was just askin’. Don’t gotta snap.”
“She doesn’t like the answer, I don’t think.” Rainbow turned, one eyebrow raised at Pinkie.
“What do you mean?”
“Hmm,” the Khajiit mused, scratching at her chin. “Well, if she liked the answer she wouldn’t have any problem sharing it, so since she doesn’t want to explain it she must not like it all that much, and that means it’s probably something she’s not all that proud of or that she thinks might hurt somebody or something like that, so she gets prickly when she’s prodded because she’s not happy with the answer and because she’s not happy with the answer she’s also not very happy with herself. Make sense?”
Rainbow blinked. She thought she’d caught all of that. Or at least the gist of. “Uh … yeah. Basically don’t push her on it right now?”
“Pinkie thinks that would be best.”
Rainbow nodded, and moved to enter the inn – only for the door to open as she reached for it, and someone to come rushing out, just barely missing crashing into her. “Excuse you!” she said, stumbling back – but there was no response. The blue-robed woman was already off the porch and heading for the stables, moving with the urgency of purpose. Rainbow blinked; the hell could be so important you’d miss almost smashing into someone?
“Bah.” She flicked her hand at the woman’s retreating back, and strode into the inn. Not worth chasing down for an apology, anyway. She had enough problems to deal with. Like a moody Nord.


-oOo-


“How many steps is it again?” Rainbow asked, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes on the path up the mountain.  You couldn’t see much of the trail, really, since there were trees and rocks and such all along the way up, but she could see enough of it to know that it was a switchback trail. Left, then right, then left, then right. Gradual slope. Longer trek.
“They’re called the seven thousand steps,” AJ answered, adjusting the straps on her packs. She’d picked up a second one from some guy named Klimmek. Supplies for the Greybeards, because apparently being a shutaway hermit entitled you to free food from someone you never saw or spoke to ever. Nords.
“Seven thousand, huh?” It wasn’t really all that much, when you put it in perspective. She’d walked longer distances. Just in the past month, even. But those distances had also not been going primarily up, and were not wolf-infested, and were for reasons other than a bunch of old guys’ shouted summons. If this were Cyrodiil, or Morrowind, some enterprising mage would have set up a teleport service. But this was Skyrim. Here, you walked, and fought off wolves, bears, and bandits, and liked it because it gave you something to boast about in the taverns.
Actually that last bit wasn’t so bad. She could get behind boast-worthy stories.
“Well, I’m not sure it’s actually seven thousand. And it’s certainly not actual steps the whole way. But it’s, well …” AJ paused in her fiddling, her brow furrowing. “What’s the word here …”
“Dramatic.” The Nord nodded to Pinkie.
“Aye. Dramatic.”
“And impressive-sounding, which makes it better for stories.” Rainbow raised an eyebrow, looking the Khajiit over. Ears twitching, claws scratching at her chin … that little slant to her eyes, too. She was thinking up a song. “Up the seven thousand steps the Dovahkiin did climb, and every step was treacherous made by never-melting rime.” Yep.
The Khajiit grinned. “That line works well. You think so, AJ?”
Applejack, on the other hand, was frowning. “I guess. I hope it don’t come true, though – it’ll be a long way down if’n one of us slips on the way up.”
“Eh, we’ll be fine,” Rainbow said, starting forward. “Can’t be much worse than the climb to the barrow, right?”
Applejack sighed. “I certainly hope so.”


-oOo-


She froze. The rock had just moved, a subtle shifting that shook the snow from its surface. Three eyes blinked open in its dark, leathery surface, white fur rippling in the blowing wind. Slowly, the creature stood, levering itself up on arms as thick as logs. For a moment, all was silent … and then it opened its wide, toothy mouth, and roared.
Applejack stumbled backward, hands fumbling for her maces; she heard Rainbow’s shout of surprise, her question of “What the hell is that?” but she had no time to reply. The brute was already on her, swinging at her with a fist the size of her head. It missed by inches, the wind of its passing making her squint.
“Troll!” came the cry, and Pinkie’s axe flashed past her, slamming into the creature’s shoulder; now it was its turn to stumble backward, yelling its pained rage as the axe’s frost swirled over its skin. It wasn’t enough. An upward swing of its other hand, and Pinkie was knocked backward, falling to her back, her axe clattering to the ground. Applejack yelled, maces finally in hand, and bulled forward, aiming a staggering strike at its face, but it saw her coming, and blocked with an arm. Her mace struck hard, if not as hard as she wanted, but did little more than bloody the skin. It shoved, and she fell, feet slipping on the snowy ground and spilling her on her rump. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and she braced herself for a crushing blow.
The follow-up blow did not come – Rainbow had flanked the creature, her feet remarkably steady on the treacherous surface, and she struck hard, the point of her dagger sinking into the creature’s back. She crouched as a follow-up, slicing at its heel as its counter-swing passed over her head, and rolled to the side to keep out of its sight. Another stab at its leg, and it swung around again – but again, Rainbow was not there. She seemed to dance around the troll, dodging its strikes and drawing blood with every flash of her daggers.
A furry hand grasped hers, and she struggled to her feet with Pinkie’s aid. Giving her friend a nod of thanks, she gripped her maces, and stalked forward, looking for an opportunity to enter the fray. She did not have to wait long – a misstep on Rainbow’s part pitched her to the ground, and the beast reared up, ready to slam both fists down on the woman. Applejack rushed in, in tandem with Pinkie, her maces swinging around to slam into both sides of the creature’s skull, even as Pinkie’s axe slammed into its gut.
Her maces bounced, and the recoil stung her even through her gauntlets; a flash of blue told her the axe had struck true, but that barely seemed to matter as the creature swung round. Pinkie ducked the meaty arms by a hair’s breadth, but Applejack was not so lucky, the force of the blow smashing her to the ground and rattling her skull. The world went white, and for a while, all she knew was the roaring of the creature, the battle cries of her friends, and the cold of the snow on her face.
Her vision cleared, finally, and she tried to raise herself up – pain shot up her left arm when she tried to move it, nearly turning the world white again. She ground her teeth and shook her head, pushing herself up with her good arm to finally take a look around. It was hard; everything was spinning in front of her, wobbling to and fro, but she could make out the beast, stalking Rainbow, who had an arrow in her hand – an arrow? She must have lost her daggers. Pinkie was nowhe- no, there she was, pink fur against white snow. She wasn’t moving. Her heart skipped, but she shook her head again, and forced herself to her feet. Rainbow was in trouble. Where was her mace? At her foot.
She bent to pick it up, pitching both world and stomach every which way, and only barely managed to stagger back to her feet, left arm hanging limply at her side. She dared not move yet, not while her head was spinning; her breath caught as Rainbow ducked one swing, sidestepped another, each of them coming far too close. She had to help – she couldn’t help. Someone, someone had to help. Please, someone help.
The troll flinched, an arrow shaft sprouting from its arm. Applejack blinked in surprise; Rainbow stepped in, and jumped, her hand flashing down to drive the point of her arrow into one of the troll’s eyes. It staggered back, roaring in pain, and a third arrow sprouted from its neck, a fourth from its shoulder.
But it still wasn’t bleeding, and as a fifth arrow decorated its chest, it rushed forward, both arms swinging around to strike at Rainbow. The duelist scrambled back, but lost her footing; on her back, she could only roll as the troll’s fist came down, and could not dodge when it grabbed her leg with its other hand.
Applejack moved. The world pitched again, and she stumbled, but she kept her footing, recovering in time to strike. The blow went wild, glancing off the troll’s back; she stumbled backward in time to avoid the counterswing, backstepping more even as it moved toward her, dragging Rainbow with it. “Let her go!” she shouted, but it roared in answer, and swung at her face – again, she barely dodged. She couldn’t win this. Even with arrows peppering its hide, the troll wasn’t stopping; its flesh was too tough for her maces, and its wounds healed even as she fought it. There was nothing she could do. She was going to die. Her friends were going to die.
No. It drew its arm back, to smash her head in. She breathed in, the chill of the mountain air rushing through her. For a moment, all was still; the troll, fist clenched, beginning its swing, dirt-smeared white fur rippling in the wind, dark fluid marring its face, just below its ruined eye; Rainbow’s hair splayed against the dirt and snow, one leg held firmly in the troll’s grasp, the other sliding against the ground. The moment passed. The troll swung. And she yelled.
“Fus!” A thunderclap of sound and a wave of force met the troll head on, slamming its arm to the side and snapping its head backward. It yelped in pain and surprise, its other hand losing its grip on Rainbow, who flopped to the ground, unmoving. Applejack stepped forward into an overhand swing, mace slamming into the troll’s head. It stumbled back farther, and she circled as it recovered, both eyes tracking her.
It seemed wary now, hunching down and actually taking a step back; smarter than she’d thought. Would it run? Could she just drive it off? No; there was still rage in its snarl, and behind its eyes. It would kill her, given half the chance, and then her friends, if they weren’t already- No. She would not give it that chance. She breathed in again, and it rushed her. Again, she yelled. Again, the thunderclap of force sent it stumbling back, and again, she followed with a blow to its head. It took a further step back, but one foot away from the cliff’s edge. It was not going to fall.
She heard the buzz, felt the wind as the arrow shot over her head, to slam into the troll’s middle eye. It yelped in pain, and took another step back – a sudden flash of pink, and there was Pinkie, the haft of her axe at the troll’s ankles. She heaved, pitching it backwards; its hands grasped at nothing, it roared, in shock, or anger, or just pain, and was gone. A moment later, the roar cut off, and all was silent.
She stared, eyes drifting from where the troll had fell to Pinkie; the Khajiit’s face was a mess, fur matted and bloody, snout bubbling with each breath, and yet she was smiling, pointed teeth all smeared in red. It was … well, terrifying. Doubly so when she slumped forward, and fell to the ground. “Pinkie!” she cried, stumbling forward, mace dropping from her hand as she dropped to her knees beside her friend. Pinkie’s chest still moved, back rising and falling with every breath, and Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. She was bruised, battered, but it didn’t look like anything fatal. Not so long as they could get to shelter.
She got to her feet, and once again the world pitched back and forth, and her stomach rebelled. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself around, taking her steps slowly, careful not to slip on snow or stone, and made her way to her other friend. The Imperial was in bad shape: raw, dirty scrapes where her skin had dragged on the ground, ugly bruising already showing where the troll had gripped her leg, shredding her trews, and her face looked no better than Pinkie’s, though the troll had never touched it. But she, too, was breathing; shallow breaths, but visible. They were both alive. They were all alive. She couldn’t rest, though. She had to get them to safety. Get them help.
She got to her feet – or tried to. Her legs refused to obey, failing halfway, and she fell hard to her knees, jarring her injured arm. The pain turned the world to white; she felt the chill on her face, the rough grit of the dirt, and then she knew no more.

Something was touching her face. It felt cool, and smooth; a light touch at first, almost a caress, then a more insistent grip, forcing her jaw to open. Panic wound through her, and she tried to fight it off, but her arms would not move. The voice came then, calm and soothing, murmuring words she should know but could not place. Something touched at her lips, wetting them. She swallowed; her throat was almost painfully dry. Drinking would be good. Yes.
It was warm, going down, and spread through her, washing away the pain she was only just remembering she felt, soothing every ache and bruise. She sighed in relief, and opened her eyes; there was a cup at her lips, sturdy pottery. Attached to the cup was an arm, covered in scales. Yellow scales. Her eyes rose, following the line of the arm, to should, to face, and finally to eyes of piercing blue. They flicked to the side, the scaled face shifting as their owner looked away. Pink … pink petals? Pink something fluttered with the motion, and then a flash of teeth. But there was that voice again. Calm, but worried. Soothing. It was nice. She closed her eyes. Just rest a bit. Then talk.