Several of the nearest witnesses winced at the sound of hardened knuckles hitting a cheek and through the tavern the background murmur was silenced as though a string cut with a knife. The punch had been quick, and full force, but Kaius was still standing.

  Mikael might as well have punched the mighty Gildergreen tree in Whiterun’s central square, as Kaius took the blow that rocked his head back but otherwise not flinching. It was a solid, powerful punch with Mikael's full weight behind it, leaving the shorter man worming his tongue into a cheek and rolling his jaw. Even those unaccustomed or inexperienced with fighting could see that Kaius had intentionally let the punch connect, allowing himself to be struck in such a way that left his face swelling and growing pink, but otherwise ignoring it.

  "That was your only free hit." Kaius growled. "And you wasted it."

  In panic, Mikael threw another punch, rocking forwards in an experienced brawler's stance but Kaius wasn't going to let him get another opportunity. To Sofia and the other witnesses he seemed to simply explode into action, twisting and dropping down lightly to deflect the wild haymaker, before slamming a fist of his own into the Nord's stomach. The fight that some were expecting was over in seconds, Kaius victorious and Mikael left whining and struggling in a grip stronger than iron. Sofia had seen paper folded up less thoroughly compared to Kaius gripping Mikael’s shoulder and arm from behind, twisting the bard up in an experienced and inescapable armlock that kept the two men at arm’s reach apart.

  "I do believe the lady deserves an apology."

  "F...Fuck you!"

  One moment they were locked together, facing towards Carlotta and her daughter, and the next Kaius twisted, swinging Mikael around and slamming his face into the wall. The fleshy thump rattled some of the plates and flagons on nearby tables, but Mikael’s cry of pain was louder, and heard by everyone in the room.

  "There are children present, shitsack." Again, Mikael found himself facing Carlotta as she tried to simultaneously shield her daughter’s eyes and flinch away from the two men. "Apologise."

  Between the moans and the congested, groaning exclamations of pain from his broken nose, Mikael spluttered something that was definitely not an apology, before his face was reacquainted with the wall for a second time.

  "That wasn't polite." Millimetre by millimetre, Kaius was applying pressure to the bard’s shoulder, wrist and elbow as he forced the struggling Nord into stillness and onto his knees. A task made all the easier by Mikael’s increasingly dazed state from being forced to headbutt the wall. "Apologise, or Hulda will have a new window in here."

  "I-I'm sorry!"

  "You’re not apologising to me." Shifting his weight and grip, Kaius twisted Mikael forward into a half-kneeling, half prostrated position facing the cringing widow and her daughter. "Apologise to them."

  "I'm... I'm sorry."

  "That's better." Something as small and simple as a curl of a mouth shouldn’t have been intimidating but Sofia shivered as she saw the expression of enjoyment just under the surface of Kaius’s face. There was definitely a part of him that enjoyed hurting others, but she wasn’t entirely sure whether it was handing out justice or the pain itself that twisted Kaius’s lips into a grim smile. "Now. You are going to leave her alone from here on in. If I catch even the slightest whiff or hint that you act or treat anyone like what you have done; I will personally ensure that the guards have to use a mop and bucket to clean up your remains. Understand?"

  “I-I understand.”

  “Good.” The deep hiss that crawled out of Kaius was somehow as chilling to Sofia as the memory of him ripping the arm off one of the Elven Justiciars on the road as he relaxed his grip, letting the injured, bloody faced bard slap down onto all fours "But, just so you don't forget..."

  The thud of flesh this time was not as loud, or table rattling as the others but it was no less effective as Kaius punched Mikael in the back of his head, leaving the northman sprawled face first onto the floor.

  "I'm sorry for my rudeness." It was almost as though the bard no longer existed as Kaius stepped over the prone form, picking up his flagon from where it rested and giving a soft, confident grin to Carlotta and her daughter. "I hope I didn't scare either of you."

  "I-I'm fine." While she was breathing heavily, shaking from the stress and trying to run her fingers comfortingly through her daughter's hair, Carlotta nodded her thanks to the man who had come to her aid. "Thank you."

  "It’s always a pleasure helping those in need. I’ll be around to make sure the lesson sticks, but I doubt you’ll have any more trouble from him." As though he was simply talking about the weather, Kaius took another mouthful of his drink, meeting Mila’s frightened gaze and sticking his tongue out to ease the young Imperial girl’s fears as she sat on her mother’s lap. The tiny girl, while just as distraught as her mother, beamed a smile, returning Kaius’s wave as he turned as he began walking towards Sofia and their table.

  “Well, that was fun.”

  All around them, the crowd suddenly shuffled away, clearing a wide open space in the middle of the tavern with the two of them in the centre. In weary resignation, Kaius breathed out a deep breath, seeing the way Sofia was looking over his shoulder at the source of armoured boots on wood.

  "How many of them are there?"

  "Three."

  Again, the fact that he was smiling should have come as a warning, but Mikael’s ‘companions’ unfortunately couldn’t see it with his back to them.

  "Care to join in?"

  Before she could even answer, one of the trio at Kaius's back growled, cracking his knuckles loudly while the other two looked about the crowd, daring them or anyone else to try to intervene.

  “Is she with you?” The tone was guttural and thick, the accent of Whiterun Hold slurred somewhat by mead but the threat was inherent enough in the words. “If the slut knows what’s good for her she’ll stay out of this. Or, even better, she can wait her turn, so we can take turns with her.”

  Braids and tattoos, furs and muscles. The three of them were larger and burlier specimens than the usual inhabitants of Whiterun from the nature of their ‘jobs’, which also meant that getting their hands bloodied was a daily expectation. It also meant that their crude humour was not an idle threat, but a promise they intended on making good. Almost any other time she would have considered being a willing participant to such activities, if her temporary ‘companions’ had a modicum of decency at least. These however were the type that found out the hard way that her sword was not just for decoration and she was very, very capable with its use.

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  A barfight was also something that she enjoyed on a semi-regular occasion, even with a trio of underworld enforcers that were more likely to stick knives between ribs than stick to using fists but the expression of Kaius's face stilled her blood. Something within him was building, a shadow had darkened his eyes and a single, almost imperceptible shake of his head did more than enough to chill her to the core, and dampen the rush of pleasure at a potential fight.

  “Everyone is so rude this evening.” The sigh that billowed out of him as he turned was tinged with regret and annoyance. “That was entirely uncalled for. I think that you all should apologise to my friend.”

  Three against one was never fair odds, but thirty massacred elves had proven to Sofia that he could handle more than three thugs. They didn’t know that though, and instead his attitude was perfectly infuriating

  “You come into our tavern, onto our territory, hurt our friend and expect us to apologise?” While shorter than the leader of the trio, the shortest of the thugs was almost equal to Kaius in height with a mass of tattoos fighting for space across his visible flesh. “That’s not how this works.”

  "I don't suppose that we can agree that the piece of shit had it coming?" Kaius was continuing to sip away at his flagon, gesturing to the still-unconscious Mikael on the floor with his empty hand. No one had bothered to move to his assistance and if anything those within the tavern were gradually stepping further, and further away from the four men squaring off in the room.

  “No one touches us without compensation. They especially don’t touch us unless they want to get taught a lesson.”

  “Okay. Lesson learned.” For a few short moments Kaius fumbled about with one of the small pouches attached to his waist, extracting a coin and flipping it through the air to the trio with a thumb where it was snatched out of the air. Even from a distance, all in the room could see the obvious, golden colour of the septim as the burly leader opened a paw of a fist that had caught the coin.

  “You misunderstand the situation you're in, milkdrinker. We're going to extract our friend's payment out of you in blood."

  "Oh that's not a payment." Hand on hip and looking into his flagon, Kaius swirled the ruby-amber coloured brandy contained within, without even looking in their direction. "That's to cover the costs for your healing at the temple of Kynareth."

  All three men bristled with anger, glaring with murderous intent at the totally unconcerned Kaius who took another mouthful of brandy. There was a heightened sense of panic growing within the tavern now, many within realising lines had well and truly been crossed and Sofia could see Hulda gesturing frantically for Saadia or one of the other barmaids to fetch the guard. Such a task wasn’t going to be easy as there were a dozen or more people attempting to find a quick escape from the expected fight, or milling around watching while blocking the way out of the tavern.

  "Alright then." Kaius said, wiping his mouth with a grin. "Let's get this over with."

  Bounding forward on the balls of his feet, a vicious jab with his free hand snapped through the air, smashing right into the mouth of the trio’s leader. There was no hesitation, no moment of placing his flagon down before Kaius had struck, and in front of a tavern full of the evening’s patrons the towering nordic thug collapsed like a felled pine.

  Glasses, plates and metal flagons rattled and chimed as the impact of a hundred and twenty kilograms of towering northman rippled through the wooden floors, leaving everyone, especially the now-unconscious thug’s companions stunned. A single hit; a single, solid punch to the face from an adversary two thirds his size had left him unconscious, mouth bleeding and teeth loosened, and not in the condition to rise anytime soon.

  The floodgates were opened, and a tide of violence ensued after only the most momentary of pauses, and Sofia watched with growing excitement as the two thugs threw themselves at Kaius. Punches, kicks, grasping hands and even a thrown bottle was added to the twirling storm of violence as they fought, but it was entirely one sided. Kaius quickly proved to be as insubstantial as the air itself, evading blows, twirling and almost dancing between the two toughs, exchanging punches and kicks of his own while ludicrously holding onto his flagon. He was even going as far as taking sips from it as his opponents were left to pick themselves up from the floor.

  "Such a fine establishment, providing drinks and a show!" Slurred a man standing by Sofia's side. Like many of the others witnessing the obviously one-sided brawl, there were hoots and calls, exclamations of surprise, or praise for particularly impressive movements and strikes from Kaius, and winces of pain as his own struck home. Especially at one point where he dropped all pretense, and slapped the smaller thug across the cheek with his open palm with the sound of a cracking whip.

  "Oooh... That was a good one." Laughing at the sight of the thug picking himself up yet again while clutching a face already growing a red welt in the shape of a hand, the man at Sofia’s side lifted the bottle of potent smelling alcohol to his lips and took a massive draught. Judging by the rosy complexion and the fact that both eyes were struggling to focus, he had obviously started drinking several hours ago. "Your friend is one –hic- hell of a fighter."

  Even if she hadn’t fought alongside him for the past month, Sofia would have had to agree with the drunk’s statement, especially as Kaius flicked away a powerful right cross and headbutted his opponent in the face. By now, even to those least experienced in fighting there was no doubt that he was drawing out the fight for his own amusement. Sofia however was left increasingly uncomfortable as she recognised moves and skills that he had used for more violent and bloody outcomes than humbling a trio of nordic gangsters. Her own knowledge and perceptions of fighting allowed her to see which moves, that if were a bit more serious, would have sent both men to Aetherius to dine with their ancestors within seconds.

  Despite the darkness of her thoughts she couldn't help but enjoy the fight. Kaius's skill in most things appeared to be superb, and at one point he even danced around his attackers as though he was a Cyrodillic Nobleman at a ball twirling his partner. He alternated between throwing punches with his free hand, and kicking the armoured Nords' legs out from under them whenever the opportunity presented itself. It left both of the thugs increasingly infuriated, and the crowd growing louder and louder with laughter and applause.

  But, it didn't last forever, or anywhere near as long as what everyone would have liked. Within a few minutes and as the pair of Nords began to tire, Kaius returned to the offensive, battering his way through their defences and leaving them both out cold on the floor. One had tried to tackle him as he smashed his fist across the other fighter’s face, but Kaius had simply twisted aside, using both his and the semi-flying thug's momentum to help him along his way. The resounding thud of the last fighter smashing into the bar was felt through everyone's boots as he joined his comrades in blunt force induced sleep.

  "It is important for a warrior to be victorious." Kaius called out over the sudden hush of the crowd within the tavern, holding his arms out and turning slowly to look at the men and women standing around him. "But it is more important for the warrior not to spill his drink!"

  With a wicked grin that showed a mouthful of teeth, he upended his battered flagon into the tavern’s hearth, pouring the brandy that it still contained in a spluttering roar of flames and sparks. Throughout the whole fight he had not loosened his hold on his flagon, and judging by the amount that he poured out, not a single drop had been spilled either.

  This, Sofia realised, was something that truly ate away at her and was the only uncomfortable aspect about Kaius that niggled at her brain. He wore masks. He obfuscated his identity, who he was, how he thought, and every facet of his being was constantly being tailored to those around him. Surrounded by the natives of Skyrim, people who enjoyed a good fight and respected martial prowess, something as boastful and grandstanding as fighting against two assailants while drinking, was almost the epitome of their culture and they loved him for it.

  Perhaps, Sofia thought to herself, she would have felt more comfortable if he continued such a routine around her, wearing masks to influence and manipulate her. She had seen the way he subtly relaxed around her though. He spoke plainly even when a change of tone or the words he used could have manipulated her to his advantage. She was more than experienced enough with wearing such masks herself. To cloak her thoughts as easily as she cloaked her actions and body while lifting coins from someone’s purse, and that perhaps was the reason why the two of them had worked so well together. In each other, they had found something similar. A mirror that they didn’t need to conceal themselves to be around.