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His arms twitched and he let the arrow fly, the head embedding itself in the soil next to her feet. He may not be a hunter, but he knew how to aim.

“Drop your weapon and kneel,” he said again.

She complied, the smirk on her face not even flickering as she stabbed her dagger into the soil and kneeled, ignoring the blood of the boar that soaked into her pants.

“Throw the dagger here.”

“Do you want to be clearer with that order?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He kept his face blank, raising his own in turn. She relented at last, gently tossing the dagger a few feet in front of her.

“And your belt.”

She opened her mouth, as if to argue, but then closed it before unbuckling the belt and tossing it forward. He moved around her, checking her back for any other obvious weapons as he picked up the discarded belt and dagger and added them to his own weapon harness. He noted the supply of darts and another small dagger on the belt.

“If I search you, am I going to find any more weapons?”

“I don’t know. Will you?” she said, face blank.

“I already have you on enough charges to send you to the working farms. Why make it worse for yourself?”

“What, are you going to charge me with sass?”

“Harassment of a king’s soldier.”

She rolled her eyes but slowly brought her hand to her boot and pulled out a tiny dagger that was tucked there, throwing it across to him.

“That’s it,” she said, flashing him a bright smile that looked all the more horrific with the blood drying across her face. It cracked with the movement. “I promise.”

He didn’t take her word for it, switching out his bow for his dagger as he pulled her to her feet and swiped a hand across her body, brusk in his movements. He refused to acknowledge the curves and softness beneath her clothes, but he found no other weapons.

He turned her roughly, pulling down the strip of leather that served as her mask. The splatter of blood meant the clean skin left the impression of a mask behind, but with her face fully revealed he still didn’t recognize her. Not that he expected to, but her comment had unnerved him.You.

She did appear to be about his own age, now that he could see her full face, but her plain looks with her barely visible freckles against skin the color of clay was anything but remarkable. Her eyes though—he imagined he’d remember those eyes.

Shaking off his thoughts, he turned her around roughly, pulling her hands behind her back to tie them. He silently noted the missing finger on her hand and the faded brand on the inside of her wrist, a sign that this wasn’t the first time she’d flouted the king’s laws. He brushed his thumb across the brand before he covered it with ropes and grinned.

“If you wanted to touch me, you could have asked nicely.”

“If I wanted to touch someone, it wouldn’t be you. You smell worse than the dead pig.”

He pushed her away, wiping his hands on his pants to get rid of the feel of her skin.

A red blush crept up her neck and he took a moment to appreciate he’d finally wiped the smirk off her face. He pushed her forward with a jab of his bow, sending her staggering in front of him, back the way he’d come. He was happy the afternoon sun was visible through the thick foliage above, pointing his way back south to the city.

* * *

The graceshe’d exhibited in her fight with the boar was gone as they walked. She stumbled along, tripping over roots and branches with nearly every step.

“Stop falling,” he snapped after the fifth time having to catch her and pull her back upright.

“If you wanted me to touch you, you could have asked nicely,” he said, mockingly. She ignored the jab.

“Have you tried walking like this? It’s hard to stay balanced with my hands tied.”

“I suppose I could just untie you and trust you don’t try to stab me.”

“You have my weapons,” she replied as she looked at him with those unnervingly bright eyes, wide in feigned innocence. “Or are you scared of a defenseless Dragonborn?”