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When I returned to my chambers to prepare for the feast I found the dress laid out across the back of one of the chairs. It was a traditional Nord style, not at all what was considered fashionable by the empire. It was older, but no less beautiful. The fabric was a rich blue, with black leather laces up the front that would fit the dress to my torso, and the collar was lined with dark grey wolf fur.

I dressed quickly and twisted the top of my short hair back along my crown so it was back from my face. I scrubbed away all remains of the war paint I usually wore, leaving just some smudged charcoal around my eyes. With no other option to hide a weapon I slid a dagger into my boot. Ulfric promised friendship, but I had been fooled many times before. I wasn't about to step into a room full of Stormcloaks completely unarmed. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I felt very much alone in Windhelm and with a murderer on the loose I was taking no chances.

I stepped out into the main hall feeling incredibly self conscious. It was bustling with activity and festive cheer. I swallowed. I wasn't great in crowds or at parties. I usually depended on Mjoll to talk and mingle. She was great with strangers and often times would drag me along behind her as she worked her way through a room, completely enjoying herself.

A servant approached and offered me a goblet of wine, which I quickly snatched up. If anything it gave me something to do with my hands. I took a sip and someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned to face Ulfric and Galmar. Galmar was staring down at me as though he had never seen me. I didn't blame him, I didn't feel much like myself either.

I lowered the wine goblet and a slow smile spread across Ulfric's face. I fought the urge to squirm.

"Freyja," Ulfric greeted cordially but there was a knowing gleam in his eye as he looked my up and down.

I frowned, not catching on. It took me exactly ten seconds of looking around to realize the blue of my dress matched not only his banner, but also every Stormcloak in the room. Even the fur trim on the dress was the same silver wolf fur that made up his cloak. I was literally dressed to match his rebellion.

I scowled and he laughed. "Relax Dragonborn," he suggested taking a step closer to me so no one would overhear him use my title. "You should thank me. Now you may enjoy your evening. Everyone will simply assume you are the wealthy daughter of a loyal Stormcloak family sent here to woo me into marrying you." He chuckled.

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

Ulfric's face turned serious for a brief moment. "More than you would think," he replied gravely.

I stared up into his face, trying to decipher the fleeting moment of seriousness in his gaze before he got that infuriating knowing look once more.

"And none has successfully wooed you yet?" I asked unable to help myself. I tried to imagine Ulfric with a young, beautiful wife on his arm, but I couldn't see it. It wasn't that he wasn't handsome. He was in his mid-thirties, only a handful of years older than myself. Though older than most who did so, it was hardly too old to start a family. He was handsome and powerful, but for some reason I couldn't imagine the soon to be warrior king of Skyrim with some quiet, well-mannered aristocrat on his arm.

Ulfric's face changed into a roguish grin and raised my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it formally. "Not yet," he said with a teasing gleam in his eye. Then he moved on into the crowd and began conversing with several of the soldiers in attendance. Galmor nodded to me briskly and trailed behind his Jarl.

I blew out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and downed the rest of my wine. It was going to be a long night.

At dinner I was seated halfway down the table from Ulfric and the other prominent people of Windhelm. True to his word, in this dress, no one would have ever believe I was the Dragonborn by the way I was treated. Only Jorleif sat between me and the soldiers at the other end of the table which told the other guests I was no one of any importance. For their part both Jorleif and Ulfric were acting as though I was what I appeared; the daughter of a wealthy family sent to attend the feast. No one looked at me twice. It was a strange relief to not be the Dragonborn for the night. I couldn't remember the last time I wasn't the Dragonborn or the guild master. The mantle of responsibility seemed to follow me where ever I went. I had never been young and carefree.

When dinner was finished and the table cleared musicians started playing. People danced, mingled, and celebrated in the great hall. I don't know what I had expected, but it wasn't this. There was probably a hundred people in attendance, and over half of them were soldiers. It seemed Ulfric was true to his word. The night seemed to be just as he said, a celebration of his men. It lacked the pomp and circumstance I had assumed Ulfric would command of his subjects and instead was just a big party.

As the crowd stood and began to move away from the table to mingle I turned to the steward while we had a quiet moment.

"Jorleif," I said before he could move away. "Can you point out Viola Giordano?"

Jorleif nodded thoughtfully and turned to the room. He scanned the guests for a moment before he pointed out a middle-aged woman with graying blonde hair who appeared to be chasing after a tall dark haired man. "She's over there. Only reason she attended was to have a chance to dance with Captain Lonely-Gale."

"Lonely-Gale?" I asked.

Jorleif nodded. "He's a good man, do him a favor and ask your questions. Perhaps you can distract Viola long enough for him to escape."

I stood and strode across the room. Viola was just reaching out to touch the Captain's sleeve when I stepped in her way. She pulled back and narrowed her eyes at me before she took another sip from her goblet. Judging by her swaying she had already drunk a fair amount. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad for my questions.

"What can you tell me about The Butcher?" I asked. I didn't see any reason to beat around the bush. The whole reason I had agreed to this ridiculous party was to get answers. The killer was still out there.

"I've been following him for months now. Well not actually following, but trying to find him. The guards won't help, the people won't help, I'm the only one who thinks he can be caught," she said.

"I've been tracking him. I found a journal in the Killer's lair today," I told her, watching her face.

She looked genuinely surprised. "You?" she asked looking me up and down. She didn't look terribly impressed by what she saw. "You're tracking him? You found the killer's lair?" she asked in disbelief.

I suddenly realized the issue with Ulfric's plan to have me pose as the daughter of a wealthy family. It didn't lend me any credibility. I was small for a Nord, muscular but thin, and without my armor and cowl looked no different than most of the women attending the party. Of course Ulfric hadn't known I was going to use his party invitation to question people about the killer. So I couldn't necessarily blame him this time.

"Yes," I said defensively. "There's a killer on the loose, we have to do something," I said earnestly, hoping Viola would believe I was sincere and not push me for more answers. I honestly hadn't thought this through very well.

Viola stared hard into my face before she slowly nodded. "What's the journal say?" She demanded after a moment. She may not have believed I should be hunting the killer, but her curiosity won out.

"I only read through it once, but it sounds like maybe a Mage has been experimenting," I told her.

As far as I knew there was only one mage in Windhelm, but I wasn't entirely convinced it was Wuunferth behind this. That seemed too obvious. In the limited amount of time I had been around him he didn't strike me as the type to be sloppy. And this killer leaving his journals laying around was sloppy.

"Do you know of any other mages in the city?" I asked.

"It could only be Wuunferth," Viola said with certainty. "There's been rumors about him for years. He's a dangerous man, that's why they call him 'The Unliving'. I wouldn't approach him directly. Maybe go to the steward," Viola hiccuped then and took another sip of her wine.

"Maybe I'll do that," I hedged. "Enjoy your evening."

"Beware the butcher," she warned ominously. "He could be lurking around any corner," she hiccuped again and turned to try and find Captain Lonely-Gale once more.

I blew out a frustrated sigh. I hadn't really found out anything new from Viola. At some point I was going to need to speak with Wuunferth, but I didn't see him at the party. The dress didn't have any pockets so I hadn't brought the strange amulet with me to the party, but I didn't see Calixto anywhere in the crowd of people anyway. It seemed I was going to be making an extra trip to find him as well. I wondered how quickly I could slip away to his shop without seeming impolite.

I was distractedly searching through the crowd when a young man wearing a Stormcloak uniform approached. He bowed his head formally. "Are you looking for someone M'lady?" He asked.

"What?" I asked, surprised such a good looking young man would approach me. "Ah, no," I said lamely trying to come up with a reason I was searching the crowd that fit my reasons for being here.

I needn't have worried. The young man had already dismissed my answer. "In that case, may I have this dance my lady?" He asked, kissing the back of my hand.

He was good looking and his manners were polished enough to tell me he was probably from a wealthy family. Which meant he probably thought I was a suitable match. It was better to extricate myself from this situation before it became even more embarrassing.

I opened my mouth to pass but at that moment the door opened and a large group of soldiers came in to join the festivities. Among them was Ralof. He was the only one here who was likely to recognize me and ruin this. Sure there had been other soldiers around when he removed my cowl by the river, but no one would connect me looking like a drowned rat to how polished I was tonight.

"Of course," I said with a charming smile. "I would love to."

The young man was a good dancer and moved us around the dance floor effortlessly. He tried to engage me in conversation a couple times but I pretended to be shy and boring and he soon gave up. As we moved around the dance floor I kept half an eye on Ralof, who had taken a seat.

It took him less than a minute to find me on the dance floor. Our eyes met for a moment before I quickly looked away. I didn't want to see how angry he still was at me. It wasn't even necessarily that. I could handle him being mad, but it was the hurt and betrayal that bothered me. If it wasn't for my favor to Wuunfurth I would do us both a favor and leave Windhelm and make sure he never had to see me again.

The musicians changed the song to one a little slower and Ralof downed the last of his meed and moved as though he were going to stand and possibly cut in.

I noticed and my eyes widened in panic. There would be no escaping the uncomfortable conversation without making a massive scene. Just as I was debating bolting for the nearest door which happened to lead to the barracks someone else closed their warm hand around mine.

I Looked up in surprise to find Ulfric's ice blue eyes staring down at me.

"May I cut in?" He asked the young noble formally.

The young man practically tripped in his haste to back away from his Jarl.

"Of course," I agreed a little breathlessly.

Ulfric used a practice roll of his wrist to pull me against his chest and he rested a hand at my waist formally. Ulfric immediately started moving us and as we turned away I caught glimpse of a very angry Ralof.

"Thank you," I muttered. "That had the potential to be rather embarrassing."

"Indeed," Ulfric agreed. "Assuming he managed to not reveal your identity to the whole room, I had a feeling the discussion might become heated once more and make a bit of a scene."

I groaned. "I hadn't thought of that," I confessed. "I was just trying to stay away from him."

"You must have quite the history,"
Ulfric observed casually.

"It's only that, a history. He loves who he thought I was, not who I am."

Ulfric's gaze was intense as he stared down into my eyes. "And who are you?" He asked the question, but I didn't get the impression he actually expected me to have the answers. "Only the gods truly know us," Ulfric said seriously and it was more philosophical than I had ever given him credit for. "I imagine it would take Talos himself to unlock all your secrets."

Ulfric spun me gently in time to the music and we danced for a time in comfortable silence. I was surprised by how good of a dancer he was. I had only ever heard tales of Ulfric the warrior, the barbarian, the savior of Skyrim, the murderer, the ignorant, the cruel, the daring, The bear of Markarth...the list went on and on depending on who was telling the tales. This charming man seemed entirely out of character from what I knew of him.

"So how are your interrogations going?" He asked after a few moments.

I looked up at him in surprise.

He laughed. "Come now, you would not have come to our little celebration without good reason. I saw you speaking with Viola. I'm assuming it was not for her company."

I scowled up at him. "Someone has to find the killer while the rest of the city celebrates," I said accusingly.

"Indeed," Ulfric agreed with a nod. "Someone should."

The man was maddening. It was impossible to fight with someone who kept agreeing with me all the time.

"Your men certainly weren't," I added sullenly. I don't know why I was trying to get a rise out of him. Maybe because I didn't want to like him, and I did. I could see why people followed him and I didn't want him to fail. As dragon born I couldn't do that. I couldn't take sides. But there was something about Ulfric that, just for a moment, made me wish I could.

A shadow flickered across Ulfric's face, his eyes hardening for just a moment. It appeared I had stuck a nerve after all. "My men," he said pointedly. "Are little more than boys or old men. The capable soldiers have been sent to the front. I'm afraid there have been many failings in my city as a result of it. Those left are as scared of the killer as everyone else."

I opened my mouth to respond and snapped it closed. I didn't really have a response to that. Once again he was agreeing with me.

"You look beautiful," Ulfric observed, his tone casual as though he were simply commenting on the color of the sky.

"Don't try to soften me up or distract me." I snapped back sounding a little more petulant than I would have liked.

Ulfric snorted. "I'm not trying to soften you up Dragonborn. Merely stating fact," he said and his ice blue eyes were intense in their sincerity. "And I think if you look around you will find it is you who is distracting."

I looked up at him in surprise. The people of the court suddenly forgotten. He was staring into my face intently and I swallowed, suddenly incredibly unsure of myself. I wanted to wrap my arms around myself or go hide somewhere. I snuck a glance to the room around us and just like that the moment of intensity faded. He was right, of course, several of the soldiers were watching me.

"The dress becomes you," he continued and I felt the heat of a blush rise up my neck. I wasn't used to someone thinking I was beautiful. My femininity had taken a back seat to the things I had to do in my life.

"It's beautiful," I said. "I'm incredibly grateful Jorleif found it for me." I truly loved the dress. It was an older style, not something considered fashionable by the empire. It's bodice hugged my form and the leather laces marched up the front to the fur lined collar. The skirts flowed around me ethereally. "I've never worn anything so fine," I found myself telling him. I was embarrassed to admit that, but I wanted him to understand my gratitude for the gift.

"It was my mother's," he said and I remembered his father had been Jarl of Windhelm before him. Suddenly his manners and dancing ability made sense. Ulfric had been raised in the court.

"I-" I started to say. I couldn't comprehend why he would loan me something so precious. "It was very kind of you to loan it to me. It has been a long time since I was able to move so freely and not-" I stopped and looked away. I didn't want to say the words that had been weighing on me all evening.

"Be the Dragonborn?"
Ulfric asked. Once more he was too perceptive for his own good. It made me want to stomp on his foot. "The mantle of power is a burden few understand," he said gravely, then his face lightened and a ghost of a smile flashed in his eyes. "But now everyone will be wondering who the mystery woman is, but I don't believe any will be thinking you are the Dragonborn. Me dancing," he shook his head in disbelief. "it will be quite the conspiracy. It will keep the city buzzing with gossip for months."

"None of those women trying to woo you, got you to dance?" I teased gently. I don't know why I said it or what made me so bold to tease Ulfric. He had been my enemy only weeks before and was one of the most powerful men in Skyrim, but in my time in Windhelm he had shown me a truly human side of himself. I felt the need to repay that somehow.

Ulfric looked down at me, his intense blue eyes seemed to stare right through me. "No, not a single one," he said. The song ended and he took a step back. He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. When I looked surprised he flashed me a mischievous smile. "If we're going to give them something to talk about we might as well do it properly," he said and he winked before disappearing into the crowd.

Ulfric was right. People were very interested in the woman who had finally gotten their Jarl to dance. I was cornered several times and forced to make small talk, but it kept me occupied and prevented Ralof from cornering me. I wasn't completing my plan however. I was no where closer to catching the murderer. As soon as I was able to I slipped away up to my rooms.

I threw my cloak around my shoulders and shoved the journal and amulet in my pocket. Every hour that passed was another chance for the murderer to strike again. I practically sprinted down the stairs. I slipped through the door and stepped out into the night.

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