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I sprinted the remaining distance to where the priests of Talos slumbered. They roused to action slower than I would have liked but came without question. I would have paid them whatever they asked, but they never asked about coin. They simply dressed and followed me back to our rooms at Candlehearth Hall. They let me stay at first, but eventually my pacing and constant worry became too much even for the priest's endless patience.

And so I found myself sitting on the great stone steps of the city in the early hours of the morning waiting to hear if my friend lived or died. Staring up at the dancing auroras and the twin moons I replayed the dragon attack over and over. I scrutinized every move I made, where I should have been faster, stronger, better.

I was Dragonborn, but I was also a woman and a Nord, and I was small for both those things. My size had always been an asset in The Guild. I could get into tighter places, was harder to detect and moved more silently than any other thief I had ever met. When I found out I was Dragonborn I had to find a whole new way to fight, a way that compensated for my shortcomings and heightened my strengths. It was why I fought with two small swords instead of a greatsword or shield.

Mjoll and I had perfected our strategy long ago. We had fought together so long we could almost read each other's minds in a fight. So what went wrong? This was not our first dragon, nor in fact was it even our tenth. It hadn't even been a particularly powerful dragon. I racked my brain over and over again. Something had been different - where had I gone wrong? I had ignored my instincts, I knew that.

I was shivering, and it must have been going on for a while because I realized my jaw hurt from clenching it. I desperately wanted to lower my cowl and massage away the tension but the passing guards were showing far too much interest in me. My anonymity was what kept me safe, both as the Dragonborn and as the Guildmaster. There just weren't that many people walking around in Nightingale armor. 

The city gates swept open. I frowned as a fresh blast of cold air made me shiver once more. It was the wee hours of the morning, nothing good could be happening. I snaked my hand beneath my cloak to rest on the hilt of one of my swords. The enchantment hummed through me, temporarily driving away the chill. The last patrolling guard had passed seventy-eight seconds ago. But, as I was tightening my fist around the hilt I realized it was only a small squad of Stormcloak soldiers returning home. I went still as I recognized their leader. The tall, handsome Nord was unmistakable.

I hadn't seen Ralof sine we parted ways in Riverwoood - I couldn't remember how long ago. Over two years. I pressed the heal of my hand against my forehead. Two years since Helgen...

Ralof and I fought back to back to escape first Helgen, then the treacherous caverns below. We protected each other, fought for each other and eventually escaped. He invited me to travel with him to his sister's mill. There they took me in, fed me, clothed me and let me stay with their small family as long as I wished.

In the weeks we took to rest, heal and regain our strength Ralof taught me to fight. He taught me self sufficiency - something no one in my life had ever cared to teach me beyond the ability to lie, cheat and steal - those were my father's legacy. In the peace by the river I began to fancy myself in love with Ralof. We stayed up late into the nights, sometimes chatting until nearly dawn.

But soon, the outside world invaded my sanctuary. Someone needed to travel to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the dragons and once Ralof was well enough he became anxious to return to the war. He spent our last two days together trying desperately to convince me, once finished in Whiterun, to continue on to Windhelm and join the cause.

He and his sister's small family had shown me a different life than the one I knew, but I also knew I was not that person. I could not have imagined at the time willingly laying down my life for something as abstract as honor. Ralof fought for his honor, his land and his kinsmen. I would only ever fight for myself. I was not the woman for Ralof.

We said our goodbyes on the road. His normally easy smile was notably absent. He reached out and took my hand. It was the first time he had touched me outside of our combat practice. He laced his fingers with mine, giving them a small squeeze. "May the gods watch over you," he whispered and pressed his forehead to mine. I still remember he smelled of leather and fresh chopped wood, from his time helping at the mill. "I will meet you in Windhelm," he said with a gentle smile.

His smile made my chest hurt and I was such a coward all I could do was nod, knowing full well this would be the last time I saw him. I gave his hand a final squeeze and set off down the road.

I, of course, never made it Windhelm and I certainly never joined the Stormcloaks. It was not long after my arrival in Whiterun I discovered I was the Dragonborn and my life took a new path. When I hadn't been consumed by my new fate I found myself a new home and a new family plying my old trade in Riften.

Ralof's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was sending his men towards the Palace of the Kings to sleep in the barracks. His eyes drifted to me and I self consciously tugged at the edge of my hood, as though he could somehow recognize me beneath all the armor. He stared at me for a few minutes longer, then sent his men ahead and himself turned in the direction I knew to be the nearest guard. No doubt to inquire after the heavily armored, mysterious stranger sitting in the dark like a sentinel. I was normally so much better at blending than this, but between my exhaustion and worry for Mjoll I just couldn't bring myself to care.

I shivered as I released the hilt of my sword. I took in the snow covered stone structures of the city. Mjoll had always disliked Windhelm, claiming it was dreary and bleak. I never disagreed with her but there was something about the ancient stone walls that I loved. There was a quiet strength here beneath the snow and ice. The very heart of this city was stone and ice and because of that it had endured the test of time. Windhelm represented Skyrim herself to me. I loved it.

"Dragonborn."

I startled as priestess Jora's voice pulled me from my thoughts. She was standing in the doorway of the Inn, her soft golden robe blowing gently in the wind. I leapt nimbly to my feet and instantly regretted it as my overly frozen feet and legs protested both the motion and the impact. I was thankful my cowl hid my grimace and I stalked towards the priestess all drama and confidence. I had often found the Dragonborn persona to be exhausting, but Mjoll had been the one to first insist I adopt it. Like the cowl and hood it would allow me to move freely about as myself should I ever wish to without anyone being able to make the connection between the Dragonborn, Guildmaster, and slight Nord woman I appeared when I left the armor behind.

Jora stopped me just inside the door, closing it firmly behind me. She placed a gentle hand on my arm, halting me when I would have continued back towards our room. "She is very weak," she said in a bleak voice.

I frowned, not understanding and then remembered she wouldn't see my reaction behind the cowl. "Alright-"

Jora's look was grim and all of a sudden I found it difficult to breathe. The inn felt overly warm, and I needed to get the armor off. I was sure I had killed my best friend.

"We have done all we can. Recovery will be a long road."

My breath returned in such a rush that I felt light headed, almost giddy. "She will live?" I failed to sound like the Dragonborn. Instead my voice sounded small and scared even to my own ears.

Jora's look immediately softened and she laid a gentle hand on my forearm. "Yes Dragonborn. Your brave friend will certainly live, though it will be some time before she will be fighting dragons."

I nodded enthusiastically. I didn't care if Mjoll never fought another dragon as long as she would live.

"-making travel difficult."

I realized too late the priestess had continued speaking.

"I would recommend hiring a carriage to bring her home where she may comfortably rest and recover."

"How long before she is ready to travel?" I wanted to leave immediately. Despite Ulfric's assurance that I could stay, being in his city made me uncomfortable. Too many people viewed me as an enemy here and I didn't necessarily trust him not to change his mind.

"There is a particularly strong potion that would heal her enough that she could travel immediately...otherwise I would guess a week at least."

I knew how to mix a potion or two but I was no master alchemist. "The White Phial-"

Jora shook her head. "This is not something Nurelian will be able to help you with. It requires an enchantment. Here-" she handed me a small folded sheet of parchment. "Take this to Wuunferth. He will be able to get it for you."

I nodded, slipping the parchment into one of my pockets. I silently cursed up and down. Wuunferth lived in the Palace of the Kings and to my knowledge did not often leave.

"Dragonborn," Jora looked uneasy. She shifted from foot to foot and wouldn't look me in the face. "Be careful with Wuunferth the Unliving. He is very powerful and sometimes gold is enough. But sometimes it is not. He likes to be owed favors by powerful friends...and you Dragonborn are a very powerful friend."

I said my thanks and my goodbyes to Jora. She refused to take any of the gold I offered her so I resolved to leave a hefty offering the bowl at the alter before I left the city. I peeked in on Mjoll, but she was sleeping peacefully. The priests had patched and cleaned her up. The only remaining evidence of blood was what was left on her armor and mine. I sorted through our knapsacks and gathered all the things I thought a wizard would consider acceptable trade for his services.

After careful consideration I decided to leave my armor and the Dragonborn persona in the little Inn with Mjoll. It was still early enough in the morning I could slip out unnoticed and visit the Palace of the Kings as nothing more than a young Nord woman visiting the court wizard. I had plenty of gold and things to trade. I was confident I could conduct this transaction as simply Freyja. There was a chance Jora could help make the connection to me, but it seemed like a worthwhile risk. The young priestess had been exhausted and no doubt would not report to her Jarl until the morning.

Once more I slipped out of the inn this time wearing a soft blue dress I had bought years ago in Riverwood. The wind was cold and bit through the thin material but I moved with more confidence than I would have in my armor. I walked into the Palace of the Kings and no one stopped me. None of the guards even looked my way. I didn't waste any time looking around once I was inside. I moved straight from the main door to the upstairs passage. It was all I could do not to check to see if Ulfric was sitting on his throne at the far end of the massive hall. The passage ways were chilly as I moved to the end of the long hall where I knew Wuunferth's rooms to be. I was just about to knock on the door when it was swept open. I immediately dropped my gaze, so I would appear a sedate young woman.

"Wuunferth sir?" I asked, in a small voice.

"Yes, what do you want?" he asked briskly. I couldn't tell if he had just woken or if he had been awake all night. There was no evidence of the exhaustion I felt on his face.

Silently I handed him the parchment. The wizard took it without question and silently read the description. He refolded the paper and handed it back to me. "You can't afford this." Then he started to close his door.

I immediately stuck my booted foot in the door, preventing him from closing it. Wuunferth's gaze dropped to my foot and he stared hard at my boot before lifting his eyes to my face.

"I assure you, I can." I responded in a harder tone.

"Perhaps you can," and he stepped aside, opening the door and sweeping his arm out to usher me into the rooms. I stepped in and jumped as the door slammed hard behind me.

Trying to regain my composure I pulled out my coin purse. "How much?" I asked.

Wuunferth was still studying me, as though he were trying to figure out what I was. There was a cold knowledge in his eyes that made me want to be armed in his presence. This was a dangerous man. I was dangerous as well, but without my swords and armor I was also a lot more vulnerable. I silently cursed my armored boots that he was still studying beneath the skirts of my dress. I didn't have another pair of shoes and hadn't thought he would notice.

"Oh I'm not interested in gold." he rasped.

"I have things to trade as well," I said, my voice steady. I tossed a small satchel on the table. It was full of bits and bobbles I had collected during my latest journey's. I wasn't one for such things, but I hadn't gotten around to selling them off.

"Hmmm," the wizard said thoughtfully and stepped much too close. He circled me in a predatory way, slow and methodical and every instinct I had was screaming at me to attack before he did. I clasped my hands behind my back however and forced myself to hold. He reached for me, and I fought not to flinch back as his hands grazed my neck. I was revolted until I realized he was lifting the chain of the amulet I wore around my neck.

"The Gauldur amulet..." his voice was hushed and he leaned in closer to inspect it. I fought the urge to lean back away from him. "I had heard this had been found. Someone very powerful had been hunting the Gauldur story and found more than they bargained for..." he was way too close. I could feel his heat even through his worn grey robes and I wanted out of this room. There was something very wrong with this man. His greedy eyes lifted from my amulet in his fingers to my face. "Someone very powerful indeed."

"I don't know-" I started to lie but he cut off my words with a harsh look.

"I could feel the amulet's power through the door girl. You can't lie to me. So the question remains, who are you?"

I took a deliberate step back and he was forced to drop my amulet. I immediately felt the surge of magic as it came back into contact with my skin and I was able to breathe again being away from the creepy wizard. "I'm just someone who wants to buy that potion from you to give to my friend."

"Is that so, Dragonborn?"

I went cold. He must have seen my look because he wheezed out a laugh. "I have already heard the rumors that the Dragonborn was in the city, and that She went looking for healing aid in the Temple of Talos. My people also tell me that priestess Jora sent the Dragonborn to me...I must say I was not expecting you..." He looked me up and down now with a more critical eye as though he were measuring my mettle.

"I'm not really what anyone expects." I confessed.

He laughed again. "I would give this potion of yours to the Dragonborn in return for a favor."

I agreed without hesitation.

"But," he said poking a gnarled finger in my face. "I would need proof. You certainly don't look like the revered warrior..."

I thought for a while and finally settled on what shout to use. It would be neither disruptive nor have any real effect in the city. I was also a little concerned that a powerful wizard might somehow be able to use such knowledge and so I chose one of the safest shouts I knew. I pulled it forth to my mind and shouted Kynes Peace.

"KAAN DREM OV"

I watched first shock and then elation cross the wizards face. "Very well. A favored granted for a favor owed. Agree?" The wizard held out his hand. I couldn't help the feeling of dread that settled over me. I knew I would regret this favor I would owe him. He was powerful in his own right and anything he needed my help for would not be good. But I would do anything to ensure Mjoll's safety. Nodding I clasped his hand.

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