"My Jarl, there is someone here to see you," Falk Firebeard said respectfully to Elisif the Fair. "Someone I highly recommend having as an ally."
"Who is it, Falk?" the young woman laughed.
A young girl no older than seventeen ascended the steps with golden blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, tan skin scarred and burned, and hazel green eyes that could pierce the toughest of armors sheathed her sword. "Hello, my Jarl," she greeted, going down to her knee and bowing her head. "My name is Anna. I am the Dragonborn."
Elisif inhaled sharply. "Dragonborn? The General wasn't lying when he said that you were real."
"No, ma'am."
"What can I help you with, Dragonborn?"
"If you don't already know I am an Imperial. But I have lived in Skyrim all of my life and help others in any way I could, but now I am in need of a home in case there is someone who needs a place to stay until further accommodations are made. I will do anything you ask of me to have a home," she explained. She carefully glanced up to gauge her reaction.
A scoff of surprise escaped the older woman's lips before she could suppress it. "The Dragonborn has no home?"
"No, ma'am," she whispered. "When I helped people I would refuse their gold because I would be fine in the forests, but they had families to take care of. I only wanted them to be safe."
The Jarl's heart clenched in empathy. She could see the toughness in her eyes from years of distrust and fear. The Dragonborn had probably seen terrors even General Tullius could never even fathom. "Of course. Falk, give her the empty manor and have it fully furnished. Dragonborn, would you like to stay in my palace until it is ready?"
"I appreciate the offer, but I must speak with General Tullius about joining the Legion. I apologize."
"Do not fret," she giggled. "Farewell, Dragonborn."
The girl turned to leave but stopped before she reached the stairs. "It's Anna."
She nodded. "My apologies, Anna."