Rowena kept her hood securely up as she and Ralof entered Windhelm. And it wasn't because of the cold. She unsurely followed him across the bridge, and towards the gates. The guards there greeted him with a laugh; saying how glad they were to see that he made it out of Helgen alive after hearing the tale spread around by the other soldiers.
When their eyes fell on Rowena, they started to frown. She tried to keep her head down so that they wouldn't pay much attention to her. Ralof didn't notice this, and continued into the city, with her hot on his heels.
She followed him towards the Palace, passing by more guards who greeted Ralof and frowned at Rowena. Together they entered the Palace of the Kings, and the Bosmer looked around in wonder. It was truly beautiful.
She looked to the front of the room where he sat. The man she was here to see. Ulfric Stormcloak. So he had survived. She hadn't doubted it for a second. The man wasn't the potential High King for nothing.
The Jarl looked up from his gaze on the floor when he heard the door open. When he saw Ralof, a smile almost showed.
Rowena and Ralof made their way towards the throne, and Ralof instantly kneeled, but had to tug on Rowena's cloak to get her to do the same. She'd never been in the presence of a Jarl before. She didn't know what to do.
"Rise," came Ulfric's deep voice.
Oh gods, Rowena thought, maybe this isn't such a good idea.
"I'm relieved to see that I didn't lose one of my best men in Helgen," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on Ralof, "How did you escape?"
Ralof relayed the tale, and once or twice, Ulfric's eyes flicked over to Rowena; who stood in complete silence, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.
"So what's your story?" Ulfric asked once Ralof had finished speaking, his eyes falling on the Bosmer, "Why have you come to Windhelm?"
She looked up at him finally.
"I wish to join the Stormcloaks," she said.
He watched her for a moment before looking to the Nord beside her.
"Leave us," he said to Ralof, who, after giving Rowena a supportive smile, turned and went into the war room.
"So," he said, sitting back comfortably in his throne, "Why does an elf want to join the ranks?"
She took a deep breath. Alright Rowena, don't fuck this up. "Because Skyrim is the only home I've ever had. I've seen the damage that the Dominion can do, and I don't want that happening here. And after what happened in Helgen; I've lost what little faith I had in the Empire. I don't want to be part of an Empire that executes men without a fair trial first… and…" She let out a sigh. Those weren't the real reasons. They were true. But not the ultimate reasons. "Ralof saved my life in Helgen. Without him, I'd be dead, and no one would remember me. He put himself in danger to save me, even though he didn't know me. I wish to repay that debt to him." If she was being completely honest now, she might as well tell him the rest of it. "I have nowhere else to go; nothing left to lose. So I want to fight for the one thing I have left; my home."
He was completely silent, watching her with those green eyes, feeling like she was having her entire soul being laid out before him and examined. She held her breath, waiting for his response.
"With spirit like that, I'd gladly welcome you in the ranks," he said, "But I must ask; are you at all trained in combat?"
She nodded, "I'm a good shot with a bow."
He nodded slowly, looking like he was expecting that answer, "A good markswoman never goes amiss. Report to Galmar and he'll see if you're worth anything. Good luck, Bosmer."
"Thank you, my Jarl," she said, bowing low.
He gestured to his left, so she turned and walked into the war room. Ralof was stood over a table with a map pinned to it, with an older Nord warrior by his side in the bear armour that she knew only the highest ranking Stormcloak soldiers wore.
Her friend smiled at her, "What did he say?"
She returned the smile, "He said I can join … but I have to report to… Galmar first."
The older Nord looked up, "So… you're the newest recruit, hm?" he asked in a gruff, growling voice.
She nodded, "Yes, sir." If she was going to be a soldier, she was going to have to start acting like one.
He raised an eyebrow, "We'll see about that… can you handle any weapons?"
"A bow, sir," she said.
The eyebrow raised further, "Anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Thought as much," he grumbled. He glanced over at Ralof, who got the hint in the Nord's eyes and left the room, giving Rowena a supportive pat on the shoulder as he passed her.
Galmar stood up a bit straighter from where he was leaning on the table. "But, if Ulfric and Ralof think you're worth something, then I should give you a chance. It's not often that they're both wrong." He stepped a little closer to her, "But it doesn't mean that I'm going to just let you prance right into the top position because you survived a dragon attack and you've buddied up with Ralof… I'm going to be straight with you. I don't trust you, elf. A Bosmer wanting to fight for a Nord cause… it's unheard of. It hardly makes sense. So I'm going to be watching you closely. One slip up, elf, just one, and you're out. And if you even attempt to betray us… well, I think you're intelligent enough to understand what happens then. Do I make myself clear?"
She nodded slowly, trying to avoid eye contact with him in case he decided to kill her there and then, "Yes, sir. Crystal clear, sir."
He smiled, "Good, I'm glad we cleared that up. Now I suggest you get some rest. You start training tomorrow at dawn." He turned and headed for the door, "Go and see Ralof down in the barracks, he'll find some armour for you. It'll probably be too big, but perhaps some training will put some muscle on your bones."
He went through the door and up the stairs, the door swinging shut behind him. She let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding in, and felt her body physically relax. She headed out of the war room, and found her way to the barracks.
Ralof was sat on the edge of one of the beds waiting for her. He leapt to his feet when he saw her, "You survived Galmar then?"
"Barely," she chuckled, "He said he's going to be watching me closely."
Ralof waved his hand, "Ah, ignore him. He told me that too. Didn't think a simple mill worker from Riverwood could ever become a fully fledged soldier. And look at me now. My last mission was escorting Ulfric himself."
"Great job of that by the way," she laughed, "Managed to get yourselves captured, and near enough on the chopping block."
He glared playfully at her, "Oh shush. You know what I mean." He grabbed a pile of material off of the bed beside him, "Here," he handed it to her, "Got you some armour."
She smiled as she took it from him, and after he turned his back, she got changed into it. It hung off of her. It had been altered a bit anyway to fit a woman, but these were designed for Nord women. When Ralof glanced back around, he held in his laughter.
"It's a tad big," he pointed out.
"You think?" she laughed, holding out her arms, and showing how much extra material there was around her body.
"We can get it taken in tomorrow. You should get some rest now. Your first day training is always the hardest."
She nodded, then found a spare bed. She removed her tunic and boots, and slept in her undershirt and trousers. She fell asleep with ease.