Chapter 2! For my one and only beloved stalker!

Do I have to disclaim again? Disclaim, disclaim.

Review please! I'm satisfied with "good" or "bad". Three or four letters, two clicks, that's not a huge effort.

Enjoy.

Val dismounted and took the deer from Olaf's back. First she took care of the huge one-eyed stallion, then she skinned her prey. A fine stag, she thought, Valga will… She was interrupted by a strong arm whirling her around and a kiss.

"Solaf!" she chided her husband. "I'm full of blood … and guts … and I don't even know what that is." But she smiled at Solaf, who just shrugged and kissed her again.

Their marriage had been a strange event. Although Solaf was a Nord and ex-Stormcloak and Valerie Salvarus an Imperial from Skingrad, they made a fine couple. Everybody agreed that they were practically made for each other (except Solaf's brother Bolund, a racist who spent the last three years drunken at the mill because he couldn't stand the "shame". But nobody cared for his point of view and he had a talent for spoiling everything.)

Val had come to Falkreath three years before and opened the "Dead Man's Mount" stables – obviously just for fun, because the sold horses could be counted on one hand. She and Solaf had slowly started courting, although most of the time was spent on persuading Bolund that not all outlanders were sent by Oblivion to destroy Skyrim. Half a year ago Solaf gave up and bought an Amulet of Mara.

Now the woman laughed. "You look like a butcher, do you know that?"

"Because you can't skin and gut a deer properly." Solar grinned. "But you're worth it. I love you, Val."

Her response was cut off by a familiar female voice that rose horrible memories stuffed in a dark corner of the Imperial's mind to new life: "Dragonborn!"

Valerie would have greeted almost every person who knew about her past friendly. Almost. Even Alduin the World-Eater himself was more welcome in the Dovahkiin's home than this woman.

"Delphine, shut up! I came here to have a nice peaceful – what happened to you?" The Blade, a Breton woman in her forties, looked like she had gone through Oblivion to get to Val. Her armour was bloody and torn and her left arm hung limp and useless at her side.

The blond warrior seemed to realise that there was another person present. Suddenly she drew a dagger and held it at Solaf's throat. The Nord seemed too confused to react. "Can you trust him?" Delphine hissed.

"By Akatosh, sheath your blade, you're threatening my husband!" When her order was fulfilled, Val sighed. "Now we can act as grown-ups. Delphine, this is Solaf, my husband. Solaf, I already told you about Delphine?"

The Nord nodded. He looked at the Blade curiously. "I think we should go inside. Val, you probably ought to take a bath, I can take care of Delphine's wounds."

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were properly washed and dressed. For the first time in a while, Val was grateful for the location of the stables outside the city. "Will they be suspicious if Grey Pine Goods stays closed?" she asked Solaf.

"There should be no problems."

"Good." The Imperial sighed and set down on a bench. "Delphine, why are you here? You know that I want a calm, quiet life without dragons or war or Blades. And who attacked you?"

The Blade was obviously more at ease. "After you forged a truce with the dragons" – the word sounded like "skeevers" – "the Blades fought the Thalmor. We killed messengers and mages, spied at the Embassy, you know." You should have done it, was Delphine's message. "A week ago our spy was found and executed, but in his last message he told us about a new kind of magic the Thalmor were preparing. Something that had to do with the Dwemer. I was attacked on the road to Falkreath."

Because you wear Blade's armour in broad daylight, Valerie wanted to say, but she held the words back. This was Delphine and there were not enough words in Tamriel to change her mind. "And now you want me to break into the embassy and get the information, right?" Delphine nodded. "And you think I want to go back to the good old times, slay a few dragons, burn all Thalmor?" Another nod. "And end the Civil War?"

"Stop mocking me! I would have asked someone else, but you have already been in the Embassy and you are the only available Dragonborn. Who else should go? Esbern?"

"There is a reason why I live in Falkreath. The only person who knows about my past is Solaf. Here I am a friend, a neighbour, a hunter. I go to the inn every day. But in Whiterun I have seen how the people treat the Dragonborn. I would be a hero and a warrior. Not a person."

Solaf just hugged her. He was not a talker, but he knew when she needed comfort. "I have lived in Falkreath for three years, but I don't know if it's enough."

Delphine didn't look impressed by Valerie's outburst. "Sometimes we have to sacrifice something for a greater good. If the Thalmor play with dwarven magic, just the Divines know what might happen to Skyrim. I have seen one of the metal creatures once. It killed three men. There are how many ruins in Tamriel? Forty? Imagine all these beasts coming out and wreaking havoc."

"Stop it."

"Let's say, ten creatures per ruin. This would mean four hundred ready to strike."

"Stop it!"

"This means one thousand two hundred dead people. And I have heard of bigger beasts which can kill ten or twenty-"

"I'll go, okay? If you swear to the Divine that you will leave me alone ever after…"

"Of course."