"Are you certain of this" , Jarl Balgruuf questioned the scout, at the edge of his seat, his fingers clenching the arms of his throne.
"There is no question my Jarl, the dragon lies dead atop the watchtower".
"Then Ireleth...?", the Jarl started.
"Yes my lord, the captain is alive, but I…I am sorry to report we have lost many good soldiers in the battle".
"I see...", Jarl Balgruff contemplated, running a calloused thumb along his bearded jaw while he gazed absently into the bonfire that lit the giant hall.
"It was to be expected, facing down a beast of legend...but they gave their lives for Skyrim, for Whiterun and its people...their sacrifice will no doubt see them honoured within the halls of Sovngarde."
The words sounded hollow to his ears, but he had no doubt they were true.
Such sacrifices were necessary. It was a truth he had long come to accept whether he liked it or not.
"But what of the Greybeards, you heard the summons, what could it mean?", The Jarl's brother, Hrongar stepped forward, the firelight playing on the large man's rugged features.
"Yes...indeed, Dovahkiin, Dragonborn", the Jarl muttered, again deep in thought.
"Dragonborn?", the scout interrupted the silence.
"Hm?", the Jarl looked up from his musing.
"My lord if I may"
"Speak freely lad", the Jarl insisted.
"Sir, while I did not see it myself, I was told the killing blow was dealt by a Nord woman assisting the guard".
"Frítha is alive then?", "Good...good, I worried I had sent that lass to her death"
"My Jarl there's more…", the uncertainty clear on the guard's face.
"Out with it then!"
"Sir, this woman, she...absorbed some kind of power from the dragon when it died, at least that's what they are saying".
The Jarl's eyes went wide and his mouth hung open at the mention of this.
"My Lord, I...I heard some of the guards call her Dragonborn", the guard added.
"Then its true!?", the Jarl practically jumped out of his chair, grabbing the young man by the shoulder.
"Where is she lad!?"
It was at that moment that the doors of Dragonsreach opened, letting in a blast of the cold evening winds.
A lone figure shuffled in, trudging in muddy footsteps.
Gerda, the old maid servant sweeping the floors, opened her mouth in annoyance upon noticing this. Her voice however, died in her throat upon taking in the Nord woman's appearance, as she passed.
Caked in mud and blood from head to toe, her cold stare barely visible beneath the tangled mess of matted, dark hair, covering her face.
The woman ascended the stairs to the throne room with slow and measured steps, before reaching the top. The Jarl squinting to see past the bonfire, finally recognizing the stranger.
"Frítha!", he shouted in disbelief hurriedly making his way towards the woman, the others following behind.
"By the gods lass, you look-..."
The Jarl had no time to finish his greeting as the woman's fist found its mark on his jaw, sending him reeling backwards into the meaty arms of his brother Hrongar.
"How dare you!", "Guards!", the Jarls advisor Avenicii shouted in disbelief, taking a step back himself when he noticed the woman's eyes on him.
Hrongar himself making a move to intercept the woman even as the guards drew their blades and closed in.
"Enough!". "Stand down!", the Jarl commanded, pushing passed his brother, restraining him and signalling the guards to back off.
Frítha kept her eyes squarely on the Jarl, even as she listened to the sound of sheathing steel all around her.
"That was the last favour I do for you, don't call on me again", Frítha hissed at the Jarl through clenched teeth.
She had wanted nothing more than to give the Jarl a piece of her mind, to shout at the top of her lungs until her throat hurt.
However that punch had exhausted all of her remaining strength. After the battle and the long trek back to the city, wounded and beaten, she barely had the strength stay on her feet.
Her body ached to its very core, and her mind was awash with images and sounds that she could barely focus on, or understand.
She opened her mouth to speak again as the Jarl approached her carefully, concern on his face.
She was at her limit.
Her vision blurred and her knees buckled.
She fell. Her decent halted by someone at her back. Her head lolling back allowing her to catch a glimpse of the dark elf before she lost consciousness.
Her eyes slowly blinked open, the world coming into focus around her. Cool winds washed over her skin invigorating her aching body.
She breathed deeply. She lay on her side, knees curled to her chest. The grass beneath, tickled her cheek.
Rolling unto her back, she was greeted with the most breath taking cerulean skies she had ever beheld. Her eyes wide at the splendor that overwhelmed her very soul.
Lifting a hand skyward, to the vast ocean, dotted with flecks of lustrous white clouds, she felt she would, at any moment, start falling into the infinite sky.
She belonged there, could almost touch it. The Cool winds danced between her fingers, her breath slow and steady, expression a mixture of unbridled wonder, longing and joy.
A child reaching for her mother's face.
Catching herself, Frítha retracted her hand and reigned in her emotions long enough to take stock of her situation.
Her shoulders were bare. A milky white, almost ethereal fabric wrapped around her, hugging her body closely. Her long dark hair, free and untamed as she lay on the soft grass.
'Where am I?'
"This place…", Frítha carefully rose to her feet. Her legs shaky and unsure.
She stood on a small island, suspended upon the winds of this infinite sky. The only sounds, the soft whisper of the wind in her ears, the rustling of the grass beneath her feet as she walked, and the fluttering of fabric that swathed her skin.
Closer and closer to the edge until she could just peer over without the threat of falling. There was no ground below her to be seen, only a sea of clouds.
"Where the hells…", she whispered, before a sudden blast of wind hit her, forcing her to back away from the edge. Her heartbeat racing at the close call.
She heard it before she felt it, the presence behind her.
"Drem Yol Lok", words she did not understand resonating through her chest before she realized what she stood face to face with.
Her breath catching in her throat, nothing more than a whimper escaping her lips, her eyes wide in shock as she staggered back towards the edge on uncertain legs.
Such was her fear that she did not consider the expanse of nothingness behind her. The Dragon's tail lashed out, catching her before she stepped off the island into the clouds below, effectively creating a wall at her back. She had nowhere to run, she felt the scally hide at her back as the dragon lowered its head towards her, its words resonating through her very core.
Kiir…child, Nonvul…noble, were the only words she understood. It mattered not, she could barely think through her terror. The dragon's head now no more than a foot away from her own.
Her knees finally gave out.
Collapsing on her heels, her back still to the beast's tail, she lowered her head and wept into her hands.
"Krosis",
"I forget you do not yet know our tongue"
"I am sorry child, I will not harm you"
It was really speaking, she understood it, her tears were beginning to subside, her ragged breaths beginning to calm.
"Lift your head, little one, where is that pride that you guard so well, the strength I admire"
Slowly, Frítha lifted her head and beheld the creature before her, a massive dragon with scales of golden bronze.
Unlike the dragon she remembered fighting however, this one had four limbs. Powerful legs ending in sharp talons the length of her forearm. Those talons dug into the earth before her as the creature rested on the solitary island with its long tail circling around behind her, walling her in.
Her fear was rapidly subsiding but she knew not why. She stared at the creature without malice, without fear, taking in every detail.
"There it is", the dragon's voice, powerful, yet calming. A talon extended towards her but she felt no fear.
'Was this the dragon's doing?'
Its razor sharp claw touched her throat under her chin, lifting her face a little higher.
"My child, strong, beautiful, fragile, you finally hear my voice".
Withdrawing its talon and spreading its wing, effectively covering half of the visible sky overhead.
She was now truly boxed in.
Not that she even entertained the thought of escape anymore. The gesture seemed more protective than anything.
"Who are you, what do you want with me?".
"What I want…..what I want…", the dragon repeated, seemingly in thought.
"I wanted to see you, as you are…speak with you, as you are, here at the threshold, the beginning of your destiny".
"Dovahkiin".
"Dovah…", Frítha mouthed.
"I've heard that word", she muttered under her breath
"The Dragonborn, is a myth, it's not real"
"I am not…", Frítha searched for the words.
"I don't want this…"
"It matters not whether you accept it or not, it is the truth, run from it if you wish but it will find you", the dragons voice rumbled.
"I will not go picking fights with those bea…dragons…", she corrected herself.
"There's nothing I can do that a trained soldier can't, they don't need me to be some…" she searched for the words but couldn't find it through her desperation.
The dragon regarded her for a moment, the sound of its breathing, deep and guttural.
"There is much you do not yet know little one, much about yourself, much about your destiny, do not be so quick to…"
"Then explain it to me"
"That is not for me to reveal, these questions as well as ones you have not yet the knowledge to ask will be answered in time."
"I'm dreaming aren't I?", her voice once again calm, leaning her head back in defeat, A swirling vortex of light, dominating a dark sea of stars overhead.
'When did night fall?'.
"You're no help at all", she sighed.
The low rumble of his voice, Fritha guessed, could only be a chuckle.
"I will tell you this".
"The child I see before me, will not survive this journey", Fritha narrowed her eyes at him.
"It is why I wanted to meet you, however briefly"
"I have watched you grow, I have watched you suffer, I have seen you rejoice. Now, finally, my voice has touched your soul."
"You can run for now, that is to be expected, but you will accept your destiny in the end".
"And when you do, this child will perish, in her place a woman will rise, I have seen her in you, fleeting glimpses in your times of suffering, heard her battlecry when your valour has been tested."
"It is this woman I will await at the end of your journey"
"Come find me, little one"
"My child,…Briimulkah"
With those words he brought his head close, nudging her cheek.
"What?"
"Wait!"
Everything went dark, and in its place, pain, thirst, exhaustion. Fritha slowly blinked her eyes open. The morning light peeked through the windows, a little too bright for comfort.
"Damnit…", she groaned.
Everything hurt, where the hells was she?
Fancy drapes hung down from the canopy over the bed, sheets of a fine fabric she could not identify covered her…
"Are you kidding me?", Fritha peeked under the covers, she was as naked as the day she was born. Save for the bandages wrapped about her body.
She held her hand up to the light, the bandage around her arm, dotted with spots of dark blood.
She was dreaming, or rather, she had been, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't recall anything about it.
She remembered cracking the Jarl across the Jaw, yet this wasn't a jail cell. The room was exquisitely furnished with carpeted floors and decorative paintings on the ceiling.
Grabbing a handful of the sheets and wrapping them about her body, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Intending to make for the door, but her body felt heavy, stiff, and her legs wobbled and gave out under her, sending her tumbling unto the floor in a crumpled heap and nowhere near the door.
She hit the floor with a muffled thud, cursing under her breath and brushing the tangled hair from her face when the door opened.
An old woman stuck her head in, Frítha recognised her as one of the Jarls servants.
"Oh dear child are you alright?", she asked, covering her mouth before running up to the tangled heap on the floor.
"What happened? you shouldn't be out of bed so soon", she chided.
"Where the hell are my clothes, lady", Frítha hissed at the old woman, covering her chest and trying to sit up.
"Your clothes?"
"Yes. My. Clothes…Where. Are. They?", she growled, stressing each word.
"Oh my, we had to throw those out, they were filthy and torn, not fit to be worn, not at all"
Fritha pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Gods damnit'
"Do you have anything I can wear", she asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could.
"Yes, yes of course, shall I go get some for you?", the old woman asked smiling politely, totally oblivious of the danger she was tempting.
"Yessss….please…",Fritha replied, a hand on her forehead.
The old woman promptly got to her feet and headed out the door, "I will let the Jarl know you are awake dear", she called back.
"What?!"
"No!", she shouted scrambling to the door, thinking twice before bursting into the hallway. Instead opting to close the door, and stumble back to the bed, taking a seat at the foot of it.
Fritha sighed, running a hand through her hair.
She was still within the walls of Dragonsreach, that much was clear.
Rays of light from the morning sun peaked through the windows and danced on her cheek. She lifted her hand and watched the warm light play on her dirty fingers.
Whoever cleaned her and dressed her wounds did a rather half-hearted job of it.
'You survived again with everything intact, that was no small feat', she smiled to herself.
She closed her eyes and let the scattered memories of the previous day play in her mind.
"Dragonborn….right…", she scoffed.
There was a light knock at the door before it opened ever so slightly.
"Lady Frítha, may I come in?", it was the Jarl's voice, no question.
"No, don't!", she shouted, scrambling to the door, stopping it before it opened fully.
"Are you well?", he asked, the door between them.
"I'm fine, leave me be".
"Please I only wish to speak with you".
"My lord, what are you doing, the young lady is in no state for visitors",it was the old woman's voice.
'About time'.
"Please wait here my Jarl, if you would", the old woman instructed before slipping past the door.
"Here you are dear, give these a try", the old woman smiled handing a small bundle to her and nodding to the makeshift screen by the window.
Fritha nodded and hurried behind the screen, dropping the sheets and giving the cloth top an appraising look.
"My lady we must speak", the Jarl barged in, a hand briefly shielding his face until he was sure it was safe.
"My Lord please, you can't be in here", the old woman pleaded.
"It's fine", Fritha called from behind the screen.
"If you want to talk then talk, you have until I'm done changing", she stated flatly, trying to pull on the pair of cloth pants.
"Gerda, leave us", the Jarl ordered.
"I will not, this is highly…"
"Now woman!".
The old woman held her tongue and walked out the door in a huff.
The Jarl sighed, scratching his beard, glancing at the woman's silhouette on the screen.
"I wanted to apologize, my Lady, I should not have sent you to face that beast".
"I thought…with your success in securing the Dragonstone and…"
"…I was desperate, you can understand, yes?.
"You seemed a capable woman, my lady, and anything I could do to increase our chances of victory…"
"Drop the lady, my name is Frítha, and as for the dragon…", she paused.
"It's dead now, we won, your hold is safe, Jarl".
"I apologize for striking you, but as far as I'm concerned we're even now".
"Let's just forget this ever happened", Fritha grunted, trying to lace the stubborn trousers at her hips.
"Forget?!"
"How can you say such a thing?!"
"You are Dragonborn, my soldiers saw it with their own eyes, even the Greybeards have summoned you!"
"Who?", was all she said
"The Greybeards, masters of the way of the voice, they live in seclusion high atop the throat of the world, and they have sensed you"
"Did you not hear them summoning you, did you not hear the mighty th'uum that shook the hold?", he asked incredulously.
"I didn't hear a damn thing, and by the nine, why would I even consider climbing that gods forsaken mountain!".
"They can help you woman!"
"They can help you reveal your destiny, help you to hone your gift!".
"With the appearance of these dragons, we are going to need every weapon we can get, and you child, are Dragonborn, you were born to exterminate these beasts!".
"I can scarcely believe it myself, but it can't be denied!".
"The Greybeards can kiss my ass", Fritha stated flatly.
"Godsdamnit…", she growled.
The clothes seemed to be made for someone a few sizes smaller, either that or a male, because it threatened to burst at the seams in the most inconvenient places, with the slightest movement.
A few more curses under her breath as she struggled to remove the garments before grabbing the sheet from the floor and throwing it over herself.
She just needed to make it to the Bannered Mare, she should have enough coin in her room to buy some cheap clothes, hopefully.
"Find someone else to play Dragon slayer", Fritha stalked past the man, but he grabbed her by the arm.
"Don't be stupid child!", the Jarls feigned civility faltering, if only a little, and Frítha had the rising urge to strike him again. She clenched her fists and glared daggers at the man.
"This is not something you can walk away from, Whiterun needs you, Skyrim needs you!"
"These are dark times. With the civil war growing, and now these drag…"
"Enough!", Fritha yelled, wrenching her arm from his grip.
"I am done!"
"I am walking out of here, unless you want to place me under arrest, and let me just say you'd be in for one hell of a fight if you decide to go down that route", Frítha seethed.
"Stay away from me!", and with that she turned and stalked out of the room.
"Are you alright my lady?" one of the guards asked as she entered the main hall, the sheet bundled around her and dragging on the ground just past her heels.
"I'm fine" she muttered, increasing her pace, trying to ignore the stares she got.
Truth be told, a strong wind could have probably knocked her over right now, she hadn't realized it before, but she felt weak, especially now that her anger was beginning to subside. Her body ached, and she was almost unbearably hungry, but it was nothing she wasn't used to by now.
Nudging open the large doors of the hall with her shoulder, she finally tasted the cold morning air, mixed with the soft warmth of the rising sun as it peaked through the rafters of the bridge.
The wood was cold under her bare feet. No matter, it was bearable.
'I must look like quite the vagrant'
'Aren't you?'
Her hair dirty and unkempt as it tumbled over her face, which she could imagine was still a little muddy from the battle.
She kept walking, not paying attention to the world around her, the cold wind on her face, the cold stone under her feet, her mind was blank as she walked, eyes on the ground.
Still it surprised her when she walked into someone from behind.
"Watch it!", the voice snapping her out of her daze.
"Sorry", she muttered, keeping her head low and moving past them.
"Fritha?"
The sound of her name on familiar lips stopping her, she turned to face the one she'd bumped into.
"You're…Aela?", she asked, squinting against the harsh morning sun.
Aela stared at the woman in shock, she almost didn't recognize her.
Her feet bare, her face marred by dirt, her hair tangled and filthy.
She smelled of mud and ash and….blood. The scent lingered on her, even huddled behind the bedcovers around her shoulders she could smell it.
"Fritha, what happened girl?", Aela approached her, concern and shock plain on her face.
"Are you alright?" she asked placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, looking beyond the tangled mess of hair into those beautiful amber eyes, their light dimmed with exhaustion and...
Fritha stared at the older woman through unfocused heavy lidded eyes. Genuine concern and sympathy, when had she last seen someone look at her like that?
She couldn't help it, she didn't know why, but she felt her stony mask break, felt the sudden sting of tears as she buried her face in her covered hands.
Aela pulled her in and embraced her, not knowing what else to do and cursing herself for it.
"Sorry", Frítha apologised, gently breaking Aela's embrace, wiping her eyes with her covered hands.
"Didn't mean to..to…", she was clearly, embarrassed.
Aela searched her eyes, even as Frítha avoided hers, her concern still evident.
"What happened? they said you were staying at Dragonsreach", Aela looked to the looming structure at the top of the stone staircase.
"I heard about….about the dragon at the watchtower"
"I've been hearing a lot about you these past few weeks…are you alright?"
"I'm Fine", Frítha replied, managing a weak smile before turning to leave, but Aela's hands on her shoulders kept her in place.
"You don't look fine"
"I said I'm alright!",she batted Aela's hand away. Her outburst surprised herself more than Aela.
"I'm sorry …Aela, I didn't mean…sorry, I need to go", Fritha hung her head in apology, before once more turning to leave.
"Wait!", Aela called grabbing her forearm over the sheet and eliciting a pained whimper from the woman.
"You're injured?"
"It's nothing", she replied, cradling her arm, and for the third time she turned to leave, but Aela stepped in front of her, cutting her off.
"Wait!"
"Come with me", Aela offered her hand and a warm smile. "Please".
"Where…?", Frítha took her hand almost unconsciously.
"Jorrvaskr, you need a bath and something to eat, I will tend to that arm as well".
Frítha shook her head, about to protest and tried to retrieve her hand but Aela held firm.
"I will not take no for an answer girl, you're coming with me if I have to carry you kicking and screaming", she insisted firmly.
"Better yet, I'll have Farkas do it", she reconsidered, her gaze shifting over Frítha's shoulder.
"Do what now?", came a man's voice behind her, and Frítha turned her head to see another familiar face.
"Hey I know you. What was it, Frítha right?"
Frítha nodded.
"Hello again", was all she could utter.
"What happened to you, you look like sh…"
"Farkas…", Aela inturrupted
"What?", he asked, clueless
"Frítha's coming with us"
"Really?"
"Glad to hear it, I think you'll fit right in", he smiled, turning towards the steps of Jorrvaskr.
"I got the venison but it cost more than you said, don't look that fresh either", he called back to Aela walking up the steps.
Aela sighed, she would have to go hunting again, their stores of meat were starting to dwindle and she could barely stomach the garbage they tried to sell in the market quarter.
Frítha jumped when Aela put a hand around her waist and nudged her towards the stairs.
"Come girl".
Frítha stretched in the long wooden tub, a groan of contentment escaping her lips. The warm water felt amazing.
"Frítha, I'm coming in", Aela called from behind the door before entering.
She sat up as the older woman entered, covering her chest.
"How are you feeling", Aela asked walking over to her and kneeling next to the tub.
"Much better thanks", she replied, sinking a little bit deeper into the bath.
"We'll have to do something about this", Aela informed her,gathering a few stray locks of her hair, her fingers brushing on Frida's face, causing her skin to flush in embarrassment.
Her hair was singed in a few places.
Fritha tried her best not to look the woman in her eyes, instead opting to count the bubbles in her bathwater.
"Let's see that arm",Aela insisted.
"What?".
"The wound on your arm, let me see it".
Fritha thought a moment, then presented her left arm after making some adjustments.
She felt uncomfortably exposed, vulnerable. She clenched her jaw, not trusting her voice.
"A nasty injury", Aela inspected the wound, cupping a handful of water and pouring it over her arm.
"Does it hurt?", she asked, Frítha shook her head 'No' in response.
She couldn't help but smirk at the shade of red on the younger womans face.
Her gaze lingering briefly on her chest and the losing battle Frítha's other arm was fighting to contain it.
She knew she was making the young Nord uncomfortable.
Releasing Frítha's captive arm, she stood. "Stay in the water a while longer, the tincture I put in it should help with the cuts and bruises"
"I'll tend to that arm when you're done".
Fritha nodded, still averting her eyes from the older woman.
"I've left some clothes for you on my bed and there's food on the table", Aela added, and turned to leave.
"A…Aela?", Fritha called, finally looking at her.
"Hm?"
"Thank you…"
Aela smiled and nodded before grabbing the discarded sheet form the floor and leaving the room.
Aela leaned on the door for a moment. The girl looked so vulnerable ever since she bumped into her on the steps of Jorrvaskr.
She remembered their first meeting outside the city. The way she moved, the way she fought, every move calculated, powerful, steady and sure. The strength and warmth in her voice.
The girl seemed lost now, unsure. The stories she'd heard from Kodlak and the whispers of the city guards these past few weeks, if they were to be believed, meant Frítha had been through so much in this short time.
A battle with a dragon even. This talk of her being a Dragonborn.
The tales among the guard told of how a Nord woman drew the beast into single combat atop the western watchtower and slew the beast herself, absorbing its soul.
She'd definitely believe that of the woman she'd met on the outlying farms of Whiterun, all those weeks ago.
Maybe not the part about absorbing the dragon's soul.
The woman in the room behind her however…
To be sure, Aela had lost no respect for her, after all, she'd gotten a taste of what the girl was capable of first hand.
Seeing her now, in this state, she felt an overwhelming desire to protect the girl.
No doubt the Jarl had tried to use these rumors of her being Dragonborn for his own ends.
Still, why would he let her leave Dragonsreach in that condition?
Her anger rose at the thought of the Jarl using Frítha like that, these past few weeks, and then throwing her out.
Of course she wasn't sure if that was what had happened, she'd been avoiding questioning the girl about it since their meeting.
Maybe she could get her answers from the Jarl himself and give him a piece of her mind while she was at it.
Aela hurried up the stairs to the mead hall. Frítha would be fine until she got back from Dragonsreach.
A brawl had broken out between two of the newer members, the hall was filled with cheering and laughter as the two went at it. Aela scoffed as she skirted the crowd and made her way to the door.
"Aela", Kodlak stood by the doors with a Nord woman adorned in steel armor, her face looked familiar. Where had she seen her before?
Aela nodded to the old man and reached for the door.
"Where are you going child?"
"Dragonsreach", Aela stated, unable to keep the irritation from her tone, she instantly regretted it however and flashed the old man an apologetic look.
"I thought as much, I understand how you feel girl, but that will solve nothing".
"I don't care! , didn't you see her?"
"She was bleeding, filthy and barely clothed, and the Jarl just kicked her out!"
"What kind of a…"
"The Jarl did not kick her out", The Nord woman interrupted Aela.
"With respect, I was told Lady Frítha left of her own accord", the woman added with a small nod of her head, never breaking eye contact.
Aela scowled at the stranger.
"Then he did something, or said something to make her leave, he might just as well have thrown her out!"
"Aela!" , Kodlak interrupted
Aela glared at the other woman, but held her tongue.
The woman's stoic calm irritating her further.
"I have just spoken with the Jarl myself, it was simply a misunderstanding", Kodlak explained.
"Hmph!, you really believe that?", Aela growled, never once taking her eyes off the woman.
"It matters not, the Jarl holds no ill will towards the girl, and it would do no one any good to antagonize him over this any further", Kodlak explained.
"Let it be, girl".
He was right, she knew it. Kodlak and the Jarl had a mutual respect for each other, she wouldn't go so far as to call it a friendship, but they were on good terms.
It wouldn't do to jeopardize that goodwill.
Aela ground her teeth, but visibly relaxed.
"Good", Kodlak nodded.
"Now then, this young woman is Lydia, she was sent by the Jarl and says she has business to discuss with Frítha"
"Business?", Aela raised an eyebrow at the woman.
"What business?"
"I am to address Lady Frítha directly, will you take me to her", Lydia stated, her voice almost drowned out by the cheering crowd behind them.
"No", Aela stated flatly, folding her arms.
Kodlak grunted but remained silent.
Lydia looked to Kodlak and then back to Aela, unsure of how to respond.
"Then point me in her direction and I will find her myself"
"You're not going to see her, anything you have to say, you can say to me", Aela explained.
"I'll be sure to give her the message when I see her", she added with a hint of sarcasm.
The twitch in Lydia's eye the only thing betraying her irritation. Despite that however, she kept her composure and bowed her head again at Aela, which once again only served to irritate her further.
"Very well", Lydia began, her voice cool.
"I have been asked to inform the Lady Frítha that the Jarl has granted her the title of Thane".
Aela's eyes narrowed at the woman.
"Jarl Balgruf has also assigned me as her Housecarl"
"Housecarl? , You?", Aela scoffed.
Lydia ignored her taunts and reached into the pouch at her side, fishing out a scroll that she handed to Kodlak.
"The Jarl has also granted her the deed to Breezehome, the empty house ne…"
"Like hells he has!". Aela sputtered.
"Kodlak, you can't seriously…"
"It's all legitimate it seems", Kodlak replied, scanning the scroll.
"That's not what I…" , Aela felt her anger growing and took a deep breath.
"He's trying to buy her favour, he even sent this one to keep an eye on her!", Aela pointed to Lydia who remained unfazed.
"My primary duty is to protect her, once her identity as the Dragonborn spreads, it is not unreasonable to assume that she may be targeted by those wishing to use her or do her harm".
"Besides your esteemed Jarl I take it!", Aela spat.
"Aela that is enough!", Kodlak commanded.
Aela brushed past Lydia to lean on a nearby post, facing the backs of the cheering crowd. She folded her arms and seethed.
Farkas noticed the commotion over the crowd and made a move towards Aela only to be waved off by a slight nod of her head.
He stood for a few seconds frowning at the unfamiliar Nord woman at the door before taking a seat and returning his attention to the brawl.
"Sir, I will be back tomorrow to see the Lady Frítha, if you will allow it".
"She is not interested in your-", Aela growled.
"This is is all up to the young Frítha to decide", Kodlak cut her off. "We will inform her of everything you've said and you may speak with her on the morrow if she decides to meet with you".
"Thank you sir", Lydia bowed to Kodlak, glancing briefly at Aela before exiting through the large wooden doors of the mead hall.
Notes :
This Fic, or rather, the first two chapters are a few years old. From here on out it's all new so you may or may not notice a difference in tone or style.
For all you lore buffs, I know I've probably slaughtered the dragon language, so feel free to correct me if I've made any translation errors lol.