Two guards stood before the gate of Riverwood, cautiously watching Wulf, Ralof and Hadvar approach. It was unusual to see two apparent supporters of the Empire (given Wulf's armour) and a Stormcloak walking together, and into a town together too. The guards moved forward to intercept them.
"State your business."
Wulf answered them steadily.
"We've just come from Helgen, we need to resupply. I also have reason to believe that these two men live here."
The guards looked at Hadvar and Ralof closely.
"By the Gods, it's Hadvar and Ralof!" They laughed. "It's been a while since we've seen you two! Always together, now on opposite sides of the war! Say, why are you all so dirty? Got in a scrap, eh?"
Ralof nodded, groaning and feigning injury. Hadvar spoke up.
"We got into a bit of trouble just outside Helgen. Wulf here helped us get out."
The guards nodded.
"Looks like Ralof needs a healer, we'll open the gate right away."
After they had passed the guards, Ralof slowly stood back up. Wulf was quite impressed, she knew Ralof wasn't injured, but his acting was quite good. Perhaps his skills extended further than simply combat. She looked around the village. The timber houses looked deceivingly frail beside the short stone walls around the village. Weathered walls leaned against carved tree trunks, the pillars holding up the houses from their stone foundations. Wulf liked Nordic architecture. It was sturdy, even if it looked breakable. After all, it had to survive Skyrim's winters. Ralof and Hadvar were deep in discussion as Wulf looked at the intricate carvings on the pillars of the house they stood before. Hadvar tapped her on her shoulder.
"We've decided that we should split up. After all, it's not a good look for either of us considering our alleigances. Come with me, we can rest up at my Uncle's."
Wulf considered this.
"So, where's Ralof going?"
Hadvar's eyes shifted to the side.
"He's going back to the Stormcloaks in Windhelm. I don't like it, but it is his choice." He sighed. "I guess he wants to repent for what happe-"
Hadvar was interrupted by Ralof, who had begun to walk over to them during their conversation.
"I want to serve my Jarl, and help Skyrim become free again." His voice was cold and stony. "It's what I must do, for Talos."
The look in Ralof's eyes sent a shudder down Wulf's spine. Where had he gone? Even Hadvar looked almost scared of Ralof, trying not to look him in the eyes. This may be the last time they saw one another, and then they might still have to fight against each other in battle. They should have been shaking hands, agreeing to both fight bravely. But they were standing alone together. Hadvar shrunk into his armour, clearly uncomfortable with Ralof's tone. Ralof stood upright, yet his eyes were dull. His pride was gone. Wulf put her hand on Ralof's shoulder and spoke.
"Ralof."
His eyes sunk into his face, like two blue stagnant ponds. She tried pry them open, digging for the Ralof she met only hours ago.
"Thank you." She smiled. "For unbinding me, and for helping Hadvar and I get through that cave. We couldn't have done it without you."
He grunted. She spoke again.
"I wish you the best of luck, may the Nine be with you." She smiled once more, and Ralof stared into her eyes, a deep sadness beginning to emanate, water almost spilling into of his eyes. Pulling away from Wulf he mumbled a thank you and quickly turned away, hastily making his way to the other side of the village. Hadvar followed him for a few steps but Wulf stopped him. Where Ralof was going, Hadvar could never follow.
Hadvar's uncle, Alvor, was a jolly man well into his fifties with a rather large brown beard. He sat at the table across from Hadvar, listening to him recount the dragon attack on Helgen. They had only been in the house a few moments before Alvor asked how Wulf and Hadvar knew one another. The second Hadvar had mentioned the dragon, Alvor was fascinated. He watched Hadvar talk with childlike excitement, his eyes brimming with the story Hadvar was weaving. Only after Hadvar was finished did Alvor realise that Hadvar was telling the absolute truth. He turned to Wulf. He had a thick accent, and his voice almost bounced as he spoke.
"So, you saw the beast too?"
Wulf nodded and went to speak, but Alvor cut her off, almost speaking to himself.
"We'll need to tell the Jarl, if there's really a dragon on the loose. By the Eight, I thought they were just legends made to scare us ordinary folk." He looked to Hadvar. "Hadvar, can you go to Jarl Balgruuf?"
Hadvar shook his head.
"I need to report back to General Tullius. He needs as much detail as he can get."
Alvor nodded, stroking his beard.
"Could you go, Elf?"
Wulf smiled.
"The name's Wulf - Wulf Weard."
Alvor grinned.
"Aye, that's a good name, lass."
Wulf smiled widely, appreciating the compliment. An older Nord woman of short stature entered the house as Hadvar began talking to Alvor again. She was a rugged woman, her eyes sharp yet kind. Alvor turned around from his seat and smiled at her.
"Sigrid, would you believe me if I told you that Hadvar saw a dragon?"
Sigrid looked at Alvor incredulously, then narrowed her gaze. Her accent wasn't as thick as Alvor's, but she still had a lot of strength to her tone.
"Alvor, have you been drinking? Hadvar, what is he on about?"
Hadvar laughed.
"It's alright Aunt, I have indeed seen a dragon."
She looked walked over to him and looked at him closely.
"Alvor, I think Hadvar's been tricked by a Kajiiht trader. He must have had some of that ruddy Skooma to be seeing dragons. Who's this?" She gestured to Wulf.
"I'm Wulf, ma'am. I was with Hadvar when the dragon attacked."
Sigrid smiled.
"So, I guess Hadvar wasn't drinking Skooma, and you aren't drunk then, Husband?"
Alvor laughed.
"They tell nothing but the truth, Sigrid."
Sigrid sighed.
"Well, if that's so, they're probably both mighty hungry." She looked to Wulf and Hadvar. "How does rabbit stew sound to you two?"
Hadvar nodded vigorously at his Aunt's suggestion, whilst Wulf politely nodded.
The stew was delicious. Wulf hadn't had a proper meal for days, living on salted elk and rabbit wasn't the best diet. She wolfed it down, devouring every morsel in her bowl before Hadvar could even get halfway through his. Sigrid grinned as Wulf politely used her spoon to get the last of the juice of the stew from her bowl. She laughed as she asked Wulf if she wanted more. Wulf nodded and watched with eyes gleaming as the bowl was refilled with steaming potatoes and chunks of rabbit. A thought crossed Hadvar's face as Wulf continued to stuff hers with the stew. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"I'm sorry if this is prying, Wulf, but isn't it against Bosmer tradition to eat animals?"
Wulf swallowed her mouthful.
"No, we're carnivores." She grinned.
Hadvar looked very confused.
"Bosmer, or Wood-Elves, as some people call us, have this agreement called the Green Pact. The Bosmer have promised never to harm or eat the vegetation of Valenwood, in return for Y'ffre's patronage."
Hadvar raised an eyebrow.
"Y'ffre?" He asked.
"The spirit of the now." Wulf answered. "I personally don't worship him, as I've been out of Valenwood for a long time now, but I still respect him. We worship the Eight, too. There's a lot of diversity in Valenwood."
Hadvar looked lost in thought as Alvor sat back from his bowl, patting his full stomach.
"That was the most delicious stew yet, Sigrid. What did you put in this time?"
Sigrid smiled.
"You should ask Dorthe, husband. She helped me make it!"
Wulf noticed the small girl sitting at the other end of the table from her, she had been silent the whole time. Wulf felt guilty that she didn't notice her earlier.
Alvor picked up his bowl and gestured for Wulf to pass hers, he continued to collect the rest of the bowls as he spoke
"So, what did you put in, Dorthe? Lavender? Mountain Flowers?" He laughed and ruffled Dorthe's dark hair as he returned from putting the bowls in the washbasin. "Aye lass, it doesn't matter what you put in. I'm proud of you for making such a fine stew with ye mother." Dorthe wriggled out from under his hand and asked her mother if she could go play. Sigrid nodded and Dorthe ran downstairs to her room. Sigrid smiled.
"She's such a good girl, quiet, but good. She's been out and about a lot recently. She and some of the other children went out of the village to look for mushrooms, today. I'm glad she's making friends." Sigrid sighed. "I was worried she wouldn't. There aren't many kids in this town, and they're all a little older than her. Guess my little one is growing up."
Alvor took Sigrid's hand and held it, looking into her eyes.
"They all grow up in the end, Sigrid. I mean, just look at our nephew! A grown man, and a leigonnaire. We're proud of you, Hadvar. How's the war looking, by the way?"
Hadvar blushed slightly at the compliments and pondered Alvor's question before answering.
"Well, with this dragon business we don't quite know. I'm going to have to get back to Solitude and report to General Tullius. Despite capturing Ulfric, we still didn't manage to execute him, though I think that isn't what's right. It was the perfect opportunity to end the war though. It's important the Empire stops this rebellion soon. The Thalmor had the Empire by the throat, and now they're simply sitting with their ears against the door. If Skyrim rebels, the treaty might be broken, and that's the last thing we need."
A silence fell over the table and Hadvar's voice fell to a whisper.
"Otherwise, the Thalmor will destroy us all."
Wulf awoke in a bed for the first time in weeks, her wrists still sore from the binds. She was grateful for Alvor and Sigrid's generosity. Their house was warm and she could smell something cooking in the main room. She noticed a small face peering over the side of the bed. A small voice came from it.
"Hello."
Wulf pryed her eyes open to see Dorthe standing just beside her.
"Dorthe, is it?"
The young girl nodded. Wulf smiled at her.
"Good morning, Dorthe. To what news am I greeted upon waking?"
Dorthe giggled and pointed towards the door to the hallway. Wulf pulled herself out of bed and reached for her armour. Dorthe shook her head and Wulf raised an eyebrow.
"We must make haste?"
Dorthe nodded vigorously and grabbed Wulf's borrowed nightgown and began tugging at it, pulling her out of the room.
They snuck down to Hadvar's room, at the end of the hall. The door was open a crack, and Wulf could just see in. Hadvar was lying on top of the blankets on his face, splayed out like an overgrown starfish. He snuffled occasionally. Wulf suppressed a giggle. Dorth smiled widely, grateful that Wulf shared her amusement. He began to stir as Wulf closed the door and began to sneak back to her room. They froze in the hallway as he mumbled from behind the door, opening it to look out.
"Dorthe, is that you?"
Instead of finding Dorthe giggling from around the corner, he saw Wulf and Dorthe both frozen in the middle of the hallway. Wulf looked skinnier without her armour on, and her body looked a lot more fragile than Hadvar had thought it was. Her wrists had visible blisters on them, no doubt from the binds that kept them together only yesterday. Her nightgown barely covered her legs, having borrowed it from his Sigrid, who was much shorter than her. Hadvar blushed and shut the door, trying to regain his composure. Outside in the hall, Wulf began to laugh, knowing that Hadvar had likely never seen anyone but his family dressed as such. Dorthe giggled and ran off to the main room to help her mother prepare breakfast. Wulf meandered back to her room, sitting down on the bed. She spread her right palm and focused, feeling the warm light of a healing spell pool in her hand. She placed her hand over her wrist, feeling the blisters soothe and begin to heal. They weren't so bad on her right wrist, so she decided to let them heal naturally. Too much magic usage could often cause extra problems later on, especially for small things.
Once she had put her armour on, Wulf flexed and stretched, feeling the leather hug her skin. What to do now? She needed to get to Whiterun and see if she could try to sort out this dragon mess so that Riverwood wasn't in danger. She pulled her boots on and went through to the main room, Hadvar sitting at the table watching Sigrid cook with hungry eyes. When he noticed Wulf entering, he blushed slightly and then cleared his throat.
"Good morning, Wulf."
Sigrid and Dorthe looked at him and gave knowing smiles to Wulf, who began to laugh.
"I believe I was a first for Hadvar, Sigrid. Your nightgown was a little short for me."
They laughed as Hadvar turned bright red and put his head on the table. Sigrid spoke through her laughter.
"Aye, guess yer not as experienced in being a man as you think you are, nephew!" She looked at Hadvar and Wulf, deciding to leave them be for a moment. "Dorthe, we're almost out of milk, why don't you come with me and help me with the cows?"
Dorthe jumped up and ran out the door, leaving Sigrid to follow after her. As she shut the door behind her, she called back to Wulf and Hadvar
"Make sure the pot doesn't boil over!"
Hadvar was silent as Wulf sat down beside the cooking pot, stirring the contents occasionally. She gazed at the bubbling stew, her eyes coming in and out of focus.
"You know, there's nothing wrong with not having been with someone, whether physically or romantically or any of those things."
Hadvar sighed in his chair.
"I know, but I'm in my twenties. I'm basically halfway through my life and no one has ever been interested in me.
Wulf walked over to the table and pulled a chair around to face the cooking pot.
"Yes, and that happens. You just have to hope, and maybe get out into the world a bit more. Maybe you'll meet someone in the legion?"
Hadvar pulled his chair over to face the pot across from Wulf.
"Yeah, but what if they die? That's the danger of war, losing someone you care about."
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the cooking pot bubble. Dorthe bounded through the front door followed by a milk laden Sigrid. Her voice strained a little as she talked.
"Could you help me, Wulf?"
A few minutes later and all the milk was poured into jugs and put into the underground cold box in the cellar. A structure made of little but wood and soil, it was dug into the cold ground to keep the milk from spoiling. Sigrid wiped her hands on her apron and thanked Wulf.
"So, is Hadvar alright?"
Wulf nodded.
"Yeah, but I'd keep off with the jokes for now. Maybe someday you can tease him again."
Sigrid nodded and sighed.
"He's just like his father, his kindness makes it hard for him to accept the reality of his life and with the war and all, he doesn't want to hurt anyone by them losing him, or the other way around."
Wulf shut the cold box lid and sat down on a nearby stool.
"Yeah, I know about war. How old do you think I am, Sigrid?"
Sigrid moved up to Wulf and looked at her closely.
"I'd say you were about twenty, by human standards."
Wulf chuckled.
"I'm fifty-three."
Sigrid looked almost shocked for a moment, then realised that with her Elven blood, Wulf was more long-lived than most humans.
"I see, so you were alive for the great war, then?"
Wulf nodded.
"That I was, it wasn't pretty. The people I lived with then were killed and I just barely escaped with my life. I can't even remember where exactly we were living now, some small settlement in the south of Cyrodiil." Wulf stood up. "But that's a story for another day, we should check on the food and make sure Hadvar and Dorthe are alright."
Sigrid eyed Wulf carefully. She had obviously been through a lot, but she wasn't willing to offer details. They went back upstairs to find Dorthe and Hadvar crouched over the cooking pot, watching it intently. Dorthe turned to Sigrid.
"Do you think it's done yet, mama?"
Sigrid smiled and took a look into the pot.
"I think it might be, but you know - a watched pot never boils."
After breakfast, Wulf decided to set off for Whiterun. Not a long journey, but she was bound to get held up by one thing or another. Sigrid packed a small bundle of food for her, giving her an old motheaten cape that fell to Wulf's knees. Hadvar gave her a brief hug, his face serious and sombre.
"You know which way to go, right? Just over the hill. Follow the road, you can't miss it. Tell the Jarl that Riverwood is in danger of dragons, that I sent you, if he doesn't believe that I did, tell him Alvor did. Uncle and Jarl Balgruuf knew each other as boys." Hadvar fussed over Wulf, giving her advice about the road ahead and the dangers. She laughed and hugged him tight.
"Thank you for everything, Hadvar." She turned to Sigrid and Dorthe, who was holding onto her mother's skirt. "Thank you too, Sigrid. I'll be back soon enough, hopefully." Wulf bent down to Dorthe's height. "I'll bring back lots of exciting stories to tell you, okay?" Dorthe nodded and smiled, eyes shining.
Wulf stood up and began walking down to the bridge. Whiterun wasn't far, but it was a longer walk than a horseride. The imperial stone road stretched before her, and with sun at her back, Wulf was off on her way once more.