Chapter 3 Mina Goes Shopping

The following day Mina shouldered her pack and stepped out the door, calling "Bye, Mom! See you after lunch!" Katja waved her tall daughter out the door and returned to her cheese-making. Outside, Mina paused to watch for a few moments as her two papas, dressed in full armor, sparred with wooden swords on a level patch of dirt off in the direction of the cistern tower.

Boy, they were something. Other than observing them on hunting trips Mina had had no real-life experience of the weapons prowess that was embodied in the two men she called "papa." But even if they were creaking on the edge of senescence (Wyll now 43, Anders 50), they could still put on a hell of a show with those practice swords. Though Wyll was three inches taller and considerably younger, Anders still had grace and a turn of speed that made it hard for the bigger man to get through his guard. Mina thought, with a touch of pride, that her papas could probably still kick the asses of any four young adventurers hanging around the Bannered Mare up in Whiterun. And that was without using any magic.

They were engrossed in their exercise session and paid her no mind, so she soon turned and went down the walk to the road. Those leathers Rezira had on yesterday had looked so hot, Mina had decided to wear her current set of Blades armor for the trip to town – a change from her usual garb of workaday trousers or skirts, a blouse, and perhaps a vest. All the Dragonsprings had their clothing custom crafted for them by old Gerde Gray-Mane, who'd begun sewing clothes for her mom before she was born. Having never known anything else, Mina was completely unconscious of her family's wealth.

This latest set of finely crafted leather armor, made not by Gerde but by Mom, was nearly unworn. It wasn't as if Mina had a lot of occasions to be armored up and going into battle! She was more likely to fantasize about being a pampered princess, dressed in silks and velvets and being waited on hand and foot (not milking cows and mucking out paddocks!), than to envision herself as a warrior like her "cousin" Anja. But today she was going into Whiterun by herself with a long shopping list in hand, and she felt sort of martial. She'd even brought her bow along, just in case there were any skeevers or bandits lurking along the way.

Mina greeted the guards on either side of the main gates of Whiterun with a smile. "Good morning, Jurgen! How's it going, Rolf?" "Morning, Miss Dragonspring," Jurgen replied. He wasn't a great deal older than she was, maybe 3 or 4 years, and though all she could see of him was his eyes she sensed that she had made him intensely uncomfortable for some reason. Good.

Inside the gates Mina spied her friend Julia, working away at Warmaiden's. The jolly times of childhood, when she and Julia and Sintra had been almost inseparable, seemed to have vanished just under a year ago. She'd always had some farm chores to do, of course, but now both Julia's and Sintra's parents had decided that it was time for their daughters to join the adult world. And that meant spending a large part of each day working.

Julia's mom Adrianne was working at the forge while Julia was at the bench, improving a set of steel plate armor. Not wanting to get her friend in trouble, Mina stopped by just long enough to say hello. She greeted Adrianne respectfully, sent her regards to Julia's father Ulfberth (who usually manned the counter at the store inside), then continued on her way. Wow, she thought, Julia's catching up with me in height.

Ulfberth was very nearly the size of Papa Wyll, though dark of hair. His daughter was not exactly pretty, with her dark brown hair and medium blue eyes, nose perhaps a bit on the strong side; but she was young and healthy and what you might call a "strapping lass." Mina figured that Julia would have no trouble finding somebody to take her away from all this, assuming she didn't really want to take over the family business.

Feeling strong and independent and joyful on this beautiful summer morning (yesterday's rain long past), Mina continued up Whiterun's main street. She did not stop in to visit at Breezehome. Dovi and Argis would be working at the current job site, off where Whiterun was creeping ever westward across the plains. Lydia and Edla would be on their own, no doubt involved in some household chore or another. Mina spared a moment's regret for Edla, missing her friend Meri. At only about 12 years of age, Meri had been drafted into the effort to bring the Falmer race back into human society – and it meant she was often away from home.

Reaching the bend in the road, Mina went into Arcadia's Cauldron. Arcadia, getting old, had sold her business and retired back in Cyrodiil a couple of years ago now. But the name had stayed, as the local people were familiar with it. In fact she had sold it to Katja, an investment that had paid off already.

Katja in turn had sold a quarter-interest to Lucia Bertolini, a young transplant from Cyrodiil who'd brought with her a quantity of gold to invest. Lucia stayed in the living quarters at the shop and dealt with the customers, while Katja reaped the lion's share of the profits and could obtain most of the alchemical ingredients she needed without paying for them. Katja's skill in alchemy was such that she rarely needed any potions she couldn't make herself.

Mina went into the shop and greeted Lucia, a pretty woman perhaps 10 years her senior. She had the dark eyes and hair, and the olive skin, so common among the natives of her home province. Lucia smiled in genuine pleasure to greet the lovely daughter of her business partner. "Hello, Mina! What can I do for you?" Mina produced Mom's shopping list, and the older woman studied it.

"I'm afraid not all of these have come in," she said, "but I'll get you what I can. You should tell your mom to consider sending some foragers out." This was Whiterun's only alchemy shop, and the city got many travelers. But even so, the rarer ingredients were frequently hard to obtain unless you had people out looking for them. Mom had told Mina that in her younger days she had collected every ingredient she could get her hands on, in the course of questing around the province. But she rarely had time for it these days.

Mina's pack was somewhat heavier as she left the shop. Now, for the market square. Even on a farm, you didn't always have every ingredient you might want for a meal growing outside the door. And Katja had provided her daughter with a list, along with the suggestion to buy anything that looked likely. She was trying to teach all her children to be cooks, seizing inspiration from whatever was to hand. So far, none of them had shown a lot of enthusiasm.

Mina strutted across the square, head up, long red-gold hair streaming behind her. The armor made her feel competent and powerful somehow, not a simpering helpless girl but a woman to be reckoned with. With her height, and her still-slim but increasingly lush body lined with the muscles from years of farm labor, she was an awe-inspiring sight. No one in that square who didn't know her doubted for a moment that here was a young adventuress, a warrior woman who could leave you dead at her feet if the notion took her. People got out of her way.

One did not. Alfmund Thorenson, arrived from Windhelm only a week before and already accepted as a recruit at Jorrvaskr, took one look and his heart was swept away. "By Ysmir!" he cried in his bluff Nord voice, "what goddess is this that walks the earth before me?" Torn from her zone of aloof power, Mina turned her head to see a friendly-looking face. Pale skin and gray eyes sat beneath a thatch of sandy hair, the nose somewhat broad and turned up. Overall, his expression warmed her to her core, though his words seemed a trifle… dramatic.

Still in her role as the devastating warrior woman, Mina sized the young man up. He didn't look to be more than few years older than she was, as she inspected him more closely. He was wearing standard steel-and-leather-armor, and had a greatsword sheathed behind his back. Not bad, really… "You are speaking to Wilhelmina Dragonspring," she said with a voice dripping hauteur. Oh, this was fun! "And you are?..."

Alfmund dropped to one knee, head bowed. "I am Alfmund son of Thoren, of the city of Windhelm, my lady Dragonspring." He had not been in town long enough to have learned of the Dragonsprings, she realized from his lack of reaction to her name. At this point Mina's script ran out. That had all been entertaining, but she had no idea what her next line was supposed to be. "Um," she said, trying to maintain her composure, "well met. May I ask what brings you to Whiterun?" He clearly had not been around until recently.

Alfmund rose to his feet, and took a step closer to look down at her. He was close in height to Andi, Mina realized, though shorter than Dovi. It was so nice to be looking up at a man! "I have just enrolled with the Companions, at Jorrvaskr!" he said, gesturing toward the handsome mead hall on the level above to their right. Mina glanced up briefly, then her gaze returned to Alfmund's gray eyes. They were lighter, cooler, than her mother's, yet still brimming with good cheer. His boyish face smiled down at her.

"Have you been long in Whiterun, Wilhelmina?" he asked. Before she could answer he went on, "The Companions are always looking for good fighters, valiant heroes to aid the cause of Right. Perhaps you might join us?" Mina stifled the urge to snort. The Companions were little more than an organized band of adventurers, who obtained a small living from commissions to kill bandits, recover stolen property, exterminate nuisance wildlife, or rescue kidnaped family members. Though their traditions were long, the time of their glory was far in the past. Or so she'd been told by Mom and Papa Anders.

"Actually," she said coolly, "I am a native here. And I'm little inclined to be joining the Companions." Alfmund was taken aback at this rebuff, but it wasn't long before he had recovered. "Ah," he said, his boyish smile undiminished, "perhaps then you might be willing to guide this poor traveler, teach me what I should know about Whiterun and its environs." What a tongue the boy had on him, Mina thought – and then thought, this guy is years older than me! Why am I thinking of him as a boy?

It was approaching noon, a little early for lunch and Mina had still not done her grocery shopping. But she was captivated by this Alfmund. His interest in her was so palpable, and it made her feel so grown-up and powerful. "I could possibly," she said, maintaining her pose as a far older and more sophisticated woman, "be able to spare you some time. Might we take the midday meal together?"

The way his eyes lit up was something to see. By the Divines, Mina thought, scarcely believing the morning's turn of events, I think this guy is in love with me! A pity she'd never seen that look from Dovi. Alfmund clasped her hands, a rather familiar gesture but she let it pass. "Let's go to the Bannered Mare!" he said eagerly, "I'll buy!"

An hour later much had been revealed. Alfmund was 18, the younger son of a member of the Windhelm city guard. Since the death of Ulfric Stormcloak when Mina was little more than a baby, the Jarlship of Windhelm had been taken over by another staunch Nord (though one less likely to run against the grain of Imperial policies), Beren Redbeard. Well-trained in arms since childhood, Alfmund had yet not wished to follow in his father's footsteps – so he had come here seeking a career of honor with the Companions.

For her part, Mina had confessed that she was still living at home with her parents. She had even admitted that there were three of them along with a confusing collection of siblings, but had not actually spelled out that she was but 14 years of age. Alfmund was charming, Alfmund was sweet, and he was clearly taken with her. How could she just turn him away? It was the most attention a boy (or man) had paid to her in her life, not counting the love and devotion she'd enjoyed from her two papas.

They parted outside the Mare with an agreement: Alfmund would call on her this afternoon at her home, and (assuming parental permission had been granted) escort her for supper at the Luxury Suite. Even her family's connection with the Suite Mina had not admitted, and as she bade Alfmund farewell (receiving a kiss on the hand, no less!) and resumed her quest for groceries in the market square ahead, Mina's mind was churning with anxiety. She felt as if she were, somehow, operating under a false identity.