Freya had the upper hand when it was time for them to head inside the Thalmor embassy. Where Tharin needed an invitation, Freya's seductive nature came into play- something she ruefully used just to weasel her way inside without an invitation and even Tharin couldn't help but notice the change. He couldn't put his finger on it. She wasn't wearing anything different than she normally did, but something about her aura exuded something that he found rather distracting under the circumstances and it was that very thing that kept even the females at the party from questioning whether or not she belonged there. It also kept the guards from searching her like they did Tharin. She did the talking to Elenwyn while he spoke to Malborn.
When Malborn's apprehensiveness showed, however, Freya took things into her own hands. She listened briefly to everyone and spied a man sitting on a bench, obviously drunk and complaining about being cut off. Slyly she snuck over to the bar, grabbed a bottle of Black-Briar Mead and walked over to him, her voice sultry and seductive when she spoke to him.
"You don't seem to be enjoying the party, friend."
"They've cut me off!" he slurred. "I didn't realish there were sho many prudesh here!"
"Well that is a shame!" she feigned surprise. "It's just not a party if you're not having fun. I say 'to oblivion with that'. Here, a gift from me to you."
"Awe! You're a shaint!" he took the mead and drank deeply from the bottle and hiccuped. "If there'sh anything… anything I can do for you… you… you come find me."
"There is one small favor I could ask of you, friend." Her smile was as sweet as honey and she met him eye to eye. "Do you think you could cause a scene for me?"
He agreed and then immediately called everyone's attention to himself, slurring out insults and in general causing a raucous while she slipped back over to Malborn and Tharin, a faint trace of disgust painted on her face. Once everyone was effectively distracted, Malborn lead them through the kitchen, told Tharin where to find his things and locked the door behind him before people started to question.
For all the talk about the Thalmor, Tharin and Freya discovered two things while in the embassy: that the Thalmor were quite weak and easily dispatched, and that they were as curious about the dragons as everyone else. It wasn't long at all before they were returning to Delphine with the lack of news, Malborn in tow as well as a prisoner the Thalmor had held captive.
Freya shared some of the spoils she had taken from the Thalmor embassy, most of which Tharin hadn't noticed her taking, and the two of them made their way to Windhelm, far away from the reach of the Imperials and the Thalmor.
Delphine left to consider their next move and they were, for the moment, left to do their own thing and Tharin found himself wondering about what Freya had done in the embassy, and also if she'd always been that way and he simply hadn't noticed or if it was some power she only used when needed. He glanced at her and couldn't help but note that she still seemed the same as she had in the embassy. He opened his mouth to ask, but only closed it again.
"You keep staring at me." She said bewildered. "What's wrong? Do I have blood on me or something?"
In truth, she did still have traces of blood splattered on her clothing, but that was not what he was thinking about. His mouth worked before his mind, however, and he blurted out his question and immediately, embarrassed, wished he could take it back. "What'd you do to the people in the party?"
An eyebrow raised and she laughed faintly. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't have an invitation, you are armed to the teeth… quite… quite literally actually, and no one even questioned you. I got patted down and still feel violated."
"Ah…" a wicked grin touched her lips now. "It's an inherent vampire trait, though usually I try to suppress it."
"So you can… turn it off?" it was clear Tharin was utterly confused now.
She looked almost mystified at his meaning and tilted her head slightly. "Turn it… off?"
"Well… is it like magic where you use it when you want it or is it… something else?"
"It's… well to 'turn it off' I usually just suppress my natural aura... but it's... well it's always there... kind of." She was struggling to explain and it was obvious. It'd be easier if she knew exactly what he was asking, but his questions were general and not really to the point. Finally she countered his question with one of her own. "Why are you asking?"
"Because it… I…" inwardly she couldn't help but laugh at his awkwardness, but she forced down her own embarrassment with practiced precision as he strenuously tried to form a sentence. Finally a frown touched his face and he pointedly stated exactly what the problem was. "If you can turn it off, I think you forgot to."
Freya found it impossible to hide the blush, though the moonless night concealed it well enough for her. "Ah… I… didn't forget, Tharin. I have suppressed it as best I could since Malborn lead us through the kitchen to the main portion of the embassy."
He blinked twice and stared, slightly set aback. "Oh…" was all he managed to say.
The trip back to Whiterun was slightly awkward for both Freya and Tharin and both of them opted to avoid conversation even until they both sat down at Tharin's kitchen table and finally got a moment's rest to recap everything that had happened. While Tharin ate, Freya finally broke the silence and broached the subject that neither one of them had even thought about until that moment.
"I think," she said quietly, "That Delphine is more interested in a grudge against the Thalmor than actually finding exactly what has happened that brought the dragons back."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I understand that the Blades were essentially wiped out by the Thalmor, but dragons are immortal beings. They're not so easily going to be swayed by the elves. It makes no sense and I don't know that she can necessarily see past her grudge on this matter."
"Do you have any ideas?" he inquired curiously.
"Well, I'm fairly familiar with the lore." She replied offhandedly. "I know the stories I heard when I was a child."
"Do you remember anything specific about the stories?"
"Well, supposedly Alduin, the World-Eater, was defeated by a shout, but I don't know if that's true."
"It's worth a shot." Tharin said, thoughtfully. "But for now we should relax. We've done a lot recently. We deserve it. Can vampires still… drink and eat normal food?"
She laughed and nodded.
Who would've imagined vampires could still get hangovers too? Freya certainly wouldn't have, but there she sat, feeling ill and holding her head, every candle in the house put out. Even the fire pit was doused for the moment while she tried to nurse the pounding in her head. It had been far too long since she'd had mead. She was regretting it now.
She didn't hear the door open. She was too out of it and by the time she realized someone was in the house, she had a dagger to her back and before she could do anything the blade sunk deep and she could feel the warm thick ooze of her own blood running down her skin underneath her clothing. She staggered to her feet and lunged but the figure was already gone and her vision was darkening. She swayed only for a moment and then dropped to her knees on the floor and grasped at the grave wound and then everything went black.
