Chapter 4: A Special Assignment
A/N: Here's where this hopefully will get interesting! Enjoy! Review for a quicker update! And sorry that this took a while to get up. I was gone for a while with no Internet access, but I still wrote way too many chapters, so enjoy them all, 'cause I'm giving them to you all at once!
mrsmiawallace88- Thank you so much! And "so rawwrr" is now my new favorite adjective!
Lili-Hunter- Oh, my god, you may possibly be the best person in the world! You're the first person who I know actually reads the whole story! Thank you so much!
An excerpt from a letter addressed to Girder in Riverwood:
I think I've finally made a friend in Leixa. She was a bit difficult to loosen up, but she's actually a sweet girl and very determined. We've been out here for about two weeks attacking Imperial camps in hopes of rescuing prisoners and discovering battle plans. It may sound dull, but with Leixa, everything's an adventure. Every morning we get up and I help her train (the girl is worse than an idiot child when it comes to weapons, but I'm glad to say she's improving). The other day when we had some free time, I took her hunting. She was able to take down an elk almost entirely by herself. I say almost because instead of shooting the elk with an arrow, she shot a wolf as it lunged for the elk and killed that too.
But the girl isn't entirely hopeless. In fact, I dare say she's brilliant. As our general was trying to figure out how to attack a camp where we were completely outnumbered, Leixa waltzed in to bring them some food. Long story short, I find her an hour later with two of the generals having just come up with a genius plan of attack. It was carried out flawlessly and she was praised highly by the men.
We'll be leaving soon, and sadly that means that I'll be parting from Leixa. She has been sent back to Windhelm by the request of Ulfric and I'm being sent to Falkreath...
Windhelm, Eastmarch
Hermir was a conscientious young girl who was always working as hard as she could. She occasionally got into arguments with her boss, but she knew that he needed her. At night, she would work on the whip for Leixa, but it was something she was entirely unfamiliar with. She had written to both the blacksmiths in Whiterun and Riften to see if either of them knew anything about it, but both were experts on only metals.
"Hermir?" Leixa said as she approached. The young smith looked up and smiled.
"Leixa! Long time no see! How have you been?" she asked.
"Oh, fine, fine. I'm so glad I was sent back here, though. I don't think I could take any more raiding of Imperial camps!" she said with a slight laugh.
"Where's Lydia?" she asked.
"Whiterun. I sent her there when I shipped out to that camp in the Rift. I told her there was no reason for her to stay with me if I was going to have an army by my side. Plus, I knew it would be rather boring for her to stay," Leixa explained.
"Well that was nice of you. Oh, and about your whip, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, I'm so sorry!" she said.
"You should have told me! There's a blacksmith over in High Rock whom I stayed with for a while. If you write to him, I'm sure he wouldn't mind explaining!"
"Oh, really? That would be great, actually!"
Leixa gave her the address and name of the blacksmith, and then stayed for a small dinner with her friend. Around ten o'clock, she said that she needed to head to the inn as she was expected by the Jarl early the next morning (the very mention of Ulfric made Hermir swoon) and had to be presentable.
Walking back, she was lost in thought when she stumbled across a small crowd of people. As she curiously drew closer, she found out why.
A young girl, stripped naked was lying dead on a grave. She was slashed apart with gaping wounds all over her body. The wounds were, from what she could see, purposefully done. They were straight and often symmetrical. Whoever did this to the girl did it with some sort of intention.
Leixa shivered and looked away. "What happened here?" she asked the guard. He explained to her that this girl, Susanna, was not the first victim. A murderer called "the Butcher" was stalking young girls, it seemed. "Is there anything I can do to help?" was the question that turned her into a detective. It was a mystery that would fascinate her greatly in the coming days.
When she arrived back in her room, she found it surprisingly easy to fall asleep, despite the events of the night.
Palace of the Kings, Windhelm, Eastmarch
Jorleif was not in any way a military man. But, like most of those working for Ulfric, he was a friend of the Jarl. Every morning, he was the first one up besides the guards. He sat down in the main hall and just thought. No one really ever talked to Jorleif besides Ulfric, so he was glad when the pretty young girl walked in and sat down across from him.
"I take it the Jarl's not an early riser," she said.
"Not particularly. If you've come to see him, you might have a while to wait," he replied.
She sighed, but quickly looked up to him with a friendly grin, "Are you the steward here?"
"I am. Jarl Ulfric seems to like the opinion of someone who isn't a general in this war sometimes."
"I see. By the way, I heard about this whole 'butcher' thing that's going on. Do you think you could use any help?"
"If you're offering your service on this matter, I'd be glad to have your aid."
"Thank you, sir!"
"I'll notify the guards that you're allowed to help. Come to me if you need any help."
"I'll be sure to do that."
"Ah, good, you're here," came the raspy voice of Galmar, "Come right this way."
She took a deep breath and stood up. She folded her hands in front of her as she followed Galmar into the adjacent room. He stood over a map and asked her to look at it.
"We need to start conquering holds, but we just don't know where to start. Would you mind giving me your opinion?" he asked her.
"Oh," she looked at him confused for a moment and then bent over to look at the map. Out of the nine holds, the Stormcloaks had control of four. Whiterun technically was neutral, but everyone knew that Balgruuf was partial to the Imperials. "It would only make sense to take Whiterun. But you would have to do it the right way. A surprise attack would seem too much like a threat to the Imperials. You would have to give fair warning to the Jarl of Whiterun. While that would give him time to ready troops, it would pay off in the end if you are able to take the city. It would also be a demonstration of the strength and courage of your army. Plus controlling Whiterun would give you control of the center. You'd have the majority of the holds, too. But if you failed to take it, you'd open yourself up to attack on any of your holds. Dawnstar and Winterhold are the most likely. So I guess it all comes down to your confidence in your army."
Galmar looked at her and smirked, "We think alike, you and I. This is good. You're promoted."
"I'm sorry?"
"I wanted to test you. See if you were worthy of it. You are going to work directly with me. A sort of lieutenant. Will you accept?"
"Well, I mean, yes...but why?"
"Those soldiers out there come to us all the time, eager to join up for one reason or another. But you are different. You are not a mindless soldier. You are a military strategist. We need people like you here, not dying in battle."
"But I've only been a soldier for two weeks!"
"And in those two weeks, you helped organize an attack on the largest Imperial camp in the Rift. Accomplishments like that don't go unnoticed. Or unrewarded," he said and turned his attention back to the map. "Oh, and you'll be moving into the palace. Paying ten gold a day for a room adds up quickly. Your room is the second door on the left if you head through that door. But I'm sure Jorleif would be happy to show you to it tonight. And speaking of tonight, the Jarl has requested to see you at eight o'clock for dinner, so I suggest you wear something nice."
"What if I don't have something nice?"
"Find something nice. You're dismissed for now. Our work will start tomorrow-as long as the Jarl doesn't find you to be a complete milk-drinking lunatic."
Blacksmith Quarters, Windhelm, Eastmarch
"He what?!" Hermir exclaimed, "Dinner?! But that...that's so...formal and romantic."
"Please don't say romantic. I'm scared enough as it is! What do you think would happen to me if I screw this up? Where will I go if I'm kicked out of the Stormcloaks?" Leixa asked, pacing the floor.
"Okay, you need to calm down or you will do something wrong. Just be yourself and don't act like you're hiding something. Just be open."
"What if I am hiding something?"
"Just don't act like you are. Worm your way around the truth. Change the subject!"
"Yeah, okay. That might work." She took a deep breath, but her heart still raced. "Oh, do...do you have anything 'nice' I could borrow? I don't own anything that I wouldn't wear to a tavern."
"Let me see what I have." Hermir went to look through her things. She mostly had ragged clothes and armor, but she managed to find a light blue dress that looked fit for a wedding. It was only a little loose of Leixa, but it still looked rather elegant on her small frame. It was low cut so there was no place for her to conceal her amulet. But in Windhelm, that didn't matter. She should have been proudly displaying it for a long time now.
"Do I look fit to dine with the Jarl?"
Palace of the Kings, Windhelm, Eastmarch
Ulfric admired the radiant beauty as she entered the room with elegance and grace that was unusual for her, but stunning, just the same. She reminded him of a statue he once saw if Diabella. And she certainly was fit to be a goddess in his eyes.
Ulfric was fascinated by this woman in a way he had never been fascinated by anything before. There was something special about this girl. She projected this aura of importance and mystery whenever she passed by him. And he was, dare say, falling in love with her.
He was wondering if she was real. He had dreamed many times of her coming to dine with him. In each dream she would be walking towards him, but before she could reach him, she would vanish.
It made his heart skip when this one, unlike her shadowy sisters, sat down across from him. Her sapphire eyes very much a reality.
"Thank you for coming, Leixa," he said.
"It's an honor to be in your presence, my Jarl," she replied. It sounded rather rehearsed.
"Did someone tell you to say that?"
"No. I've just been running over what I would say for the past twelve hours, my lord."
"And that's what you decided on?"
"Yes, sir."
"A bit formal, don't you think?"
"Not for such an occasion, Lord Ulfric."
"Leixa, your formalities are making me feel as though I should address you as Miss...I've just realized, I don't know your last name," he laughed a bit.
"That's alright, sir. You can address me by my first name."
"I would ask the same of you, Unblooded."
"Unblooded?"
"Yes, pardon me. It's a nickname some of the men have begun to call you. The name has just stuck."
"Oh."
"Does this displease you?"
"No, of course not. But, L-Ulfric, you summoned me here for a reason?"
"Yes, yes. Sorry. I've something to ask of you. When I first met you, rather, when you first came to Windhelm, I knew you were not a soldier. You probably have never used a sword or an axe or a bow in your life until recently and. My guess would be you've never felt war's scorching heat or looked into the eying eyes of the enemy and know that moments before it could have been you."
"What are you trying to say?" she spat at him.
He looked at her in surprise and confusion by her suddenly sharpness, but brushed it off. "I'm saying that you are not one for slaughtering mindless troops. I'm saying that I think your talents lie elsewhere."
"What do you want me to do?"
Markarth, The Reach
Leixa was dressed in in simple yellow and green tavern dress when she entered the city. Her mission was simply to get an idea of what had become of Markarth. Ulfric had explained that his last informant had never reported in after arriving. Leixa was his replacement.
She was going over in her head her story. She had spent two weeks memorizing it, but she knew she would forget something.
As always, she was rudely pulled out of her own head by a commotion. Glancing over with the slightest bit of annoyance, she saw a man with a knife approaching a woman.
Without thinking, she drew her sword and grabbed the man from behind. He wrestled free and threw her back into a fruit stand. He at her now with the knife. In disoriented panic, she kicked him back, giving her enough time to scramble to her feet. The second time he ran at her, she skewered him in her sword. He choked on his own blood for a moment and then fell to the ground, dead.
She swallowed back the shock and horror of the event and sheathed her sword. She took a deep breath and looked around at the crowd that had gathered. "Forsworn!" someone exclaimed, "Here in the city!" A thunder of panicked voices followed this statement. The guards silenced then by saying that it wasn't possible and dismissed it as a random attack.
The woman whose life Leixa had saved caught her as the young girl tried to slip away. "You saved my life!" she said, "Thank you! Thank you so much! Here," she handed Leixa a necklace, "I was going to give this to my sister as a souvenir, but I think you should have it."
"Oh, no, it's-" Leixa began.
"No, no. Really, keep it!"
"Who was that man? Why were they all calling him Forsworn?"
"Oh, I'm not sure. I'm from Cyrodiil, you see. I really don't know much about this place," the woman said curtly and then spun around and pushed her way through the crowd.
Leixa stared after her. Strange woman, she thought, but brushed it off. She then turned around and began to leave the scene, too.
"Excuse me, miss?" a voice arrested her, "I think you must have dropped this during your fight." A young boy handed her a piece of paper.
She looked at him and thought she mist have misunderstood him. "Is this your note?" she asked him stupidly.
"What? No, no. That's yours," he said and looked her hard in the eyes. She then understood that this was his way of slipping her a note.
"Oh, yes, of course!" she said with a smile, "I...I would have been looking for that later, thank you."
He smirked and then walked away. She sighed and tucked the note into the corseted bodice of the dress. She glanced around, but the only person now looking at her was the guard. She clenched her teeth, but pushed her way through the crowd anyways and made her way to the inn. She was led to the room that her bag was sent to.
After washing up and changing into a non-bloody dress, she took a look at the note.
Meet me at the Shrine of Talos.
This was all it said. She took a breath and closed her eyes. She was about to get more than she bargained for.