They ride through the night until they reach Lake Geir, thinking it'd be best to avoid some towns for a while. No doubt rumors will immediately spread about Erelia Glendeylin being spotted in Ivarstead, and how she torched a group of Stormcloak guards.

She couldn't ignore the ache in her heart with each step the horses take further and further away from her homeland; her territory. At the same time, her heart is divided. She wants to go home, to set foot on Snow Elf territory and go home; but at the same time, she needs to build her army. She won't be a very useful heir if she doesn't bring home her own militia to protect her land. The rebels can hold their own, but she needs more money, more allies. Even if they're not her first and willing choice.

Twilight is breaking the horizon, pale colors of pink and orange pushing away the curtain of night. She's tried to avoid looking at the map for as long as she needs, Farkas navigating them for the hours they ride, and she keeps herself busy by setting up their small camp and beating out bedrolls.

Still, the thought of the Dawnguard constantly creeps into her mind, and how she could use them. The idea alone making her feel so cold and calculating – and sick. She doesn't want to be like the others. She doesn't want to be like Ulfric, like Tullius. But she might have to be if she wants allies and wants to become a threat to the others.

They've finally managed to find a rebel camp, of which the inhabitants welcomed her with open arms, even bowing with their head to the dirt as she and Farkas walked up on horseback, and a Bosmer and Orc helped them dismount.

She met with the commander of the camp, a Khajiit female named Ashuki proudly wearing the armor of Elsweyr. The sight of her does make Erelia's heart ache at the thought of Nassari, and the rebels that Ulfric so wrongfully executed. But she bows to Erelia and briefly sizes up Farkas. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she's just as exotic as she is intimidating.

Ashuki leans over the table, spread with a map of Skyrim and extensions of Tamriel. "We've had a courier traveling from camp to camp to count how many lie in each hold. It would seem the numbers have increased with the matters of a week."

"How so?"

"The number of inhabitants to the actual number of camps. You're gaining more and more support each day, Your Majesty."

Your Majesty, as if they've already come to the conclusion that she has the throne.

"So it would seem that it's all I have."

"I beg your pardon?" Ashuki asks, straightening to set her hands on her hips.

"Forgive me," Erelia immediately recovers. "My mind has been occupied for the last few weeks."

"I could say the same for us. This is probably one of the best days of anyone's life here." Erelia looks to her confused, rubbing her arm in nervousness. As much as she knew that she had to act strong, like a stone for her militia, she just can't help herself. "Many thought they were fighting for a lost cause, to be honest; but now, seeing you here, seeing that you're actually alive and well, it's given them new hope. Especially since we heard news of your whereabouts from Ivarstead."

"If you heard this quickly, I can't imagine how soon the news reached the Stormcloaks and Imperials."

"Everything you do travels quickly, Your Majesty. You're the new hope of Skyrim." Ashuki says with a soft smile; an attempt to ease her nerves. "But I'm afraid I digress, what is it that seems to be bothering you?"

Erelia's eyes trail over Ashuki's armor, wreathed in leather and mixed with chain mail, it's not that hard to picture someone like her walking through a desert with a turban on her head and a billowing cape behind her.

"I need to expand my army. I need to find allies; fine more support from across Skyrim; to establish myself before I can return to my territory and seek out help."

"Are you saying there could be more of you?"

"No. At least, not many but –"

"But with Snow Elves, we probably don't need that many. You're plenty powerful yourself."

She would've told the commander not to set her hopes to high, or her expectation, but the last thing she needs is to sound doubtful when already it would seem her own supporters are growing weary.

"So are you suggesting we begin taking cities, My Lady?"

"Absolutely not." Erelia immediately rejects. She rests her palms on the table, Farkas leaning against one of the support posts of the tent. "Not yet; not with the numbers spread so thin. No, we need to unite the rebels, gather them all in one place so that I can see what it is that I have, and how I need to expand."

Her tone grew more firm as she spoke, finding more confidence as an actual plan began to form. One that would buy her time, and give her the idea of how many supposed rebels actually followed her. Besides, having them scattered about the holds was too dangerous. They would get picked off one by one by both armies of both parties.

"It will take time to send word out to each camp we've already tracked, and are still tracking as we speak."

"I'm well aware." Erelia speaks softly. "But perhaps your plan to take cities isn't one I shouldn't disclose as of yet."

"What are you sighting on, My Lady?" Ashuki asks.

With a conspirator's grin, Erelia sets her finger on the map and says, "Rifthold."

Farkas immediately perks up, eyebrows high and alert. Ashuki holds her chin for a moment, her gold earrings clinking against one another and the braids of her large ponytail fall over her shoulder. "Quite the interesting first choice."

"It's the easiest first choice." Erelia rewords. "I have connections there, and when we take the city and usurp the throne, I know the perfect person to place."

Ashuki hums. "Might I ask why you feel so confident in this hold? And what connections do you possibly have?"

Despite wanting nothing more than to be honest with her followers, some part of her just isn't ready to expose that side of herself to them. What would they think of a Queen who came from a band of thieves, killing her way to the top and allying with the lowest of the low?

Then again, they didn't really have to know; she could refrain her information until the time comes. The time of which she can choose.

Still, her tongue tastes sour as she simply says, "In regards to confidence, Rifthold is frankly a backwater town with no rules, and guards that could be paid off. The guards could be bought to keep my location secret, but also because – to answer 'connections' curiosity – I know the leader of the Thieves Guild."

Ashuki's eyes widen, her brows lifting high. Her mouth drops agape slightly, stuttering as she attempts to ask the next question Erelia saw coming. "D-Do you mean . . .?"

"Libitania, Skyrim's most feared assassin. She was associated with the Thieves Guild closely before she turned to blood." Erelia describes, feeling awkward in spilling her own past.

"But Libitania was last seen with the Companions after canceling her contract with the Prince of Morthal. They say she killed him in front of the entire court after his mother sentenced him to his own execution."

"Yes, she did." Erelia says hoarsely.

"No one has seen or heard from her since. They don't know where she is, or what she could be doing." Ashuki continues.

"Even if she's fled to the farthest reaches of Skyrim, she had to have left someone in charge of the Guild. And whoever it is, I'll find out."

"Did she disclose such information to you?"

Erelia forces herself to grin slyly, "We've met on one or two occasions. She's quite a lovely young lady."

Ashuki suddenly bursts into laughter, clapping Erelia heavily on the shoulder. "A queen who deals in criminals. Quite a first impressionist I see. Well, so long as your sure that you can trust these Thieves Guild members; but what will be our first plan of action?"

"We need to get word to the Guild discreetly, somehow. Then they can begin prepping the city from below. We will then need to try and smuggle the rebels inside the city through the sewage system, the Ratways, then we can root Rifthold from the ground up."

"Very interesting." Ashuki says, holding her furry chin in her hand. "You think you will have the opportunity to see and meet Libitania?"

Erelia shrugs. "Knowing my luck, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Then you must bring extra protection with you, My Lady. We can't risk you losing your life to simple thieves." Ashuki immediately says.

Erelia looks to the Khajiit, and smirks slightly, perhaps dangerously. "You don't think I can take care of myself?"

"Of course I do, I just need to be cautious. As should you. Your life is of the most importance. We can't let anything happen you."

"Don't worry, I've actually faced Libitania in the past; and frankly, she's much lovelier in person."

Keeping that smirk across her lips, the smirk that Farkas has come to memorize, Erelia takes a deep breath. As she does, she can feel the spider-crawl ripple of her form shifting. She can feel her ears shrinking and her eyesight dulling as she shifts back into her mortal form. The color starts at her roots and drips down into its familiar ebony black. A spark of recognition reflects in Farkas' eyes and before she could blink, he strolls over and stands at her side. Her stone; her storm given flesh.

Ashuki stares at her with wide eyes as Erelia breathes and feels the familiar skin fit to her, and she is Libitania once again. The Khajiit is baffled, mouth agape and at a loss for words. Good. at least she's not jumping to conclusions.

"Please allow me to explain." She says, her voice still gentle, still soft like a royal. "When my mother was murdered, my father –"

"Gallus."

Erelia stiffens at the sound of her father's voice, and she doesn't stop when the tears immediately flood her eyes. She knew why she's been so emotional the past few days, and hopefully it'll provide, compassion from the rebels.

"Yes." She says, taking a rattling inhale. "When we fled the castle, he put this cloaking spell on me; to protect me. We had to become the lowest of the low just to avoid eyes visible and invisible." She begins to fidget with her hands, leaning closer to Farkas, and he instantly wraps a hand around her waist. "But within that time, I had gotten so caught up in, my other self. I had almost wished to abandon Erelia Glendeylin because the past held too much pain. Too much responsibility."

She finally admits it. At least, outwardly. She can't help but clutch Farkas' hand as her hand drift to her heart; to clench the necklace bearing the Celtic knot. The symbol of House Glendeylin. Ashuki didn't say anything, nor did the other rebels who are present in the room. she probably should've saved this for a bonfire gathering, but Ashuki is the Commander here and the rebels don't seem to question her. Maybe, hopefully they still won't if she ever decides to tell them what she saw.

"But after witnessing Skyrim's cruelty and corrupt first hand, I realized I had been a fool to abandon my throne. Abandon my people. I know what I did is not, the most dignifying. I know what I did makes me no better than Ulfric. I killed for money, I reveled in the luxuries of my gutter lifestyle while my people were left hiding in the outskirts of Skyrim; while many other races here are in chains, being whipped and beaten and tortured." Erelia then straightens her back, lifts her chin and steps away from Farkas. She undoes the buttons of her tunic, letting the fabric softly drop around her shoulders with a whisper. "But I have worked alongside them. I have suffered and prayed, alongside them. And I will never forget the kindness they each bestowed upon me."

Her front was scarred enough, but when she turns her back to Ashuki, she's ever grateful for the quiet gasps as they behold the ruined flesh of her back. But also at the tattoo she had done, the graceful and beautiful designs that curl, swoop and twist in the ancient language of the Snow Elves. She pulls her hair forward, twiddling with its ebony ends.

"I could've died from infection, but a Khajiit woman woke up extra early to help heal my wounds. Even smuggling me a healing salve at breakfast." Erelia says over her shoulder, her voice above a whisper. "I ever got to thank her. The next morning four overseers raped and killed her. And then the day that I snapped in Cidhna Mines, I went and returned their favor in kind."

She turns back to Ashuki, holding her shirt up just to cover her breasts. The Khajiit Commander has narrows brows, but her eyes are glistening like glass. She didn't have to mention that the overseers were Nordic. Any hold in Skyrim that is Stormcloak supporter has Nords running the slave mines. Another means to show they are superior.

Erelia gives an inconspicuous shake of her head. "They died too quickly." She adjusts the fabric back around her shoulders, buttoning slowly. "I'm not showing you this as some excuse, as some pardon for what I did. What I have done is truly unforgivable. But I will work until my dying day, to rebuild my kingdom and this land. I will not hide my face any longer; I will not fall from grace. But if you choose not to follow me, I understand."

Her voice breaks by the end of it, nausea clenching her gut as she feels as though she is signing away her only militia. Libitania had killed so many people – and ruined so many more lives. She knows there will be those who doubt, those who won't see her as a fitting queen; unworthy of the throne for her abandonment. But she can at least redeem some parts of herself by facing those who support her now.

Ashuki approaches her, eyes still gleaming, but still stern. "Many won't be pleased with this; if you decide to go public with this, news."

"Of course." Erelia instantly replies. She can feel Farkas shift uncomfortably behind her.

"I don't know how the rest will respond." She says.

"If I may, could you wait to tell them? You run this camp, so I chose you to disclose this personal information. If I have you approval, then we may move forward. But if not –"

"I'm not saying no." Ashuki interjects. "We've built too much on this to simply drop it. But this is still much to process, I have close friends whose lives have been effected by Libitania, Skyrim's Assassin."

Erelia bites her lip and covers her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. Her voice quakes when she speaks. "I really have no other explanation then being selfish. It's much easier not to think about the other person at the end of my blade."

Ashuki is quiet, her gaze downcast. "You can stay here in the camp, for however long you need. And I will follow your request to, keep your secret until you're ready."

"Thank you." Erelia says with a dip of her chin. Slowly, she begins to shift back into her elven self, her hair gleaning with silver. "I shall take my leave then."

"Reemus will show you to your quarters." Upon hearing his name, an Argonian male steps forward, an Imperial bow strapped across his back. "Have a good night."

Erelia can't get past the rigidness in her tone, but at least she didn't try to chuck a dagger at her neck. Still, she bows politely to the others in the tent as they pass, Farkas unnervingly quiet as they follow Reemus to their assigned tent.

The Argonian doesn't say much either, he barely looks over his shoulders when he asks her, "How many lives have you taken?"

The questions itself is too quiet. Her thoughts flash back to when she was on trial with all the jarls of Skyrim who gathered at a moot just for her. A steward of – Jarl Elisif, if she remembers – read the long list of victims claimed by Libitania Desidenius. Only those when she was training with Zusa Phoenix of the Faceless. Her crimes of the Thieves Guild are never tracked. When it was all over, she didn't deny anything and then she was sent to Cidhna Mines.

"Too many." She mumbles back.

"Do you regret any of them?" Reemus continues. Farkas gives a low warning growl, but Erelia gently places her hand on his forearm.

"I never killed children." She starts with. Irrelevant, admittedly, but somehow still very important. "I killed adulterated nobles and twisted governors striving for power. It felt very rarely when the average citizen was involved."

"But they still did."

Erelia sucks on a tooth as Reemus looks over his shoulder to her. She schools her face into neutrality as she says, "Yes."

Reemus is quiet until they reach their assigned cabin, and when he opens the door inward, Farkas goes first and as Erelia, he speaks. "I had a cousin who was murdered. They say it was an accident, but my family thinks it was a murder. By Libitania."

Erelia pauses and ponders. She remembers much of the citizen kills because she remembers the anger that clouded her thoughts at how undeserving it was for them to be targeted. A majority of them were happy families, gathering around tables and holding hands in prayer to the Divines. So normal. So peaceful.

"What was his occupation?" she asks.

"Trader. He would sell wares from the Black Marsh in Skyrim."

"Anything specific?"

Reemus tightens his lips into a line, clearly irked at her questions, almost feeling disgusted to talk to her now. "Clothes. All kinds to anyone. He never stayed in one place."

Erelia inhales, blinking slowly when it rattles. "Yes. I remember." Reemus looks to her in a way that indicates he wants to bite her neck out there. Farkas noticed it too and she could hear the dirt shift behind her. "I didn't kill him."

Reemus pauses, looking confused and untrusting at her words.

"He had a family: a wife and two little boys at the time." The Argonian nods. "I was supposed to kill him under the pay of a Stormcloak soldier who didn't like the way he spoke to him while making a trade. It was too easy to sneak into the house and stalk up to their beds and place my dagger at his neck."

Reemus' hand drifts to the pommel of his dagger, Farkas advancing closer with a deep growl vibrating his throat.

"But it is much easier to go to a sick house and take the head of an already dead Argonian and stuff it in a sack. Travel with it for weeks so that it has proper time to decompose and then throw it at the feet of Zusa Phoenix and lie through my rutting teeth, that it's whom she asked for." She dares to take a step towards Reemus. "I didn't kill them. I didn't kill any of them. I gave them all time to fled and to change their names and occupations. To flee to the far edges of Skyrim, possibly further."

She steps back and makes to enter the tent when she looks over her shoulder to the Argonian standing with mouth agape.

"If you want to find your cousin, look for the name: Nerum Casmareen. He's now a trader of food now and lives in Rorikstead."

With that she closes the door, thankful for the blinds that block the door's window. Sconces cast the cabin in a soft buttery glow, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. The family room is on the immediate right and a few steps back brings you into the dining room. Through an open doorway is the kitchen, then when venturing further to the left it breaks off into a single bathroom and bedroom. This must've been an old hunter's cabin given how, clean everything is and how updated with its soft cushioned couch and clean white plates stacked in the hutch.

As Erelia sighs, readying to just fall into the bed, Farkas steps in front of her. She doesn't pay much attention to is, walking into him and resting her forehead against his chest, expecting him to embrace her.

Instead he takes her by the arms and sets her back. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asks, and Erelia's heart sinks at the tone.

"What?"

"Why would you expose yourself like that? Do you not know the risks?"

Erelia's eyebrows narrow and she sneers. "Of course I do! But I can't run from my past; I've already figured that out."

"But why tell them that you and Libby are the same person? You might as well be signing away your army." He growls.

"I feel like they would've found out sooner or later. My past seems to have a habit of coming back to haunt me." She lowers her voice. "You sleep with me all the time Farkas; you know the nightmares I have. You really think I'd be able to sleep knowing there are people working for me of whose lives I might've affected?"

"But why tell them everything?! You could lose your army!"

Erelia's voice has reached a deadly calm when she says, "And what would you say when they find out who I used to be once I've claimed the throne? I could easily be overruled, and they'll still feel used, but when I'm queen?"

"You could've spaced things out. You could've kept it simple; tell them you and Libby worked together; she gave you permission to walk among the Thieves Guild, gave you all sorts of contacts. If people heard that Skyrim's Assassin was siding with the Lost Queen, you could've gained a lot more support. Instead you risk throwing it all away because of a guilty conscience?!"

Erelia takes a deep breath, biting back her rage that feels like a living fire through her veins. "I am not going to build my empire on lies, Farkas. Not anymore. My father did it because he had no choice; he was trying to protect me. I continued it because I was selfish – I didn't want to embrace who I was. But now that I've accepted who I am, now that I'm taking on responsibilities that will bear heavily on my shoulders, I need the support."

"And what will happen when your own rebels revolt against you?"

She can feel her eyes growing dull and dead. The fire in her muscles grows to the point where it's in her throat, and she has to swallow it back before the fire pools from her lips.

"Then I will tie myself to the whipping posts of Winterhold and let the victims take a whip to my back." Even when Farkas' eyes widen, she says, "It is the least that I deserve."

Without giving him a chance to retort, she steps around him and heads for the bedroom. Just to make him quiver a little more, she undoes the buttons of her tunic and lets the fabric fall when she walks. With her mutilated and tattooed back exposed, she pauses to glance over her shoulder, no doubt the gold ringing her pupil looking as alive as the fire she feels inside.

"Mark my words Farkas: I will rebuild Skyrim to her former glory. I will create a kingdom of which no one has ever seen. Even until my last breath."

Even if the look of fear in his eyes is enough to make her heart fracture, Erelia continues into the bedroom, throwing herself onto the bed.

She doesn't remember falling asleep.