AN: Thanks for the favourites, really appreciate those. Here is the next chapter. As before, do review.
Waiting as it turned out was a longer process than she had imagined. There was nothing to do and talking was only done in hushed and quick words, nothing when the guards were around. The sparse light flickered across the floor and the steady drop of water accompanied the heavy forced silence between them. While waiting she had shifted herself with back on the wall next to Erador, close but not touching. It had crossed her mind to huddle together to dispel the growing cold, but recoiled internally from the idea. She remained as close as she felt comfortable in doing so, but didn't come close to touching him. Erador only raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't say anything for which she was grateful. So all she did was count the water drops and hope that a guard was inattentive enough to get the keys. Until then she cowered in the darkest corner of the cell, curled up tightly and tried to calm herself. She shouldn't have lost control over herself and stabbed him, a sneer formed on her face, but at that point she had just wanted him dead. More than anything, more than Ulfric even.
At one point she lost track of time, the only indication was the sudden drop in temperature, making her shiver even more. Still she couldn't bring herself near Erador. Feel too dirty… and closing her eyes brought the images right in front of her eyes and the sensation of his fingers on her bare skin made her gag. How could she even allow that… Nord to touch her in that manner. Oh Auriel, he had done the same with Saadia and a shiver ran up her spine causing her to shake more violently.
"By Auriel", she heard him snap and suddenly his left arm was around her and one side of her face pressed against his side, "your shaking makes me itchy. Cold?" She wanted to smack him really for his audacity of daring to touch her. Just it felt too sheltering to her. No it shouldn't, why did it feel like this? Tensing up she decided to endure his awkward embrace for the sake of keeping warm. How did he manage to be so warm? When she still didn't respond, he sighed, "I don't know how you feel right now, " she creased her eyebrows, please shut up about it, "but I am not blaming you." What did he just say? He didn't blame her for what had happened? Moving her face up so she could see his face there was a distant expression on his face. This time she would ask.
"Did", her throat hurt, so sore it was, "it", she hesitated a bit, but pressed on more softly, "happen to you?"
His arm around her tightened and she worried for a moment she had angered him, but when he looked down on her, she saw no anger.
"No not what happened to you, but something…" he swallowed, something difficult to talk about, she shouldn't have asked, "similar." The following silence was just uncomfortable with Ayera fidgeting in his hold. She shouldn't have asked that. Get away. Just as she gently tried to disentangle herself, he spoke up again "No, it is alright. Sometimes we need someone to hold on to."
That was confusing. She didn't need someone to lean on, had been fine all those years. What about… Don't go there; she dispelled the thought with a small shake of her head. Then she shifted her focus back on Erador who still seemed to be quite content in hugging her. What was he doing? She was confused, but right now he was warm enough in this cold cell. Burying her head in his chest, she inhaled, finally getting rid of some of the mossy smell. Unfortunately, she was shaken out of her comfortable position. Grumbling she looked up again.
"Ayera, I really think you should know the telekinesis spells." Why did he think it would be the best situation now to start practicing that particular spell when he was able to do it just perfectly? Her botching up their best and most likely escape route was utterly completely stupid.
"Not now."
"Obviously, but once we are out I need to teach you."
"Why do you even have that idea?"
"Because it is useful." That was one of the worst arguments she had heard.
"That is not your real reason why."
"It is, woman, just take it as it is for now."
Why did he get so defensive? Not like she had questioned his magical prowess. Though she couldn't really get rid of the inkling that similar event he had mentioned was the real reason why he had suggested it. If his reaction at Loreius farm was connected to it then he needed as much comforting as her right. Drawing herself closer to him she laid an arm across his stomach, forming a strange embrace in all sense. All he had to do was accept it, if he so chose. At first he didn't seem to notice, but neither did he tense up on her more intimidate gesture. Sighing she resigned to the fact that this was all she would get right now and she didn't care. He was still the arrogant mer who had blackmailed her into cooperation. Just at some point something changed, during their little brawl in the Loreius Farm? Possible, but what had exactly changed? Well from the obvious less restraint to touch each other. Sometimes she had the feeling he wasn't the Thalmor he sometimes portrayed himself as. Typical arrogant, jerky and hateful Thalmor agent. His behavior didn't really… how to say, match up with that image. At one point she will know, until then she would learn what set him off. Wouldn't be much of an enjoyable journey to finally be able to get strong enough for Alduin if she antagonized him too much.
Then the arm around her squeezed shortly, briefly, but she knew it had been there. She only rolled her eyes at his reluctance to show anything too much emotional. Even if they were in a bloody cell. Men…
"The guards are surely not here a lot", he was right, the torches on the wall had burned down considerably since the last time one had graced their presence.
"Are you ready?" her response was only a terse nod. How was she supposed to conjure up a guard with the right key right now? She didn't know that spell.
"Well how do you think we get one right now?"
"Do some noise?"
"So they beat us up again?"
He frowned, but noise did sound good, because yelling for the guard specifically wouldn't get the guards of their arses. What would get them inside and look what was going on? Prison riot? She shook her head immediately dismissing the thought. They would be executed on the spot. Think from the beginning… What do the guards think you are? A married couple and the Thane of Whiterun. Well Ulfric knew who she would be once he saw her. He must feel so smug right now, having caught her after years of evasion and dancing on his nose. She might have provoked it by being in plain sight but never recognizable in her disguises. What would he do with her? He had told the people publicly that she was a pretender not the real one. Maybe he was, she really wasn't sure anymore whether she was the Dragonborn. Not when she failed so miserably so far. Now she understood Saadia's disappointment. All those expectations from all those legends and then everyone having different images how she should be. No wonder some wanted a different Dragonborn than her. Some wanted a strong Nord who wielded a war hammer or some others imagined the most talented Mage in all of history. She wasn't either of those things. Creating an image of expectation of her she could never fulfill would lead to such disappointment, that she could understand. Even when they told her outright that they thought that she wasn't adequate to be the hero of legend. Just why not accept it? Why would he denounce her as a pretender and parade someone more fitting into Ulfric's imagination? The Thu'um wasn't something you could learn in days as some had imagined and the Greybeards had years of meditation before using a word and then they barely spoke. Ulfric might be an exception, but how many words did he know? Why not say he is the Dragonborn himself? What was that bloody bastard thinking?
"Any idea?" No, she got sidetracked. Happened far too often. A married couple arrested for the wrong reasons was their cover and what would cause for an excused noise? Having sex would be something, but maybe the guards might join in and she felt already sick thinking about it. No, not for a long while.
"Why are you blushing?" How dare he tease her and how did he even see that? But she wouldn't tell him that, he would only make fun of that.
"I was…"
"…thinking of simulating sex with me?" He completed to her utter humiliation.
Oh Sithis… this was creepy. To her embarrassment he only chuckled,
"Don't worry I don't want to either and frankly I think you had enough of those encounters for today." Sometimes she really wanted to kiss him if he wasn't a kriffin Thalmor.
"Any better option?"
"We just wait, when they come for food we will be able to get the key."
"That is in the morning with more guards", she deadpanned.
A sigh, "I never had to do this before."
"Me neither."
Another silence hung between them until,
"Ayera, is that you?" a faint question came from the cell opposite them. Was this…? Could it be? Farengar! Lurching towards her bars she pressed her face into the cold steel. She squinted her eyes into the darkness, trying to look into the opposite cell.
"How many times have I told you to just cast a magelight when you cannot see anything?", yep that definitely was Farengar who had patiently explained to her how to appropriately use magic. Not that she had kept it in mind in the end.
Groaning she did the familiar ritual for a mage light and the gentle light popped into existence in their damp cell. The white blue light however managed to make it even look colder than it was. Looking back another one had risen opposite them.
"Why haven't they executed you?" Ayera asked breathlessly.
"Because I am valuable to them due to my dragon research and Ysolda had established on her first court day that she would be known as the merciful one in that relationship."
"So they are married?" she asked.
"Yes, the girl had Ulfric smitten to the point of insanity. Probably helped that she had some trade connections. Divines know how much coin they need."
"War is expensive" Erador finally piped up finally.
"Someone knows" Farengar's sarcasm never died did it?
"Of course I know, who doesn't?" Men…
"Well, that only confirms my suspicions that you are only a brute." She gave up.
"Oh yeah? At least I am not sitting on my arse fat and do nothing!" Hang on… they were doing noise, at some point a guard would come around. She just needed to fan the flames a bit. This was perfect, only she had to suppress the urge to laugh at the situation. At least they could keep themselves going for now. Manly pride at its finest she supposed.
"At least I have a brain!"
"Repeat that Nord scum!"
"Oh the almighty altmer can't live with the fact that we live in the same space? I am so sorry that your accommodation is not how you wish it to be." He was really provoking it, wasn't he?
An amused snort came from next to her, "I highly doubt you are a powerful mage, Nords are known to possess little prowess in that area."
That must have hurt.
"I am probably more powerful than you."
"You got no girl laid, that is sad." She sucked her breath in, that was below the belt.
"And you can? Ayera, how can you tell me he is better than me?"
"Wait that was you and not the Dragonborn?" Kriff.
One lie exposed… Sithis be damned. She had a lot of explaining to do once they were out. Right now she only managed a sheepish smile at him.
"You were that embarrassed?" Erador inquired, more softly.
Divines, she really didn't want to have that conversation here with him in front of Farengar whose dignity was probably dying there.
"I was drunk!" was Farengar's defense.
"A Nord who can't function properly while drunk is no true Nord! What a light weight!" Erador bit back.
"You elves can't hold a single drop of Nord mead."
"I can do it while pleasuring a girl on my lap." Ayera only wanted to die in shame right now.
"Oh is that how you got Ayera as your wife?" Did he actually buy that lie?
"Of course and my magnificent tongue." Mortification was definitely a cause of death. She slapped Erador hard on the back of his head. Definitely deserved that one.
"Nothing else? Too small down there?"
"More than you do."
There was a thumping noise and she quickly dispelled her mage light. Couldn't risk them draining her magicka as well as they had conveniently forgotten. Idiots. Farengar followed suit while both of them finally shut up. Heavy footfalls, boots were heard and a guard rounded the corner shouting "Silence before I come and cut your tongues out."
Ayera could only look at him and the key ring at his belt. Was it moving? Maybe from the movement of the guard, but not like that. Erador knew what he had been doing, bastard. Riling up Farengar wasn't really necessary or was it just him needing to cool off? Poor Farengar.
Fortunately for Erador the darkness prevented the guard from seeing his keys disappearing into the air and gently floating over to them. Finally something worked in their favour for once except the accidental even planned spat just before now.
The guard only huffed when he was met only with silence and walked out slamming the door behind him. Just then the key ring floated through the cell bars and right into her waiting palm. That had been easy and the triumphant smirk on his face said it all. Closing her hands around the ring she shuffled to the cell door and looked around to make sure there was no guard or from the sound coming.
"Only one guard to guard us?" Erador frowned.
"There used to be more but I am guessing the war and the riot thinned the ranks out quite drastically", Farengar whispered the response. No more animosity? Was this all planned and she hadn't heard it?
"Someone's loss is someone else's win." That was morbid.
She only rolled her eyes at that comment and conjured up another mage light. Spared her some embarrassment by padding the bars for the lock. At least there were no guards in the cell hall at all.
There was the lock. She tried the first key, it rattled and the sound echoed stopping her in her tracks. The males also silenced while all of them strained to listen for any guards to come back.
"Any louder isn't possible, is it?" Farengar complained. Ayera only gritted her teeth, she will punch his nose once she let him out.
The second key didn't even fit into the lock. What a great beginning and on went the tries with the occasional biting remark from Farengar. There were too many fucking keys on this ring as she tried and tried until finally it didn't rattle but made the distinct and faint click of an unlocked door. Erador was instantly by her side, pushing lightly against the door. Ayera flinched when it creaked in its hinges, but no guard was coming. Much thanks Nocturnal….
Carefully he pushed the gate further open and Ayera crawled out, dispelling her mage light in the process. Everything was silent and the door at the end of the corridor stood out slightly with the different wood colours. Lifting her upper body up she sat on her knees assessing the risk sneaking towards the door and listen for any indication of the guard still being there. Not that it mattered really, if he saw them he would be dead, but that would take a while to clean that mess up. She would rather avoid coming across any guard and having to go through the trouble of killing them silently and then getting rid of the blood stains and the body. Too much trouble in so little time to do it in.
The process of shuffling across the floor to the door was nerve-wracking as it could get. Were guards coming? What if they saw her? What would happen if…? Her heart started pounding as she drew closer and closer to her temporary destination with Erador on her heels. He shouldn't come she thought to herself, but it was already far too late to say anything. She pressed one of her ears to the door, trying to hear through the vibrations of the wood whether there was someone in the adjoining room. A gentle touch, fleeting really, drew her focus away. In the dim darkness she only saw Erador holding a strand of her hair in his hands. Oh no… was it the white part? Oh Sithis, it was, what was she going to do? Frantically she made a grab for the strand gesturing what she hoped he would understand as "later". He let her do it, the hair slipping from his loose grip like it hadn't been there at all. Guilt nagged at her gut, his betrayed expression in the grey black tones punched her in the gut. Why did she feel like this? May Talos have mercy on her soul.
Sighing she reached out anyways to touch his hand, but he withdrew it quickly, leaving her hand outstretched and her chest constricting painfully. So much more explaining to do once they were out. How could explain all this? Sighing she returned her mind to the listening at the door, pushing down the guilty feelings. Not the place and time.
There was nothing, could be the guard was asleep or not in motion, risk it or not? Waiting for a few more moments of held breath there was still no change in sounds from the door. Tentatively she reached up and pushed against the door while twisting the handle. The door swung out silently which she was grateful for. A snore tore through the silence she had experienced from outside the door and made her freeze in her tracks which caused Erador to bump into her back. She had to put her hands to the front to catch her fall, but slight grunt escaping her throat was enough to wake the guard. Frozen in place she looked on with horror that his eyes blinked open lazily, before shooting wide open. It was as if time had slowed down; the guard shot up from his seat to sound the alarm. Her limbs refused to obey to her no matter how much she internally screamed at them to move and stuff his mouth. Erador was faster than her, his fist connected to the man's temple with a loud crunch she only winced at. Then he slumped into his chair out cold. Any other time she would have felt guilty, but her surviving her own home town was more important.
The guard room was relatively well lit for it to be in the middle of the night, but how else could she explain the sleeping guard at his post. Two chests were at the far corner and with the key in hand she tip toed over. Not that she needed to tiptoe. Better be safe than sorry. Solid wooden chests was her first assessment with a sturdy steel lock. Difficult to break open if worse would come to worse and the keys wouldn't all fit. Taking the first key again she tried, nothing except rattle. Erador occupied himself with staring at her back. She knew he wanted to lash out at her form his tense posture to the clenched jaw. Only if she knew right now how to explain it and if the time were the right as well. But nothing was ever going right for them. The silence was weighing on her by the time she got to her fifth try and it finally clicked.
"What is your problem?" she asked softly while lifting up the lid seeing her dagger and cloak neatly folded.
"Not now" was the gruff response, but at least he eased beside her, sifting through it. Everything was in there, the two daggers, the pouches and thankfully their cloaks, something to obscure their faces with.
"But once we are out you owe me some answers", she could only nod at the demand. Like she had much of a choice in that matter. Hopefully he wouldn't sulk at this for too long.
Wordlessly she held out his pouches, the dagger he had lent to him and his cloak. He took without any hesitation or any indication they had the conversation just now. Swallowing the lump down in her throat she strapped her dagger on her back alongside with her pouches. All the while listening to any more footsteps approaching them, but the only sound was the rustling of cloth.
They were done only a few moments later, now having everything back taken from them. Ayera really wanted to count her septims again, just to make sure no greedy guard had served himself. Would be stupid to do it right here, but she needed to make sure everything even her hair dye was still there. Well the hair dye was pretty much obsolete now. Could she explain it by just saying he hadn't given her any opportunity to say it or never asked?
What was in the other chest though? Her curious part took over as she crawled over it. Erador only frowned and made a hurried gesture to the door but she ignored it. What was in the chest had overtaken her mind and she was going to know it. No risk no gain, all the great treasured hidden in Nordic ruins were in those dark corners. Her dagger had been more or less an accident found. Falling through a trap door hadn't been her most glorious moment, but finding the blade had made up for it.
The key to the previous chest didn't fit into it, nor a few others she tried. She kept on trying until the last one yielded no result either. Frowning she contemplated picking the lock simply to satisfy her curiosity. Just what are the risks? The longer they spent here the more likely it is for the guard to wake up and to be discovered by another one walking in by chance. Should she? Yes? No? The thief inside her wanted to, the assassin wanted to just get out of here. Deftly tugging at the pouch's string she produced a lock pick out and started to assess the lock. A quiet groan from behind her indicated Erador's frustration. She could only roll her eyes at his antics. So far she only had positive experience in going into dark areas, why not here? He could sulk all he wanted, she was going to know what is in that chest. Not that he could leave without her when he still needed her. Right, he only does it because she had something he wanted. However, that thought didn't seem to work anymore with all that happened. Don't get distracted she admonished herself and returned to rotating the pick slowly. It was a difficult one for it to be in the guard section of the Keep. All the while she kept poking and rotating the pick until she would finally find the spot where it would open. It took a while and several strained nerves when she thought she had heard someone approaching and several fidgeting attacks on Erador's part before there was the faintest click and she had the spot. A victorious smirk grew on her face as she successfully unlocked the lid and lifted it.
It was empty? What in Nocturnal's name? The chest itself was empty except for sealed letters on the bottom. Why would they keep sealed letters in this chest? Erador crawled next to her. Did he sense her confusion?
"Letters?" a quiet inquiry and a raised eyebrow. Might as well read them she thought and took the first out. The yellow parchment rustled when she turned it around and froze. There sitting in the middle of the closed pages was the red wax and the broken seal. The bear of Windhelm. Oh no… What was Ulfric writing and why was it in this chest? Was this the evidence chest? Why would they put it out here and not in the treasury? Only one way to find out, read the letter.
To Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, Jarl of Whiterun,
It has come to our esteemed rightful ruler of Skyrim's attention that you house the false Dragonborn in your midst and believe her spiteful lies about her being the savior of this world. This woman has no right to claim such prestigious title. Our investigation into her claims it was found that there is no solid evidence that she possesses the power. The guards who had most likely witnessed her apparent absorption of a dragon soul when a dragon attacked your watch tower were bribed. The enclosed letters are proof of her vile corruption and greedy attempt to grab power.
By the hand of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm.
Ayera was shaking with fury. He dragged her name through the mud and if those evidence pieces he mentioned found had been believed by the right people then no wonder they had been sold out. Was this why people bought that the Nord presented at the execution was the real Dragonborn? How could she have not seen it? Her lack of presence? Had all this doubt grown simply on her failures of not being a Nord, Lydia and her lack of strength? It must have been easy if she had provided the basis and Ulfric only had to plant the seeds for it. Her vision wavered. No, please no crying. Resolutely shoving the letter back into the chest only for a hand to stop her.
"Evidence should be secured, Ayera. It hurts I know, but think of tomorrow for once."
Gritting her teeth she wanted to slap him for his rationality at this point. Glancing around, she got aware of their situation again. Then she looked back at the pile of letters lying at the bottom of the chest. Should she take them? Why would she? Not like they would help her except she really needed to undermine Ulfric or blackmail him. In case… just how likely would that be? Just take them!
With a heavy weight in her stomach she stuffed the letters into the front of her tunic; she would read them all later. Shutting the lid again she felt some weight lifting off her shoulders. All this had been schemed and executed to perfection and she, the one who lived in such machinations, didn't even fucking see it coming. How stupid could she get? He would pay for this… if it was the last thing she did she swore to herself.
"Erador I have some unattended business to attend to", she didn't even recognize her own voice anymore. Cold and emotionless. He frowned and she expected protests. Instead he only squeezed her shoulder in return. "I know… do you need me to come?"
Why wasn't he trying to persuade her otherwise? Was he going to ditch her as well?
"Ayera, you want revenge and who am I to stand in your way?" Maybe it was best if he came along. She knew of a corridor leading to the court room and with it being night time it all should be fairly deserted. It was worth the risk to settle the score and give Ulfric the message the slight wasn't going to be taken. Even if she had to take away something precious to him like he had taken her home from her. Ysolda was the obvious target, but she wasn't entirely sure whether she would hit Ulfric close to home. She had heard rumours of him reclaiming the jagged crown. It would be heavily secured and with him at all times. His symbolic claim on Skyrim. How quaint would it be if that were to disappear?
Before she was going to do anything however,
"A few rules if we are to do this."
He looked confused at her sudden demand, but she really didn't need him botching up this.
"No sound and you follow my lead no matter what comes" she didn't mean to sound so stern, but this was the experienced thief and assassin leaking through. To her satisfaction he nodded. Weird… Don't question it, just do it already.
The door at the other end of the room away from the dungeons in her memory lead to the kitchens and from there the stairs up and you were in the court hall. Ulfric would be occupying the Jarl's chambers and there would be the jagged crown. No question. Anything else would be decided later.
The guard was still out cold and she was positive he wouldn't wake when they finally returned. Though she had no idea how long someone would stay out cold after such a punch.
"How long do you think he will be out for?"
"I don't know, maybe in a short while. By then we have to be back."
"Or knock him out again."
"What if he controls the cells when waking up and then sounds the alarm?"
"We run if that happens. I know Dragonsreach and its escape routes, trust me."
"Trust you?" he snorted which earned him a slap on the forearm.
She was quite positive the kitchen staff would be dead asleep by now, most likely no guard there at the door either. All relying on the safety of their locks, how naïve. All the better for her.
The kitchen was deserted as she had expected, as she gingerly pushed the door open and looked into the deserted and dark space. Were there sweetrolls on the platter over there? Water ran into her mouth and she felt tempted to stuff one right into her now growling stomach. Though she knew once she ate one of those delicious treats she was most likely to vomit hours later. It had been worth it every time. A look shared with Erador and both of them dug into supply of food laid out in front of them. She purposely avoided the sweetrolls, no need to vomit on the crown. Baked potatoes and grilled leeks were a welcome change for once and munching he observed Erador tearing into a grilled chicken breast. It felt exhilarating to stuff themselves full while actually trying to rob the arrogant Nord upstairs of everything. A full stomach usually procured better results in her experience. The unpleasant experience fighting a draugr in an exhausted and dizzy state had been enough for her. Maybe they should steal some more leeks and baked potatoes as supplies? It would definitely relieve them of any hunting or any obligation to stop by an inn, especially with the jagged crown in their backpacks. Deftly she stuffed any leeks and potatoes in the tiny space remaining in her pouch with Erador raising an amused eye brow at it. She didn't really care, all she knew was that a hungry stomach was the most unpleasant thing to fight with.
As quickly as their eating frenzy had started, it finished with them cowering near the corner leading to the main kitchen area where the hearth was still blazing. Silently she peeked around the corner. Bed rolls were strewn across the floor with the servants peacefully snoring in their slumber. No guards from what she could see. Carefully probing the wooden boards for any creaking ones she walked in a crouched position to the stairs leading up to the private dining area, just adjacent to the banquet hall or how some called the throne room. Everything was too deserted for her taste. They should have encountered at least one guard by now, but there was none. All drunk on their victory or was this all a trap? Panic seizing her heart she was about to call this all off when she saw a long shadow move across the wooden boards in the throne room. Someone was moving.
"Any words from the false Dragonborn?" a familiar deep voice said and her eyes narrowed. Ulfric…
"No, though some guards arrested a woman for looking like the Dragonborn, except the hair. They confirmed that she looks like her when I showed them the picture on the bounty letters. You want to interrogate her now?"
"No, all in due time tomorrow. My claim has to be fool proof; I have a deal to propose to her simply as that."
A deal and bounty letters…? Then she vaguely remembered Erador mentioning a bounty in Eastmarch. But this seemed like a bounty which crossed holds. That was… unusual.
After dragging her name through the mud and making the citizens of Whiterun doubt her legitimacy of her claim as Dragonborn? Well, as a blackmail method it would work, but to make it work as a long standing deal it was a rather foolish notion. Huffing silently she imagined his dumb look when the crown was missing. Well, he would have no deal when he would find the cell empty that is. It took nearly all of her self-control not to start snickering. That was why there were no guards. Ulfric wanted some alone time with Galmar, his most trusted adviser. No wonder….
"And Ysolda?"
"She will serve her purpose soon enough and bear me an heir." Poor Ysolda.
"Surely you could have done better." Better? Ysolda brought merchant connections with her and she was beautiful no doubt. Just sometimes she doubted he had thought that one through.
"Galmar I am…"
"If we could have gotten the Dragonborn on your side and you had married her, we would have something the people would accept."
Her and Ulfric? That was ridiculous. Self-serving Ulfric would have gotten nowhere near her bed and she would have trouble just thinking of babes between them and the process would be a constant battle. It would be cruel but if he wanted heirs with her, he shouldn't have insulted her very being the first time they met.
"Alas, she hates me and I can only return that feeling. Any heir between us would constitute of rape and that is not honourable." Oh so he had some shred of honour left in his body. But dragging her name through the dirt was honourable?
"The deal was to make her look like the dirty and whoring liar that she is and then we can use this to our advantage."
"If the woman in our custody is truly the Dragonborn we can discuss this further, but I need to return to the rest of the court."
"Of course, my jarl."
"The crown?"
"Safely locked away."
"Then I return to the reception as should you, old friend."
Heavy foot falls were heard and the scraping of wood as the two bulky men made their way to the living quarters in Dragonsreach. Locked away… so the Jagged crown could only be in a vitrine or a closed off room. She knew Ulfric's paranoia in these things, it had followed her around for so long. It would be close where he would be and that were the Jarl's living quarters where he was residing without a doubt. Then there was where they needed to go. Even if they had to kill along the way.
It took a while before she felt it was safe enough to continue sneaking further into the room. Well it was deserted so it was really wasted effort in that sense, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was a trap somewhere waiting to snap closed.
Nothing happened. Did they really think she was that weak or did they even doubt it was her? Galmar himself said that she looked identical except for the hair colour. Her elven ears had probably poked out. Damn them. Furthermore they might have seen the white batch by now and did the necessary conclusions. Get the jagged crown and get out of here.
Peeking around the wood pillar she took in the familiar throne room. The fire in the middle was simmering low as it should during the night. Long shadows were cast on the dais leading to the throne where Balgruuf used to sit. Who was… oh right, Vignar Gray-mane was now the Jarl. He must be writhing in that tremendous honour. May he choke on it.
Silently she stepped into the open room while having the balustrades up there in case someone was looking. Not that they could see much from where they were in the shadows, but too excessive movements would raise some suspicions. Someone would come to investigate and they would have to kill that person. She'd rather avoid that. Hiding the body would take too long and the scraping of a limp form across the floor would echo in the high ceiling and that would draw more people to their location.
The boards creaked quietly, freezing she listened for any indication of any detection. Nothing, slumping her shoulders and trained her eyes on the narrow steps in the distance on the dais. Up there and through the doors to the Jarl's quarters. Wasn't there another way in through the steward one as well? She immediately discarded that idea, if she was correct then Vignar would be sleeping there right now as a higher ranking guest would of course occupy the best chambers, as well as the most secure. That was their destination, maybe her most daring heist so far. No matter, she was the Master thief, with Nocturnal on her side, she could not fail this.
Getting up to the dais was going to be difficult. It was in the partially lit and staying the shadows would be immensely difficult. They could of course go a longer route to the stairs and on the other side, climb across the railing and then up the stairs. What would be best? Scanning the upper balustrade again, she saw no one walking up there, the one on her side was another story. Only know she realized how close Erador had crawled. His lips were nearly touching her hair where he thought the ear was, "What is the problem?" his voice was so quiet as a gentle breeze. She only ignored him, what had Farengar said. Use your magicka if you don't know anything else. Just she had never really looked into illusion magic. Erador might know. Turning around to him, she reached out with a hand to find his face in the darkness thrown by her own shadow. Touching something small, his nose? Now she knew where his ear was, so she shifted towards him with her mouth right beside his ear. They were close, too close her mind started to scream when his knee was right beside her upper thigh, but she was beyond care other than the jagged crown at the moment.
"I don't know any illusion spells", she could feel her breath hitting his ear lobes and the hissing intake of breath. A miniscule sigh and a dark blue glow appeared under her chin.
"Detect life", she breathed in recognition. Karliah sometimes used it, but she had never gotten the hang of it and never someone to show it to her since Karliah was away as often as she was, so they usually missed each other.
"No one in the hall", he said.
"Upstairs? Directly above us?"
"None."
Good news so far at least. Silently dashing across the wooden boards, they reached the dais with the throne. There on it laid the familiar and hated bear pelt Ulfric usually had on his shoulders. It stank usually, that hadn't changed she realized with a wrinkled nose. Should she set it up in flames when they sneaked back? No, too obvious. Quickly they disappeared into the shadow of the steps leading up to the balcony and the jarl's quarters. Now this is where they had to be very careful, guards would be most likely be posted in front of the chambers and inside. No noise. On the upper stairs where the floor began she stopped and slowly rose slowly to peek across the edge. Indeed, there were guards stationed at the door. Stoically. How to get past them? A distraction? But then they would go down the steps where they were. Should they risk scaling up the walls? She had done it once, when she had gotten into an ill placed bet in the inn and lost. Was doable if the wind didn't blow too badly and she had gotten to the window of Balgruuf's office. It was risky if they tumbled down they were dead. No doubt about it and there was no guarantee Ulfric was currently not in the office when he just had walked in. Or he was tired enough to go straight to bed? Sometimes it irked her if she didn't know anything about her enemy. Even if it was purely because of personal insult.
Use one of their invisibility potions? But then they would have to wait for an opening and standing on the steps was risky. A distraction but what kind of? If she could move something away from them… Then suddenly the doors to the balcony opened and she quickly ducked into the darkness of the steps again. It was Galmar again who spoke up, "You two, you are needed on the balcony."
What are they doing with the balcony? Another twisting feeling in her gut, but she pushed it away. This was the desired opening and in the probably brief distraction they would have enough time to slip in. The getting out was another story but right now was getting in had been solved and with a smirk she watched the guards scurry to the door and inside. Quickly before anyone filled in their posts she scurried across the floor and to the door. Reaching for the knob she thought it was unlocked. The smirk on her face vanished when the door didn't move. Bastards had locked it… Grumbling she reached back into her pocket and looked at the lock again. Probably was a tougher lock to pick than the evidence chest. Kneeling down she inserted the pick and rotated it. It was hard, she had known it, but the pressure was building on her shoulders. The guards could come back any time. Sweat started to trickle down her brow and her arms began shaking slightly. Biting on her lower lip she tried again, attempting to control her breath.
Finally it clicked. A look to Erador, which he thankfully understood as casting another life detection spell again yielded only minimal presence in the foyer. Where in Oblivion were the guards? Such minimal security was not logical when a riot just had occurred right at the execution! Shaking her head she gently pushed the door open revealing a dark corridor where they both slipped into and immediately closed the door behind them. Complete darkness surrounded them and she held her breath. Only his breathing was there, no shuffling or any indication anyone was there as well. She knew these parts, the steps up were just to their left. Grasping blindly into the darkness she brushed his forearm. The next moment she felt his presence in her back which raised the hair on her neck. Physical contact was something she could never get used to no matter what.
Carefully and slowly she guided him up the stairs, squeezing his arm and tugging him along .It worked without any major incidence and they reached the podest leading to another door. Light beams were on the floor. She knew there were steps leading up to the chambers and the office. The jagged crown must be in the office and anyone in the chambers in the bed. Turning the handle as slowly as possible, since that door was creaking all the time even when applied with oil in its hinges, she opened it. The corridor up there was deserted, thank the Divines.
Motioning Erador to follow her, she closed it behind him and sneaked up with him on her heels. Torches flickered every now and then, casting shadows on them. She didn't like it, a rather tell-tale sign. No sounds were heard except their muffled movements across the floor boards. The door at the end was firmly closed. Erador recognized when she took out another lock pick and turned his back as a look out. Not that it mattered; the lock here was fairly easy since she had done it once already.
The office itself was deserted and dark. Casting a magelight on to the middle of the desk illuminated the room in the cold blue light. Papers were scattered on the desk with no apparent order. Temptation was great to sift through them and see what was going on right now in Skyrim. First priority was to turn everything on its head and find that damn crown.
In a hushed voice she whispered, "You look through the papers I do the rest."
He didn't question it at least, but grabbed the first letter on it and read it with a furrowed brow. The first cupboard yielded nothing except a few neatly bound files. Not what she needed. She dashed to the next one carefully opening the doors only to be greeted with some clothes. Sighing she closed it again, moving onto a chest. The lid was closed. Her senses perked up. If the crown wasn't in there she would sell the nightmother. Though, knowing Ulfric's paranoia he would have commissioned a trap for any foolish thief. Unfortunately for him she had traversed too many Nordic ruin to not see that one coming. Just where were the cords which in her experience would either trigger a dagger shooting at any vital places, usually covered in armor. Just now she had a tunic on. No protection whatsoever. Usually such traps were somehow connected with the lock itself preventing any unwanted eye. Nasty little contraption if anything from the ruins was to go by. Spears or arrows shooting from the walls. There were no apparent cords which would snap and set off the trap when the lid was lifted. Glancing around the room she took in the walls to look for any suspicious openings which would release any arrows on the unwary thief. Nothing, so the trap wasn't outside but inside the chest. She could lock pick it just not immediately open it and do it from behind?
"Erador" he didn't look up at first when she hissed it as quiet as possible through her teeth, too immerged in the current parchment of whatever Ulfric had been scribbling. The next call of his name was louder and accompanied with her throwing a book at his head. It hit him in the temple and fell down in a dull thump on the floor.
"What is it?" He sounded annoyed. Well, if he had listened the first time he wouldn't have gotten the book in his face.
"I will open this chest…"
He looked incredulous, "You threw a book at me so you can open a chest?" It was hissed and anger seeped through every word. Next time they were alone she would slap him.
"This chest is rigged and you are in the firing line." A frown and then he realized what was going on.
"Do you really have to open it?"
"Yes, I have a suspicion Ulfric's crown is in there." A wide-eyed look, before he practically scrambled over to her. Picking the lock took an eternity and after the sixth broke Ayera felt like she didn't care anymore whether they should smash it or not. Patience, she reminded herself as yet another one broke. This spot was nearly impossible to find, but she would find it. After all she was a Nightingale.
The click she had waited for was so faint she had nearly missed it, but she finally had him. Turning the lock slowly and carefully, Erador made his way to the back of the chest, getting out of the way already. The lock was broken open. Ayera slowly and carefully twisted her body so that the pick was still in the lock, but she was behind the chest. Grasping the lid, she slowly opened it.
It sounded as if an arrow had been loosened and it hit a jug sitting on top of a wardrobe, causing it to fall down and shatter in tiny porcelain pieces. Oh Sithis. Quickly she dispelled the magelight spell and waited with bated breath whether someone was coming. Nothing, only silence. Where were they all? Another light rose up, this time it was Erador who had cast it. Almost over eagerly she crawled around and looked inside.
There the crown was in all its toothy glory. Whoever bothered wearing that was an idiot, but apparently it was worth enough in its symbolism. Ulfric will miss it greatly she hoped. Reaching inside her fingers brushed the cold steel and smooth texture of the teeth adorning it. It was a clunky bit of junk with too much symbolism laden on it due to tradition.
The door creaked.
With her heart surging into her throat she whirled around with Erador.
"Ulfric, love…?" There in the door stood Ysolda, all sleepy in a nightgown. That sleepy expression morphed into one of terror when she recognized who crouched there in front of her.
She mustn't scream!
Time slowed down for Ayera as she jumped up and onto Ysolda knocking her back on the floor with her hand over her mouth and on top of her stomach. This woman slept with Ulfric, the one who had murdered her friends and probably enjoyed it too. Ysolda was thrashing beneath her, gripping her arms, her nails digging into her cloak, her legs flaying uselessly through the air. Disgust swept through her. This woman doesn't deserve to live. It was almost an afterthought to gag her if she hadn't stabbed Ysolda through the throat hindering any sounds coming through. Blood flew on her already bloody cloak and face, but Ysolda was still moving. Just stop moving! Lifting the dagger again and stabbing it in the heart was like watching herself from far away.
It took a while before Ysolda's death throes finally subsided and only a pool of blood on the carpet. Erador said nothing, he seemed rather detached from this all as if it didn't bother him. Not that it mattered anyways. They had the crown, his wife dead. Ulfric's life lay now in shambles. Ayera felt herself grinning. Was this the madness which had taken Cicero?
"Ayera?" Erador's voice reached her eyes, it was muffled and she brushed it aside.
Then someone grabbed her shoulders, lifting her off the corpse and turned her to face a calm looking elf.
"Snap out of it!" No, this was too sweet of a victory.
She didn't see the slap coming, it hurt but it brought her out of her stupor.
"Ayera, you murdered Ulfric's wife." Shouldn't he be happy about it? He groaned at her confused look.
"Usually I am happy if that happens, but we are currently right where he has the most power." Unfortunately he was right; Ulfric did have more power here and if the corpse was found they would find themselves in deep trouble, if they still were in the city. What if she threw them off track maybe? It wasn't uncommon to summon an assassin if something major like the conquest of Whiterun happened. If she were to just drop a big hint that the Dark Brotherhood had been here. Well she was, but to make it apparent it had been just a contract, nothing personal. That would throw them off their trail for a while until they caught on.
"Ayera, are you with me?" Yes she was, just thinking. Nodding she gripped his hands and squeezed them indicating he should let go. Was charcoal somewhere here? Mixed with water it would make for an excellent paint.
"I need charcoal and water" she whispered to him. In response he only lifted an eyebrow but pointed to a drawer and a jug sitting on the table. How convenient…. It was quick work. Drinking the excessive water, she threw the bit of charcoal in the jug and stirred it with her dagger. Erador observed her all the while. A trick she had picked up with the thieves guild, old Delvin had several of those tricks up his sleeve. Once she was satisfied with its consistency she dipped her hand into the mass and took it out again. The hand would hint massively towards the Brotherhood and quite frankly if Nazir heard of it he would be roaring in laughter. She felt no remorse when she pressed her palm flatly on Ysolda's face, disfiguring her face with a black hand across her considered beautiful features. It was done, all they needed to do was escape, get their armor and be well on their way until dawn broke. Taking the jagged crown was another problem however, how to transport it? Her pouch was too little. Turning to Erador he seemed to have a knowing look.
"We need extra cloth to protect the crown if I assumed correctly you don't want it damaged."
"Yes," she walked to one of the wardrobes which she remembered had a few tunics in they could use. Wrapping the crown in was not easy, the teeth were troublesome, tearing through the cloth in various places and needed further wrapping so the pouch around Erador's shoulders wouldn't be damaged and give them away.
They were done and stood there in complete silence in front of the corpse that was once Ysolda, merchant and wife of Ulfric the Pretender. Getting out of the chambers was easy, nothing had changed in the desolation of the jarl's quarters. Their only problem now were the returned guards at the entrance. Could they evade them? Kill them? No, those men were trained to fight off any sneak opponent. One of them would be able to raise alarm even if she and Erador were to take on both. Just the door had to open. Distraction on their side and make the guards investigate. With the bottles ready on their lips, Erador raised his right arm with the orange glow she had come to associate with the telekinesis power. A vitrine loudly scratched across the stone floor.
"What was that?"
"You sure no one went in?"
"Of course idiot, the door is locked and no thief could ever pick it." Ayera had to bite her lip severely in order to burst out laughing. Might have been difficult, but not impossible. How naïve were those two?
"Just check." Good. The door handle moved and moved down completely. Ayera could imagine the faces the guards made were those of horror.
"Shit, we need to see after Lady Ysolda. They are going to have our heads!"
"Not when Galmar Stone-Fist can attest for our innocence." How optimistic. Erador and she gulped down their potions in one big sip and the familiar tingling feeling spread through her body a she disappeared from sight.
The door was kicked open and two guards stormed in yelling "Lady Ysolda." Damn, others will hear it; she just dashed to the open door, knowing they needed some time to arrive first. Distantly she hoped Erador was following her. They couldn't afford to be separated. An arm grabbed her when she skidded across the stone floor to the steps leading to the throne hall. How could he have found her? No one was coming running, but they couldn't rely on that. Down the steps they flew and through the still empty throne hall.
More yelling and somewhere sounded a horn. Sithis, they had found her. It was only a matter of time when they would come down to the jails and check on them. Hopefully the guard down there was still knocked out.
Stomping, people were coming. Running further they rounded the corner into the foreroom to the kitchen. The staff had just awoken by the commotion caused by the guards. They just managed to run down the stairs silently enough for the confused chatter amongst the staff. The door they had entered in posed the next problem. It would be too obvious, unless they were to run upstairs.
"Assassins!" came the roar from upstairs, causing the men and woman here with them to panic, they jumped up and ran upstairs. Giving Ayera and Erador the perfect opportunity to slip into the foreroom of the jail again. The guard was still knocked out, thankfully and they hurried into their cell. Just as the potion lost its effect.
"Do you think you can pick the lock on this grid?" He looked stressed, guards would no doubt come any second now and look for them or torture them just on the suspicion alone. Nodding fervently she got to work.
"What happened upstairs?" Not now Farengar, she thought as she reached for a new lock pick, reaching underneath the grid, working on the lock.
"I do not know", Erador said as he closed the gate behind her and locked it with the key. Then he crawled to her and threw the key down. Her inquisitive look was only answered with a raised eyebrow. The shoulder pouch was quickly hidden behind the body in the corner. She nearly had the lock.
"You sure? Sounds like an awful lot of it. Who did you murder?" Ayera flinched and lost her current position. Cursing she tried finding it again, which cost her two more picks. It was gravitating on her nerves, her flight senses screaming and every sound making her jumpy.
"We didn't murder anyone" Erador bit back.
"Oh well, if not then I suppose they will come down and tell us soon enough, but I suppose you won't be there."
It clicked and Ayera let out the held breath. The grid swung down revealing the access to the sewer system of Whiterun. She looked at Erador jerking her head to the grid signaling him they could move now. A nod and he grabbed the pouch, slung it over his shoulder while she turned her lower body into the hole, letting herself hang in and then dropped herself down. It was not far of a drop into the shallow water, still enough to make her knees protest when she failed to bend them correctly. Erador followed suit soon after, leaving the grid wide open.
"We have to close it" he assessed while craning his neck up. Looking to her again, he seemed pensive. Oh no, he is not thinking of….
"Hop on my back, you can reach it then." He did. Reluctantly she approached him earning an impatient huff. Without asking he grabbed her around the waist causing a surprised yelp to escape her and lifted her up. These days she really was going to slap and kill him. Her hands at first only grasped air at first, because she couldn't just keep her balance.
"Stop moving, just trust me I won't drop you!" Trust this mer? Out of question. She wiggled a few more times before there was an exasperated sigh and with a lurch her heart was thrown into her throat and her stomach did a flip. Her head also connected with the grid, she hissed at the sharp pain. His hands grasped her upper thighs now, effectively giving her less movement area. But now she had the grid in her reach now. Sithis, it was heavy, her arms were shaking and she was biting her lip while lifting the heavy steel up. Her arms were fully stretched when the grid finally locked into its original position again with a dull thump which echoed through the tunnels. No loud talking then.
She looked down the tunnel in the direction the water flowed. It was a gentle flow and she knew the tunnels would lead directly out of the city walls if she remembered correctly Lydia saying when they had first gotten to know each other. Maybe they could get Farengar out as well… his cell would be connected to them as well, somehow.
"Are you thinking of freeing him as well?" Erador had let her down partially and her ear was close to his mouth as he set her down. She only nodded as an answer. Right now she needed to think how to get to his cell's grid in this darkness. Casting a mage light would be too treacherous as they would no doubt pass several grids and if Ulfric were to come in seething with anger he would notice. Then they would be dead, her hand would give it all away. Had she forgotten to wash it? Damn…, though the black paste wouldn't really be too obvious in the dirt and grime of the cell, but still. She had left some very obvious clue. Bending down she sloshed her right hand in the water, watching the black paint trickling away with the flow. A hand clamped down on her shoulder and pulled her up again. Erador had a grim expression on his face and jerked his head up. She froze and heard the dreaded footfalls of approaching people. She scrambled up and they waded through the water, trying not to cause too many ripples. In the darkness of the tunnel they came to a stop, as they heard the door to their cell hall was kicked open, the wood hitting the stone wall with a loud crack. Louder foot falls and the murmuring of several guards. How many were there? Ten? Then a frustrated howl. Ulfric?
"Where are they?!" Ayera could only imagine a raging conqueror in front of their empty cell. Did he really think she wouldn't be able to escape? Something rattled.
"My lord, the cell is locked; they couldn't have escaped through there."
A distinct pause.
"Then tell my why their things are missing and why they are gone." He was definitely losing his patience.
Another set of foot falls were heard.
"Sir, there was an assassin in the keep. Lady Ysolda bears the marks of the Dark Brotherhood."
A very deep and gruff voice spoke up, "Assassins? Cowards, I think the assassin sneaked down here and freed them by giving them the keys." Good, they bought the plan.
"Galmar, if that is true, then they are probably still together. I want them found, send your men out on the streets and look for those bastards."
"The gates had already been closed, my King. They won't escape." That was where they were wrong. Not while they didn't know about the sewer system. Most of the guards seemed to file out and probably relayed the order to turn everything upside down for them.
"Why haven't they let out Farengar then I wonder?"
"Probably no use to them. We know the Dragonborn has ties to the underworld and that was probably a favour done by them."
Silence.
"My lord," Galmar visibly hesitated, "the crown was taken as well."
"How? The chest had a trap which would have instantly killed them."
"I do not know, we underestimated this person this time. Next time we know." Given the circumstances Ulfric was fairly calm Ayera noted. Too calm. Something was not right, but they had no choice but to remain still in order to not disturb the water.
"They can't have gotten far, the paint on her face was fresh, not even dried yet. We will catch them, no mercy, I want them dead on the spot." They had hit him hard, too hard for his pride.
"As you command, my Lord." Please, just leave already, don't ask Farengar.
"Shall we ask the wizard?"
"No, he won't answer. Still too loyal to the former Jarl."
"Oh, I can tell you where they went." Her head snapped up and wide-eyed she looked up to Erador's equally stunned expression as both tensed up. Farengar a traitor? Not even he would do that, he was not a Gray-Mane. She should have killed Vignar as well, really.
"Do tell Wizard." How would he like a dagger in his throat and suffocating slowly once he is done?
"You see, this black figure stepped in," was he going to, "and at first I thought that it was a guard since the torches had gone out." Ayera breathed out in relief and sacked against Erador's chest who deflated as well.
"Go on", a simple command from Galmar.
"Well, I found it strange that the person unlocked their cell and ushered them out saying 'be glad the Listener still finds you useful'."
"The listener is an actual person?"
"Oh the listener is the only one who can hear the Nightmother's voice", Farengar commented as if it was the most known fact in Nirn. Though sarcasm wouldn't really help in this case. Ulfric just lost his symbolic claim and a wife. There was no imagining if he felt just a little scorned. Don't provoke an already furious man.
"Right, " Ulfric's voice practically dripped with contempt, "and further?"
"Well, they scrambled out and then they were gone. Nothing more I can say to that."
"Why haven't they rescued you as well?"
"Why should they have? I am just a lowly wizard who has no ties to the Dark Brotherhood."
"Was this woman in that cell Ayera, former Thane of Whiterun?"
"I haven't spoken nor have I actually seen her, so I cannot say."
Another pause from Ulfric's part.
"My King, if…"
"We'll discuss this matter somewhere else, Galmar", it was hard and edgy.
Then they were gone. Ayera fought her heart to calm down and looked into the darkness of the tunnel again. They couldn't afford any more delays until they widened their search to the outside of the city and they would definitely start with the Khajiits. She couldn't tell if she could trust them not to tell where they were if the right amount of gold was held under their noses. Not that she blamed them; she would do exactly the same if it were strangers.
Water splashed silently as they trudged through the tunnel with hands on the walls as not to miss any openings. It was a long tunnel and the darkness was weighing her down. It shouldn't, darkness was her element, but this was too much. Casting a mage light was still too risky. Suddenly her fingers only grasped emptiness and she nearly stumbled at the surprise. Would this lead to Farengar's grid?
Turning to her left, she set a tentative step in front of her to probe for any unseen openings. But Sithis, this all stank so badly.
"Hey, "she nearly jumped when Farengar suddenly spoke directly above her.
"Don't make me bang my head."
"Then don't be too frightened."
"Well, I am the seemingly the only one being able to handle a lock pick well", narrowing her eyes at where she thought he would be in the darkness was really a waste of energy.
"Is that a threat after you stuck around to probably bust my incompetent arse out of this exquisitely smelling chamber?" He was really overdoing it now.
"You know I can't do anything, I am too small for this", she drawled sweetly and Erador groaned. His hands were on her waist again and lifted her up easily. Was she that light? Shaking her head slightly she got to work on the lock. It was easier now since she knew how to do it from her experience with the previous lock. A click and the grid swung down, completely catching her by surprise, and hit her in the back of her head. Yelping she felt herself tipping forward and she feared falling on her face. Erador's arm wound around her chest, not that it was for lecherous reasons, but her face burned when she realized where his hand was. Not her shoulder, but lower… oh, it was comfortably warm. What was she thinking? She really needed a lay again. His body suddenly tensed up and he immediately set her down with quickly snatching his hands away.
"Would you two love birds mind getting out of the way", just leave it to Farengar to go and burst into any situation. Looking on the floor she stepped forward, making space for Farengar to jump down. He did that, landing right in between them.
"So, now we need to get moving."
"Well as you heard the city is on lock down."
"Fortuntately, the sewers go out of the city."
"That was some stupid planning then, if they connected the sewers to the prison."
"Usually we have prisoners who are not that competent as you", Ayera could hear the wink in his voice. How did he keep such a good mood?
"You are a charmer", she ushered him the way back to where they had come from.
"You know where you are going?"
"Hate to break it to you. We are practically taking a stab into the dark here."
Farengar only huffed and Ayera could feel his annoyance. She was pretty sure Erador did as well, but she couldn't tell in the darkness. Sometimes she couldn't read him that well.
"The sewers follow one simple logic, always straight and when there is a junction go right."
"You studied the tunnel system?", Erador sounded incredulous. Ayera only wanted to laugh, sounded like Farengar she knew.
"Oh yes, Irileth and I had looked at the plans of them when we were looking at some potential escape routes for the jarl."
"Why haven't you brought him out?"
"And lead him straight into the battle field? Balgruuf wanted to stay and fight, was rather easily defeated I hate to admit. I only had so much time to destroy the plans. Right now I am the only one knowing them." Smugness practically dripped from his voice. What had she ever seen in him? Maybe she had been just too over eager when flirting with him.
"Lead on them, oh great wizard", bit Erador back. Shrugging she dismissed his annoyance for an issue to be dealt with later.
"With pleasure."
The rest of the way they remained silent except the occasional command from Farengar to turn right or keep walking. All the while in the dark, she was hesitant, Farengar seemed to know what he was doing. No need to cast a light and then be potentially detected because a cold white blue light was not the usual warm golden light from torches. A shame really, knowing the sewer system was useful and not having any clues where to turn robbed her of any chance to vaguely memorise. A clairvoyance spell would help; it would really but the soft blue glow showing the way would just betray them in the end.
She lost track of time in the darkness. Was it still night? Already morning? How much more? Was she actually dreaming? Had all this been a bad dream? The only thing tethering her to any sense of reality was the sloshing of water with boots trekking through it. Briefly she wondered whether Skeevers lived here, would make sense, they ate the dead things. She hated those little kritters, dirty, disgusting and carrying diseases. Normally she wouldn't even use her daggers to dispatch them, but either arrow or magic.
It felt like an eternity, but then she suddenly bumped into Farengar's back, they had stopped. Were they there already? Before she could ask, Farengar spoke up,
"We need to climb up now, there is an opening which will lead us directly out of the wall to the plains, just outside of the view of the gate guards." Oh great, where was she supposed to grip anything in the darkness? At least they would emerge outside any prying eyes.
The bright light stabbed her into the eyes causing her to squeeze them shut quickly, someone had summoned a Mage light. Grumbling she opened them again letting them adjust slowly to the brightness. Erador was looking up and she followed his gaze. She needed to swallow, it was a steep incline they needed to take and it was high as well.
"Well this is the route the Jarl would have taken if he could have escaped through here, alas there are some moulds you can put feet and hands in."
That was some relief, not having to scale such a wall having to find some hold on anything. She had done it once with Lydia when nothing else had worked. It had resulted in a broken leg on her side, nothing she could fix with a simple healing spell, but the shock at tumbling down had gone down to her bones.
It was a slow process, first Erador who reached a small opening and squeezed through. Then it was her turn. Slowly she moved her arms, reaching for the first few moulds. They were slippery as she had expected, but not enough to slip. Her arms strained and were about to shake when she reached the edge. With a huff she pulled herself up and nearly fell backwards when an arm shot forward, grabbed her by her left forearm and pulled her towards the small opening. She fell out and landed on her bum. Cold autumn night air hit her face, shivering in the initial moments she drew the cloak closer around her shoulders. Stars were shining this night, she was thankful it was still night, easier to slip away.
Once Farengar slipped out she started thinking again, she and Erador needed to get their armor from the Kajiits now. They were probably still there, but around a fire. Sighing she ran a hand through her hair, she seriously needed to colour it again. Turning she squinted her eyes to see where they exactly were. Away from any platforms for the guards to walk around at least. Furthermore she could look directly at the Mountain with the Throat of the World. So they needed to sneak right and then get their armor undetected. Sighing she began thinking of a how to proceed. The Battle-born farm wasn't far from here. Not sure whether they would be there with the lock down on the city now and even if she highly doubted they would tell any Stormcloak that they had seen them.
"Now we need to get our armour", she nearly jumped when she heard Erador's voice next to her ear.
"True, we need to go to the right."
At least he didn't question it and Farengar just followed. That is how she sometimes preferred company, no arguing about any sneak maneuvers.
It was too easy, sneaking around the battlements out of the view was easy. The guards couldn't see well from outside any torch light into the contrasting darkness. As a result, Ayera motioned the mage and Erador to wait while she crouched close the ground and crept to the large tent where she knew the armor would be. A single grab and they could get moving. She flipped the furs up and slowly robbed inside. No Khajiits was there, all sitting around the fire eating whatever they ate, maybe getting high on Skooma as well. There not far from here the beige cloth they had wrapped it all in, smiling at the for once for something successful she grabbed it and pulled it out with a grunt. Ebony armor wasn't the lightest and her daedric weapons , leather armor wasn't as light as a feather either.
The men were waiting for her, with a grim nod they were on their way, off the road to avoid any encounters. With her armor slung across her shoulder she only looked back once to Dragonsreach, its lights glimmering softly in the distance. This had been her home, once… No more. Ulfric had taken that away from her. She had taken his wife and crown, equal exchange for ruining and taking the stability out of her life.