Lydia and Lucia returned to Whiterun a few days after the siege. Breezehome had, luckily, remained mostly undamaged. Some of the other houses hadn't been so lucky. One of the ones down the street had nearly been levelled. Rebuilding the city would take time, but I was sure we'd manage.

As Lucia rushed into the house and Claudius scampered across the floor, Lydia stopped me in the doorway. Glancing at the street, she handed me a note.

"The innkeeper in Riverwood told me to give this to you," she told me quietly. "She said it was urgent."

"I'm sure it was," I murmured, scanning the parchment.

Mara,

I've figured out a way to see our friends. Meet me at the usual place.

"Right. I've got work to do."

"And you're off again," Lydia sighed. "Try not to get yourself killed, all right?"

"That's not likely, believe me."

Delphine was waiting for me when I entered the Sleeping Giant Inn. After looking around, she told me in a whisper, "Come on, I have a plan."

I followed her back down to her secret room beneath the inn. Once we were alone, she said, "I've figured out how we're going to get you into the Thalmor Embassy."

I hesitated at that. You, she'd said. As in me. Just me.

"You're not coming?"

She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "That would be a bad idea. I'd be too likely to attract the wrong kind of attention, but they don't know you at all yet."

Thank the Divines for that. If they had any idea who I really was…

"So, what's your plan?" I asked her as I crossed my arms and leaned against the stone wall. "How am I getting into the Embassy?"

"The Thalmor ambassador, Elenwen, regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor. I can get you into one of those parties. Once you're inside the Embassy, you get away and find Elenwen's secret files. I have a contact inside the Embassy. He's not up for this kind of high-risk mission, but he can help you. His name's Malborn. Wood elf, plenty of reason to hate the Thalmor. You can trust him."

"You're sure of that?" I asked her, feeling skeptical.

"Don't worry about Malborn. He's not a dangerous character like you, but he hates the Thalmor at least as much as I do. Like I said, he's a wood elf. The Thalmor wiped out his family back in Valenwood during one of their purges that we never hear about. Luckily they don't know who he really is, or he wouldn't be serving drinks at the Ambassador's parties. I'll get word for him to meet you in Solitude, at the Winking Skeever. You know it?"

The inn near the city gates in Solitude. I nodded.

"While you're doing that, I'll work on getting you an invitation to Elenwen's party. Meet me at the Solitude stables after you've arranged things with Malborn. Any questions?"

"No. I'll see you there."

"Sounds good. Be careful."

The Winking Skeever was relatively empty when I stepped inside. It was late in the morning, and there were only a bare handful of patrons about. At the back of the main room, sitting at one of the tables, was a lone Bosmer. I made my way over and sat down in the only other chair. He frowned at me, his sharp brows knotting together.

Leaning forward, I said quietly, "Our mutual friend sent me."

"Really? You're who she picked?" He asked me, shocked. My lips pursed in irritation as he went on, "I hope she knows what she's doing…"

"I'm the only one who can do this, so yes."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Here's the deal. I can smuggle some equipment into the embassy for you. Don't plan on bringing anything else in with you. The Thalmor take security very seriously."

"Noted," I said. I pulled off my sword, bow, and quiver of arrows and placed them on the table, along with a couple lockpicks.

He gathered the things up and got to his feet. "Okay, I'll get this inside the Embassy for you. I've got to go. I'll find you at the party, don't worry."

He hurried away and I got up as well. The party wasn't until nightfall. What was I supposed to do for the several hours I still had left until then? As I stepped out onto the street, I immediately heard the sound of footsteps running toward me and turned just in time to see someone grab onto my arm. I staggered backward.

"You! You'll help me! You still help people, right? That's what you do?" The Bosmer begged in a harried voice. His clothes were ragged, but there was something… faintly familiar about him. I frowned in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"My master has abandoned me!" He whimpered. "Abandoned his people! And nothing I say can change his mind. Now he refuses to even see me. He says I interrupt his vacation! It's been so many years… Won't you please help?"

I squinted at him and suddenly I realized where I'd seen him before. The muscles in my jaw clenched.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice taking on a harsh edge.

"Last I saw him, he was visiting a friend in the Blue Palace. But no one as mundane as the Jarl. No, no… such people are below him."

"Of course they are," I ground out.

"He went into the forbidden wing of the palace to speak with an old friend. Said it had been ages since they last had tea. Oh, and you'll need the hip bone. It's very important. No entering Pelagius's Wing without that."

He handed an ancient human pelvis to me and I took it gingerly, wrinkling my nose.

"I'll get him back, don't worry about that. In fact, I want a word or two with him myself."

I left the Bosmer and hurried over toward the Blue Palace at the other end of the city. Once I made it in there I crept over to the only door that looked like it hadn't been touched in ages and carefully picked the lock. I inched the door open so that it didn't creak and slipped inside.

The rooms inside were musty and full of cobwebs. He would pick a place like that. Of course he would. I cautiously walked along, brushing aside the curtains of spiderwebs that blocked my way as I searched for any sign of him.

I turned down onto a dusty hallway, only to find myself standing in a misty clearing a moment later. I blinked. Shadowy, gnarled trees ringed the area and a table smothered in all kinds of food stood in the center. Two men sat at it. One was middle-aged, his lank blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, with a look on his face that was somewhere between tension and exhaustion. The other was dressed in a purple suit and had a short, pointed white beard. He was familiar. Too familiar.

"My dear, sweet, homicidally insane Pelagius, what would the people do without you?" Sheogorath asked the other man. "Dance? Sing? Grow old?"

I took a few steps forward and noticed an odd rustling. Looking down, I noticed that, somehow, I was again wearing the Raiment I'd been given during my stint as Duchess of the Dementia region of the Shivering Isles. My hair was done up in a braided bun and an elaborate crown made of black gems and raven feathers rested on my head.

"Pull up a chair, my dear, and join the party!" He called to me. "Don't be a stranger. Unless, of course, you are a stranger and I'm mistaking you for another redheaded woman I once knew."

"No it's still me."

He had been expecting me. At one of the place a contorted white teacup rested on a flamboyantly painted saucer. I lifted the cup, which was filled with black tea, and took a small, wary sip.

Gods, I missed sujamma.

"I never seem to see your eyes anymore," the Madgod commented, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands, "perhaps I will take them, just to know they still exist."

"Do. I have no use for them. I've seen all there is worth seeing."

"My dear, you are becoming far too serious… or perhaps not serious enough."

I shrugged. "Who can tell?"

He laughed. "Pelagius, have you met this fine woman? This is Mara Fides. The one I told you about, not the goddess with a stunning lack of humor."

"It's not like I have a great one either," I grumbled. Pelagius, for his part, looked mildly interested. Sheogorath was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Mara, my dear, this is Emperor Pelagius Septim the Third. Or, more commonly, Pelagius the Mad. The greatest Septim that's ever ruled! Well, except for that Martin fellow, but he turned into a dragon, and that's hardly sporting–"

Without thinking, I abruptly stood and snatched a knife from the table, pointing the blade right at him.

"Don't you dare say his name!" I snarled.

"Sore spot that, isn't it?" He asked with a smirk. "The little hero couldn't save her prince. Such a risky thing, love. It's entirely madness."

My hand shook and clenched around the hilt of the knife until my knuckles turned white. Tears stung in my eyes. "I will use this."

"And what do you – tiny, puny, expendable little mortal – think you can do to me?"

"In case you've forgotten," I growled, "I'm not mortal. Not anymore."

We glared at each other from across the table before Pelagius cut in with a loud sigh, "If you're both just going to argue…"

Sheogorath humphed loudly. "Well then, if you're going to be like that, perhaps it's best I take my leave. A good day to you, sir. I said good day!"

"Yes, yes. Go. Leave me to my ceaseless responsibilities and burdens…"

The Daedric Prince snapped his fingers and Pelagius vanished in a flash of purple light.

"How rude!" He scoffed. "Can't be bothered to host an old friend for a decade or two… Now then, why have you decided to grace this old Daedric Prince with your presence?"

I lowered the knife. Slowly. "I met a Bosmer out on the street who I was sure used to be a priest of Mania. Dervenin, I think. He begged me to retrieve you from your vacation."

"Really?" He asked, silvery eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You came all the way out here for that?"

"No, but it did tell me exactly where to find you."

"Clever girl. Or, perhaps not so clever. What is it that you want?"

"Is my mother still alive?"

His gold eyes flashed and he grinned at me. "Yes. Hasn't aged a day since you were in the Isles."

My heart pounded. Ma was alive. "I did what you wanted. Give her back."

"Very well. I'll release the damsel."

I blinked. He'd let her go? Just like that?

Sheogorath leaned back in his chair and cocked his head to the side. "Is there anything else?"

I hesitated.

"Yes," I said slowly. "I want to keep this dress."

Delphine was waiting for me when I arrived at the stables, leaning in the shadows against a nearby building. She took one look at me and let out a long, surprised whistle.

"Where'd you get that dress?" She asked.

"I ran into an old… acquaintance of mine who owed me."

"And did you give Malborn the gear you wanted to smuggle into the Embassy?"

I nodded. "Malborn's all set."

"Good. I have you invitation to the party."

She handed me a folded slip of paper. I opened it.

Elenwen, First Emissary of the Aldmeri Dominion to the kingdom of Skyrim

Requests the Pleasure of the Company of

Mara of Whiterun Hold

At a New Life Gala on 1 Morning Star, 202 at the Ambassador's Residence.

Regrets only. Formal Attire Requested.

"The only way you're going to get past the guards is if they really believe you're an invited guest," Delphine said. She looked over my appearance with a critical eye. "I guess this will do. You should pass for a real guest, at least until you open your mouth."

I glared at her. "Thank you for that vote of confidence."

"We just can't afford for anything to go wrong." She sighed and nodded to a carriage that was waiting some distance away. "Ready to board the carriage to the Embassy?"

"Yes." Divines, yes. I just wanted to get it all over with.

"All right. I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Just make sure you get back out of there alive with the information we need."

"Don't worry. This isn't the first time I've crashed a party." All I could do was hope it went better than the last time. "I'll get that information for you."

The Blade nodded. "Good luck."

She went one way and I went the other. When I climbed into the back of the carriage, the driver started off, taking me up a road leading into the woods.

An hour or so later I arrived at what I assumed was the Embassy. A fence topped with metal spikes surrounded the compound. The carriage passed through the front gate and stopped in a courtyard beside several other carriages. A Redguard was just walking in when we stopped.

"Ah!" He said, looking up at me. "A fellow latecomer to Elenwen's little soiree. And arriving by carriage, no less! I salute you, my good lady!"

I carefully climbed down, my shoes crunching softly against the light layer of snow that coated the ground. Unsure of what to say, I kept silent. The man didn't seem to notice.

"My lateness is due more to getting lost on the way up this gods-forsaken mountain than to any desire to actually arrive late," he rambled on. "I prefer to arrive early, often the day before the party so as not to miss out on any of the drinking."

"It's the day of New Life. It would have been perfect for that."

He snorted.

As I approached the stairs to the main building, a guard dressed in gilded armor and holding a torch stopped me.

"Welcome to the Thalmor Embassy," she said. "Your invitation, please."

I held it out to her. She took it from me and looked it over. A moment later she stepped aside and gestured to the stairs.

"Thank you, ma'am. Go right in."

As I climbed the stairs I heard the other guest say to the guard, "Now then. Here's my invitation, I don't have a poisoned dagger strapped to my thigh, et cetera, et cetera."

Biting back a smirk, I stepped into the Embassy.

The moment I passed the threshold, I was bombarded by light and warmth. Black and gold silk banners covered the stone walls. In the middle of the room, a crowd of guests milled about, chatting to one another. Servants slipped through the crowd carrying trays of bite-sized pieces of food. Somewhere on the other side of the room, a musician was playing a flute.

I'd barely had time to take any of it in when I was approached by a tall Altmer dressed in midnight-colored robes. Her hair was combed back, away from her sharp face, and her golden eyes were rimmed with black. She eyed me with interest.

"Welcome," she said to me. "I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are?"

So this was the notorious head of the Thalmor in Skyrim. I felt a slow smile spread across my face. "You're Elenwen? I've heard so much about you."

She seemed somewhat shocked at my response. "Have you? All good, I trust. But you have me at a disadvantage. I'm afraid I know nothing about you. Please, tell me more about–"

At that moment a familiar voice cut in from somewhere nearby, "Madam Ambassador, I am so sorry to interrupt…"

"What is it, Malborn?" Elenwen snapped. I finally caught sight of him, leaning out from behind a bar set into an archway.

"It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red–?"

"Of course! I've told you before not to bother me with such trifles." Turning back to me, she schooled her features back into an air of pleasantness. "My apologies. We'll have to get better acquainted later."

I inclined my head. "I look forward to it."

"Until then, please, enjoy yourself."

Once she was gone, I hurried over to Malborn.

"You made it in. Good," he said quietly. "As soon as you distract the guards, I'll open this door and we can get you on your way. Let's hope with both live through this."

Distract the guards. How was I supposed to distract the guards? Starting a fire was too risky, and spilling or breaking something would draw too much attention to myself. My gaze finally settled on the Redguard I'd met outside. He sat on a bench beneath one of the windows with his arms crossed and looking thoroughly disgruntled. I heard him grumble, "What does a fellow need to do to get a drink around here…?"

Turning back to Malborn, I said, "Give me a drink. Something strong."

"Here you go, ma'am. The finest Colovian brandy."

I stared at the glass he handed me. "You call this strong?"

"It's what I have," he hissed.

It would have to do. Taking the brandy, I sidled over to the Redguard.

"I brought you something," I murmured, holding the glass out to him.

He took it from me, cackling, "Ah, the one generous soul amongst a gathering of pinch-pennies and lick-spittles! If there's anything I can ever do for you, do not hesitate to call upon me!"

"Actually, there is something you can do."

"Wonderful! I can begin to repay your generosity immediately. Say on, friend."

Lowering my voice, I said, "I need you to cause a scene. Get everyone's attention for a few minutes."

"Is that all?" He cackled again. "My friend, you've come to the right person. You could say that causing a scene is… somewhat a specialty of mine. Stand back and behold my handiwork."

I quickly stepped aside and watched as he marched into the center of the room. Raising his glass into the air, he shouted, "Attention, everyone! Could I have your attention, please! I have an announcement to make! I propose a toast to Elenwen, our mistress!"

"What are you doing?" The Ambassador hissed.

"I speak figuratively, of course. Nothing could be more unlikely than that someone would actually want her in their bed."

All the guards were hurrying over and drawing their weapons.

"Although, most of you are already in bed with her! But again, I speak figuratively…"

Malborn grabbed my arm and started tugging me back toward the door behind the bar.

"Let's go, let's go! Before anyone notices us."

I hastily followed him back through the door. Malborn shut it behind us, blocking out the sounds of the man telling the guards off.

The Bosmer breathed a sigh of relief. "So far so good. Let's hope nobody saw us slip out. We need to pass through the kitchen. Your gear is hidden in the larder. Just stay close and let me do any talking, got it? Follow me."

He led me through a door at the other end of the small room and into the kitchen. A lone Khajiit was preparing food near the fire. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of us.

"Who comes, Malborn? You know I don't like strange smells in my kitchen."

"A guest, feeling ill," he said dismissively. "Leave the poor wretch be."

"A guest? In the kitchens? You know this is against the rules…"

"Rules, is it, Tsavani? I didn't realize that eating Moon Sugar was permitted. Perhaps I should ask the Ambassador–"

She hissed and waved one clawed hand. "Get out of here! I saw nothing."

He opened a door at the far side of the kitchen and we stepped inside. Pointing to a chest in the corner, he told me, "Your gear's in there."

I knelt down and opened the lid. Inside was my sword, bow, quiver of arrows, and lockpicks. Everything was in order.

"You didn't leave me anything for you to change into," Malborn pointed out. "You're not expecting to sneak through the Embassy in that, are you?"

I smirked. There was a low rustling as the voluminous, lacy black dress shifted into its form as a suit of light, close-fitting armor. Malborn stared at me, blinking with shock.

"I came prepared," I said.

As I strapped on my weapons and tucked away the picks, he seemed to shake out of his surprised state.

"I'll lock the door behind you. Don't screw this up."

"I wasn't planning on it. Good luck."

"You too. Now go. You're on your own now."

The moment I stepped out the door and into the hall, I heard the lock click behind me. Crouching down low, I slunk along, sticking to the shadows. Voices came from one of the rooms that led off the hall.

"Did you see those robes march in this morning? Who're they with? More of the Emissary's treaty enforcers?"

"No. They're high mages, just in from Alinor. I guess Herself is finally getting worried about all the dragon attacks."

I peered in through the doorway. Two armored Thalmor guards stood at the other end of the room, facing each other. I crept inside, careful not to make a sound. Nothing in there looked like it would be a place to store important documents. It just seemed like a living area. On the other side of the room was a door. It looked sturdier than the rest of the interior doors, so it probably led outside. I inched toward it.

"I've been wondering how we were supposed to defend this place from a dragon."

"If a dragon does show up, maybe we'll get lucky and it will eat the mages first. Might give us enough time to kill it."

"Ha. I'd like to see those arrogant bastards taken down a notch. Always looking down their noses at us lowly footsloggers."

I opened the door as they laughed loudly to muffle the sound and slipped outside.

I found myself in another courtyard. Snow covered pines stood tall outside the fence surrounding the place. On the courtyard's other side was another building, smaller than the one I'd just left. Most of the windows were dark. Hearing the sound of armored boots crunching over the snow, I hid behind the low walls ringing the courtyard's sunken middle and snuck toward the other building.

The door let in to a two-storied living area. Tables and benches sat in clusters around the room. A flight of stairs at the back led to the upper level. Just when I thought I was wasting my time, I caught a glimpse of a desk and some shelves in a side room near the back.

"But I need that money!" A man's voice whined from somewhere nearby. "I earned it! I have my own expenses, you know…"

"Silence!"

I froze and held my breath. The second, more imperious voice spoke again a moment later.

"Do not presume, Gissur," he said. "You are most useful, but do not presume. We have other informants who are less… offensive."

I continued across the room. Behind the desk was a barred chest. Pulling out my picks, I opened the lock. Inside were a couple small leather-bound journals, a note, and a key. With a start I noticed that one of the journals was labeled "Delphine." I flipped it open. She was labeled as "high priority," but they didn't seem to know where she was. Good. The other bore the label "Ulfric Stormcloak." I'd save that one for later.

The letter, however was more interesting.

First Emissary Elenwen,

We anticipate a breakthrough in our efforts to uncover the party or power behind the dragon resurrection phenomenon. An informant has identified a possible lead, whom we have brought back to the Embassy for a full interrogation. The subject is obstinate, but by all indications is holding back the information we seek. I have authorized Intermediate Manual Uncoiling – I do not expect more will be necessary, unless you feel time presses.

I know you prefer to be present for the final questioning; I will inform you immediately when the subject is fully receptive. Two days should tell the tale.

In the meantime, if you wish to audit our technique, your expertise is welcome, as always. I have placed the prisoner in the cell closest to your office stairs, for your convenience.

–Rulindil, 3rd Em.

So the Thalmor didn't have the information on the dragons, but they'd captured someone who did?

"But no one else has brought you such valuable information, have they?" The first man insisted loudly from the other room. "Etienne… he's talked, hasn't he? He knows where that old man is you're looking for, he told me himself."

"You'll get the rest of your money when we confirm his story. As agreed."

"So he has talked! I knew it!"

"Everyone talks in the end. Now, I have work to do. Leave me to it, if you ever want to see the rest of your payment."

They were looking for someone? Knowing the Thalmor, it wouldn't end well.

"Can I… I could help you. He'd talk to me. He trusts me."

"You'd like to come downstairs with me, is that is, Gissur? Shall we loose his bonds and put you in a cell together? You can ask him anything you like, and see how he answers."

"No, no! I'll… I'll wait outside."

"That would probably be best."

So they were keeping their prisoner downstairs. That must have been what the key was for. At the other end of the little room was a doorway leading to a set of stairs. At the bottom was a locked door. Sure enough, the key fit.

I made my way down through a series of short halls to a torture chamber. There was a rack and tables covered in wickedly sharp instruments. A wood-walled room set with metal bars jutted out from one of the walls. Inside I saw an armored guard facing a man chained to the wall. Beneath one of the barred windows, a robed Thalmor sat at a desk, writing on a piece of parchment.

"Stop, please!" The man in the cell begged. "I don't know anything else! Don't you think I'd have told you already?"

"Silence. You know the rules," the guard snapped.

From his place at the desk, the Thalmor said in a bored voice, "Let's begin again. Start at the beginning, as usual." Silence. "If you persist in this stubbornness, I'll have…"

"No, wait! I was just… catching my breath… Why wouldn't I tell you again? I don't even know anything… There's an old man. He lives in Riften. He could be this Esbern you're looking for, but I don't know. He's old and seemed kind of crazy. That's all I know."

"And his name is…?"

"I don't know his name. Like I've already told you a hundred–"

There was a loud thunk and the man let out an agonized scream.

"You know the rules. Just answer the questions. Where can we find this nameless old man?"

I readied an arrow.

"Like I said, I don't know! I've seen him down in the Ratway. Maybe he lives down there, but I don't know for sure."

"That will be all for now. I must say I continue to be disappointed in your lack of cooperation. I hope next time you will do better."

"What else do you want from me? I've already told you everything. Listen, if you let me go I can take you Riften, show you where–"

Another blow. Another scream.

"Silence, prisoner!"

The instant the Thalmor stood up from his chair my arrow buried itself deep in his back and he crumpled onto the desk. My second struck through the eye of the guard when she hurried out of the cell. Getting to my feet, I hurried over to the desk. Most of the notes were covered in blood from the dead mer, but there was another journal labeled "Esbern." I flipped it open.

Most of it discussed his role as a lorekeeper for the Blades, but one passage in particular caught my eye.

As we are still in the dark as to the cause and meaning of the return of the dragons, I have made capturing Esbern out top priority, as he is known to be one of the experts in the dragonlore of the Blades. Regrettably, we have yet to match their expertise on the subject of dragons, which was derived from their Akaviri origins and is still far superior to our own (which remains largely theoretical.

So that Esbern they were looking for seemed to have the information they wanted on the dragons, which I also wanted. And he was a Blade as well. Interesting.

Going into the cell, I knelt down before the imprisoned man. His face, arms, and bare chest were covered with purple bruises.

"I told you, I don't know anything else about it," he groaned.

"I'm not here to torture you."

He squinted up at me. "What? Who… What do you want then?"

"There's no time to explain," I said, hastily picking the locks binding his wrists to the wall above his head. "Let's get out of here."

He fell forward and glanced at his freed hands. Pointing, he said, "This way, I've seen the guards use it to get rid of bodies. It must lead somewhere."

"Hold on. You might know something important."

"I damn well hope so," he growled. "If it helps you twist them up, I'm glad to help. They're after some old guy named Esbern. Something to do with dragons, I gathered it from hearing to them talk when they thought I was out. I've seen a guy in Riften who they seem to think is him. Not much to go on – I don't even know where he lives, or his name, but they seemed pretty excited about it."

"Good enough. Let's go."

Before I could take more than two steps, I heard a voice ring out, "Listen up, spy! You're trapped in here, and we have your accomplice."

I looked up to see two Thalmor guards looking down at me from above. I drew my bow.

That was when I noticed that one of them had Malborn.

"Surrender immediately or you both die."

With a thunk, my arrow slammed into the forehead of the guard holding Malborn.

"Run!" I shouted at him.

He did, the second guard on his heels, and I hurried up the stairs to intercept them. The Bosmer ducked around me and I slammed my bow into the guard's face. When he crumpled, gasping, I shot him through the mouth.

As I undid the knots on the ropes binding Malborn's hands, he grumbled, "Now the Thalmor will be hunting me for the rest of my life. I hope it was worth it."

"I'm sorry about this, but I got what I came for. Let's go."