When Lucia looked back on that moment in later days, she supposed she was thankful to Rolff and his lackeys for getting involved. Braith seemed ready for the fight, some things didn't change, and Lucia doubted there were many places short of Oblivion that Blaise, Lars and Samuel wouldn't follow the Dragonborn Legate. But the others did not seem so convinced. The other two Honorhall Orphans had looked sceptical at being told their help would be needed while Alesan looked nervous. Britte, she knew, rarely did anything that did not directly benefit herself and Haming's face was as unreadable as a castle wall.

That was until he had got to his feet, nocked an arrow to his bowstring, pulled back and loosed, all in one fluid motion and before anyone had time to react. Now the young hunter's face showed the same contempt that Rolff's had shown just second ago, though that had now been replaced with rage. Three chairs clattered to the floor and weapons were grabbed from the table.

'You dare?' Rolff snarled, brandishing an evil looking iron mace. The thing looked as though it had been made from the melted remnants of a much larger weapon. One of his companions was holding an equally sinister iron war axe, the other held a steel sword and carried a shield showing a symbol that was both familar and unfamiliar. It looked like the roaring bear of Windhelm, only the bear was drawn in lines of bright gold, and was crowned, and it was set against a storm cloud grey backing. 'You'll pay for that, boy,' Rolff was saying, advancing on Haming while the hunter pulled another arrow from his quiver.

Lucia did not doubt that Haming could send an arrow straight between the bastard's eyes but she was also fairly sure he would not have chance to nock a third arrow before the other two set on him.

There was the scrape of chair legs against the wooden floor, and Runa Fair-shield was on her feet too, mace in hand and showing her own crest on her white painted round shield, a sword crossed with a blooming Dragon Tongue, mimicking the crossed swords of Riften. Second later there were more on their feet.

Joric, hefting his greatsword, Hroar, Alesan, the legionnaires, Braith, all of them, even Britte, were on their feet, drawing what weapons they had and looking at Rolff and the other two with considerable dislike. Taken aback for only a moment, Lucia drew her axe and walked out in front of the rest until she stood almost toe to toe with Rolff. Despite his age, he was still more than a head taller than she was but she did not let herself look intimidated. Instead she rested the head of her axe on her shoulder and looked coolly into Rolff's eyes.

'You're outnumbered,' she said, 'I think it'd be best if you just leave.'

Rolff sneered, though his eyes did dart around the group. 'Outnumbered by children,' he said, dismissively.

Lucia shrugged.

'True enough,' she said, 'but if you're not afraid to fight a bunch of children, we're ready.'

She lifted the axe off her shoulder and readied it. The others lifted their weapons. Rolff was clearly thinking fast. Despite his bold words, he knew he and the other two could not face so many. Ill equipped as some of Lucia's group were, they still outnumbered them three to one. He eyed Lucia's war axe.

'That's Nordic steel,' he growled, 'you have no right to hold that, imperial bitch!'

Lucia brought the axe blade up until it rested beneath Rolff's chin. To his credit, the man did not flinch.

'My father, the Lord Dragonborn, made it,' she said, careful to keep her voice free of tone. He had to think she was ready to use it, 'that gives me the right.'

Rolff clearly wanted to say something else but seemed to force himself to remain silent. Instead he let the haft of his mace slip through a leather loop on his belt.

'Come on,' he grunted to his cronies, who put away their own weapons, and followed their leader out, all three of them giving dark looks to the group, particularly at Lucia and the other imperials.

Only when she heard the door to the inn close behind them did Lucia allow herself to breath. Her axe fell from her loose and trembling fingers. She had not noticed how badly her legs had been shaking.

She felt the axe shaft being pressed back into her hand. Looking around she saw Braith, almost nose to nose with her.

'Don't let them see weakness,' she said, with utmost seriousness. For a moment, Lucia did not understand what she meant, then saw the others looking at her, most with concern, though Britte had raised an eyebrow.

Quickly, Lucia took her axe back from Braith, slipping it into her belt, and turned to look at the others.

'Thank you for your help,' she said, she hoped her voice sounded firm, 'and you can see there my point. There are those, even among Nords, who hate the Lord Uhther. They will oppose him on nothing else but principle. We can't just assume he'll get the support he needs. We need to be ready to fight for him.'

'But what are we supposed to do, exactly?' Britte asked. Her voice seemed to have lost some of its bitter tone but it was still rather antagonistic, 'the Dragonborn's going to be using the Legion I bet, and though I'm sure they're very brave,' she shot a sadistic smile at the three legionnaires which was not returned, 'I don't much feel like being one of his little soldiers.'

In spite of Britte's words, Lucia smiled. This was the part she definitely knew. Britte was not wrong. Lucia had no doubt that when the time came to act openly against the Thalmor, Uhther would trust to the legion to be the main attacking force, most likely strengthened by sellswords in his employ.

But Lucia had read enough histories, they were her favourite kinds of books, to know that before the Empire or the Aldmeri Dominion faced each other in the open, each would be making moves to quietly seize advantages over the other. The Blades had done it before the Great War, but they were all gone now, so Uhther would need someone else to fight his shadow war.

And before he'll let us do it, she thought, we'll need to prove ourselves.

'We won't need to be soldiers,' she said, aloud, indicating for them all to sit back down, 'we will fight as we choose to. But first we'll need to prove ourselves. We need to do something that will help the Dragonborn in his war against the Thalmor.'

She then, in hushed tones to make sure no one downstairs heard, explained what she had in mind. By the time she was finished, Blaise, Samuel, Lars and Runa were looking at her like she'd gone mad, Alesan and Hroar were both looking nervously excited, Haming was smiling a small smile, that was like laughter to him, Britte was looking reluctantly impressed and Braith looked eager. Joric was still smiling dreamily, though Lucia doubted that was anything to do with what she had said.

'We can't do that!' Lars spluttered, 'the city's under imperial control. It would be treachery!'

'I'm not talking about taking the city,' Lucia explained, with a calm she did not feel, 'just a few pieces of it. And you three can shout "For the Empire" while we're doing it, if it'll make you feel better.'

'But...' Lars began unhappily, but Braith laid a hand on his thigh.

'We can do it,' she said, and her voice had taken on a sultry note that Lucia had most certainly not heard there before, 'you'll be serving the Legate doing it. He might even promote you for it.'

Lars did not look convinced but, from the way he looked at Braith, and more importantly the way she looked at him, Lucia doubted he'd make any further objections. Blaise and Samuel rolled their eyes, clearly amused.

'Obviously, this will not be without risk,' Lucia said, 'and some of you may not want to join us in this. If that's the case, you can leave now.' She pointed towards the stairs. Her heart was in her mouth. Lars and the others might refuse. But no one moved. The legionnaires still looked a little unhappy, yet also resolute.

'We stand with you,' Samuel finally said, his voice a little shaky but bold, 'for the Dragonborn.'

'For the Dragonborn!' Blaise and Lars repeated. And, before Lucia knew it, everyone else around the table was nodding and repeating the same thing. Even Britte, though she did lack some of the enthusiasm.

'For the Dragonborn!' Hroar and Runa said together. They were the last.

'Very well then,' Lucia said, quietly relieved, 'we will need to leave as soon as we can, tomorrow if possible.'

'We need a name,' Braith said. She had been one of the first to repeat the pledge to Uhther, but had paused afterwards, looking thoughtful.

Lucia was taken aback. 'What?' she said.

'Well we are a band now,' she said, looking around for confirmation, and no one denied it, 'and all the best groups of warriors from history have names. Like the Companions, or the Blades.'

'The Dragon fights with Thu'um and wing,' Joric suddenly said, loudly, causing everyone, even Haming, to jump, 'its enemies fear its mighty roar. But no less deadly are its fangs, mighty tooth and ripping claw.'

Nobody said a word. Everyone had their eyes on Joric, expecting him to say more, but the young man simply continued staring, half vacantly, out the window. Lucia remembered her father saying that the son of the Jarl of Morthal had been exposed to raw magicka and was sometimes given to funny turns, though there were some who called them visions.

It was clear that Joric wasn't going to say anything else so Lucia turned her attention away. Her eyes met Braith's. The Redguard woman looked as though she was considering something.

'Something to think about there,' she said.