The smell of the mortals was palpable, nipping at her deadened senses even through the film of moist earth. Their blood surged with vigorous scents of fear and trepidation as she stalked amongst them. A balding man averted his steely grey eyes from her as soon as their gazes inadvertently met. A young woman shuffled her mud and ink smeared face further into the shadows as Serana strode by.

She tried to keep her prying eyes away from people as much as she could, but it was difficult for her to simply ignore the feeling of having dozens watching her. Even in her concealing robes, streaked with mud and rain as much as everyone's clothes around her, they knew something was different about her. She did not doubt that they were unaware of her true nature, just as Cedric was though- if they were not, they would not be so passively avoiding her presence.

A thin hiss slipped out between her gritted teeth as she braced her aching shoulders against the biting strap that tied the cask to her back, only all too aware of the weight bearing down on her.

Peering up from underneath her hood when she could hear the voices near the gate more clearly, she found, with some brief sense of relief, that they had almost made it through the camp without incident. She could only hope that would hold true for passing the gates.

She slowed her brisk pace down to an idle shuffle as she walked into earshot of the cluster of people around the gate, only now at a distance where she noticed the differences in their attire. Whereas those who remained sitting under their tents and what little shelter they could find in the rain behind them were dressed in dirty grey tunics or the tattered remains of what might've been tunics, the ones before her and Cedric now were adorned in finely knit coats, rich tones of greens and browns which were darkened by rain but unsullied by mud.

And judging from the way they spoke to the gate guard, they sported a different attitude to match as well. The words were muddled by the surprising volume of bodies standing before them, but the voices she could discern were pitched high with equal parts desperate urgency and haughty arrogance.

They didn't so much as budge by the time she and Cedric walked up to the back of the congregation.

A grimace worked over her lips as she shuffled to a stop, seeing no easy way through or around the crowd. She supposed they could always try to scale the wooden wall that had been erected, but she didn't exactly feel like pissing off whoever built it.

"Hey," she called out to a man in front of her. When he didn't so much as acknowledge her, she reached out and gently tapped on his shoulder. The sumptuous fabric of his coat was still warm to the touch, even coated in a thin sheen of rain.

The glare that he fixed her with in response, however, was anything but warm. With no cowl or hood to speak of, the rain had soaked into the young man's meticulously braided locks of golden blonde hair, quite unpleasantly tangling it all up. She could only imagine that was but one reason for the scowl etched into his otherwise rather fair face.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"None of your business, peasant. Go back to the camp with the rest, and don't ever presume to touch me again."

The man turned away before she could even open her mouth to further elaborate. Frustration bubbled in her veins, but she kept herself from more forcefully trying to get his attention again. It seemed quite clear that he- or any of the backs turned to her, for that matter- had no interest in hearing her out. For the moment, she could only entertain herself with the fact that somebody had called her a peasant.

"These aren't like the rest," whispered Serana back to Cedric, dropping back a little to distance them from the crowd. "You know who they are?"

She watched from the corner of her vision as Cedric's piercing blue eyes scanned upwards, his lips pressing out into a pointed grimace after a few moments. "Not specifically. But I know the look of Markarth nobility."

"Not a fan of them, I take it?"

There was a hardness in his expression she'd not seen before, an edge to his voice not yet heard. "They're either slave owners or family of slave owners. I was less than dirt to these kinds of people."

Considering how the one she'd just spoken to had addressed her, she could certainly believe that.

"I take it the feeling's mutual then?"

A stern nod in response. It was interesting how quickly anger tempered the demeanor of mortals. She might've offered Cedric a smile and pat on the back if not for their current circumstances.

"Doesn't seem like they're keen to leave anytime soon. We're gonna have to make our way through the crowd. Think you can handle that?"

There was a moment's hesitation in Cedric; understandable, seeing how she'd just been playing off his indignancy, validating it, and now telling him to keep it in check. She saw his hands tighten into fists, the delicate skin stretching over bone.

"Yeah."

"Good."

She reached out and took him by the hand, her fingers wrapping around one of his clenched fists. Before he could object, she tugged him along behind her, only all too eagerly pushing past the foul-faced young man who she'd spoken to prior. It was a firm, not excessive force that she brushed by him with, but he stumbled aside as though he'd been struck by a charging cavalry horse. "Sorry. Just passing through," Serana called out, a hint of smugness managing to worm its way into her words under the falsely sweet apology.

A ripple of reaction travelled through the crowd as she and Cedric started plowing through it, cries of shock and surprise giving way to indignant shouts of only increasing intensity with every nobleman and woman they barged past. The surge of blood in each body she brushed against flowed hotter than the last, but none seemed to eclipse the thumping pulse of Cedric's heart, travelling through his hands to her.

Bizarrely, she found herself having to suppress the sharp-toothed grin threatening to claw its way past the rigid muscles in her jaw. It almost felt as though the rising thirst in the back of her throat channeled her movements- and she didn't give a damn at all about pushing a little harder past each person standing in her way.

"Enough! What's going here?"

The voice cut through the crowd like a honed blade through cloth, momentarily silencing all the errant voices which were bellowing out at her. She didn't stop, even as the chaotic movements around her slowed- if anything, she only redoubled her efforts, tightening her grip on Cedric and pushing harder to get through the crowd during the lull.

It didn't last.

"What the fuck are you just standing around for? Do something!"

"Quiet! All of you disperse!"

"To Oblivion with you! We're not going anywhere until we hear back from the general!"

Just as the clamoring threatened to bubble up again, Serana managed to push herself and Cedric up to the forefront. Nonchalantly, acting as though the gate guard wasn't glaring steely daggers at her, she brushed a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes from under her hood and thinned the toothy grin plastered on her face into a soft smile.

"Hi."

"'Hi'? That's all you have to say for yourself, you little bitch?" Spat the man standing next to the guard. His stony Nordic features were creased into a sneer, the snarls clashing with what could've been a well groomed and comely face. "Barging through like this-" His expression only grew darker when he caught sight of Cedric behind her. "-and with some goatfucking Reachman in tow, no less."

She felt Cedric's fist tightening in her grip. She gave him a light squeeze back, hoping it would be enough to settle him down. The smile dropped off her lips, along with any pretense of being civil.

"Leave him out of this. We're just passing through."

"Oh just passing through now, are we? And that somehow takes precedence over the concerns of the Jarl of Markarth's court, does it?"

"If the Jarl of Markarth's court is concerned with blocking off the whole damn road for the entire day, then yes."

The man took a step forward, hands which didn't look like they'd ever lifted anything heavier than a book as of late balling up into fists of his own.

Serana flexed her fingers, a disturbing rush of anticipation surging through her dead veins.

Before the situation could spiral out of hand, however, the gate guard stepped in. The metallic scrape of a blade being unsheathed rang out over the rain, the shrill sound seeming to be enough to freeze the offending nobleman in place. "Thonar. I won't tolerate you carrying out blatant assault on a citizen. And as far as I'm concerned, she has a point. You're hindering Imperial operations in processing Solitude citizens and traders."

The nobleman, apparently named Thonar, scoffed. He didn't bother to even look at the guard directly. "So that's how it's going to be then?"

"I have told you already, General Tullius is well aware of the Forsworn situation in the Reach. I have no word from him or anyone else yet on whether we can commit our forces to taking it back. You're wasting your efforts barking at me."

"Yes, of course. What else could be expected from the Empire? You, who abandoned us the last time we called for aid against the Forsworn savages."

"That was different," the guard replied, voice just hovering above a snarl of his own. "Need I remind you that the Legion had to fight for its own survival against the Aldmeri Dominion?"

"Yes, do remind me, Hadvar, how did the Legion fare against those wretched elves? They failed. The Empire failed the Reach. Can you say the same for the rebellion which you fight against now?"

Silence fell over the road, pregnant with the sound of the ever-ongoing rain splattering against cobblestone.

She glanced between Thonar and the guard, Hadvar if she'd heard correctly- though Thonar still had his back turned, both held their steely gazes and stone set lips as though they were directly staring each other down. Cedric's heartbeat pulsed against her skin, the sensation drumming on her skull in the stillness. Her palm was slick with a mixture of the rain and his sweat.

She didn't dare loosen her grip on Cedric until Thonar, with nary another word or gesture, strode past them. Only when she heard the myriad of footsteps behind them start splashing away did she let the breath she'd been holding in seethe through gritted teeth.

That just left Hadvar.

Gently, Serana tugged on Cedric's hand, noting with some relief that he had allowed it to relax out of its clenched state- a spark of surprise flicked at her senses mid-stride when she noticed his fingers twining around her own.

Briefly startled, she glanced back around at him beyond the edge of her hood, catching the gaze of those blue eyes. There was an intensity to them she could almost feel smoldering there now, bubbling under the surface of the irises. His mouth had parted as though to say something, but was frozen in place, leaving a delicate little opening with puffs of steam trailing quietly out into the cold air.

"Are you ok?" She whispered gently.

Cedric blinked, and the look in his eyes flickered away. His mouth snapped shut, and he merely gave a nod in response.

"We're almost through this, just hang in there," She murmured, as much to herself as Cedric while she made her final approach towards Hadvar. The gate guard in question still seemed to have his attention set intently further down the road, lips pressed together in a sharp frown that seemed like it could burst into a snarl at any moment. If the rain soaking through his leather armor and the loose strands of brown hair dangling in front of his eyes bothered him, he did not show it- his expression was set like a statue.

"My apologies, citizens," he spoke plainly and rigidly. "You should not have been made to suffer the presence of that wretch."

"Bold way of talking about a nobleman behind his back," replied Serana, an approving smile nonetheless tugging at her lips.

"That man is noble in name only." He sighed, shaking his head as though attempting to shed the grimace etched into his face. It didn't work very well. He looked down at the short sword gripped in his hands, eyes blank of any expression for a solid several seconds of stillness. It took another while for him to sheath the blade again, his arms seeming to move with a deliberate sluggishness, as though he were consciously holding himself back from moving too forcefully.

He fixed them both with a cold gaze, eyes running up and down both of their forms.

"So. What business have you here? You don't look like traders. Or Solitude townsfolk for that matter."

"We're just passing through," repeated Serana.

Hadvar's frown deepened.

"There's nothing beyond Solitude except the coast. Where are you travelling to?"

"Why do you need to know?" She rebuked calmly.

Shit. Hadvar's armor left his arms bare, the muscles in plain sight. Though his tone of voice did not change and he did not make any overtly aggressive motions, she could see him tensing up again already. The skin on his arms stretched taut, running slick with rainwater.

"In case you haven't noticed, the Empire is at war in Skyrim. Enemy scouts and messengers threaten us on all fronts. Smugglers are more active than ever before. Refugees come trailing in from all parts of the province. It's our business to know what the intentions of everyone passing this wall are."

What Empire?

She didn't dare ask that, though the question burned in her mind. Even from just listening to Thonar and Hadvar going at it, she had a wagonful of questions already.

Just exactly how long had she been asleep for?

"So. I'll ask you again, citizen. What business do you have here?"

She looked him the eye, standing just ever so slightly taller than him. It was a dangerous thing to do, with the conjured illusion of her eyes hiding their true nature being something that a particularly keen eye could see through- but from what she could remember, people were often more inclined to believe she was telling the truth when she did that.

…it had worked with Cedric so far, hadn't it?

After another moment of deliberation, she spoke.

"My father's sick," she said calmly, reigning back the vehemence that she yearned so desperately to inject into those words. She let her mind go blank, trying to lose herself in a web of lies and fantasy to escape from the truth she knew she had to face soon enough. The resonance of those lies with the truth was too difficult to shake though. "He has been for… a while. He owns a small fishing shack in the far north. I was born there, lived with him all my life."

A lump weighed in her throat, and her lip quivered.

"The sickness came out of nowhere, hit us like a brick. Shattered our quiet little life. Left him crippled in the head."

She took a breath to steady herself, the shakes running through her body all too real for her comfort.

"I don't know if this will cure him," she said, rolling her shoulders in a fingerless gesture towards the cask slung over her back. "But I have to try."

"And him?" Hadvar asked bluntly, nodding towards Cedric. "What's his business with you?"

The image of Cedric's smoldering blue eyes flared up in her mind, accompanied by the… particularly intense memories she had of his blood. Throbbing, pulsating. Like it was now, their fingers still intertwined.

"He helped me. And I'm returning the favor. He doesn't have anywhere else to go."

"I see," replied Hadvar, but he made no indication that they could pass.

Droplets of water spattered against her hood in muted impacts, drumming on her ears. Raindrops had been collecting on her face for a while now, her senses having been numb to the sensation. She couldn't tell if the wetness she felt trailing down her cheek now had come from her eyes or the rain.

"It's standard procedure for me to search the belongings of whoever passes through here. Would you object to that?"

"…You wouldn't like what you'd find."

It was a subtle movement, but Serana noticed Hadvar's hand inching up towards the blade sheathed at his hip. He stopped halfway through the motion, never breaking eye contact with her.

"You're not making a very good case for yourself, citizen. Smugglers come through here with sad tales more convincing than yours every day. You can either subject to a search or I'll have no choice but to assume the worst and forcibly seize your belongings."

The lump in her throat only grew heavier when those words touched upon her ears, the magicka channeling through her veins almost sickening to her senses.

"I can't do that," she said barely above a whisper, her voice finally losing the momentum which had been powering her onwards over the course of days. Unaware of the threat to him, Hadvar clasped the grip of his sword.

"Don't make me do this," she pleaded in one last attempt, shards of conjured ice beginning to collect in her one free hand, hidden under the sleeve of her robes.

She had to fight the urge to squeeze her eyes shut.

This fucking Elder Scroll. How many people had to die for it?

"Please, no. Don't hurt her," stammered Cedric from behind her. His sudden exclamation, shaky as it was, was enough to stop Hadvar- and in another sense, Serana as well. Surprised, both pairs of eyes turned towards him.

For all the fear and uncertainty in his words, his expression betrayed none of the same. He held Hadvar's gaze with a firm focus, his hand gripping Serana's gently.

"I… swear to you, sir, the only lie she's told is that I helped her. I've done nothing for her, and yet she took me in. She's the kindest soul I've met. She doesn't deserve this."

"That's very charitable of her," replied Hadvar, unmoved by Cedric's profession- if anything just turning back to her with more suspicion.

"It is, sir. It would be immensely cruel if the world were to repay her kindness by denying her the chance of curing her father."

Part of her wanted to scream what the fuck are you doing to Cedric- but a greater part of her recognized that her own plan had already come down in a fiery shipwreck anyways. It couldn't get worse, could it?

"What am I to do then, citizen? Let this woman through on your accounts of her kindness- and run the risk of her feeding the skooma addictions of countless Imperial citizens? I knew a kind woman who lived in Whiterun, once. Last I heard of her, she was arrested for dealing in sleeping tree sap."

Serana could only shake her head. The magickal ice forming in her free hand dissipated, and she brought it up to swipe away the streams of liquid on her face.

"I knew a man who was addicted to skooma once. I knew lots of men and women like that, working in the mines. Enough to know that cutting off one shipment of skooma won't cure anyone. But if you cut off a daughter carrying medicine for her father…"

She looked back at Hadvar after quietly clearing out her eyes, noticing with barely suppressed incredulity that his hard expression had softened with Cedric's last argument. His hand still hovered around his sword, but he seemed far less inclined to use it now.

"I-"

Hadvar held up a hand before she could say anything else.

"Go."

With that, he pivoted on his heel, striding towards the gate. It creaked open on its hinges as his muscled arms pushed them open, then stood to the side, holding the doors open for her and Cedric. His gaze was firmly set on the road.

Tentatively, still slowly overcoming the mess of emotions churning around inside her, Serana led Cedric through the open gate. She pondered bidding the guard- Hadvar- farewell, but her numbed mind couldn't conjure anything that seemed appropriate to say. Perhaps that was for the best. Hadvar seemed quite keen on pretending she simply didn't exist.

Fuck.

Subconsciously, she found herself squeezing Cedric's hand in a gesture of thanks as they crossed the threshold. He returned it in kind.