Opening Notes; Since the start of this story, it has been almost a whole year. A year of ups and downs, of trials and tribulations, but at last, I am nearing the end. The final chapters are coming, it's only a matter of time from here. Wherever this goes, I hope everyone has enjoyed this story as much as I have in writing it.

Also, thank you Doctor Eagle and Darkstorm Zero for your continued aid in this endeavor.

The Rills

Monahven

Three days later...

It had been a long road to get this far, but Dranos was truly in awe of what laid before her. Veezara merely smirked, letting the old warrior look upon what her granddaughter had built in as little of a year. "They've been busy." The Argonian replied, chuckling even as he too felt strangely awed by just how much progress they had made since his journey to Tarth had begun. "It's good to be home." The assassin muttered quietly as he pressed his horse onward at a slow canter, in no hurry now that he was safe within Monahven's borders, within Giselle's borders he corrected himself.

Crossing the diverted river that now flowed through the center of town was an easy task thanks to the stone bridges that spanned it. The stone paved road that was already well on its way to connecting with the Kingsroad still had a long way to go, but they had seen its beginning just as they began to descend into the valley floor with the mountains on their right. A side road was already being dug out by atronach laborers, their mage masters close at hand to supervise the work as they made their way to Barrowton and eventually further north if he were any judge. While it was still a long way away, Veezara couldn't help but think of Solitude when he looked at Monahven now.

There were clear signs of guard walls being raised around the city, giving it multiple 'rings' where men and women could defend Monahven from all invaders. He imagined when they were done, ballistea and other siege weapons would be planted all along them, as well as archers, mages, and common soldiers. The fact each ring grew considerably taller than the last didn't escape his notice, allowing archers and their catapults to shoot over the outlying walls without fear of hitting their allies, but they were still a long way off from being completed. Even so, the progress was astounding, only proving their faith in Giselle was well placed.

Veezara watched Brienne as she stared in awe of the progress that was being made. "Are you certain you haven't been here longer than a year Veezara?"

"Indeed. But we are not an idle people." Was the Argonian's response. "Give us a task, and we set to it with everything we've got. Just look around."

As Brienne did so, she could see the growing castle walls and the people within the village, all doing their part. The methods involved however were….strange to her. Magic was still a new part of her understanding of their world, but she saw plenty of examples of their use of the mystical force, as if it were the most normal thing for them. The outermost wall alone had dozens of summoned creatures lifting heavy blocks of stone, while what Dranos and Veezara identified as mages directed them or lifted similar heavy objects with a wave of their hands. While they employed far more mundane means that she was used to, she like most of those following her couldn't tear their eyes away from the many exotic sights before them. "You truly come from a world unlike anything I could imagine Dranos."

"One cannot simply talk of Tamriel and her many peoples. You have to experience them for yourself." Dranos agreed, smiling warmly upon her friend as her own eyes fell upon a familiar sight. The Temple of the Divines, or at least its much smaller cousin, she identified as they rode down the main cobble stoned street. On both sides of the road, she could see inns, houses, shops, and more that she recognized with ease as having come from her homeland. "As for being surrounded by marvels, I only see what I lost so many years ago. I've come home, and despite my eventual meeting with my granddaughter, I could not be happier right now."

"My apologies Dranos. Here I am, staring slack jawed at all this, and you must be nearly overcome by so many emotions right now at being able to see your people again."

"Don't," Dranos had a sad smile on her face, "You have every right to be amazed. I'll be alright. I am just grateful I was given this chance at all."

"I'm sure Giselle would be glad to see you again," Veezara offered.

"Let us hope so."

It was then that Korbin finally opened his mouth, ruining the moment. "Well, since I got you folks here safe and sound, I wager I'm owed our payment. I might stick around for a few days though, see what this place is all about now that I've made it this far."

"You'll get your pay," Dranos snapped, "Be patient."

"How long?"

"I said you'll get your pay. I won't renege on our deal, mercenary. But you will wait or you'll get nothing. I haven't seen my granddaughter in almost two centuries. Let me survive this meeting, then you will get your money." She spat out before riding ahead of the group.

Korbin rolled his eyes. "Fine. Come on fellas, let's see what they have to drink around here." With that, Korbin and his men rode away from Brienne and the refugees they had helped get to Monahven.

"I hate mercenaries," Dranos mumbled as she watched them ride away.

"I can kill them for you, if you want," Veezara quipped. "They won't even know I was there. And I won't even charge you."

"Maybe later." Dranos muttered, half tempted to take the Argonian up on his offer. "Come on, lead the way to her Veezara. Let me….get this over with. I've put this off far too long as it is."

"As you wish. Follow me." Veezara kicked his horse into a gallop, Dranos following close behind while Brienne stayed behind to tend to the refugees. As they rode up the cobble road, Dranos' eyes fell upon the main castle. Veezara saw her staring and chuckled. "She doesn't do anything small."

"I've noticed." The dunmer replied as they were allowed through the front gate, and her red eyes fell on the trio of dragon statues in the main courtyard. "Are these her dragon companions?"

"Indeed. Odahviing, Durnerhving, and Parthuurnax, the eldest and wisest of them. Well, the oldest one that's truly alive anyway."

As they approached the main gate, Lydia, one of the Dragonguard, approached them. "Veezara, you look like hell."

"I've been through it, but it's good to see you again Lydia." Veezara looked down at her growing baby bump, "You look bigger."

"Shut up and get in there, hornface." The Housecarl grumbled, but she smirked all the same as she patted her swelling belly. Before they got too far though, she looked to his companion. "A dunmer? Where did you find her? And where's Nazir?"

"That's….a long story."

Lydia read between the lines well enough and nodded sadly. "I'm sorry. As for you, I don't know who you are, but welcome to Monahven."

"Thank you. It's….good to be home."

"Shall I get Giselle?" Lydia asked.

"I think she already knows we're here." the Argonian replied, "I saw her… 'eyes' when we came back."

Lydia knew who he was referring to. "Can you blame her?"

"Nope, it's reassuring she's so vigilant." Veezara replied as he dismounted about the same time Dranos did before handing his horse's reins to a passing stableboy. "It means she'll live longer than most in this backwards country."

"Why do you think we're still here?" Lydia retorted, snorting in amusement before looking at Dranos's back in renewed interest. There was something awfully familiar about the way she carried herself. Could she be-no, surely she couldn't be…. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, she left the castle grounds, having a thousand other things to worry about.

Veezara and Dranos entered the castle, the dragon skeleton still hanging from the ceiling. The dunmer could hardly believe all that her granddaughter had accomplished so much as she passed under the beast's bones, and slowly approached the grand banquet table before her, and the throne that was beyond that. "This is truly amazing Veezara. I can hardly believe this is all hers."

"She didn't want it." Veezara stated softly.

"What, why?"

"Because I know what power does to those that don't appreciate it." Dranos stopped in mid step as her eyes fell on the side passage at the far end of the hall, where Giselle herself and another woman had just come from. She couldn't look away as the dragon plated warrior slowly crossed the hall towards her and Veezara. She doubted she'd have needed to see Giselle in all of her battle hardened glory to know it was her. She recognized the set of her jaw, her gleaming brown eyes, the way she carried herself. All of it screamed Morgonnis to her. Giselle, however, had not yet noticed her until Dranos softly called out her name. When she did, her shock was palpable as she too stopped in mid stride. "You made it?" She managed to get out, visibly thunderstruck to the point Dranos was sure if not for the other woman's support, Giselle might have fallen over.

"I did." Dranos all but whispered, her red eyes misting over despite her fear of what she knew was likely coming. She had left Giselle after all, and while her reasons had been just, having tried to deal with the rising Thalmor threat, she had still left her and her parents.

"You were gone for years. Everyone thought you'd died, and yet here you are."

"And yet here I am." Dranos echoed with a solemn nod of her head.

"You didn't write to me. To anyone. Your daughter, my mother died, thinking you had abandoned us."

"I was in a Thalmor cell for most of it. They don't exactly allow people to send letters." Dranos snapped back, but sighed as she took a hesitant step forward. "Then I was sent out to sea to die. But I didn't. I found my way here, somehow. By Azura's grace or the Divines, I have no idea."

Giselle's hard gaze softened upon hearing her grandmother was imprisoned in a Thalmor cell. She'd seen what they did to prisoners during her own attacks against them in Skyrim. It hadn't been pretty. "And now you're here. When I got your letter….I almost burned it after I dropped it in shock. But you have Serana here to thank for my actually opening it and finding out you were in Tarth, leading the survivors here."

"Thank you for your honesty. ...I can't blame you for considering it, not after how long it's been." Dranos took another step forward, and when Serana stopped Giselle from stepping back, her respect for the pale faced woman went up considerably. Vampire or not, which she was if Dranos's eyes didn't deceive her, she at least seemed to want them to start rebuilding their relationship, such as it was. Looking down at her armor covered hands, Dranos quickly pulled them apart when she realized she was wringing them together. "Can we...start over? I know it's asking a lot Giselle, but….I'm the only family you have, and you're the only family I have. I don't want us to be enemies….not after everything we've been through in our own ways."

Giselle bit her lip as she thought for a moment. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke, "Would you care for some lunch?"

It wasn't much, but it was a start. "I'd like that." Dranos replied softly, just glad they were having a civilized conversation at all. It was far more than she could have ever hoped for.

Meanwhile, Brienne was surprised when several complete strangers helped her find suitable places for her and the refugees they had brought to Monahven. Staring at the giant of a man next to her, his heavily bearded face and the gruff way he presented himself contrasted sharply with the gentle heart he had underneath. A fact only made more prominent as he let one of the youngest of their group ride on one massive armored shoulder as they made their way to an orphanage, he explained. "Who are you ser?" Brienne asked, unable to keep her eyes from wandering over the man.

"Farkas of the Companions. And a member of Giselle's Dragonguard." Was his gruff, blunt response.

"The Companions?"

"Heh, guess I shouldn't be surprised, Brienne was it? Stick around, I'll be glad to tell you all about the Companions. But in the meantime, what do you think of Monahven?"

"It's astonishing, to say the least. Lady Morgonnis's stories of her homeland did not prepare me for the reality."

Farkas could only stop and stare at Brienne for several seconds before he put the pieces together. "You mean you rode into town with her long lost grandmother? Today just got a lot more interesting. Still, Ysgramor willing, we'll have a city after they're done tearing each other apart."

"Did they part on such unfriendly terms?"

"No, but Dunmer have long memories to go with their long lives. She left Giselle and her parents, that's something she's carried around for a long time. Giselle came to Jorrvaskr with that and more weighing her down. Old man Greymane tried to help her, even managed to take some of that weight off her shoulders, but he was cut down by Silver Hand bastards not long after they met. He was the best of us Companions."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Bah, it was a long time ago now. My point is though, if we survive the night without those two trading blows, I'll be surprised."

"Why do you smell like wet dog?" The child on his shoulder asked, eliciting a deep rumbling laugh from Farkas while Brienne could only chuckle.

"Maybe I like the rain ya little skeever." Farkas quipped back as he grinned up at the girl on his shoulder. "You certainly look small enough."

"What's a skeever? Can I see one?" The girl asked, her big blue eyes shining excitedly. Her questions only earned her another deep laugh from the great beast of a man.

"When you grow up a bit to swing a sword, sure. I'll take ya skeever hunting." With that, Farkas easily deposited the child on the ground in front of him before gently pushing her towards the inviting stone and wood building before them. "Go on, they'll take care of you here kiddo until a good family comes to take ya." Only after she had gone inside did Farkas turn to address Brienne's unspoken question. "No child should grow up alone and afraid. My twin and I were lucky, we were raised with the Companions. Not everyone is so lucky."

"I know the feeling," Brienne said softly. Passing by a group of Korbin's men though, something in the way they were subtly trying to look around sent her senses on alert. Before she could comment on it though, Farkas grabbed her arm and led her away. "Wha-"

"Don't look at them, keep moving." He warned quietly, only further puzzling the knight from Tarth. Only when they had left them behind did the man stop and smirk over his shoulder. "We have a friend in King's Landing. She told us an old….acquaintance of Giselle's was planning to start trouble. I'm willin' to bet those mercenaries are hers."

"And we led them right to you."

"You didn't know, but we do. We already have eyes on them, don't worry. Whatever they got in mind, they won't get a chance to cause trouble." Farkas chuckled again before starting back towards the wagon train. They still had a lot of people to help out. "So what's your story?" He asked as picked up a heavy chest as if it weighed nothing at all.

"There is not much to tell. I was a Tarth, but now I am nothing. The Thalmor saw to that."

"A woman of few words, and you're dressed as a knight. I say there's more to you than you think."

"Well, I am still good with a sword. I helped Dranos, Veezara, and Nazir cut down more than a few of the Thalmor that had invaded my home."

"That's no easy feat, but you had a good cause behind your blade. Sometimes that's all you need."

"And what of you?"

"You've heard most of what there is to tell. I follow the Harbinger, I fight for her people, my brothers and sisters in the Companions, and for my own glory so that I might see Sovngarde as she did when I fall." Technically, it'd be Hircine's Hunting Grounds, but she didn't need to know that. "This adventure has been a bit more exciting than I was prepared for, but I wouldn't trade what I've seen here for anything. But that's the thrill of being a Companion, going into the unknown, forging a new path for honor and glory. Can't get much better than this."

"You have a very simple if rather elegant view of the world." Brienne replied, surprised by the man's depth. Underneath his brawn, she was starting to see something more.

"I might not have my brother's smarts, but I got the good looks." He chuckled after setting down the chest by the inn's front door before going back to the wagon to help unload more items.

"I cannot argue with that."

"You aren't so bad on the eyes yourself."

"Now I know you're blind." Brienne retorted, sharper than she had intended, but she had been down this road before.

"It's the truth," Farkas replied, undeterred. "For all the fighting you've likely done, I don't see any scars."

"Not all scars need to be on the surface to still be felt."

"Maybe not, but when I say someone's easy on the eyes, I mean it. You've been teased about your looks before I take it." Farkas couldn't understand why. She might have appeared rough in all the wrong places by anyone else's standards, but he was no prize himself despite his comment earlier.

Brienne scoffed as her mind went back to the names she had been called, one in particular coming to the forefront of her thoughts. "Brienne the Beauty I've been called, in jest."

"Then whoever made that joke were the blind ones. They should have been gutted and their entrails used as garters."

Brienne raised an eyebrow, "That was...surprisingly specific."

"I'm not one for pretty words or dancing around. I say what I mean."

"Oh, straightforward and honest?"

"It's how I am." Was Farkas's simple answer.

"So you are." Brienne replied, getting the feeling she wouldn't be such an outcast here after all. Perhaps she'd find a place to call her own in this strange land, sooner than she had originally thought if Farkas was any indication of the rest of the people here.

Essos

Pentos

The next morning…

Eldria hadn't been prepared for Illyrio's abrupt arrival the last time he'd been to their new estate, but she was prepared this time. She was even happy to note they had caught up with the merchant's demands, and had even been able to make several extra suits of armor. But that wasn't what had her in such a good mood. It had taken Justicar Aldevi time, but he had found a sufficiently alluring Altmer woman among their meager number. She was standing directly behind Eldria, her head bowed, looking for all intents and purposes, like the obedient servant. She was anything but, since the Thalmor served no one but themselves. But no one would be the wiser, not in this world anyway. This plan wouldn't have worked in Nirn. But here… no one knew anything about their race, and that would work to their advantage.

Eldria had assembled her personal guards and her spy in front of their estate, and weren't disappointed as soon after, Illyrio's caravan rolled before the tree lined stone pathway that led to the palatial home they had been able to acquire for themselves. She had to hide her smirk as she looked over her shoulder, nodding her approval of the Altmer's chosen dress for this occasion. While most of Eldria's people still favored their armors and robes, even in the comfort of their new home, the 'servant' had opted for a crimson, low cut robe with a plunging neckline, showing off her soft curves and golden skin to all who looked upon her. Her golden hair was done up in an intricate bun, ensuring that her sharply pointed ears and her long neck was also on display. Around her neck was a golden necklace, with a ruby set in the middle. It was enchanted of course, to ensure if someone got the bright idea to poison her, it wouldn't work.

"Ah, Lady Eldria Joroth, it is good to see you again." Illyrio said after being helped down from his richly decorated wagon by his slave attendants. "And judging by what I see before me, you've more than met your quota this time."

"We have Lord Mopatis. I wanted to apologize for the other day, so I personally oversaw their creation. As you can see," Eldria had her men open the box before her, revealing several sharp elven blades and axes all neatly piled within, "they are all there. Including the curved arakhs you requested. But that does make me wonder, why the Dothraki would want them? How did they pay for them if they don't believe in money?"

"It's a bribe, I'll admit." Illyrio replied as he picked up one of the weapons in question. "Even I have to keep them at bay somehow, and I do so in many ways. Weapons and armor is normally enough, but they occasionally want more. Slaves mostly."

Eldria was again defeated at her own game, knowing there was more to Illyrio than he presented, but this time, she had a backup plan. "It makes sense Lord Mopatis. They're savages after all."

"Perhaps, but even savages have their uses." Illyrio stated as he put the arahk down before his eyes fell on the woman behind Eldria. Much to the Thalmor's glee, he couldn't tear his gaze away immediately. "Come forward my dear. I would have a closer look at you."

Eldria feigned ignorance to his interest and looked over her surprise in puzzlement. "My handmaiden? Why would you be interested in her?" Take the bait you fat slug.

"Look at her," Illyrio was no doubt entranced by the Altmer's beauty, "I am sure someone would love to have her by their side. She is a rare jewel among Pentos, Lady Joroth. I would pay quite handsomely if you were to give her up."

Eldria had to bite her tongue to stop herself from revealing her glee, and hesitantly put her hands on the Altmer's shoulders. "Would she be treated well? I do not wish to lose her only to hear she was being abused."

"I promise you that she will be treated as the rare jewel she is. Such a treasure will not be squandered. I did not get as far as I have by wasting valuable resources, or by sullying such beauty as you have at your side. Everything has a price, and the right person that will pay it."

Human greed and lust. Two things that will always be their downfall. Eldria thought, grinning mentally as they began to haggle over price. "What are you offering for her?" Personally, Eldria didn't care for material gain, only that it helped fund her operations across the Narrow Sea, but for Illyrio she had to make this look legitimate. So when he went low, she went high, far higher than he was expecting from the way his eyebrows shot to his forehead. Her explanation was simple, the Altmer were exceptional rarities in this world, and Illyrio had to nod since she had a point. Even so, by the time they settled on a price they were both happy with, Eldria had almost run out of patience even when five small chests full of gold dragons was promised, equalling a total of ten thousand gold coins in their currency.

When the young Altmer girl stood before Illyrio, he gently cupped her cheek in his hand and looked her up and down slowly. "What is your name dear girl?" He asked, letting his hand fall to his side.

"Je-Jenna my lord." She stammered out, acting the picture of innocence.

"Do not be afraid Jenna. You are in good company. Come along, we have a short trip to make." Illyrio stated before turning to Eldria. "Until next time Lady Joroth. May you stay healthy and content here in Pentos. Who knows, I might have a gift of my own the next time we meet." With that, the merchant climbed back into his waiting carriage with Jenna sitting across from him.

Only after they were gone did Eldria's mask fall away, revealing an evil little smile. "That worked out better than I thought it would."

"Indeed, but I wouldn't get ahead of yourself." Aldevi said, his hooded face unreadable. "Illyrio didn't get where he is by being taken in by mere appearances. He likely suspects what she is."

"He can suspect all he likes, if Jenna does her job well, he won't ever learn otherwise." Still, Eldria knew Aldevi was right. Illyrio had proven adept at avoiding her subtle attempts to garner any information from him. She suspected he guessed at the nature of her 'gift'.

"And if he does?" Aldevi asked, but he suspected he knew the answer.

Eldria turned to regard her bodyguard, her green eyes narrowing to slits. "We purge his estate and find what he's hiding for ourselves." They'd capture and interrogate everyone they could in the process, but anyone who'd dare attack them would die by their blades. That was the Thalmor way.

Meanwhile, on the road back to Illyrio's estate, the merchant was being unusually quiet as he examined his recent purchase. She truly was a jewel among so many exotic people that made Essos their home. He would be the envy of his peers for having such a beauty in his house, but he hadn't bought her for her looks alone. He had seen something in her blue eyes while he had haggled with her Mistress. Illyrio knew the look, having dealt with countless people in his travels as a merchant, and more. But he wanted to test his theory, so he began slow. "So my dear girl, what skills do you possess? I hadn't thought to ask before, so entranced by your beauty, but now that we're alone and away from prying eyes, I wish to know more about you."

"What do you want to know, Lord Mopatis?" Jenna asked, but again Illyrio saw something flash in her blue eyes, but it was gone before he could get a proper reading on it. But he suspected he knew what he was dealing with.

"Whatever you're willing to share, or what your Mistress no doubt told you to share to win my trust." And there it was, fear at being discovered as Jenna took a sharp breath inward.

But to his surprise, she recovered far quicker and seemed to transform right before his eyes as she scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her side of the silk covered carriage. "That didn't take long."

Illyrio smiled and nodded his head as he folded his hands over his wide stomach. "When you deal with people from around the world, who make it their business to try and lie and cheat their way through life, you learn quickly to see through their masks. But that leaves me with a question. Why should I keep you alive if you were sent to spy on me?"

"Because I have no love for those Thalmor elitist fools." Was Jenna's blunt response.

That was not the response Illyrio had expected. "Truly? I thought the Thalmor were all the same?"

"I'm Altmer." Jenna corrected him sharply. "The Thalmor are not our race, only a political group that has risen to power in the Summerset Isles, our homeland. They have remained in power for years, forming what we call the Third Aldmeri Dominion."

"Truly?" Illyrio asked, genuinely curious about this unexpected wealth of information. He hadn't lied when he had told Eldria that everything had a price. Jenna was making a very good case for herself, if what she said was the truth.

"Let me put this as plainly as I can. They believe humans and the other races are beneath them. They believe they are the only ones fit to rule the world I hail from. Not all of us Altmer share that opinion."

Illyrio's interest was piqued. He stroked his black-and-gray beard. "And what of you, my dear?"

"I hate Eldria, what she represents. She's willing to go to any length as so many Thalmor are. Elenwen, the last leader of the group that arrived on Westerosi shores just this past year, had my family murdered when I was still young. They were Talos worshipers, unwilling to let go of their gods despite a royal decree outlawing it across the Isles before that same decree was forced upon the Empire that ruled Tamriel. Elenwen hoped I imagine, that I wouldn't remember their passing. I did, and I've been hiding in plain sight since."

Illyrio followed along, "And now Eldria is in charge of what Elenwen built."

Jenna nodded, "And she needs to die before she brings this world to its knees."

"But you've confessed this to me so easily, so I cannot believe you quite so quickly."

"If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it a dozen different ways by now." Jenna retorted as a ball of fire appeared in her open hand followed by an orb of lightning, followed by an orb of snowflakes and cold winds. Illyrio's gaze never left the elven woman's hand even when she clenched her fist tightly, dispelling the magic just as easily. "And that is only a few examples of Destruction magic. I have studied many of the schools, favoring Illusion and Destruction. I could leave you insane, quivering in a puddle of your own piss, or send you into a rage with but a wave of my hand."

"If I had known this in advance, I would have paid double for you." Illyrio chuckled, but sobered just as quickly. "But you didn't say why I should believe you."

"Because if I were to fail, Eldria would go to plan B, which entails capturing your estate and wiping out all resistance in her path. She will torture the survivors for information, and then kill them once they have served their purpose. And no army in this land could hope to stop her because all Thalmor are trained extensively in battle magics and sword play. Basically, you'd be powerless against her, and Eldria is very creative even among the Thalmor, in her interrogation techniques."

"Then I suppose I will pretend you are not working for Lady Joroth. I do not wish to be tortured, and I am sure you would not want your own secret discovered."

"And I can become your eyes and ears to her. You don't trust her anymore than I do."

"I trust no one, that is how I am still alive my dear." When the wagon came to a stop, Illyrio took his eyes off of Jenna for only an instant, but when he looked back, he had to wonder for just a brief moment if the strong, very cunning woman before him had ever existed when she returned to her demure, innocent persona. But a flash in her blue eyes, one that promised a slow, drawn out death for Eldria, told him otherwise. "Be it as it may Jenna, you might wish to destroy the Thalmor, but I don't trust you anymore than I trust your Mistress. But if you prove true to your word, I will be obliged to reward you well."

"Of course Lord Mopatis." Jenna replied softly, but the subtlest twitch of her lips told him all he needed to know.

Following Illyrio towards the heavily guarded front door before them, Jenna wondered if they hadn't turned around and gone back to Joroth's estate. It looked almost exactly the same, but this place was bigger, and a quick glance at the guards told her that these were not Altmer or Thalmor men. These were humans, Unsullied if she remembered the stories correctly. Slave soldiers perhaps, but very dangerous with their chosen spears and shields. But she hadn't been boasting about the Thalmors' capabilities, they would blast through them like a scythe through wheat.

As they passed through the front doors, Illyrio stopped and nodded for Jenna to go ahead before folding his hands behind his back. "I have need of a new handmaiden to attend to two young guests I have taken into my home. The younger will be easy to tend to because she is demure and gentle. It's the older, her brother, that might drive you to drink. He certainly managed it with the last attendant I sent them." It was an exaggeration on his part, but the older of the last of the Targaryens was not the easiest child to deal with. Even so, Illyrio didn't need him to be, he simply needed a figurehead. Having the girl was simply insurance for his future plans, put together with a friend across the sea.

Jenna rolled her eyes when she turned to address Illyrio. "I will be alright. I have dealt with far worse."

"I have no doubt of that my dear," Illyrio chuckled, "But I think you should wait until you meet them to form an opinion." The man led Jenna up a luxurious staircase to a second-floor parlor room, but even at this height, the distant sounds of waves crashing against the shores was just audible to her elven ears. As expected, more guards were stationed at every door, ensuring that no unwanted guests could hope to slip about the place undetected, but Jenna hardly noticed as Illyrio nodded towards the other end of the room where a boy of fifteen, sixteen tops was currently examining a recently acquired sword while his sister had her nose in a book, trying to appear as small as possible. "May I present Viserys, of House Targaryen, First of his name, and his sister, Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen."

This certainly explains a lot, was all Jenna could think as both brother and sister looked at the Altmer. With a hesitant nod of her head, Jenna introduced herself, presenting the innocent, demure nature she had perfected over her long life, but inwardly, her mind was a whirl as all of her, and Eldria's questions, were answered in one fell swoop. Things just became very complicated.

Westeros

King's Landing

The Docks of Blackwater Bay

Two days later….

Lucia hadn't known what to think when Tyrion told her what he had done for her. She had truly appreciated his sending Tommen and Myrcella to her when he had, but later that evening, he had told her the letter he had gotten back from Dorne. It was a dangerous move by him, because even she knew what the Martells thought of the Lannisters, and yet they were sending a few of their family to the capital. Even so, her brown eyes were practically gleaming with excitement as they fell upon the sails of the Dornish vessel, the red sun being pierced by a spear emblazoned on an orange field for all to see. "How did you convince them to come to the capital?" Lucia asked Tyrion, who merely smirked and chuckled as she turned to address him.

"I have a way with words Lucia. I can be very persuasive when I want to be." He grinned, his mismatched eyes shining in amusement as he nodded to the fast approaching ship. "But since we're honest and good friends Lucia, let's just say that I have something Prince Oberyn might want, now that my father's on his way back to King's Landing. After talking to your mother, which to my understanding, he didn't enjoy quite as much as he thought he would."

"He didn't seem happy when he was here the first time."

"He rarely is." Tyrion admitted and shrugged in response. "But that's just how he is, always talking about continuing the family legacy. I'm the freak, the constant disappointment, always have been my entire life in his eyes. But I've grown used to being the family disappointment."

Lucia looked away from the ship to regard her stature challenged friend. "You're not that bad Tyrion."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He chuckled, but he nodded his appreciation to the girl next to him. They watched as the Dornish ship drew closer and closer to the docks. The sailors were busy as the ship slowed to a crawl and they quickly tied the boat to the docks to prevent it from sailing off without a crew.

Lucia watched as a handsome young man got off the boat, linking arms with a young beautiful woman. Following close behind them were three girls, a few years older than Lucia. The youngest one couldn't have been a year older than herself, yet she carried a long spear in her hand like she'd been born with it. The second oldest had a whip that was longer than she was, looped around her shoulder, while the third, and the oldest, had twin daggers tucked in a leather snake adorned belt around her waist. Lucia could only gawk, having never seen a Dornish family before, but she immediately thought of Giselle's friend, Nazir, and the Redguards she had met during her time in Skyrim. Whatever the case, Tyrion merely smirked at her amazed look as they walked up the stone walkway that led off the docks, surrounded by loyal guards of House Martell. "Prince Oberyn and Ellaria Sand of House Martell?" Tyrion asked once they were close enough.

"Indeed, and you must be Tyrion Lannister, the Prince's uncle Imp." Oberyn turned his gaze onto Lucia and gave a polite smile, "And you must be the Dragonborn's daughter, Lucia Morgonnis. It is a honor to meet you in person."

"Thank you Prince Oberyn." Lucia managed to say, suddenly very shy by being approached by such a handsome man and his family.

"She's cute, but so shy. You certainly charm everyone around you, don't you?" Ellaria teased, earning an amused snort from Oberyn while his children tried to hide their own amusement. This was an old show for them.

"It is a burden, being this charming." Oberyn smirked and shrugged. "Your mother is a good woman," he said, turning back to Lucia, "and quite a force to be reckoned with. We came to a draw when we sparred against each other, a claim few others can make. She'd have done well in the Fighting Pits."

"He wished for more, but he was disappointed," the oldest of the Sand Snakes stated, earning her a playful glare from her father for her trouble.

"My apologies, I forget my manners it seems. My children, Tyene Sand, the oldest of the three here." Tyene nodded her cloth covered head, her gaze soft and playful while her smile was blade thin. Both Tyrion and Lucia got the impression there was more behind that face than appearances suggested. "Obara Sand," The second of the Sand Snakes didn't smile, and her gaze was as hard as the leather armor she wore, "and Nymeria Sand." Her face was unreadable, even now, but Lucia got the impression she was being examined closely, gauging her for possible weaknesses.

"You're the Dragonborn's daughter then? You don't look like much." Obara held up a hand to silence Lucia before she could protest, "but you don't judge a book by its cover. Any Dornish warrior knows this. I hope you won't disappoint me."

"Ignore her, she wouldn't know a courtesy if it came up and bit her." Tyene chuckled, and grinned as she let her hands fall to the daggers in her belt. "Personally, I'm looking forward to our time together."

"Looking forward to bashing her head in, you mean?" Nymeria asked, a subtle grin pulling at her lips as she balanced her spear across her shoulders. She circled Lucia, and the feeling she was being examined for possible weaknesses intensified considerably, but it wasn't an unfriendly gaze. "Nice dagger. Dragonbone?" She asked after she had finished her circle, her eyes having fallen on the dagger in Lucia's belt.

"Tamrielic dragons are still very much alive and well." Lucia replied before drawing it with a skilled flourish, much to the Martells' silent approval. Holding it out hilt first, Nymeria took it in hand and nodded her head as she ran a thumb along the intricate metalwork.

"A beautiful, if cold blade." Nymeria replied before handing it back. "It matches what we were told of your homeland, Lucia of Skyrim. Shall we father?"

"We shall. I assume quarters have been arranged?"

"You assume right." Tyrion replied before waddling back to the keep. "If you would follow me."

Meanwhile, Cersei was staring down at the docks from the Red Keep, her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked upon the Dornish ship that had shown up at the docks. Martells in Dorne, invited by her brother, she would remember this. As expected, Robert didn't see the problem, didn't see the danger associated with having Martells in the capital, but she did, and by the gods she wouldn't take this lying down.

"So," Tyrion spoke as he waddled down the hallway, "what brings the Martells to King's Landing?"

"Your letter spoke of a hired blade, targeting Lucia, the daughter of our visiting dignitary from Skyrim. I came here to ensure a second didn't get a chance at my ally's daughter. I am simply ensuring peaceful relations between our two countries."

"Your ally?" Tyrion said an eyebrow, "I wasn't aware Dorne had such respect for the foreigners." Varys had already informed him of this fact, but he was feigning ignorance.

"Respect, and a bit of fear for someone who makes it her duty to hunt down dragons. She had one such beast mounted in her great hall, strung up from the ceiling." Oberyn replied as they made their way through the keep with Tyrion just ahead of them. "Dorne is no fool when it comes to dragons. It's better to ally than fight such beasts, even if these foreigners have someone in their ranks that hunts them down when needed."

"And if it comes down to it," Tyrion added, "if they were to ever turn on Dorne, you know how to resist said dragons. But that isn't the whole truth of why you're here."

"It never is when in King's Landing." Oberyn replied honestly, a sharp edge to his smile all too easy to see on his face. "But perhaps I'll tell you that tale another time. It's been a long journey."

"Of course. Enjoy your stay in the capital." Tyrion replied after seeing them to their quarters, Lucia the only one to stay at his side. When the door shut, he smirked up at his taller companion. "I think he likes me."

"You're still alive." Lucia teased, having gotten over her shyness at last.

Tyrion smirked and started away. "Exactly. So, how many gold dragons do you want to wager he's here to make a public spectacle of Gregor Clegane?"

"Why would I make that wager when I was thinking the same thing?" Lucia asked, having figured that Oberyn hadn't come to King's Landing just to ensure she continued breathing.

"I'm sure Ser Gregor would like to meet Prince Oberyn as well," Tyrion replied sardonically. He lost his amused little smirk though as he turned to regard Lucia. "Are you sure you don't want me to find someone else to train you? I suddenly have a bad feeling about this idea of mine, born out of a desire to rankle my sister."

"I'll be fine." Lucia replied, having sensed no true ill intent from any of them. "He might be interested in getting revenge for his sister, but I don't think I'm in danger around Prince Oberyn or his family. I know how persuasive my mother can be." It was Tyrion's turn to look on as Lucia's shadow grew considerably as she walked away, the girl appearing as big as a giant for just a moment before the illusion was shattered.

"That girl might just survive this city after all." The Imp mused to himself.

Later that day...

Lucia watched as Prince Oberyn's daughters sparred with each other in the open courtyard. Such activities would normally be held near the tourney grounds, but the Martells' daughters had no care for such rules. And neither did they care about the stares they received. It was a rare sight to see a woman fighting. But again, the Sand Snakes did not care for what others thought.

Not that she cared what they thought of her personally either. She'd been beating practice dummies to death with her own sword and dagger since she'd gotten used to being in the capital. Still, what she did and what she was watching as the Sand Snakes danced around each other was two vastly different things. "For being from a land that values warriors and their prowess, you seem easily impressed." Oberyn stated, drawing Lucia from her thoughts as he nodded to his three children.

Lucia said the only thing she could think of. "I wasn't born with a sword in my hand."

Oberyn laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Truly? That does explain a fair bit. But I suppose that's part of the reason why we're here. You're not of Skyrim are you?"

There was no reason in hiding the truth. "Not by birth, no. Cyrodiil, but I've only known Skyrim. My parents were Imperial."

"And you've been taken in by an ash gray woman of exceeding beauty and grace, who's also quite deadly with those blades of hers. Some would say you're quite lucky."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. The Divines stepped in, or I'm a spawn of some Daedra." Lucia replied, earning her a curious glance from the Prince at her side. "It's the only thing that makes sense on how far I've come since Giselle took me in."

"You believe in your gods then?"

"Without question. But I also believe in what I can do myself. I don't rely on faith alone to see me through."

"A good way to live." Oberyn replied and nodded his head in approval at the rather astute observation by the young girl. "Do you know our words, Lucia of Skyrim?"

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken." She replied immediately, earning her a smirk from the Prince.

"Truly, you've studied. Do you know why?" Oberyn asked, curious to see how much she truly knew.

"Because Dorne's never lost a war. They've never relented in the face of adversity. Not even the Targaryens could stop Dorne, and they were forced into a stalemate because they never had a target for their dragons to burn. Instead, the Targaryens did the only thing they could do, and married into Dorne's line."

Oberyn chuckled. "You're well read indeed."

"I like to read." Lucia smirked, satisfied with herself at having impressed the Prince from Dorne. "And while I have Imperial blood, I was raised in Skyrim. I was never satisfied with the idea of looking pretty in a dress, not when something could eat me in my sleep."

"My daughters hate the idea of dresses," Oberyn said with a sly grin, "and while you wear one, I suspect it's more to blend in with those here in the capital than because you like it."

"Sometimes it's best to appear as one thing while concealing the truth, until the time is right." Lucia replied, glad she had decided to not wear a dress today, having chosen to wear her simple leathers and a white tunic. "Like you," she added, glancing at Oberyn with a side glance.

"Very clever." Oberyn said, but didn't say anything else about that as he once again turned to his three children just as they broke away one last time. "Nymeria."

"Yes father?" She replied, her whip back over her shoulders.

"I think our friend has stood around long enough. Do you think you're up to the task of making her dance?"

"Is that a trick question?" Nymeria asked, a hard smirk appearing on her face as she waited for Lucia to stand across from her in the courtyard. "Ready?" She asked as Lucia drew her dagger, before raising an eyebrow when Lucia ran a finger along its edge, a red barrier forming over the blade's edge.

"It's to ensure I don't accidentally kill you if I get close enough to use it. It dulls the blade, protecting me as much as you." Lucia explained before holding the dagger before her while her other hand fell behind her back. Her empty hand wasn't going to be idle, but Nymeria didn't need to know that. Having seen Nymeria's fighting style, having observed the Sand Snakes during their sparring match, Lucia knew what her whip was capable of. Dragging an enemy close, entangling their limbs, or using it as a noose were the obvious uses for such a weapon. It gave Nymeria a dangerous reach, but it was easy to tell when she was about to strike. She telegraphed a bit too much, reaching forward and then back in order to get the maximum reach. She was too straightforward, and that would be her undoing.

Lucia recalled one of Farkas's more pointed lessons. "I know my limitations. I'm almost the size of a giant, I move like a giant, I fight like a giant. But I'm fast, I never stay still, and I hit like a mammoth. Just because I look dumb, doesn't mean I am." Remembering that, she stayed out of reach of Nymeria's whip, circling her so she was forced to keep moving. She didn't want to give her a chance to get that whip going, to entangle her legs and trip her up. The only way she could do that was to not keep to one spot. Sidestepping just as the whip cracked by her cheek, Lucia's free hand darted out and grabbed the length before Nymeria could jerk it back completely, and pulled, hard.

Nymeria didn't let go of the whip's hilt, much to Lucia's surprise, and instead ran forward, her elbow raised to hit her in the face. She had to duck and roll to the side at the last moment, taken back by the sudden charge. "You can't possibly learn everything by observing a mere sparring match." Was Nymeria's explanation as she expertly gathered the length of her whip about herself, spinning this way and that as she danced around Lucia's dagger strikes. Grabbing her free hand as it flew towards her stomach, it was Nymeria's turn to smirk as she tripped Lucia up with her whip, her hand latched firmly around her wrist and forcing it out wide with her dagger arm under her back before finally planting a knee on her throat. "Yield."

When one of Jon Arryn's knights, who was also been present for the occasion, started to rush to Lucia's defense, Oberyn merely glanced at the man, freezing him in place. The message was plain, she would surrender one way or the other but she wouldn't die here. Nymeria would ensure that much, but whether or not Lucia remained conscious was another matter. Even so, he wasn't about to have this match interrupted, or she wouldn't learn anything.

As for Lucia herself, she couldn't breathe as Nymeria put all of her weight on her throat, constricting her airway. Even if her hands had been free, she wouldn't have been able to break free, Nymeria was too strong for that. To make it worse, pain was lancing up her arm from it being pinned beneath her, her barrier covered dagger digging painfully into her back at the same time. It was making concentrating on an escape that much harder as her vision darkened. She did the only thing she could do. "Y-yield." She managed to gasp out, and took in a deep, shuddering breath when Nymeria hopped to her feet and started away without a backwards glance.

"I wondered if your pride would prevent you from seeing reason. I'm glad to see I was wrong." Nymeria stated, her back still turned as Lucia tried to regain her senses from the brutal beating she'd taken in short order. "Again." Nymeria commanded, before turning on her heel.

End Notes; Well, Jenna was a rather unexpected development, but let's just say she's going to be quite important before this is over. We might be coming to the end of this story, but the tale is far from spun. You're going to either hate me very soon, or love the twists I have planned for the final chapters. Adios folks and may the Nine watch your backs.