Hey, long time no see! :D Do you guys miss me? I missed you guys! Yeah, sorry for the delay college started for me and it is keeping me really busy, mixing that with procrastination and it makes for no new chapter for two weeks. I'll be having my AS exams in May which will probably mess up my schedule, but I'll try my best to keep updating as usual. I originally had planned Adair not to be in this chapter at all, but I like the guy. He's Li's big brother and her voice of reason, I hope you guys like him, 'cause he's gonna stick around the story, 'cause I love him too much to make him just drop off the end of the earth. I'll be quiet now, enjoy! :)

Force.Balance.Push

Reality

It had been four days since the Dragonborn had left the Palace of the Kings, and still the girl's furious words rang in Ulfric's ears. It had been a long time since someone had so openly expressed their disgust for him; it had been even longer since someone had openly challenged him, and the Nord couldn't even remember when someone had been in an argument with him and been able to hold their own. Over the past days Ulfric had been left to brood, his feelings towards the Breton had gradually become sourer and sourer. He had come to the conclusion that he disliked her. (He would have wholly hated her if she hadn't been the Dragonborn, and had saved not only his life, but also his people's.) She was pugnacious, rash, headstrong, foolhardy and insolent. Though that being said...the girl must have some redeeming qualities, after all there had been a period (albeit short) when he had considered her not completely intolerable. And when she had tended to the injured, and lived in his palace, both his men and his people had apparently been enamoured with her. But he wasn't to be so easily won over, after all she was a mage, she might have simply made them like her with some bewitching spell. Ulfric ran his tongue over his teeth; he had come to the conclusion that whatever they had been before was something they would ever go back to. It seemed that from that moment, when she had shouted back at him with such venom, they were set to repel and hate each other.

The Jarl was pulled from his thoughts as Jorleif addressed him directly; the Jarl was in the war room leant over the map of Skyrim, pretending to consider military tactics. Galmar was seated to his left and Jorleif, stood at his right.

''Aren't you worried Ulfric?''

''About what?'' Ulfric murmured, his eyes racing over the little red flags that dotted on half of Skyrim. He was a Jarl and the leader of a rebellion, he had many worries.

''About the Dragonborn.''

Ulfric turned to the smaller Nord; he looked to the man and raised an eyebrow. ''Should I be?''

''What if she has left the city...what if she was to...''

''She won't leave, not while people need her.'' That was one redeeming quality he supposed, she had dogged determination to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Though Ulfric knew that wasn't what his adviser was insinuating, he was voicing their worst fear. What if the Breton turned against him, out of her own hatred for him and join the Imperial Legion. It was a possibility, a rather terrifying one, if Tullius managed to get his hands on her and the power she possessed, it would be all over, for all of them. He had a feeling that this would be the moment that Wuunferth would scold him for not being more patient with her; after all it was within in his best interests to stay on her better side. But, he had never had much patience for her kind, not since the Markarth incident anyway.

''So what do you propose we do then?'' Asked Jorleif.

Galmar snored, ''You worry too much, just let the girl have her tantrum, she'll come back soon enough. And then you let me have a few words with her and she won't dare be so rude again.''

''She's the Dragonborn. You can't simply have a word with her, like you do with our officers when they step out of line.'' Ulfric shook his head gently, no, they had to play this game carefully and allowing Galmar to beat the living shit out of her was anything but careful. As Ulfric turned back to the map of Skyrim, he remembered something his mother had said to him when he had been but a young child. You catch more bees with honey, than with vinegar. But Ulfric quietened the memory as he steered the conversation back to military advancements.

...

''Follow me.'' Adair fell in step beside the Dunmer as he walked down the slope that led to the docks. The Dunmer and Argonians watched him closely, they might have accepted his sister, but with him it was a different story. They saw him as an outsider, here to take their saviour away, and they didn't take too kindly to that. The Breton was now walking along the water's edge; the jetty's stretched out in front of him. ''Dragonborn, you have a visitor.'' The Dunmer called out into the small crowd, eyes turned on Adair and he thought for a moment that something would be said, but nothing became of their hostile and suspicious glances. There came a cheerful shout as a woman made her way across the slippery stone surface towards them.

''Adair! Brother, it is good to see you.'' Lianna exclaimed breathlessly as she embraced her brother. ''Thank you Sardi.'' Lianna beamed at the elf, Sardi gave a curt nod before he turned away from them, back to whatever he was previously doing. Adair thought he heard the man grumble something none too polite in his direction as he walked away, but ignored it. ''What are you doing here?''

''I could ask you the same thing.''

Her smile dropped from her face, making her look all the more pitiful. Her hair was a wild mess of tangles and knots, the dark circles under her eyes were much more pronounced then when he had last seen her.

''I can't believe you! You of all people should understand.'' Lianna snapped. Her lack of sleep and general all round fatigue was making her short temper all the shorter.

''Don't be like that, De-Lianna,'' Adair replied calmly, he grasped her shoulders and she wriggled against him angrily. ''Come on,'' He muttered pulling her down one of the jetties ''I want to talk to.'' Adair could feel many hostile eyes on his back. He stopped under the shadow of a cargo boat, he let go of her and she shrank away from him slightly. ''Now listen, don't you think this farce has gone on long enough.''

''What are you talking about Adair; I'm here to help these people.'' The woman snapped back at him, Adair grimaced.

''If you were truly here to help these people, then don't you think you would have swallowed your pride already?''

''What are you talking about?'' Lianna's eyes narrowed.

''I don't doubt your resolve to help these people, sister. I talk about your disagreement with the Jarl.''

''It was a little more than a disagreement don't you think.'' Lianna laughed coldly.

''If you were to apologise-''

''Apologise. I have nothing to be sorry for.''

''Or at least make amends then.'' Lianna snorted.

''If you think I'll talk to him while half of his city lies in disrepair and homeless, you've got another thing coming.''

Adair laughed, Lianna raised an eyebrow. ''You are more stubborn then I remember, sister.'' The look of rage on the Dragonborn's face softened.

''Well, I'm glad at least one of us finds this funny.'' Lianna muttered.

''Honestly Lianna, of all people in Skyrim, you have to put up the back of the next possible High King.''

''He could be the future Emperor and I still wouldn't give a Skeever shit.''

Adair shook his head and chuckled softly. ''Don't you understand, your making it that much harder for yourself.''

''How so?''

''You can continue to help these people Lianna, but you're only one person-''

''The Dragonborn though.''

''Yes, but only one person. If you go back to the Jarl and try and patch things up, then you'll have Ulfric on your side. You'll do far more good with the Jarl on your side than if you were against each other.''

Lianna chewed on her lip, her eyes misted over in thought. ''I'll consider it, brother.''

...

Now is a good a time as any I suppose. Lianna thought as she pulled open the warehouse door into the night air. They had been using the empty warehouse as a sort of bunkhouse, not that Lianna had gotten any sleep while she had lain in her bed, just the requiring nightmares. As she trudged through the newly fallen snow, up the slope that led back out into the city, she realised that it had been just over a week since she had left the palace and now she was returning in the dead of night. She chose to go back after night fall because it was just a lot easier that way. It meant she wouldn't need to awkwardly explain herself to the Dunmer and she wouldn't need to walk back into the palace, and probably be attacked on sight.

The only sound in the city was the crunching of snow under the Dragonborn's boots, her breath hung in the air around her head like a halo. The cold seeped through her robes and clawed and bit at her skin, she would need to invest in some thick furs if the chill persisted. She trudged through the winding alleyways in the darkness for what seemed like hours, as she moved in the darkness she thought of High Rock. She thought of the hot summers years ago spent swimming in the sea, days spent playing with her brother and the bloom of the flowers in the courtyard. Her memories were shattered when there came a sound from behind her, the clinking of metal boots on stone. The Breton turned quickly and the sight that met her made her heart stop. There were four of them, at the other end of the alleyway, their gold armour shone brilliantly in the moon light. For a moment Lianna thought maybe this was another nightmare, but her fingers throbbing with frostbite told her otherwise.

Lianna ran. She was no longer the Dragonborn with the Thu'um at her disposal, she was no longer a mage that could burn and freeze targets at will. She was just a terrified girl, running for her life. She could hear them behind her giving chase, their armour clinking, stabbing into the silent night. The dark of city blurred into blackness as she pelted through into the main square of Windhelm, suddenly the ground wasn't under her feet anymore and she fell forward into the air and collided heavily with the slippery ground. She skidded along the cobbled street, the ice burnt against her cheek, she curled tightly into a ball covered her head with her arms. So this was how she was too die, at the hands of the Thalmor. One of them stepped towards her; he drew his sword, a smirk on his face. He raised the golden blade into the air and brought it down with great force. Over the pounding of her heart and her screams the Dragonborn heard a strange words, ones she knew all too well, from somewhere behind her. There was what sounded like a explosion of thunder and the elf was sent flying backwards.

Ulfric!

Ulfric to the rescue! :3

Next chapter, they'll kiss and make up (No, not literally :L) but it will be mushy and wonderful.

TTFN :)

-Marie