OMG WAT. I AM ON TIME WAT.

As soon as Qassanda returned to Windhelm she found herself in the Palace of the Kings, on Ulfric's lap while he kissed her hungrily. The Dragonborn pulled away from him to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?"

Ulfric smirked at her, looking through half-lidded eyes of the most incredible blue.

"I want you in Falkreath, helping Galmar take the hold."

Qassanda giggled.

"Understood," she murmured, pushing her hair back and tying it behind her head with a strip of leather before kissing him once more and getting up. "When Yolah returns from his hunt, could you tell him where I'm going?"

He nodded once and Qassanda teasingly blew him a kiss before fleeing the palace to climb onto Frostbite's back and ride her way to Falkreath hold.

Qassanda left Frostbite untethered by the horses tied to a pole and Yolah landed in the middle of the camp, causing several soldiers to approach him with praise and awe. The animal-skin tent of a general was to the left of the horses and Qassanda smiled at the large banner depicting a bear standing outside the tent, not minding the powdery snow settling in her hair or crunching beneath her feet.

Galmar studied a map spread onto a large wooden table and illuminated by a single candle, he was muttering to himself and Qassanda smirked at this.

"Stone-Fist," she greeted him, he looked up and grinned.

"Sneak-sword, are you finally ready to keep fighting?"

Qassanda snorted.

"No, I'm just here to admire your beautiful face." She winked. "Don't tell Ulfric."

Galmar chuckled and Qassanda became serious.

"I'm reporting in."

Galmar nodded.

"You're going to fort Neugrad," he said, tapping a spot on the map to emphasise his point.

"They have some of our boys locked up there. But with a little luck, we can turn that to our advantage."

Qassanda smirked, looking over the map.

"Not luck, skill," she muttered, and Galmar smirked back at her before continuing.

"I've sent some men to scout ahead. Meet them, slip in, free our men, and take over the fort."

Qassanda grinned.

"I do love to sneak…"

Galmar's expression was serious.

"This won't be easy, Sneak-sword. That's why I'm sending you. You think you can get this done?"

Qassanda's smile was dazzling.

"Now, now, Galmar. It almost sounded like you doubt me," she said with a wink, stepping out of the tent to relay the information to Yolah, who nodded his silver head.

Qassanda rode through Falkreath hold, snow settling in her hair, on her eyelashes, on her gauntlets. The sound of Frostbite's hooves assaulting the stone path accompanied the stroke of Yolah's wings. Once she spotted the soldiers, she leaped from Frostbite's back, rolled on the ground and jumped to her feet in one smooth movement.

After a short conversation with Ralof, Qassanda got to the point.

"What's the plan?"

Ralof played with the handle of his warhammer.

"We found a cave under the lake. With luck, it'll lead into the prison. I need you to sneak in there, and free our men, killing anyone inside as you go. Once you've rescued the prisoners, head out to the courtyard. We'll stand guard out here and rush in as soon as we hear fighting." He paused. "Should be fun."

Qassanda grinned.

"Sneaking is always fun." She pressed a kiss to the Nord's cheek, which was met by a confused look and a bright red blush.

"For good luck," she explained, gesturing Yolah forward from his spot conversing with a soldier.

"Stay with Yolah. He's not the best at sneaking."

This comment was met with an angry snort which Qassanda giggled at and set off, hiding amongst the trees as she slowly trekked towards a lake with a single boat floating atop it. Qassanda sighed and stepped into the water quietly, almost whimpering at how cold it was, even against her Nordic skin.

Gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath, Qassanda submerged herself. The cold water was like a million needles pricking her skin at once, painful and freezing. She popped one eye open and quickly found the cave, swimming through and almost leaping out when she came to the other side. Qassanda crawled onto the hard dirt inclining out of the water and tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she shivered uncontrollably. She rounded a few turns and passed through a spider web into a room filled with barrels and shelves.

Avoiding the bear trap at her side, Qassanda snuck through the room and up some stone steps to find another room filled with cells. An Imperial sat at a table drinking something and Qassanda drew Mehrunes' razor from its sheath with a silent movement, even with her numb fingers.

The Sneak-sword crept up behind the Imperial, holding her dagger offensively, and once she was close enough, she slit his throat, covering his mouth to silence his cry of surprise and pain. The Stormcloaks in the cells made surprised sounds and relaxed once Qassanda revealed herself, wearing the armour proclaiming her allegiance.

Qassanda rummaged around on the Imperial's body and found a key, which she took to each cell door. She unlocked them quickly and silently, freeing her comrades and watching as they collected armour from a chest in the corner of the room.

While they dressed, Qassanda scouted ahead, moving up a long flight of stairs to find a door. She waited for the soldiers to accumulate behind her and stepped out into the world, shivering as a burst of cold wind chilled her still-wet skin, and yet she still drew her sword as the other Stormcloaks followed with their own weapons drawn.

The Dragonborn leaped through two stone pillars and onto an Imperial solider, running him through with her sword before flitting to the next one. A roar announced Yolah's arrival with the Stormcloaks and Qassanda took a moment to admire her son proudly as he tore an Imperial in two with his teeth.

Once the Imperials were dead and the Stormcloaks were healing themselves with potions Qassanda supplied, she ducked into another doorway, giving Ralof a quick smile as he slipped in behind her. The pair quickly and skilfully began killing off every Imperial soldier they came across.

Qassanda leaned against a stone wall beside a roaring fireplace, sighing as she began to dry and paying no mind to the Imperial corpses littering the ground and beds in the room. Ralof watched her with his blue eyes, and then moved to search the bodies for gold.

"There's more around here somewhere," he mumbled to her as he snatched a healing potion to tend to a nasty gash oozing blood down his bicep. Qassanda nodded and pushed herself off the wall.

"Then let's get them!" she said with a wolfish grin, gesturing him after her as she drew her sword and set about killing the left over Imperials, until only the fort Commander remained.

Qassanda wasted no time in kicking him off his bed. The thief within her told her to simply slit his throat while he slept, but the honourable soldier within her demanded that her enemy meet his death with his eyes open. She snarled as the commander nicked her cheek with a wild swing.

"Send Ulfric my regards!" he hollered as he lifted his sword again, but Qassanda blocked the swing with ease and drove her own sword deep into his chest.

"I'll be sure to," she hissed, kicking the corpse off of her sword and sheathing it. Ralof stood behind her a ways, panting from the exertion of killing the Imperial at his feet. Qassanda wiped her brow of the sweat which had beaded there as she approached him, smearing blood across it.

Ralof shot a playful grin in her direction.

"Great work Sneak-sword! Get back and report our success, I'll stay here and clean up this mess."

Qassanda nodded.

"Thank you for fighting at my side, Ralof. I proudly call you my brother in arms."

Ralof laid a bloody hand on her shoulder, smearing more blood across her already stained cuirass.

"I'm glad you were here. Couldn't have done this without you."

Qassanda flashed a wolfish grin.

"Come now Ralof, I already know that!" she said with a wink, hiding a slight limp as she slipped past him and wove her way through the fort. With the cold wind on her face, Qassanda smiled. Her body was warmed as her heart thudded in anticipation of seeing her beloved Ulfric again and she leaned against Yolah's scaled neck as he landed at her side with a heavy thud.

"How many are severely injured?"

The dragon swept his golden eyes over the snowy yard as if he needed to check.

"Only three, and one dead."

Qassanda nodded, pausing for a moment to pray for the soldier's safe arrival in Sovengarde and making her way to the Stormcloak camp with Yolah helping to carry the wounded. She sought out Ralof and offered Frostbite to him to give to an injured solider for the return to Windhelm, his blue eyes shone with the rising sun dying the snow many shades of yellow, purple and red.

"What about you, Sneak-sword? Don't think that I haven't seen your limping."

Qassanda gave a short laugh.

"It's nothing as severe as some of our soldiers suffer. I have my own way to return anyway."

Ralof didn't have time to ask what she meant as she mounted Yolah and gripped his scales to secure herself in his flight.

Yeah, I always thought it was kinda douchey of the Dragonborn to fight and just leave without even helping the other Stormcloaks. So at least Qass gave them her horse for the injured. Yay.