The dress could not have fit more perfect. Kiir had been wearing robes for so long she forgot what it was like to not wear ten pounds of clothing. She felt light and airy - something that brought back a small twinge of homesickness. This was certainly something her mother would approve of.

But the hair? Not quite.

As short as it was, Kiir couldn't really do much with it. She went to Driem for help, but she sent her to Tukara.

The two of them seemed tolerant of each other, now. There was no longer the outright hostility, but the air still grew tense if they were too close to each other for too long.

How are they going to travel together? Kiir worried she'd have to pick a side. Of course, she'd known Driem longer but... what if Tukara had been right that Driem was only coming along to use the Dragonborn somehow? Kiir had been so adamant with Vingalmo that Driem come along with them, she didn't want to think that had been a mistake.

Tukara had pulled Kiir's hair back with a small braid and pinned it in place. It wasn't anything close to what Kiir was used to at home, but there wasn't much one could do with short hair.

"You nervous?"

Kiir laughed. "I shouldn't be. I'm going to be surrounded by Altmer. I should be relieved."

"Relieved to be in a room full of racist war mongers, you mean."

"Not all Altmer are racist war hungry maniacs."

Tukara clicked her tongue. "But you're not going into a room with just any Altmer. These are the Thalmor. Many of whom, by the way Vingalmo talks, are high ranking officers from around Skyrim."

"I know what the Thalmor are," Kiir replied. "And I know this party isn't just for the average soldier. That's exactly why I'm going in the first place."

"I'm just saying." Tukara smoothed down Kiir's hair with her hands. "Don't underestimate these guys. The last fucking thing we need is the Dragonborn dying, or worse."

Kiir raised a brow. "Or worse?"

"Ask Vingalmo."

Or worse? Kiir shook her head. She reached up to touch her hair, following the braid with her fingers. "Thank you, by the way."

"It's nothing special. I just know how to keep hair out of my face."

"And that's appreciated," Kiir replied. She stood, smoothing out her dress against her legs and sighed. "I guess that's everything."

Tukara's face then startled and she held up a single finger before turning from the room. When she returned, she had Kiir's Khajiit shawl in her arms. "Can't forget this."

"I'm glad you remembered!" Kiir took the shawl and draped it over her shoulders. It smelled a little like damp forest and old soap. "I kept forgetting to ask you for it."

"I was pretty pissed after the fight with Orthjolf, so I'm not surprised."

Kiir hummed. "Vingalmo told me about it."

Tukara coughed. "Vingalmo what?"

"It's fine," Kiir replied. She gave Tukara a small wave as she slipped outside the room and skittered down the stairs to the dining room.

Fish and Driem were the only ones sat at the table, seemingly engrossed in whatever they each were doing.

Driem looked up as Kiir entered, smiling. "You look lovely."

"Thank you." Kiir leaned onto the back of one of the chairs. "Where's Vingalmo?"

"Who knows. After he did your illusions this morning he disappeared."

"Aren't we leaving in a little while?"

Driem shrugged. "I thought so."

"Vingalmo and I are taking a carriage to the Embassy, how are you and Tukara getting there?"

From the stairs, Tukara answered first. "I've got Arvak."

"Is that such a good idea?" Fish twisted in his chair to look at her.

Tukara leapt down the last few steps and drew up to the table. "Why not?"

Fish chuckled. "You're leaving in the middle of the day. You think a flaming horse won't catch a few glances?"

"You have a flaming horse?!"

"Oh," Fish glanced towards Driem and then back at Tukara. "I just figured she knew."

Tukara nodded to Driem. "Yes, I have a flaming horse. And yeah, Fish, I guess Arvak might be a little... conspicuous. I guess I'm walking then?"

There was a moment of silence before Driem reluctantly spoke up. "Walking will take forever. You can take Cheshire, as long as you keep her safe. I can take my wolf out for a run and just stay off the roads."

"That's your horse, I'm assuming?"

Driem nodded.

Tukara seemed to a take a moment to consider it. "That could work. I don't know how happy Arvak will be that I'm riding another horse."

Driem squinted at her. "Will he even know? He's… a horse."

"That doesn't make it any less of a betrayal," Tukara pouted. She sighed, waving her hand dismissively. "Where is your horse stabled?"

Suddenly, the front door to Fish's home swung open. Vingalmo strode in, a small canvas bag held in his hands.

"Where have you been?" Fish asked.

Vingalmo held the bag up. "Elenwen would never admit it, but she does expect some kind of compensation for hosting a party."

Driem raised a brow. "Compensation?"

"It's considered the polite thing to do," Vingalmo explained. "She was kind enough to offer her home, or her Embassy, up to a gathering so the least the guests could do is offer something of their own. It's not required, per say, but it's expected."

Kiir pushed off from the chair. "What'd you get her?"

"A small collection of flower vases. I understand the Ambassador has a fondness for flowers."

That didn't sound much like the Elenwen Kiir remembered, but as much as Kiir had changed over the past few months it wouldn't be surprising if Elenwen had picked a few new hobbies, too. "Should we get going?"

Vingalmo nodded. "I'll go get a nicer bag for these and then we can be off."

Kiir nodded and had been about to return upstairs for her things when Fish caught her arm.

"Good luck, Kiir," Fish smiled. "My home is always open to you should you ever come through Solitude again."

It was just past midday when Kiir left with Vingalmo to head for the carriage he'd arranged for them. Just like everything else in Solitude, the carriage was far nicer than the ones in Whiterun or Winterhold. The seats were plush and the carriage itself had a canopy draped over the top.

"Fancy," Kiir commented.

Vingalmo laughed, sliding into the seat beside Kiir. "I wouldn't hear the end of it if I showed up in a rickety old wagon."

Kiir nodded. She reached for the small drapes that covered the windows and tied them back.

"Are you nervous?" Vingalmo asked.

"That's the second time I've been asked that today."

"That doesn't answer the question."

Kiir shrugged. She kept her gaze trained outside the window. "Are you sure Elenwen won't recognize me?"

"I think that entirely depends on how well she knows you. You never quite explained how you knew her, or her, you."

"It's complicated."

"Ah."

Kiir pulled back from the window and looked back over her shoulder.

Vingalmo was laid back in his seat, eyes trained on hers. His hands were laid in his lap, almost expectantly.

"She's an old family friend."

"So you were close."

Kiir shook her head. "Not really. But I knew of her. She'd been around my home growing up."

"Then what's the risk in her seeing you?"

Kiir looked back out the window. She fidgeted with her hands. "We're not in good standing."

"Something happened?"

"That's one way to put it."

Vingalmo didn't reply and the conversation lulled into silence. Kiir kept her gaze on the passing scenery. What would she say when she saw Elenwen? If she was too tongue tied she might look suspicious. Kiir's worry only grew as the Embassy came into sight. It was much... smaller than Kiir expected it to be.

Kiir stretched her legs and ducked to exit the carriage. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"You ready?" Vingalmo asked.

Kiir hummed. She fell into step behind Vingalmo as they both made their way up the doors to the Embassy. It felt like every single guard and Justicar's eyes were on her. Kiir had to remind herself that of course they were, that was their job.

Vingalmo handed the door guard the tickets and he seemed to inspect them for longer than Kiir found comfortable.

Finally, the guard grunted. "Enjoy the party."

Kiir gave the mer a curt nod and hurried herself through the door.

The minute Kiir stepped into the room she was barraged with familiar smells and sights. The flowers, the banners, the beads... it was like she was home again. The whole place smelled like smoked fish and proscato flowers. Kiir took in a deep breath. "I can't remember the last time I had slow smoked tearos."

"Elenwen rarely spares any expense at these events."

"It would seem that way." Kiir peered around Vingalmo's shoulder to see the rest of the guests in the room. She, thankfully, didn't recognize any. Save for Elenwen who was stood at the end of the room.

Vingalmo looped his arm around Kiir's. "Let's get a spot away from the crowds. I trust your magic will hold, but I'd rather not rely too much on it."

"But we need to be in the crowds," Kiir protested. "How else are we going to hear anything?"

"I've got a few people I can talk to. You, on the other hand..."

"Are going to sit back like a child?" Kiir pulled her arm free from Vingalmo's. "Was there even a reason for my coming along, then? I might be a little unnerved but I remember how to conduct myself around Thalmor."

Vingalmo nodded and smiled. "Then you should know how touchy they get when there are unknown faces present during conversation."

"They trust you," Kiir replied. "Just introduce me as your wife."

Vingalmo startled, drawing back. He shook his head. "And what would I say when you aren't around in a few months?"

"Who would be around to ask you 'in a few months'?"

"Any one of these people."

"You said you don't attend these things anyway."

"You are underestimating how nosy these people are."

"I'm well aware how nosy." Kiir shook her head. If they continued like this they'd draw too much attention. "Alright, I'll stay here. I don't-"

"Vingalmo!"

Kiir paled.

Elenwen wore a bright smile on her face as she sauntered across the room. Her hair was done up in some impossibly complex style that looked closer to a jigsaw puzzle than a hairstyle. She reached a hand out for Vingalmo to shake. "You finally decided to attend one of my events."

Vingalmo looked to be caught just as off guard as Kiir. "I've just been terribly busy. My apologies. I'm sure they were spectacular."

"Have you ever known me to do any less?" Elenwen's eyes dropped to the bag in Vingalmo's hand. "Those can go on the table by the bar."

"Oh, yes," Vingalmo replied. "I'll be right back-"

Elenwen caught his shoulder. "You'd leave without introducing me to your...?"

Kiir was sweating. She straightened her back and smiled. At least the illusion spell was working. "Wife."

Vingalmo choked. He cast a look in Kiir's direction but quickly recovered. "Fiancé, actually. Haven't quite," he reached his arm to loop Kiir's once more, "tied the knot yet."

"Well, congratulations. I never saw you as the marrying type, Vingalmo."

"Neither did I."

"The years change us all, it seems." Elenwen turned to Kiir. "Your name?"

"Uh." Kiir suddenly found herself unsure if she should even risk using her fake name. They'd know Elandaae, but knowing that Vingalmo knew Kiir could pose it's own issues. "Tukara."

Vingalmo hid his choke better the second time.

Elenwen's face scrunched into a look of confusion. "Do you hail from the Isles?"

"Alinor, actually." Kiir could feel Elenwen's eyes burning into her skull. No wonder she was an ambassador. "My parents were fascinated by foreign cultures so much they decided to name me something... unique."

"It is certainly that," Elenwen replied. She looked back to Vingalmo. "Well, please enjoy the party. I should speak to you again once everyone has arrived. I'll find you."

Vingalmo nodded and, as soon as Elenwen was out of sight, pulled Kiir back further in the room. "What was it you had said about remembering how to act around Thalmor?"

"What would you have said?" Kiir was careful to keep her voice down. "Friend? Acquaintance? Colleague? You don't bring them as a guest to a party, they would have assumed I was an escort."

"Which was precisely why I had wanted you to stay back." Vingalmo pressed his fingers against his temple and sighed. "No use arguing over it now." He paused. "And Tukara? Really?"

"She would have recognize my real name and I didn't want them to have my fake name either!"

"You couldn't just make one up?"

Kiir groaned. "So what's our next step?"

Vingalmo scanned the room silently. "Elenwen mentioned wanting to speak to me later. Hopefully it's about something relevant to us."

"And if it's not?"

"We start asking around." Vingalmo lifted the bag still in his hand up into his arms. "I'm going to drop this off at the table. Stay here."

Kiir nodded and moved herself back so she was flush with the wall. She could hear the faint folk music coming from up above her and she wondered if the Embassy had a dance floor. Kiir was sure she remembered the steps to at least a few of the dances.

A swift gust of cold air ran through the room as the front door was opened.

More guests, Kiir thought. She wiggled her way against the wall to try and see who was walking in.

Elenwen, who'd moved back into the foyer, threw a hand up in greeting. "Ah! Our guest of honor!"

The guest chuckled and removed his hood.

Kiir felt her knees go weak. She knew that face, she knew that laugh. The sounds in the room dulled. She'd known than man her entire life. It was a face she was sure she'd never get the chance to see again.

Vingalmo drew close again, turning his head from Kiir to the door. "Kiir? Kiir, what is it?"

Elenwen's voice still carried over the crowd. "High Councilor. How was the trip over?"

Kiir couldn't find her words.

"Kiir?" Vingalmo asked again.

"It was fine," the High Councilor replied. He took off his cloak and handed it aside. "Far colder than I assumed it to be."

Kiir felt tears draw at the edges of her eyes. Why here? Why now? She drew in a single breath. "That's my father."

And fin!

That brings Season 3 to a close!

Thank you to everyone who kudosed, commented, liked, favorited, subscribed, bookmarked... you all rock and we hope you are continuing to enjoy the story!

We'll be taking our typical inter-season break and we will return again in 3 weeks!

Have a wonderful rest of March and see you all in April!