A/N Look! Another chapter! *smiles proudly* This chapter is a little bit of a filler, but we get to see Ralof and Ulfric, so that's nice!

The morning after he had heard the Greybeards summon the Dragonborn, Ulfric was woken by a knock at his door. He called to whoever was on the other side, saying that he would be at the door in a minute, then he tried to find some suitable clothes. Ulfric was far from a morning person, and he had been awake long into the night, so the process took longer than it should have. Finally, Ulfric opened the door, now dressed in one of his more regal robes and cloaks.

"Soldier," he said, addressing the man who stood at attention by his door. "What do you need from me?"

"There's someone who asked to see you, sir. A soldier from Commander Oaken-Song's company by the name of Ralof, sir," the man replied crisply.

Ulfric had to make an effort not to shout at the man as he asked, "Where is this soldier? I must speak to him at once."

"General Stonefist is debriefing him in the war room, sir."

Ulfric nodded and thanked the soldier before turning and striding down the corridor, trying not to think too much about what he was about to find and hear. If Vara had been with Ralof, he would have been informed. Not only was she a high-ranking officer in his army, but most of the Palace knew by now that there was something going on between them, a rumor Ulfric didn't do much to discourage. But if she wasn't with Ralof, where was she?

Ulfric pushed those thoughts away with a firm shake of his head. They wouldn't do him any good now. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door to the war room and stepped inside to find Galmar seated at one end of the table and Ralof standing at his side. The two were deep in conversation, but they cut off as Ulfric closed the door behind him.

Before Ulfric could say anything Ralof walked over to him, holding a parchment out to him in one hand. "Commander Oaken-Song made it out of Helgen," Ralof said, and Ulfric couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. "She told me to give this letter to you. It explains why she isn't here with me."

Ulfric took the letter, and the soldier quickly backed away, out of arm's reach. Ulfric shook his head inwardly at the man's unwarranted fear, but his attention was swiftly drawn away from Ralof and towards the unfolded letter that now lay in his hands.

Ulfric,

If you are reading this letter, that means that Ralof has arrived in Windhelm before me. Please try and avoid yelling at the man too much; he did his job and got me out of Helgen safely. The reason I am not with him is that I was asked to inform the Jarl of Whiterun about the defenseless state of Riverwood. That dragon is a dangerous thing, Ulfric, and the people need to be ready for it. I'm going to help the Jarl in any way that I can, but it shouldn't take too long. I don't know when Ralof arrived at the Palace, but I shouldn't be more than a week behind him. Stay safe, Ulfric, I will see you soon.

Love, Vara

Ulfric's eyes scanned the letter again before he looked up at Ralof and Galmar. His general raised an eyebrow and gestured to the letter, which Ulfric carefully folded and placed in a pocket of his robes.

"Thank you for bringing this letter to me, Ralof," Ulfric said gratefully. "The rest of your company has been given the north end of the barracks. You all deserve a rest, so you won't be sent out for a few more weeks. Training times, however, are the same."

Ralof nodded. "Thank you, my Jarl." He bowed and walked to the door, but hesitated before opening it. "Commander Oaken-Song is one of the most caring people I've met, sir. You're lucky to have her."

Unbidden, Ulfric's lips curled into a hint of a smile. "Indeed I am, soldier. Indeed I am." Ralof bowed once more before slipping out of the room, closing the door softly behind himself.

Ulfric turned to Galmar, who still wore that asking expression on his face. "So, Ulfric, what did the letter say?" the general asked, leaning forward in his chair slightly.

Ulfric took a seat across the table from his old friend before answering, "It says that Vara is going to be Vara." At Galmar's confused look, Ulfric expounded. "Someone asked Vara to inform Jarl Balgruuf about Riverwood's defenseless state. She agreed, of course, and said that she was planning to help the jarl in any way that she could."

"Aye," Galmar said with a nod, "that sounds like Vara. The woman can't turn away a person in need. Did she say when she would be back?"

"Yes," Ulfric said. "She doesn't know what Balgruuf will need her for, but she said that she shouldn't be more than a week behind Ralof."

"Good, good. The city could use her right about now. I don't know what it is about that woman, Ulfric, but the people respect her, and somehow, she makes life around here a little easier for everyone."

"That she does, my friend," Ulfric agreed. For Ulfric, Vara made life more than just easier, she made each day beautiful. She gave him the strength to carry on. It was strange that she had been able to intertwine her life with his, with the city's, so easily, but she had, and now the thought of a Windhelm without Vara was near impossible.

Ulfric was drawn from his thoughts by the scraping of a chair across the stone as Galmar stood. "You should let Wuunferth know that Vara should be back soon," he suggested. "The wizard had practically adopted the girl."

Ulfric let out a slight chuckle. "Indeed he has. I'll let him know." Galmar nodded and gave Ulfric a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room to attend to his other duties as general. Ulfric had his own duties as well, but for some reason, the thought of them didn't seem as dismal as it had when he had woken up. After all, Vara would be home in seven days. He could make it until then.

Vara wasn't going to be able to make it back to Windhelm within her one-week deadline, a fact that was becoming increasingly obvious to her. She had spent the last three days in Whiterun in preparation for her trip to High Hrothgar. At her request, Jarl Balgruuf had promised that he wouldn't tell anyone that she was the Dragonborn and had sworn his court and the soldiers who had been at the watchtower to the same oath.

A part of Vara felt bad about the deception. After all, the people of Skyrim looked to the Dragonborn to be a legendary hero, and she was depriving them of a person to fit that symbol. The rest of her, however, believed that this was the best move. Until she could figure out just what this Dragonborn thing was and what she needed to do, she didn't want to get the people's hopes up only to let them down if she failed. 'And you're scared that they won't believe that you're the Dragonborn because of your elven blood,' another part of her mind whispered.

Vara pushed that thought away, instead focusing on the task at hand. Ulfric. Her last letter, which she was sure he had received by now, was wrong. There was no way that she would be able to climb to High Hrothgar, speak to the Greybeards, climb back down, and make it to Windhelm in time. Even if Ralof had arrived late and only delivered the letter today, she wouldn't be able to make it in a week, and that was if the Greybeards even let her return to Windhelm at all.

She didn't know what to tell him. Informing someone that you are apparently a mythical hero of Nordic legend didn't seem like the kind of thing that one could do in a letter. But how else could she explain her absence? Finally, she sighed and began to write. Almost an hour later, Vara put the quill down and looked over the letter. It was short and far too vague, but hopefully, it would be enough.

Ulfric,

I know, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry, I truly am. Once again, I ask that you please don't yell at the poor soul who had to bring you this letter, save it for me when I return. I don't know when that will be, anymore. Things have changed, and I've realized that there are more people that I can help, that I need to help. I realize that this is probably some kind of abandonment of duty on my part as a Stormcloak officer, but the only thing I can do is beg your forgiveness. I'm needed here, even more than I am needed in Windhelm. Please watch over my company and let Ambarys, Ninesea, and Wuunferth know that I am thinking of them often. Stay safe, Ulfric.

Apologetically yours, Vara

P.S. Please don't try to send a response to me. The courier wouldn't be able to find me. I'm not planning on staying in any one place for very long; I don't feel like being captured by Imperials a second time.

Vara read the letter again and felt like crumpling it up and throwing it away, but she didn't. The desk that she was writing on already had the crumpled remains of no less than four other letters scattered across its surface; this was the best she was going to come up with. It wasn't good, and it would drive Ulfric crazy, but it was the best that she could do. Hopefully, Ulfric would forgive her for it eventually.

After staring at the folded letter for a few more moments, Vara addressed it to Ulfric at the Palace of Kings and left to find a courier who could make the trip. She didn't know how long she would be gone, but she had a feeling that this might be the only letter that she would be able to send. After all, reclusive monks that live on the highest mountain in Tamriel don't exactly receive much mail.

A few hours later, Vara stood before Jarl Balgruuf, saying her goodbyes before she left for High Hrothgar. "Are you sure you don't want to take a horse, Varaduilwe? It's a long walk to Ivarstead," Balgruuf asked for the third time.

Once again, Vara shook her head. "I don't know how long I would be in the monastery, and it seems wrong to leave the creature in someone else's care while I'm gone. Besides," Vara added with a wry grin, "I never learned to ride." Balgruuf raised an eyebrow in disbelief, causing Vara to chuckle slightly. "I always meant to ask Ulfric, I mean Jarl Ulfric, for lessons, but I never got around to it."

For a long moment, Balgruuf studied Vara. They were alone in the great hall as Irileth was overseeing the training of the guards and the steward was off drafting a proclamation about new policies that were to be implemented regarding the dragons and what to do if one attacked.

Finally, Balgruuf said, "You are closer with Jarl Ulfric than the typical Stormcloak commander." It was a statement, not a question. "And yet you aren't going to tell him who you are." Once again, the sentence was a statement, but this time, Vara could see the question in Balgruuf's eyes.

"No, I'm not," she said in a quiet voice. "It would be too easy for someone to use me against him, my jarl. If I am truly the Dragonborn, I am bound to make enemies. I don't need those enemies hunting down Ulfric as well." She paused before saying much softer, "I want somewhere where I can just be Varaduilwe Oaken-Song."

Balgruuf nodded. "Very well," he said. "Just remember that while I may not be able to grant you normalcy here, you are always welcome in Whiterun."

Vara smiled slightly. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, my jarl. May the Divines watch over you," she said, bowing low.

"And you. Good luck, Dragonborn."

Vara left Dragonsreach and made her way down the grand steps to the statue of Talos. The priest, whose name was Heimskr she had found out, was preaching loudly to anyone walking by, but he quieted as she approached the statue and knelt in front of it. His preaching, she knew, was largely against the Thalmor, but it occasionally extended to elves in general. She ignored the harsh words, as she knew that Talos welcomed all who would follow him and defend the people of the Tamriel he fought so hard for.

Bowing her head, Vara began her prayer. 'I don't know if you are listening, mighty Talos, but if you are, I could use some help. The legends say that you were called as Dragonborn once, long ago, and now that same calling has come to me. I will never be as great as you, and I'm not trying to be. However, Skyrim deserves a hero that it can look up to, someone that is capable of protecting the country and the people within, all of them,' she prayed. 'I'm not that person. Not yet. I may never be the hero that this country deserves. However, I ask for your hand to guide me so that I may be able to carry Skyrim's burdens as I am called to. I cannot do it alone.' Vara ended her prayer and opened her eyes, quickly wiping away the tears that pricked at her eyes, threatening to fall. Divines above, she needed all the help she could get.

Standing, Vara made her way through the city, saying goodbye to a few of the people she passed who had been kind to her during her stay. Jon Battleborn nodded to her as she passed, and she returned the gesture. His family, she had discovered, were strong supporters of the Empire, but it was obvious to her that the man loved his city far more than he did politics. A couple of people stopped her, and she spoke with them each briefly, but before long, she was out of the gates of the city and had started to make her way down the road.

It was almost noon already. She had meant to leave much earlier, but she had procrastinated writing the letter to Ulfric until the last minute, which had turned out to be a mistake that had put her far behind schedule. Still, she had a feeling that, as urgent as her summons to High Hrothgar were, the Greybeards could wait a few days longer. After all, they had been waiting for a new Dragonborn for centuries. Despite that, Vara quickened her pace.

It would take her at least a full day, possibly two, to reach Ivarstead, and judging by how Balgruuf had described the seven thousand steps, climbing those to High Hrothgar could easily take up half a day. That meant she would be spending the night under the stars today, something she didn't really mind.

She had bought a map of Skyrim from the general goods store as she didn't know this part of the country as well as the woods around Windhelm and further south in the Rift. The road that she was following, according to the map, didn't lead straight to Ivarstead. Instead, it followed the river and wound its way over to the marshes of Eastmarch before entering the Rift and circling back towards Ivarstead. That trip would take several days, so as soon as the road reached the river, Vara was going to turn and follow the mountain instead, trusting her directional senses to lead her the right way.

As the sun continued its journey across the sky, and as the hours passed Vara found her thoughts wandering to Windhelm and its citizens, as they often did. She hadn't seen Ninesea or Ambarys in what seemed like ages. Hopefully, Ulfric had let them know that she was alive when he had gotten her first letter. She hadn't even said goodbye to them when she had left on her undercover mission with the Thalmor, a fact she now regretted.

Hopefully, things were going well in the Grey Quarter in her absence. Ulfric would take care of the city, she knew, but she also knew that he tended to find himself by people with louder voices and Nordic accents, especially when it came to the upkeep of the city. And that wasn't to mention the war that was no doubt about to begin in earnest.

Up until Helgen, Ulfric had mainly been fortifying his borders and occasionally striking Imperial supply caravans. Other than that, he had been using words far more than swords to convince others to join his cause. After facing execution at the hands of General Tullius himself, Ulfric was likely going to step up his plans. Part of Vara worried what would happen to Skyrim as the war increased. Would it be torn apart so horribly that it couldn't be put back together? Would the people suffer more than they could bear? She hoped that that wouldn't be the case. The people of Skyrim were hardy and had endured the test of time already; they would weather this storm as they had all of the others that had come before. This time, however, they would come out on top.

The storm of war, however, might prove to be nothing more than a summer shower in comparison to the chaos that the dragons might bring, especially if Vara failed in her role as Dragonborn. A role she knew nothing about. What would be expected of her? Why had she been chosen? Would she even be able to survive whatever it was she had to do? What did the ebony dragon have to do with her? These questions and so many more swirled restlessly within her, yearning to be answered. The only people who had even a chance at answering those questions, however, were at least a day and a half of walking away. With that thought in mind and her questions fueling her, Vara pushed on as the sun continued to sink in the sky.

A/N So, I'm a little bit evil. I realize that. I would say sorry, but I'd be lying. *Evil grin* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter; I loved reading each one, and I'd love to read some more! *hint hint*