"Sofie," Minerva said as she crouched in front of the girl, earning her full attention, "You will thank the Jarl for allowing you to stay, yes?"
"Yes, Minerva," she replied happily, smoothing down the purple dress Minerva had bought from the local merchant earlier in the morning.
Minerva nodded and stood, glancing at the mirror to look at her reflection; she still wore the same oversized shirt she'd slept in, only added a black leather vest to it and leather greaves. She would change as soon as she moved her things to Hjerim, but her priority was to get in contact with Delphine.
Both Minerva and Sofie took their backpacks and cloaks, and the two headed out. Before she stepped into the hallway, Minerva looked at the spacious room one last time, wondering if she would ever reside in it again. Somehow, she felt connected to the room even though she hadn't resided in it as much as she'd liked to.
Sighing, she stepped into the hallway and pulled the door close. She guided Sofie through the hallway, towards the war room and out into the palace hall.
The Jarl's eyes immediately flew to them as soon as they stepped into the great hall. They landed briefly on Sofie before they moved to her. Her stomach turned as she remembered the encounter from the previous night and fully expected him to be irritated to see her. To her surprise, none of the irritation showed on his face and he instead looked as calm and collected as always. There was no trace of anger, either, which meant he wasn't insulted. She felt a stone fall from her heart.
Once they stopped Sofie fell into a curtsy, the pride of wearing a new dress radiating off of her.
"Thank you for your hospitality, my Jarl," she spoke confidently, and Minerva watched the statement summon a rare smile on the Jarl's face.
Jarl Ulfric stood and walked down the few stairs in their direction. Minerva watched his every step carefully and grew more anxious the closer he got because she didn't know what to expect of him. She was surprised when he crouched before the girl, his attention solely on her.
"I have something for you," he spoke softly as he took out a necklace from his attire. He held it out to Sofie as he explained, "This belonged to your father. He wished for you to have it."
He put the necklace around Sofie and readjusted it on the new dress with a distant look in his eyes. A few heartbeats passed in silence before she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. The Jarl was surprised at first, but quickly hugged the girl back with an arm, patting her back. Minerva's eyes watered as she barely found the strength to keep the tears away, the effort made even harder by the sniff that came from Sofie.
After a while, Sofie stepped back swiftly and bowed her head to him, her voice quivering when she said, "Thank you, my Jarl."
"Wear your father's name proudly," he spoke, never once looking away from her, "He was a good man, and a even better soldier." He gave her shoulder a pat before he stood up, his attention now directed at Minerva. He pulled a iron ring of two keys from his pocket, handing it to her as he said, "I believe you need these."
She was speechless as she accepted the keys from him, never breaking his gaze as her bare fingers brushed against his and found his hands were cold. The second their skin met she felt a spark shoot up her arm right to her heart. Never did she think to see any act of kindness from the Jarl, especially not to a little girl. The display warmed her heart and made her belly do a pleasant flip.
"Thank you," she said. He merely nodded and gave her a quick once over. There was a hint of a smile on his face before he left to sit on the throne.
Minerva gently nudged Sofie towards the gates, taking her hand as they walked closer to it. She caught Sofie looking behind her shoulder, wondering, "Will we see the Jarl again?"
The guards opened the palace gates for them, Sofie taking one last look at the Jarl before they stepped outside. Minerva smiled at the display.
"Certainly," she promised as the two made their way to Hjerim.
Minerva's stomach turned in disgust as they came closer to the property, the memory of what she'd found inside the first time still haunting her. The stench of rotten, human flesh was still imprinted in her nose. She turned the keys into the lock and slowly opened the door, and as the interior revealed itself before them the two could only stare in wide eyed shock.
"Wow, look at the size of it!" Sofie stated as she ran inside, Minerva slowly following.
Sofie ran up the stairs to inspect her future home further and Minerva took in her surroundings; there was no indication that the house once belonged to a serial killer. Each detail was perfectly in place and the fire burned beautifully in the hearth.
Someone walked out of the kitchen and Minerva smiled.
"I didn't expect to find you here, honestly," Minerva admitted.
Nora smiled as she came closer to the table, carrying a freshly made loaf. "The Jarl has asked me to keep Hjerim clean and ready for the Dragonborn."
Although she knew Nora was here on behalf of the Jarl's orders, Minerva didn't want her to be her cleaning lady. Just the thought of having someone do the chores for her made her anxious. Nora was a good woman, one Minerva intended to treasure as a friend.
"There is no need to, Nora. You are free to stay here, but as a friend, to use the home as I would."
She placed the loaf on the table and faced Minerva with a confident smile on her face. "I promised I would do anything to help. And if it means keeping the house of the Dragonborn clean, so be it."
Minerva was humbled to have such a friend and her lips stretched into a smile as well. "Then I shall thank you with my whole heart, Nora. Thank you."
Sofie returned from upstairs and was happy to find Nora in the home, and she promised to help serve everything on the table for lunch.
Minerva went up the stairs, admiring the spaciousness of the house and the many rooms in it. Each room was neatly decorated, the Jarl surely had spared no expense. She didn't know what to think of him giving her such an extraordinary gift. Hjerim was worth far more than what she'd done for Windhelm, but the Jarl thought differently.
She walked in what she guessed was the master bedroom and noticed the huge bed in the center of it. As she walked closer to it, admiring the room in the process, she noticed a tiny, neatly folded note on one of the pillows. She opened it and read its content.
I hope you like your accommodation.
Jarl Ulfric
The smirk that unearthed on her face couldn't be hindered even if she looked like a complete fool. Sitting down on the soft mattress, she ran her hand over the silky, thick cover, and wondered if the Jarl had picked the decor himself.
She glanced at the few wardrobes and went to them, curious to find out whether they were empty or not. Her eyebrows arched at the content of the first wardrobe; several dresses were lined up and Minerva took one out. It was a burgundy silk dress with beautiful gold embroidery. She stared at the dress for a few seconds, admiring its cut and beauty before she put it back.
The next was a emerald colored gown with a black corset and Minerva bit her lip. The dress was even more elegant than the one before. She put it back and quickly took out another that had caught her attention; a midnight blue dress with a silver belt around its waist, hundreds of pearls adorned on its lower part. The pearls reminded her of stars twinkling on the night sky and she walked with the dress in hand to the nearby mirror, leaning the dress on her body. It was gorgeous, the most beautiful dress Minerva had ever seen as she stared at her reflection, barely able to contain her wish to put it on. This dress couldn't be bought at a regular market; it had to be tailored because the pearls alone costed a fortune and no local merchant could afford them.
She ran her hand over the soft fabric, her mind drifting to the Jarl as she wondered whether he'd ordered the dresses for her, but almost immediately she felt stupid for even thinking he might had wasted his time on such a menial task. She kept watching the dress in her reflection, wondering the same thing over and over.
Did Jarl Ulfric order these for me? If so, why?
Sighing, she glanced at the dress one more time before she put it back into the wardrobe. She opened the drawers and found a few nightgowns inside, undergarments and shoes. Minerva found the second wardrobe to be empty and decided to stash her armor inside later, the two mannequins in the room would also prove useful. Glancing at the room one last time, she walked out and decided to join the rest of them downstairs.
The stew was already served at the table, along with the test of the food. Once everything was ready, they sat down and enjoyed the freshly made meal. Minerva was starving, as was Sofie who was barely holding back from shoving down the food. It was probably a long time ago since she enjoyed such food.
Minerva was the first to finish after a while but decided to sit with them and they fell in a conversation. Once everyone was done eating they all helped clear the table. Minerva excused herself after the last things have been removed from the table, telling them she needed to write some letters.
Once inside her room, Minerva closed the door and walked to the desk in the corner, spreading the parchment in front of her as she sat down. She took the quill and the first person that came to her mind was Ralof, but writing him a letter felt wrong. She couldn't explain why she was so hesitant to get in touch with him, and if she was honest she didn't know what to write. She wanted to thank him personally for bringing Colette to Windhelm, and she guessed she would meet up with him soon.
So she decided to write the first letter to Delphine.
D
What's our next course of action?
M
It took a moment for the ink to dry, and when it did she folded the letter and sealed it. Next, she decided to write Lydia, to let her housecarl know she would spend most of the time in Windhelm from now on.
Lydia,
It has been quite a while since I wrote you, but know that I am well and alive. How are you? How is Lucia?
I own a property in Windhelm now and will arrange a carriage to transport the both of you here. It is a house large enough for all of us. Take your time, I will need a few days to prepare said carriage.
Sincerely, Minerva.
Minerva folded the letter and stood up, putting the cloak around her shoulders as she put the letters into the backpack. Heading back downstairs again, she found Nora and Sofie in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. She informed them she would head out to the inn to find a courier and take a stroll through the city.
Minerva stepped out of Hjerim and inhaled deeply, the chilly air oddly calming. The snow gently fell from the sky as she made her way to the inn.
It didn't take her long to find a courier thankfully, and she payed the man a nice sum of gold to deliver the letters fast and discreet. With the courier gone she had nothing else to do so she decided to go to the Grey Quarters. The information Jorleif had entrusted her with still plagued the back of her mind and she decided to take a look into the matter, to find out whether the Dunmer and everyone living in the Grey Quarters could be reasoned with.
The city streets were unusually empty as she walked further towards the Grey Quarters. She took the final stairs and stopped, taking in the sight of the ruined houses and dirty streets. Voices from not that far ahead caught her attention and she approached them. The first thing she spotted was a group of Nords throwing stones at something. As she rounded the corner her eyes widened as she realized they weren't throwing stones on the houses, but on two Dunmer holding their hands up in defense.
One Nord spoke up as he prepared to throw another rock, "You come here where you're not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!"
"We haven't taken a side because it's not our fight!" yelled one of the Dunmer back.
Another Nord added, "Yet you request our respect!"
One of the Dunmer fell to the ground as the rock hit him right on his head. She needed to intervene.
"Hey!" Minerva yelled as she hurriedly erased the few remaining steps, stopping before the Nords.
The men eyed her angrily before one of them barked, "This is none of your business Breton. Leave!"
She pulled back the hood from her head and their eyes widened in recognition. Only one remained unfazed by her title.
"The Dragonborn," he spat in disgust, stretching his neck from side to side and the bones cracked audibly with the effort. "I'll give you one more chance to leave before I'll beat you to death."
"Rolff!" another Nord yanked at his arm in an attempt to pull him away, but Rolff remained persistent.
"I'm not afraid of her!" he declared before he raised his fists, warning, "I'll give you one more chance to leave, or I'll beat you!"
Minerva had no intention of instigating a fight in the middle of the street but she couldn't leave the two Dunmer to their fate. That arrogant Nord deserved a lesson, and she decided to give him one. She removed her cloak and it fell to the ground before she raised her own fists. Rolff smiled broadly, as if his wish came true before he advanced on her.
She dodged each of his attacks, her slender frame making it difficult for him to land a punch. The first hit Minerva landed was a kick to his gut that sent him to the ground. Rolff shook his head and pulled himself up on his feet, again advancing on her but she knocked him down with a kick to his face.
The three other Nords helped a bloody and beaten Rolff up. Minerva's narrowed eyes remained on his when she warned, "You should watch what you're saying. Not everyone shares the same thoughts as you."
Rolff huffed in displeasure before they took their leave. Minerva watched their backs before they disappeared behind the corner. She took the cloak and shook the snow from it before she put it back on, then crouched next to the Dunmer whose head had been injured.
They winced at her presence as Minerva gently inquired, "May I?" and the Dunmer nodded hesitantly after a while. She brought her glowing hands to his injury before she casted her healing spell, the wound closing immediately.
"Thank you, but that wasn't necessary," one of them said, avoiding her gaze, as they stood.
"Nonsense. Do they harass you often?" she inquired sincerely.
One Dunmer patted the dirt from his attire, "Not often enough it seems, and according to them it's our fault."
Minerva crossed her arms as an idea came to her mind. "You know you have to earn a Nords respect. Perhaps you should consider joining the fight."
Both the Dunmer snorted before one stated, "And risk throwing our lives away for people that don't even care? No thank you."
So that was the problem. Luckily it didn't take her long to find out what exactly the problem was. "Would you consider aiding the rebellion if the Nords stopped harassing you?"
One of the Dunmer crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes further. "If that day were to come, I would gladly rise my sword for the rebellion, and I'm certain the others would as well."
Minerva nodded and shook both their hands before she tried one more time to convince them. "I'll see what I can do, but give it a thought. You would fight for Skyrim's independence, and for yourself."
The two Dunmer exchanged a look before they turned to her again. "We'll think about it. It would certainly feel good to fight for something."
"Thank you, fair lady."
Minerva smiled and gave a nod before the two left. She walked further into the Grey Quarters and found the New Gnisis Cornerclub, and without giving the idea much thought she entered. Everyone's attention in the tavern was pulled to her as she entered, their conversations died, and Minerva took a seat at the bar. The bartender regarded her first.
"We don't see many Breton's here," he stated, "What can I get you?"
Minerva took a quick look of her surroundings, nothing specifically caught her attention other than the Dunmer and a few Bosmer looking at her. She turned back to the bartender and ordered ale, and when she took the mug in her hand she took a small gulp. The ale tasted strange, as if it had mold in it but Minerva decided not to inquire further.
"You seem lost," the bartender inquired further, "Are the Nords giving you trouble as well?"
Minerva watched the bartender and took in his complexion. Lowering her eyes to the mug, she decided to play along. "Actually I just returned from the battlefield."
The bartender looked displeased, as though she insulted him. He ran a rag over the counter top, his attention on the task as he reprimanded her, "If you're stupid enough to throw your life away for them, then so be it."
An uncomfortable silence fell in the tavern and Minerva looked behind her again, now fully aware of every pair of eyes watching her. Adrenaline slowly started to pump through her veins as she returned her attention to the mug. She decided to ignore them for now but knew that she wasn't welcome here.
"I don't have problems with the Nords," she spoke, "Not anymore, at least."
"How so?" inquired the bartender curiously.
Minerva took another sip from her ale and was certain there was mold in it. She looked the bartender square in the eye when she stated, "I joined the rebellion and earned my respect."
"Did the Jarl's steward sent you?" Someone from behind her bit out and she turned in her seat. A Bosmer shot the question at her and Minerva crossed her legs.
"No. Why should he?"
The Bosmer huffed and resumed drinking his ale, but another Dunmer answered, "Because that is the same line the guards tell us. That we should earn their respect."
"I don't see anything wrong with that," Minerva spoke and earned the Bosmer narrowed gaze. "What have you done to earn their respect, exactly?"
"They destroy our homes," another Dunmer bit out and Minerva looked at him, "And the Jarl does nothing to punish the ones responsible! They can do as they please because they are Nords!"
"Exactly!"
"Because Skyrim is for the Nords, and for nobody else!" one bit out bitterly.
She stood up and eyed each one of them, showing them she wasn't intimidated by their sharp gazes the least. "You sit in the tavern and complain about your current state, instead of fighting for a change." Her statement had summoned a snarl over a few of them and she couldn't help but continue to mock them in hope she would get the desired result.
"The Jarl is fighting for everyone's freedom, not just the freedom of Nords. All true sons and daughters of Skyrim are welcome to fight to give our children a better future. Isn't that worth fighting for?!"
Everyone watched her with their eyes narrowed after her little speech. "The Dunmer and Bosmer are great warrior's," she tried to appeal to them one more time, "Why are you throwing away your talents, when you could fight for a better future, an independent Skyrim?"
No one said a word. Minerva paid for her drink and eyed each person in the tavern one more time before she headed for the exit.
"Under one condition."
Minerva stopped as she was just about to turn the handle, she turned to face a Dunmer who stood up from his seat. He kept his narrowed eyes on her when he revealed, "We want every Nord that has harassed us in any way possible to be arrested."
"Aye!" roared the tavern in unison.
"Especially Rolff Stone-Fist!"
The bartender looked at her with a smug smile on his face, adding, "We are citizens of Windhelm after all. We want to be treated as such."
"Aye!"
Minerva eyed the bartender carefully, gauging her options and their conditions to join the rebellion. Their help would be a huge asset but would the Jarl agree to this? Minerva feared he would rather lose the war than to depend on the Dunmer for help. She left the tavern without voicing a word and made her way to the palace quickly, hoping she could present the news to Jarl Ulfric.
When she opened the palace gates moments later, she was disappointed to see the throne empty. Jorleif was sitting on the huge table, several parchments strewn before him. He was too occupied in his readings to notice her, and only did so when she called out to him.
She eyed the throne, then looked at him before asking, "Where is the Jarl? I need to speak to him."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," apologized Jorleif before explaining, "The Jarl retreated to his chambers and strictly said not to be disturbed. Perhaps I can help you?"
Minerva glanced at the entrance to the war room, briefly thinking of going to the Jarl anyway, despite his wish to be left alone. The reason why he requested such a thing interested her, but it would be wrong to ignore it. So she would talk to Jorleif instead and find out his opinion.
"I've talked to the Dunmer, well, most of them. They're frustrated because a group of Nords have been harassing them for quite some time now and the Jarl has done nothing against it."
Jorleif smoothed his beard, looking disturbed as he listened to every word she said.
"They're even willing to join the rebellion but only if the Jarl decides to act. They've particularly asked for the arrest of Rolff Stone-Fist."
A shadow was casted over his features and Minerva couldn't remember a time he looked so distressed. "Dammit, Rolff, you daft man!" he spoke as he shook his head, sighing before he explained, "He's Galmar's brother, and he thinks he can do whatever he likes." He sighed again, this time out of pure irritation. "The Jarl won't like this."
"What do you propose?" She asked, eager to hear the stewards opinion.
Jorleif thought for a moment, soothing his beard as he stared out behind her blankly. "The Jarl will not want to get involved," he stated warily, "He fears either side might riot if he takes action."
"I highly doubt the Nordic citizens will riot because he arrested a group of them for harassment." Minerva summarised, finding the thought somehow ridiculous. "The Dunmer want to be treated as citizens of Windhelm. That is their only request."
Jorleif sighed and Minerva saw she talked the idea into him. "Very well, I will talk to the Jarl about this, but I won't promise anything. Though, if I am honest, I would be happy to see an end to it. Thank you, Dragonborn."
Minerva smiled, "Don't thank me yet. We still have to see what happens."
Jorleif nodded to that and Minerva left the Palace, deciding to head home and wait for Delphine's letter.