Every evening when practice was over, Estelise changed out of her leather armour into a flowing dress. One night, she left the barracks to find Taarie standing outside the door.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, grabbing the high elf's hands.

Taarie gripped her hands. "I had a horrible day at the shop, I need to forget all about it and I don't want to drink alone." She linked their arms together and the two walked towards the gate.

"I was just in the kitchen having some stew," Estelise said. The fabric of their long skirts brushed together as they strolled. "It was so bland. I could use some wine to forget about that." The two laughed together as the evening sky settled over Solitude.

Taarie led Estelise into the Winking Skeever. The inn was full of locals and soldiers, drinking and laughing together. The pair chose a table near the fireplace, where they could hear the bard playing over the sound of conversation. "I'll get us some drinks," Taarie said, leaving Estelise to look around the room. She could see a cluster of soldiers at a bench, many more than the furniture was built to hold. Locals sat enjoying a warm meal, travellers drank at the bar. People from all over Tamriel enjoyed each other's company, surrounded by cheerful music and the warmth of the fire. Estelise rested her face in her hands and smiled. This is how things are supposed to be. A woman carrying three tankards of mead bumped the table as she rushed back to her friends.

Taarie arrived back at the table carrying wine and two cups. She poured it out before sitting down. Estelise thanked her and took a sip. "So," she said, putting her goblet on the table. "What happened today?"

Taarie instantly went into a rant about her "terrible" day. Stories of fabric arriving late, colours being darker than described, and customers daring to ask for alterations to the high elf's flawless designs. Estelise stared at her friend's face in amusement. The haughty elf wouldn't last a day in the legion. Regardless, Estelise enjoyed listening to her talk. It was comforting and familiar after spending so many years at the temple of Dibella, surrounded by women who liked the finer things in life. She mentioned this to Taarie.

The high elf refilled her glass. "How could you possibly leave that beautiful temple?" Estelise laughed initially, but then she stopped to think. Her eyes slowly drifted around the room, taking in the amount of people enjoying their evening. Then she thought about how many taverns like this were scattered across Skyrim. Across Tamriel. Each full of people just looking for company and a fun evening.

"It was the right thing to do," she said, staring at her wine. "I do miss the girls though. And the amazing food."

"I'm so jealous," Taarie said playfully. "But I couldn't wear those robes every day." Estelise smirked.

"We only wore those to pray."

The two women's laughter blended in with the sounds of the tavern. The room slowly got louder as the guests drank more and more. A group of people had started dancing to the bard's upbeat music. Estelise ordered another bottle of wine and shared more stories from the temple.

"Okay, that's enough talking about Markarth," Estelise emptied their second bottle into her glass while Taarie recovered from a fit of laughter.

"I don't know how you manage to keep a straight face," Taarie said. "And I thought my job was bad." Then, her expression became sympathetic. "Will you go back? Once this war is over?"

Estelise took a long drink from her goblet, then stood up. "Maybe, if I don't die first." She took Taarie's hands and pulled her up from her chair. "Come on, let's dance."

"Oh, I don't really dan-" Ignoring Taarie, Estelise headed to the floor.

The two elven women joined the cluster of drunken people dancing to the music. They laughed at each other while swaying their bodies to the music. Estelise felt herself let go, and let happiness take over. She forgot why she was in Solitude, why she wasn't at the temple, and all the struggles of her training. Between songs she ran to the bar to buy everyone she danced with some wine. Her head felt light, and she let herself dance freely, her long hair flowing around her. She raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips, the shimmering fabric catching the warm light.

The bard's singing stopped, and the dancers slowed down. Estelise looked around for Taarie and smiled when she found her. Then she looked beyond Taarie, to the bench of soldiers. Her eyes lingered on one figure: the dark elf soldier Fioran. She was looking directly at her. Or was it someone behind her? She expected her to look away, but she didn't. Estelise looked away to focus on her friend.

"More wine?" Estelise laughed and headed to ask for another bottle. It was getting harder to walk across the floor without tripping.

Estelise made it to the bar, and asked for the same again. She realised then she was running low on septims, but decided it was worth it for a fun evening. While she was counting out her change, she felt a body beside her lean on the bar. She looked up in irritation. Fioran was handing gold over to the innkeeper.

"Why did you do that?" She asked, picking up the bottle before Fioran could change her mind.

"I don't have all night to wait for you to count," Fioran smirked at the inkeeper who simply laughed in response. Estelise turned to go back to her table. "Wait," Fioran touched her arm. Estelise felt her heart jump in response. "That dress looks good on you."

Estelise felt her face heating up. She was dumbfounded for a moment, and could only stare at Fioran's crimson eyes in confusion. "Are you drunk?" She asked. Not waiting for a response, she rushed back to her seat. Of course the dark elf was drunk.

The wine stopped tasting like anything.

The music was getting slower, and people were heading home. An intoxicated Taarie was telling the same story about discoloured fabric to some poor Breton she met that night. Then, shouting caught the attention of the whole room. Estelise looked over at the bench.

Fioran and one of her friends were standing an inch from each other with fiery rage in their eyes. Estelise couldn't hear what they were saying over the other soldiers yelling at them to sit back down. The shorter soldier shoved Fioran. Estelise rolled her eyes and sipped her wine. She missed whatever happened next; when she looked up Fioran's friend was storming out. Most others followed her, a few stayed back to watch Fioran. She snapped at them to leave her alone, and so she sat on the bench alone with just a tankard of ale.

Taarie was starting to doze off in the uncomfortable wooden chair. A woman they met that night asked if she should take her home, and Estelise nodded, staying seated. She watched Fioran sitting alone at her bench. The empty bottles on the table were concerning.

Estelise remembered Fioran's attempt at kindness in complimenting her dress. She decided she owed it to the solider to see her home safe.

She slapped Fioran on the shoulder. "Get up. I'm gonna help you back to the barracks."

Fioran wobbled as she got up from the bench. Estelise slid herself under Fioran's arm and supported her weight, almost falling herself. She took small steps towards the exit, trying to avoid dropping Fioran. She struggled to open the door while carrying another person, but eventually the pair fell through the exit. Estelise steadied herself and watched Fioran fall into a pillar. The night air seemed to sober her up slightly. Estelise offered her arm to her, and the dark elf took it. She led her through the dark streets of Solitude, cold and full of shadows in the night. Her legs and arms ached while dragging Fioran up the slope to Castle Dour. They crossed the courtyard, the dark elf tripping over what felt like every blade of grass. Estelise was exhausted once they reached the barracks.

Dropped off at her bed, Fioran mumbled an uncharacteristic thanks before falling asleep. Estelise pulled her own blanket over herself and prayed to Dibella that her hangover wouldn't be too bad.

"I just don't see how a fourth bottle of wine was necessary," Neesh watched Estelise flinch at the sound of every weapon clang. She pressed her free hand to her forehead. "Won't a healing spell fix it?"

Estelise glared at him. "I can only heal wounds."

"A potion then?"

"I don't have any!" She swung her sword at him; he laughed as he deflected it, making her stumble. "Maybe four was too many."

In the corner of the courtyard, Fioran was lying across the bench, out of the sunlight. Her hand covered her eyes. She had never skipped practice before. Estelise and Neesh exhanged glances. Estelise crossed the grass to stand over the dark elf.

"Are you alright? It looked like you had a lot to drink last night. I did too, though. My head hurts so much-"

"Why are you bothering me?" Estelise blinked. Fioran pushed herself off the bench. "I should've stayed in bed," she pushed open the door with her shoulder and slipped into the dark room. Estelise was left standing in the shadows.

Storming back over to Neesh, Estelise gripped her sword.

"I am never being nice to her again."