Guess what? This fic has passed 50,000 words! It's basically novel length now! :)

I'm really glad everyone seems to be enjoying this so far!

Updates may be more irregular because I'm travelling for a bit so the internet may not be reliable.

Okay! Time to see what's going on with the Civil War, yeah?

Minerva

Minerva checked her pack again to make sure the horn was still secure as she climbed the seven thousand steps again. Though she and Delphine had parted ways when Delphine went to Riften, she was pretty sure the former Blade wasn't above snagging it again so Minerva would have to chase her down. Again.

It was still there, though, wrapped in cloth in the bottom of her bag. Despite herself, Minerva breathed a sigh of relief. She also noticed that the troll was no longer at the midpoint of the steps. Had someone gotten rid of it? It would be simple enough for the Greybeards to Shout it down the mountain, after all.

But Minerva got her answer as soon as she rounded the bend. Several banners were fluttering in front of High Hrothgar, each of them bearing one of two crests. They were either crimson with the Imperial Dragon, or blue with a bear's head in profile. Minerva had only seen the second crest a few times, but she knew what it meant: the Stormcloaks were here.

What in Oblivion was going on? She'd rested for a few days at Riverwood, true, but apparently something had transpired in those few days that she didn't know about.

"Can't I even rest after fighting off a flipping dragon?" Minerva muttered as she weaved her way through the banners stuck in the snow. As she reached the front doors, she saw two guards standing outside: one Imperial and one Stormcloak.

As Minerva approached the doors, the Imperial saw her and held up a hand to signal her to stop. "Halt, pilgrim!" Minerva halted. "I'm sorry, I know you've come a long way, but I'm afraid you cannot enter at this time."

Minerva fought to stop herself rolling her eyes. He sure didn't sound sorry. This was scripted as Oblivion, it was obvious. "What's going on?" Minerva asked. "What's with all the banners?" A thought struck her. "Hey, don't tell me the battles have made their way up here now?"

The Stormcloak shook his head. "Not exactly." He sighed. "The thing is, the dragon problem is causing enough damage as it is, so they're taking a break until it blows over. Or until the dragons eat us all." He shrugged. "Whichever comes first."

"We're trying to see if we can team up against the common enemy of fire-breathing, soul-eating lizards," the Imperial finished.

Minerva blinked. "Huh. I see." She looked between the two of them. "You know dragons breathe more than just fire, right?" The guards stared at her. "Eh, nevermind." She nodded towards the side of the building. "I assume this is going to take a while. Do you mind if I go over by the wall to get out of the wind?"

The Stormcloak shrugged. "Be my guest."

Minever nodded in thanks and went around the corner. Not two steps away was an open window big enough for her to hop into. Minerva shook her head as she hoisted herself inside. "Idiots."

There was no one in the halls as Minerva walked around. Which was good because Minerva didn't consider herself very stealthy.

Still, she could hear all the shouting. Shouting with a small "s", not the Thu'um. Which was good, because this place echoed very noticeably with so many people. No wonder the Greybeards took a vow of silence. Using the Thu'um in here would cause the whole place to come crashing down.

The more Minerva learned of the dragon language, the more natural it felt. It came to her slowly, but she didn't feel like she was memorizing the words so much as she was relearning them. Which made sense, she supposed.

But anyway, that wasn't the point now. The point was what she was hearing from the banquet hall where the Greybeards usually took their meals.

"If we have to negotiate the terms of negotiation, we won't get anywhere!"

"She's part of the Imperial delegation! You can't control who I bring to this table, Ulfric!"

"You come asking for peace, and you bring that bitch here?"

"Ysmir's balls! We might as well walk out right now!"

Only the first two voices were familiar to Minerva. The first was Master Arngeir, no doubt. She remembered the second one from Helgen. The General. There really was something big happening. Looking around, she saw a small figure in Greybeard robes sitting behind a pillar. "Sissel?"

The small girl started and nearly fell over. "Eep! Yo-you're back!" she said, quickly lowering her voice to a whisper after the initial yelp.

Minerva nodded and sat down next to Sissel, her heart aching a bit as Sissel leaned away. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Sissel looked away. "I...I know. I just...sorry..."

"Your da, right? Master Borri told me." Minerva sighed loudly through her nose and mentally decided that on the off chance Sissel's father was alive, she'd track him down and...well, Minerva would decide that once she caught him.

Sissel didn't meet her eyes, and Minerva decided to quickly change the topic. "What's going on? I thought the Greybeards didn't want any part of the Civil War."

Sissel shook her head. "I'm...I'm sorry, I don't really know what's going on. I just know that a man in fancy robes came up here and asked for neutral ground to have both sides of the Civil War talk it out. Master Argeir was really reluctant, but the man was able to talk him into it. And about a week later, they're all up here." Sissel shook her head. "It's so crowded...and loud." She looked at Minerva apprehensively, as if waiting for a reaction.

Minerva nodded. "That it is, Sissel. That it is." Minerva frowned. "When did this happen? Was it soon after I left?"

Sissel nodded. "I think the man came...two or three days after. I think. I'm not really sure. But everyone only got up here last night."

So if Minerva had left Riverwood earlier, she might have gotten back up here before all this. Well, no point thinking about it now. Returning the horn would have to wait, it seemed.

There was some silence, then an angry voice. "Fine. Fine! I see how it is!" Minerva rolled her eyes. The voice was haughty and much too sure of itself. It wasn't Ancano's voice, but the tone was very similar. "The Thalmor will treat with whomever eventually wins the war. Enjoy your petty victory, Ulfric."

Then the large doors to the banquet hall creaked open, and out stepped an angry-looking Thalmor woman. She took no notice of the two girls as she stomped past, grumbling under her breath about "that stupid Breton...who does he think he is..."

Wait, Ulfric wasn't a Breton. Sissel looked at iInerva after the Thalmor left. "Is she talking...is she talking about you?"

Minerva shook her head. "No, I've never seen that lady before. Besides, it seems like she was talking about a guy..." Then she remembered. "Wait...oh no, Gildas!" Minerva clapped her hands over her mouth. Calm down. Calm down. Gildas isn't the only Breton in Skyrim.

Yeah, but what other Breton do you know that stole stuff from the Embassy?

This was not good. If the Imperials were in there, maybe she could convince them to take a message. A warning.

But for now, she could only listen. That's when she saw that Sissel had a piece of paper. "What's that?"

Sissel looked up. "That Thalmor lady dropped it." Sissel shivered. "They really are scary."

Minerva looked over Sissel's shoulder to read it.

Don't forget.

I know.

Get out.

That was all. But Minerva recognized that handwriting. Feeling proud, happy, and scared all at once was a strange feeling. Go, Gildas! But what in Oblivion were you thinking?

Back inside, Minerva could hear the discussion start up again. The Reach for Riften. Morthal for Winterhold. So they were trying to exchange holds? Minerva crossed her fingers that the Imperials got Winterhold.

But things started to get heated. "If you think we'll just hand over Riften, you're out of your Shor-damned mind! If you want it so much, come and take it!"

"Well maybe we will!"

"General, please!"

"Hah! I knew you would get aggressive eventually! War-mongering Imperial!"

"Primitive Stormcloak dog!"

"Milk-drinker!"

"Traitor!"

"Coward!"

"Murderer!"
Minerva rolled her eyes so hard she was somewhat worried she'd sprain something. "These are the people running the war? Gods above..."

"Enough! Galmar, we're-"

"SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!"

Minerva and Sissel both jumped. The voice was loud, and had age to it, but it wasn't Master Arngier's. Minerva had never heard this voice before. "For the love of all the gods, can't you see what's at stake here?" The voice went on. "Dragons have returned! Alduin, the World Eater himself, has shown his face! Do you know what Alduin does? He eats souls! Every single death in this war only makes him stronger! Every! Single! One! How can you not get that!"

"Esbern, that's enough." That was Delphine's voice.

"Shit, how'd she get here before me?" Minerva hissed. And why was she here? She probably knew Minerva was coming back, but even then...

But what Esbern said seemed to get things back in order. "Fine," came one of the voices. "If he's really right, then we both have everything to lose. Remember that, Tullius."

Tullius was the General's name. Minerva remembered that. So that meant the gruff voice had to belong to...Ulfric, probably. She hadn't heard him speak at Helgen, him being gagged and all.

The negotiations continued. Riften for The Reach. Gold to be paid as reparations due to a massacre. No one ever got into specifics. They probably already knew all the details, anyway.

Finally, the negotiations seemed to be over. The large doors creaked open again, and people started filing out. The General from Helgen. Ulfric. A Nord lady in fancy Imperial armor. A bearded Nord man in furs, grumbling to himself. Two Stormcloaks in blue armor. Then two Imperial soldiers. And Minerva recognized both of them.

Gildas

Well, that had been tiring. Gildas pinched the bridge of his nose as he exited the hall with Hadvar. "Thank the Eight that's over," he muttered.

Hadvar sighed and leaned on the wall. "That was almost as exhausting as a battle was. Almost."

"Tell me about it," a familiar voice said. "I got exhausted just hearing it all."

Gildas' head snapped to his left to see a Breton with dark brown hair and a cocky smile leaning against the stone wall. "Min! What are you...how did you get past the guards?"

Minerva laughed. "What? Those idiots?" Gildas must have looked worried, because she rolled her eyes. "I just went around the corner and climbed in a window. Relax." She held up a piece of paper. "Nice job with that Thalmor lady, by the way. You should've seen her face when she came storming out!"

Gildas' smile faded into a scowl. "She knows I know what's under her so-called embassy. Even with her influence, she didn't have much choice at the moment."

"Oh my, blackmail? What on Nirn would Papi say?" Minerva cackled.

Gildas rolled his eyes. "Oh shut it, it's the fucking Thalmor. I'm sure they're an exception to most things."

"But seriously, Gil," Minerva's face was suddenly dark. "You've painted a huge target on your back, you know that?"

Gildas nodded. "It was going to happen sooner or later, remember. If they were going to come after Legion families anyway...well, why not give them a better reason." Minerva didn't look convinced. "Come on, you would've done the same in my place!"

Minerva looked away. "Gil, you of all people should know how my impulsive decisions turn out." Her voice was sad. Regretful. Crap.

Gildas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, please don't tell me you're still beating yourself up over that." Her mournful face said everything. "Divines above, Min. You know I'm fine. I'm not mad or anything. It didn't take my legs long to heal at all!"

"Only because Mama's a genius with Restoration," Minerva sighed. "I still...I mean...I screwed up. Like, badly screwed up."

"But it made you realize you screwed up, right? You're my little sister! It's my job to help you learn life lessons!"

"By breaking your bones? By letting me break your bones?"

Gildas blinked, then shrugged. "I mean...if that's what it takes-"

"Gildas, no!" Minerva shook her head. "You're such a..." She sighed. "Look, just...promise me you won't die. Not to...not to one of them. Or get yourself captured by them. Actually, yeah. Just don't get captured."

Gildas shuddered and swallowed, remembering everything he'd seen. "Don't worry. I'd rather die than end up like those prisoners."

Minerva looked Gildas in the eye. "Please. Don't let it come to that. If not for me, then for Mama. And Padi. And..." she looked over at Hadvar. "...well, lot of people would miss you. Got it?"

Gildas nodded, then wrapped his sister in a hug. "Okay. I promise."

"Swear on it."

"Fine, I swear on...um, however many Divines they decide there are once this war is over. But all that goes for you too, you know? I mean, sure the dragons probably aren't going to take you prisoner, but..."

Minerva snorted. "Dumbass. Okay." She hugged Gildas back tightly. "I promise."

Yeah, I may or may not show their grandfather's reaction to all this.

Next Chapter: Guess who? :)