Svala awoke before the sun, careful not to disturb the Bear of Markarth snoring away next to her. In a sudden rush of sentimentality, she found herself slipping off Ulfric's own amulet of Talos from around his neck. It was much more ostentatious than hers, which she had gifted to Sofie- it was gold and studded with sapphires and diamonds. The metal was still warm from his body heat as she clutched it tightly in her palm.
She was sore, pleasantly so, as she collected her dry uniform and dressed before sneaking out of the dwelling and making her way back to Windhelm, keeping the amulet safe in her pocket. The first guard she passed on the road she informed of Ulfric's location, in case the bandits decided to return. The last thing she needed was Ulfric's murder on her conscience.
A light snow had begun to fall, and the beauty of the tranquil, snowy landscape did nothing to alter her sour mood. She was fully prepared to tell Ulfric her plans to marry Brynjolf, until she was placed in front of the man. No matter what logic was placed in front of him, no matter how hard she tried to convince him, he would just not let her go. Absentmindedly her hand went to her midsection as she remembered his fevered words from the night before, "When you're fat with my child, everyone will know." Divines, the thought of being an actual mother, of having a child with her blood, terrified her. What if the child was cursed with dragon blood, like her? Her life was a constant loop of running and hiding from those whom wanted her dead, she couldn't imagine subjecting such an existence to her child.
She couldn't even be a decent guardian to Sofie. How could she ever think to be a good mother to her own flesh and blood?
And why did Ulfric affect her so? She thought back to the previous night- she knew she burned him, she saw the marks on his palms. Even after she had killed the dragon in the Rift, she hadn't lost control with Bryn like that. Though she supposed Bryn had never tried to gift her with ancient dragon knowledge during the act either...maybe that was it? It certainly wasn't the way Ulfric's intense blue eyes devoured her, or the way he fucked her like he wanted to possess her. Besides, after the war she would have no need to see the Jarl of Windhelm anymore; what good would it do to get attached?
She pointedly ignored the pang in her stomach at the thought.
Galmar met her at the entrance to the city, looking disgruntled (as always). "Is it dead?"
She scoffed at that, although the battle had been closer than she wanted to admit. "Do you really think I'd be casually walking around if it wasn't? Yes, it's dead." She looked him over; he seemed relatively unscathed. "You're not dead either."
"No, but I went for a hell of a swim," Galmar barked a laugh, then quieted, looking sheepish for a moment. "Look...Stormblade...you did good out there."
Svala felt her eyebrows raise nearly to her hairline. "Are you actually complimenting me?" Maybe the world really was ending.
"Don't get used to it," Galmar warned, his finger pointed at her nose. She had the urge to bite it. "You dropped your weapon, stupid mistake." The ebony sword from Ulfric was clutched in his fist as he extended it to her. "Don't do it again."
She rolled her eyes, pushing past him. "When do we leave?"
"You're eager," Galmar snickered as they strolled into Windhelm. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the stone city in pink and orange hues. "Aren't you going to stop by Hjerim first? Say goodbye to the little lass?"
The thought of seeing Sofie's crestfallen face again when she learned she'd be leaving was not something Svala wanted to see. Still, she didn't feel comfortable leaving Sanguine's Rose out in the open, and she wanted to stock up on healing potions before departing for Haafingar. "If she's awake- if she isn't I won't wake her."
"And Ulfric?" There was a hint of wicked grin on Galmar's face. She could feel his eyes zeroing in on the purplish blue bite mark on her throat. "Has he already returned to the palace?"
"I sent a patrol to fetch him," she said easily, turning down the street to Hjerim. "If you're so concerned perhaps you should go find him yourself."
"He didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" They were in front of the door now, and she was growing more and more annoyed.
"Someone tried to kill him," Galmar sighed, running a hand down his weathered face. "Dark Brotherhood."
Her blood went cold. She knew from Delvin just how persistent the Brotherhood was when they received a contract. The question was, just who had sent them? Ulfric did not have a shortage of enemies, it was something they shared. It could have been anyone.
"They'll try again," she told him gravely. "They don't give up."
"Aye," Galmar agreed. "I keep trying to tell him to be more cautious, but he's as stubborn as they come." With the last comment he gave her a pointed look. "Listen...he's sweet on you, yeah? Everybody sees it. Just don't..." Galmar sighed heavily as he seemed to be searching for the right words to say. "Don't break him."
She scoffed at that; of all things that came to mind when thinking of Ulfric Stormcloak, fragility was not one of them. "I doubt I could," she replied airily. "I'll meet you at the stables. I want to ride before midday." And with that, she unceremoniously shut the door in Galmar's face.
Svala was surprised to see Sofie sitting at the table when she entered Hjerim. "Mala!" She called brightly, running up to hug her instantly. "I packed some potions and herbs for you, and Calder has some dried horker meat and some apples for the ride." There was a stuffed knapsack hanging off of one of Sofie's wrists. "Can I study that pretty staff you have upstairs while you're gone? It has powerful magick in it."
She was stunned the child was in such good spirits as she shook her head. "Absolutely not, I'm going to lock it up. And I don't want you touching it." Sofie pouted at that, and she ruffled her hair affectionately. "But thank you. This will really help."
Sofie beamed from her praise. "Calder has something for you too." Upon hearing his name, her housecarl made an appearance, Ulfric's courting cloak draped over one arm.
"My thane, Jorlief said you forgot this at the palace."
Her eyes roved over the russet color cloak, wanting to take it and burn it at the same time. Still, she had never had a warmer cloak (she rationalized to herself) and impulsively grabbed it from Calder, throwing it around her shoulders. "Thank you."
She had placed a kiss on Sofie's forehead and, true to her word, locked up Sanguine's Rose in a chest in the bedroom (pointedly ignoring the Daedric Prince's whining as she did so) before making her way to Windhelm's stables. However, before she reached her destination, she found herself entering the Temple of Talos.
Svala never really had an inclination for religion- before she was the Dragonborn gold was what she worshipped. She had never even ventured into a temple before (her one drunken escapade in the Temple of Dibella didn't exactly count). Awkwardly, she sat in one of the benches staring at the imposing statue of Talos, his foot triumphantly stepping on a dragon.
"Blessings of Talos upon you," the priestess said, taking a seat next to her. "I haven't seen you in here before."
"I'm not one for the Divines." she said casually. In fact, Svala wasn't exactly sure why she had entered the temple in the first place. "What do people usually pray for in here?"
"Well I've been seeing a lot of the Shatter-Shields since the loss of their daughter, and Hillevi Cruel-Sea comes in a lot, but I haven't seen her husband in years," the priestess said with a shrug. "Ulfric prays for strength."
She thumbed his amulet, safely hidden away in her pocket. "I don't know how to pray," she admitted softly. Talos's stone face scowled down at her, silently judging her.
"Talos was born as Tiber Septim," the priestess began. "And he united Tamriel by founding the empire. He was rewarded for his deeds by being joined with the Divines in eternal glory; the only mortal to ever do so. So, it's fair to say that Talos knows more about our mortal existence than any of the other Divines. I would think whatever you pray for, if you do so with sincerity and humility, He will listen."
Svala nodded and thanked her, approaching the intimidating statue and kneeling before it. Awkwardly, she prayed for Sofie's safety, and Lydia's (for she refused to believe her only friend was dead). She prayed for Rune, Ralof, and Wuunferth in Sovngarde, that they would forgive her. Finally she prayed for Brynjolf and Ulfric, for their strength and safety, and in thanksgiving for the affection they held for her. Divines knew she was not the easiest person to love.
And for forgiveness for the whole Sanguine mess. It wasn't as though she had sought out a Daedric Prince to cavort with.
She did feel lighter after leaving the temple and making her way to the stables. Galmar was already mounted on his horse, staring at her with his usual distaste. Good. Friendly Galmar had her on edge. "Ready to go?" He asked her gruffly.
"Aye," she climbed atop Courier, throwing him the reins. "But you're going to need to tie the leads together- I plan on sleeping most of the way."
He grumbled something under his breath as they set off, her eyes drifting closed as the cadence of the horse's footsteps slowly lulled her to sleep.
The Battle for Fort Hraagstad could barely be classified as a battle at all. In fact, it took her and Galmar longer to reach the Haafingar camp than it did to take control of the fort.
The various wooden barricades and booby traps set up around the fort took her no time at all to dismantle, and once inside the courtyard she was surprised to find it mostly empty. A few Imperials were scattered around, looking emaciated and exhausted, so they were no real threat. "Keep one alive, I want to question him," Svala said to the small platoon under her command. "Something isn't right here."
Once the prisoner was brought before her, he only solidified her suspicions. For a while, the Imperial refused to talk, spitting and cursing at her instead. She let him carry on for a few moments before back handing him across the cheek with all her strength. "I really don't want to have to torture you," she sighed. "Just tell me why this place is so empty."
"Death to Ul-!" Slap. The prisoner glared at her, a vicious red mark forming on his cheek. "I'll never tell you, traitor."
She gripped a handful of coal colored hair and slid her blade beneath his quivering throat. "Like I said, I don't want to torture you. I have no qualms, however, with killing you and resurrecting your body to find out what I need to know."
The Imperial paled visibly, gaping at her. "I...I..." she pressed her blade harder against his olive skin, watching beads of blood paint the steel. "There's a wedding! In Solitude! The Emperor's cousin! They sent most of our men to the city in case of an attack! Now please, let me go!"
Some of her men were snickering at the prisoner's wailing. "Fine, lads, let him go." There was grumbling and dissension at that, which she quickly shut down with a murderous look. "You heard me, let him go or you'll answer to me." The bindings were removed from the man's wrists and just as they were about to shove him out of the fort, she stopped them. "Wait- I want his uniform."
Later, as she returned to camp, Galmar grunted at her in greeting. "That was fast. Did you burn the fort down?"
Svala glared at him. "No, you moron. The Emperor's cousin is getting married in Solitude, so most of the enemy forces have been sent to the city in preparation," his face paled. "I'm guessing that's news to you too."
"We've intercepted their bloody correspondence!" He roared at her instead. "And there was no mention about a wedding! Ulfric...Talos, Ulfric is planning on coming here, leading the invasion on the city!"
"Well you need to stop him," she replied calmly with a shrug. "If he steps one foot into Solitude during this, he'll be killed instantly. There's no telling if the Brotherhood hit is connected to Tulllius or not, and that's not a gamble I'm willing to take."
"Aye, I'll send a raven imm- woman, what in Talos' name are you doing?!"
She was stripping off her officer armor and trying to shove her large breasts and thick thighs into the Imperial armor she had stolen. "Don't watch, turn around!" She snapped, though she would be lying if she didn't admit there was a secret sort of glee on seeing the blush on Galmar's stoic face. "I'm going to Solitude. Someone needs to see if there are any other surprises awaiting us, and I thought it best not to go in full Stormcloak regalia. We're not the most popular of folk around here, if you haven't noticed."
"Well, take someone with you," Galmar muttered, a slight warble still in his voice. Ugh, she hoped he wasn't fantasizing about her now. "In case you're caught. Ulfric would have my head if we lost you."
She smirked. Oh yes, she had no doubt. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. But if I'm not back in two days time, then you can send in the calvary."
He grunted once more, and she figured that was the best acceptance she would receive from Galmar. And so she set off for Solitude that evening, dressed as an Imperial soldier, red war paint obscuring her scar from view. In truth, Svala was a bit excited- she had never been to the capitol city before and she was glad her first impression of it wouldn't be as she was slicing down enemy soldiers.
There was a tavern located right near the entrance to the city, The Winking Skeever, as it was called. Delvin and Bryn had always taught her to learn the lay of the land, the best place to look was in a pub. More often than not, the inn keeps had loose lips. The Skeever seemed to be no different, littered with few patrons given the time of night. She sat at the bar, ordering herself a mead before asking the Imperial serving her if he had heard any rumors of note lately.
"I've heard Jaree-Ra is hanging around the Wells District, looking for new blood to hire," the innkeeper said with a shrug. "And I think the Bard's College might be looking for recruits. You should speak to the head of the college, Viarmo, if you're interested."
"I'm not much of a bard," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "And the war keeps me quite busy...speaking of busy," she let her eyes roam around the inn. "You seem to be doing quite well. I haven't seen an inn so busy in all my travels yet."
"My lady, you're too kind," her host said with a small bow. "But yes, we've been blessed. Vittoria Vicci, the Emperor's cousin, is soon to be wed in the Temple of the Divines. The influx of travelers need warm beds to stay in, and well, we're the only inn in Solitude. Been seeing a lot of travelers from all over Skyrim, and even some from Cyrodiil!"
She sipped her mead, feeling a pair of eyes on her. Odd. Was her cover already blown? She hadn't seen any wanted posters of her own face since entering Solitude...but she knew that didn't mean the Thalmor weren't creeping about. "I've heard about this wedding, yes. When will it be held?"
"This Fredas, the nuptials are set to begin at dusk, but the festivities will surely carry on all night!" Another Imperial, with darker hair, called to her host about opening another cask of mead. "Excuse me, my lady, but duty calls. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."
She thanked him and drained the rest of her mead, grimacing at the taste. What she wouldn't give for some Black-Briar Reserve, or even whatever they served down at the New Gnisis Corner Club... "Excuse me, my lady?" She turned around to find an Argonian behind her. "I believe I have a message for you, if you'd be so kind to come with me."
Alarm bells rang out in her mind. "I think you have me mistaken with someone else," she muttered, trying to push past him. Besides, she had learned all she would here about the upcoming wedding, best to go slinking around Castle Dour now. "Now if you'll excuse me-"
"Does the name 'Little Lala' mean anything to you?" She stopped, stilled. No one outside of the Guild knew that name. Even though she couldn't see the Argonian's face, she could just image the expression plastered on it. "Ah, I thought so. Now please, if you could come with me. I'm afraid it's quite important."