The Winterhold guards and a handful of Imperial Legionnaires stopped to stare at the pair. Ulfric held his head high, staring just above the tops of heads. Two of the Legionnaires snickered to themselves; the city gossip for months would be based around these few moments. Small villages tend to cling to the most unusual happenings until something else went on. Ulfric Stormcloak, the proudest of the Jarls being led in on horseback by the Dragonborn would not quickly leave the citizens' minds or mouths.
The Dragonborn dismounted her horse and handed the reins to a man leaning on the rails of The Frozen Hearth. Snow had drifted, covering most of the porch save for the area he stood. "I see you brought company," he mentioned, taking the reins. Nariilu waved a hand, motioning for Ulfric to dismount as well.
"Just watch the horses until I return from the College," Nariilu responded, slipping a few coins into Dagur's waiting palm. She grabbed the saddle bags and slung them over her back, hunching slightly with the weight. "Any interesting news?"
"I heard the Imperials won the war." Dagur nodded his head in acknowledgment of the fallen Jarl. Dagur had never been fond of the Empire, and would have actively supported the rebellion had he believed them to have any chance against the sheer numbers and might of the Imperial Army. He hoped to convey at least his support in his small gesture.
Ulfric nodded back, lifting his chin higher. The College was certainly not a place he ever wanted to set foot in, but his alternatives were few in the tiny town, and the Imperial soldiers present likely lacked hospitality towards the man who bore their enemies' name. Staying at the inn would not be the most discreet of options, leaving him open to attack or harassment from soldiers or citizens.
"An astute observation, Dagur. Wisdom certainly comes with age," Nariilu smirked, shifting under the saddle bags. "Come on, then, Stormcloak." She strode off towards the stone ramp leading to the College bridge. Ulfric sent one last glance to Dagur and followed the Dragonborn.
Nariilu used one hand to keep herself from sliding down the snow-slick ramp, ascending in an awkward crawl. She knew she looked much less than dignified, but few could appear stately in her position. Ulfric, in contrast, was well practiced in traversing the smooth worn stones of Windhelm, especially unencumbered from the luggage the Dragonborn carried, and climbed the ramp with little to do, his easy gait a stark contrast to the Dragonborn's clumsy plod.
A high elf woman waited for them at the top of the ramp. She greeted Nariilu with a smile and let her pass without a word. "Stop," She ordered, holding a hand out to Ulfric's chest. "This place is a safe haven for mages throughout Skyrim. As far as I've heard, the Stormcloaks aren't too fond of magic." Nariilu paused and looked back.
"It's not the magic that concerns me," Ulfric replied. Mages had a tendency to get themselves into situations that couldn't easily be escaped, and more often than not caused harm through their carelessness. Magic was immensely powerful and useful, in the right hands. Ulfric remembered seeing most magic being cast by the wrong hands.
The elf crossed her arms and looked him up and down. "Perhaps," she mused. "What brings you to the College?"
"I am traveling with the Dragonborn, and the Dragonborn traveled to the College," Ulfric said. No need for her to know the full truth about his situation. The few who knew, the better, although he suspected most of Tamriel would be privy to his capture by next Tirdas.
The Dragonborn sighed. "Let him in, Faralda. I'm keeping close watch on him; no harm will come to the College or the students." She lowered the saddle bags to the ground. "We won't be staying long."
Faralda narrowed her eyes. "I still have to assess his magical ability. A small test, customary, of course," Faralda said, a small smile curling at her lips. Nariilu frowned. She was fully expecting to have to slide back down the ramp and rent Ulfric a room at The Frozen Hearth. Divines only knew what kind of trouble Ulfric would find himself in with the Legionnaires. Boring posts led to extreme mischief. "A Flame Atronach is a simple and vital Conjuration spell for those with potential."
Ulfric was certain she was choosing spells for her own amusement. No novice mage he had ever heard of new conjuration spells! Then again, Ulfric never made it a priority to acquaint himself with mages, much less Conjurers. "I'm not familiar with that spell."
"Hmm, quite a predicament." Faralda dramatically tapped her chin. "I could teach it to you; I am rather eager to see the great Ulfric Stormcloak summon an atronach."
"By the Nine, Faralda, stop your mocking! Stormcloak, just Shout at the damn seal," Nariilu said. Faralda opened her mouth to protest. "Don't you start; you let me in just fine with the Thu'um."
"Oh, let me have a bit of fun," Faralda replied. "Standing out here all day in the snow is a rather mundane life." She waved her hand dismissively at Ulfric. "Go ahead and Shout. Entertain me, however briefly."
Ulfric took a step towards the seal. He hadn't Shouted since the beginning of the Civil War, against Torygg, despite the Dragonborn's urging during the dragon fight. Of course, accidentally riding a dragon had taken precedence, and any and all Shouts he knew had slipped his mind. A deep breath, a reminder of the meaning of the words, a quick prayer to Talos, the release– "Fus!" Ulfric shouted at the seal, catching Faralda's feet in the blast halfway on purpose. She stumbled to catch her footing as the seal glowed blue.
"Yes, that will do," Faralda said, smoothing her robes down as the seal deluminated. "Nariilu, I trust you will keep him out of trouble, and out of Ancano's sight?"
"Of course," the Dragonborn replied, picking up the saddle bags again. She planned to either hide him in her dorm the whole time she was there, or not lose sight of him for a second. Nariilu was not entirely certain how Ancano would respond to seeing Ulfric Stormcloak in the flesh, but she could made an educated guess or two. The pair would be at each other's throats in seconds.
Ulfric watched as the Dragonborn made careful steps across the half-collapsed bridge, and followed a few paces behind with sure footing. "How do you feel about hiding in a wardrobe for a few hours?" Nariilu asked once they had past the narrowest part of the bridge. She had wanted to keep the Thalmor's presence in the College a secret from Stormcloak for as long as possible, but he was smart enough to figure things out from the limited information she and Faralda had provided him with. At best, Stormcloak would keep quiet and stay hidden for their visit; at worst, he would be killed, and Nariilu wasn't sure how many times she could convince someone to spare his life in one day.
Ulfric would rather burn the entire College down, but seeing as the entire structure was made out of stone, he would have to settle. "I would prefer not to," he said.
"Hmm, thought so," the Dragonborn hummed. "Just keep your head down and stay close to me. Ancano usually follows Archmage Aren around at all hours of the day; he shouldn't be anywhere near the Hall of Attainment." Really, she would rather have Ancano attack Stormcloak or vice versa, just so she would have an excuse to kill him.
The main courtyard was empty, much to Nariilu's relief. She led Ulfric into the Hall of Attainment, gesturing him to be silent, and gently closing the heavy doors to keep anyone from noticing their presence. She padded into her dorm room, thankful for the muffle enchantment on her boots, and gingerly set down her saddlebags. The Dragonborn opened the furthest wardrobe and removed a few sets of robes, placing them on the bed. Ulfric followed her in, not nearly as silently, and sized up the wardrobe.
"No," Ulfric said under his breath, shaking his head. Wardrobes were not made for anyone, save for children playing hide and seek, to stay in for an extended period of time. Ulfric, being much larger than the average child, could not see how to comfortably remain in the wardrobe, especially with the doors closed. He couldn't see any benefit at all to being in the wardrobe to begin with; if Ancano, who Ulfric had guessed to either be a Thalmor or overzealous Imperial mage, wanted to pick a fight, he would rather simply get it over with.
"Come, now, it's very simple." Nariilu stepped into the wardrobe, spun around once, and then stepped back out. "See?" Ulfric crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, then. Die, for all I care. If Ancano finds out you're here, he won't be as merciful as I was." She picked the robes back up and returned them to the wardrobe, slamming it shut. The Dragonborn slung a satchel over her shoulder and stomped out of the Hall before Ulfric could respond.