Chapter 26

A young Nord man finished stabling his horse and began walking up the snowy steps towards the city. He had been to Windhelm before, but this time it was for a different purpose. This time, he was not a merchant, and the huge axe strapped across his back was a testament to that fact. This time, Ahmon was here on official business, in Bo Gro Graul's place as a member of the Stormcloaks. He had been entrusted with an important task, and he was determined not to screw things up.

Of course, his parents had been completely stunned when he returned to their little farmstead outside of Whiterun. His mother's face had turned white in shock, while his father's face had grown red with anger. He didn't understand why Ahmon needed to go to Windhelm with the axe. But then again, his father was a simple man, belonging to a generation of farmers that spanned back many generations. He would never understand his youngest son's desire for something more than a quiet farmer's life.

Despite it being against their wishes, Ahmon left anyways. He swiftly made his way to Windhelm, and his travel back to Eastmarch was relatively unproblematic, which he was glad for.

When Ahmon reached the front gates of Windhelm, two guards nodded at him, and he nodded back, before entering through the massive iron gates. He stopped a moment, wondering about what he should do first.

It's a little late to be asking for an audience with Ulfric, he thought quietly, I should probably get a room...

His attention was diverted by some raised voices to his right. A group of drunken men stood around a slim Dunmer woman. Their slurred speech was hard to understand fully, but Ahmon knew what they were saying wasn't nice. He could see by the woman's reaction that she was clearly uncomfortable, and so he wandered over to see what was going on.

"Is something wrong?" Ahmon asked lightly, and one of the Nords turned to him.

"Ah... nothi'n friend... we was just talkin..."

"Oh, there you are dear," Ahmon continued, and he looked pointedly at the Elf.

She turned to him, her expression one of frustration and exhaustion. She also looked malnourished, which he didn't like one bit.

"Come on, I've been looking for you. Let's get going, sweetie."

Ahmon nudged his way past the staggering drunks, and he swept his arm around the Dunmer's shoulders. She stared up at him for a moment, confused, but she followed him away from the crowd. Ahmon led her towards Candlehearth Inn, and when they were far enough away, he let go of her.

The woman turned to him, her brows furrowed together.

"You didn't have to help me," she mumbled quietly. "They're usually all talk."

"Their behavior, whether they're drinking or not, is unacceptable. It's no way to treat a lady."

The Dunmer's cheeks grew dark, and she nervously played with a strand of her dark hair. She peered up at him with bright red orbs, and Ahmon smiled at her.

"You're not like the other Nords," she told him softly.

"Not all Nords are that bad," Ahmon chuckled. "But a lot of them are real ass-"

"Ahmon?"

The Nord turned towards the source of his name. A haggard-looking courier stood near him, and he held a letter in his dirtied hands. He looked like he'd been through hell.

"Yes?" Ahmon responded, turning to him.

"Letter for you. Looks like that's all..."

"Thanks."

The man nodded, and then turned around and swiftly walked away. Ahmon tucked the letter into his pocket and turned back to find the Dunmer woman still standing there, watching him.

"Where do you live? Can I walk you home?"

The woman laughed, but her expression was sad.

"I don't really have a home," she admitted, feeling embarrassed. "Non-Nords are forced to live in the Grey Quarters, but there was a fire a little while ago and nothing was repaired."

Ahmon frowned. His trip to Windhelm wasn't looking too bright.

"That's not right... why wouldn't they fix the damage?"

The Dunmer laughed again.

"You don't spend much time in Windhelm, do you Ahmon?"

"No... not really..."

"Well, all the better. Someone as nice as you shouldn't waste your time in a slum like Windhelm."

Ahmon was fascinated by the elf. Despite her rather thin figure, she had a pretty face that he really liked to look at. Her skin was the color of deep, ashy blue, and he resisted the urge to touch her cheeks. Instead, he focused on getting a hot meal.

"Well," he told her after a moment. "What's your name? Come have dinner with me."

The Dunmer's eyes widened, and she glanced around as if to wonder if the Nord was talking to her.

"Have dinner... with you?"

"Of course, silly. Come on..."

Ahmon swept his arm back around her thin shoulders, and he began guiding her up the steps to Candlehearth Inn.

"You already know my name is Ahmon."

The Elf smiled. He liked it when she smiled.

"Nara."

"Nara. Now, Nara... have I ever told you about the time I met the Dragonborn? Yeah, he and I are good pals..."

Ahmon led Nara into the front room of the Inn while telling his story of how he met Bo. He quickly paid for a room, and when he was finished paying, they both walked up the stairs to the main hall. The Nord swept Nara into a chair and then took a seat across from her after setting the Axe down. He ordered two bottles of Ale and they chatted while waiting for their drinks and food to arrive.

"So, tell me," Ahmon started, and Nara glanced over at him. "What's a girl like you doing in Windhelm? What do you do?"

Her slender, dark fingers trailed along the condensation on her bottle, and she let out a little sigh.

"I didn't choose to live here," Nara responded quietly. "I used to be a student at the College in Winterhold."

"Really? Why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave. I was... expelled."

Ahmon's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"You got expelled?"

Nara's expression was dark, and she peered down at the worn wooden table with a small frown.

"I was framed for a crime I didn't commit. But they believed him over me, and so I was sent away."

"Oh. That's terrible."

"That's not even the worst of it. I was already down on my luck, with little more than a few belongings and gold to my name. I was attacked and robbed while trying to make my way back to Solitude. That's how I ended up here."

Nara paused and sucked in a deep breath.

"I was just starting to get back on my feet, and was putting money away so I could get a carriage ride back home, and then the fires happened..."

"I'm sorry that happened to you Nara," Ahmon responded softly, and he reached forward to grasp her hand.

Nara was taken back by his response, and she suddenly felt very weepy. She sniffled and tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She let out a shaky breath, and they were momentarily interrupted by the arrival of their meals.

"It's okay. Shit happens... but I know my money was stolen afterward. The ash had barely begun to settle before it was gone. So, here I am..."

Nara picked up her fork. She idly stabbed at a roasted carrot, and then she popped it into her mouth. It was delicious.

"Now, you said the College, and that means magic. What sort of magic do you do?"

Nara glanced up at the young Nord, and she studied his features for a moment while she chewed. He was smooth-faced and incredibly handsome. His smile was contagious, and she knew she could get lost in his deep, blue eyes. Nara didn't generally find Nords attractive, but there was something about Ahmon that she was completely drawn to.

I've barely known this man for half an hour and I can already tell how kind he is. It's a rare quality to find in Windhelm.

"I specialize in destruction."

"Are you a battlemage?"

"Sort of. I never got to finish my schooling."

Ahmon grinned, and he took a big bite of his steak. They both ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and when they were finished, the Nord sat back in his chair with a loud sigh of content. He patted his stomach and shot Nara a cheeky smile. Then he froze.

"What's wrong?" Nara asked, and she watched as Ahmon reached into the pocket of his coat.

"I completely forgot about the letter. I should read it."

"Go on then, might be important."

He eyes wandered down to the huge axe resting against the empty chair, and then back up at the Nord. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in Windhelm with such an item. She quietly watched as Ahmon ripped the seal of the letter off and unfolded it. He began reading, and the longer he read, the more his expression turned dark. He frowned, and then promptly tucked the parchment back into his coat pocket.

"Is something wrong?" Nara inquired, curious.

"Kind of... I need to retire to my room."

"Okay."

Nara stood up from the table, and Ahmon followed. He picked up the axe, and they both walked down the stairs. Nara began heading towards the front door.

"Where are you going?"

She paused and turned back around to find Ahmon staring at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't actually think I'd let you head back out there when you've got no place to go, did you?"

Nara's cheeks grew warm, and she struggled to come up with a response. The owner of the Inn eyed them curiously from her counter but said nothing. Ahmon waved Nara close, and she took a few steps towards him.

"Come on then, I got a room big enough for the both of us."

"You d-didn't have to-"

"I know I didn't. I wanted to."

Nara peered up at the Nord, and he was staring back at her. He reached up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, smiling softly. He led her down the hall and then he fished around for the key. When it was opened, he ushered Nara through first, and quietly shut the door behind him.

Ahmon placed the axe down against the dresser, and then slipped his satchel off his shoulders and placed it down on the floor with a dull thud. He wandered over to the bed and sat down on the edge, groaning softly as he rubbed at his sore neck.

"Ahmon?"

"Yes, Nara?"

The elf stood near the door with her arms crossed. She needed to know what he was doing in Windhelm.

"What is that axe for? Do you use it?"

"No, I don't use it. It's for Ulfric Stormcloak."

Nara stiffened, and she frowned.

"Don't tell me you're one of those Nords," she replied angrily, her voice cold.

Ahmon glanced over at Nara, and then he quickly stood up and walked over to her. He reached out and gently grasped her arms, and Nara looked up at him.

"I'll be honest with you, Nara, when I first got here, that was my plan. I intended to pledge myself to Ulfric. But after seeing firsthand what goes on in his city, and after reading the letter from my good friend... my mind had changed."

"What did the letter say?"

"It was from Bo, the Orc I told you about. I was bringing this axe in his place since he couldn't make it..."

Ahmon briefly filled Nara in on what the letter had said. When he was finished, Nara was still frowning. She let out a small noise of disgust.

"Typical. I have heard all sorts of rumors of his behavior at those parties. That doesn't surprise me in the least bit. He is a vile man, Ahmon. Please don't join the Stormcloaks."

"I won't."

Ahmon reached up and cupped Nara's soft cheek. She blinked and stared up at him with a look of surprise.

"I wouldn't want to make you mad," he continued softly, smiling.

"I-I wouldn't be mad... exactly... more like... disappointed..."

"Alright, then I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

They stood there for a long moment. Ahmon really wanted to kiss Nara, but he didn't want to scare her off. They had only just met, and he was completely smitten with her. So, he finally pulled away, which was hard for him to do, and he walked back over to the bed.

He quickly made work of his armor, stripping down to just his tunic and breeches. When he was finished, Ahmon slipped under the covers and laid down on the bed. He peered over at Nara, who was standing near the other side of the bed.

"I don't bite you know," Ahmon teased, and he patted the blanket. "Unless... you'd like your own room?"

Nara quickly shook her head, and she slipped under the covers beside him. He'd already done enough for her, and she felt bad about it.

"Oh my goodness," she mumbled quietly, "it's so soft."

Ahmon laughed, and he rolled onto his side so he was facing her. Nara rested on her back, with the blankets pulled up to her chin.

"How old are you?"

Nara opened her eyes, and she glanced over at him in the half-dark.

"I'm twenty-two summers."

"An older woman, I like that."

Nara laughed until she was breathless.

"H-how old are you?" She asked.

"Nineteen."

"Just a babe," she teased, and Ahmon leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Trust me, I'm a man."

Before Nara could say anything he rolled onto his other side and settled down to sleep.

It was a good thing, for his kiss had sent her heart racing. She lay there for quite some time, her mind preoccupied with too many thoughts. Eventually, she fell asleep and had a good rest for the first time in weeks.