Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm not sure yet who the Dragonborn will be – contenders include Lia, Irkand, Balgruuf, Jenassa, Uthgerd, Lydia, Farkas, Sigdrifa, Delphine and Stump.

…

Expenses

Lia was grateful that she'd taken the time to get the Mage's Blessing from the Guardian Stones because it became blindingly clear after a couple days that her magical skills were going to be the best way of staying alive. Self-trained to begin with, her spellcraft had atrophied in her years as a Legion cook, though her alchemy had improved because the Legion healers were all too busy to create healing potions for the civilian staff. Balgruuf took the same laissez-faire attitude to patronage as he did to permitting businesses to ruin within Whiterun – so long as it was profitable and at least publicly respectable, he asked no questions.

The Hold guards had taken a hit with the civil war nibbling about the Jarl of Whiterun's borders and bandits setting up shop in the half-dozen camps, ruins and mines that were scattered around the plains. While certainly professional, the Companions were both expensive and stretched thin, leaving large holes in Balgruuf's ability to defend his Hold and people from the depredations of lawless men and mer. Trade, already lessened thanks to the civil war, was now little more than a trickle of pack-peddlers and farmers with wheelbarrows of vegetables. Prices were already slowly creeping up and it wasn't even autumn yet. People would starve come the winter if something wasn't done.

For the third time since she came to Whiterun, Lia overheard Balgruuf arguing with Avenicci over the finances, especially with the increased guard presence at Riverwood. In a normal season, the adventurers (sellswords by another name) would be bringing in loot from the bandits they killed and trading it for meat, mead and somewhere to stay. Whiterun's traders would repair or scrap the loot, turning it into trade goods that could be sent to other towns or kept as collateral for bigger bargains. If the stuff was especially good or magical in nature, it could be used to pay an adventurer without actually dipping into the Jarl's purse or to grant a new Thane or huscarl an appropriate weapon. Companions, of course, were paid in cold hard coin.

"We need to remove all extraneous expenses!" Avenicci urged for the fifth or sixth time. "If it can't turn us a profit, get rid of it!"

"I have made promises and I will not become an oathbreaker for mere coin!" Balgruuf barked in reply.

"What about sending that Aurelii woman to the Companions? Her uncle's there and she's not our problem."

"Her knowledge on dragons supplements Farengar's own. And I have offered her guest-right."

"My lord, you are sheltering someone whose family was declared traitor. A family, I might add, that nearly dragged yours into treason."

Avenicci had his points, Lia was willing to concede. From the little she could ascertain, her father had approached the southern Jarls of Skyrim – Dengeir of Falkreath, Laila Law-Giver of Riften and Balgruuf's father, who'd shared his name with the cognomen of 'the Lesser' – and some border lords of Hammerfell to support his bid for the Ruby Throne. Or the bid of his sons, whichever one should survive the war with the Thalmor…

"I have offered her protection, Avenicci." There was a pause as Balgruuf either inhaled deeply or sighed explosively. "I will, however, see what happens after Irkand delivers the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow to Farengar."

"Thank you, my lord." Avenicci's tone got a little more chipper. "I have some ideas on how we can raise revenue…"

Lia took herself off after that. So far, she'd done nothing but rehash well-known draconic lore with Farengar and practice a few Destruction spells on the practice dummies that lined the Great Porch, where once a dragon had been captured and held. Avenicci had some right to be concerned, both politically and financially, and the less she did, the more she fell into Balgruuf's debt.

Downstairs, she saw a wiry Breton woman in leather armour with a lock of greying blonde hair falling from the hood of her woollen cloak poring over a book with Farengar. The mage, whose sarcasm made for some amusing conversations (the one about the potential mating habits of dragons never ceased to make her laugh), looked up and offered a nod. "Ah, and here is our other dragon expert," he said cheerfully.

The Breton looked up and despite a few lines around eyes and mouth, Delphine Revanche still had the same deceptively delicate, heart-shaped features that belied her absolute mercilessness and ambition. In some ways, she'd made for a better wife to the athletic, unambitious Rustem than the dour, devout Sigdrifa, and had never done Lia wrong. If only by ignoring the child who was constantly underneath everyone's feet.

"You survived Helgen?" the former Second Blade observed with some surprise and scepticism. Farengar had been talking, probably unaware that Delphine had been pumping him for information the whole time.

"So did Mother," Lia said sweetly, unable to resist prodding the woman after her tone.

Delphine made a small noise in the back of her throat and decided not to grace the pointed comment with a reply. "My employers will be happy with the information from the tablet when it arrives."

"Irkand and Farkas of the Companions are on it," Farengar assured her cheerfully. "I look forward to more in-depth studies on the dragons."

Lia rolled her eyes heavenward and noticed Delphine doing the same. Dragons were immortal, nigh-invulnerable engines of destruction. Meeting one up close would not be… enjoyable.

"Well, the draugr will be deader and the place cleaned out of anything portable by the time those two are done," Delphine observed blandly. "Mind if I borrow the other dragon expert? She might know a few things you don't."

"Hardly," Farengar said dryly. "But still, her parents were Blades. Perhaps she might have some information new to you and your employers."

"The Great Porch is free," Lia told Delphine, refraining from sending Farengar a death-glare. He might know more on the dragons themselves but she was rather more familiar with the Prophecy of the Dragonborn than he.

"Fantastic." Delphine nodded to Farengar and then followed Lia up to the Great Porch, which was deserted at this time of the day.

"How much do you remember of Cloud Ruler?" the former Second Blade asked without preamble.

"Enough to moderately despise my grandfather," Lia answered with some (in her mind) justifiable bitterness.

"Only moderately?" Delphine snorted.

"I tend to save my emotional energy for more important things than a dead man. What are you doing, Delphine?"

The Breton woman leaned against the stone wall that stopped people from falling off the Great Porch. "I'm a Blade. The Prophecy of the Dragonborn has begun and it's my duty to see the World-Eater dead."

"Amazing, someone from the order who actually kept their oaths." Lia couldn't help the sarcasm from seeping into her voice.

"I have some faults, but oathbreaking isn't one of them." Delphine's glass-blue eyes narrowed as she studied Lia in her hand-me-down fine clothing. "Passing yourself off as a draconic expert, eh?"

"In the hours before the wall was breached at Cloud Ruler, my grandfather sat me down and made me memorise the particulars of the Prophecy of the Dragonborn and what they would need to do before defeating Alduin," Lia answered flatly. "Farengar knows more about dragons themselves – but I know every step the Dragonborn must take from revelation to gaining the Greybeards' recognition to finding Alduin's Wall."

"Alduin's what?"

"Alduin's Wall. Carved by the Dragonguard in the Second Age…" Lia shook her head at Delphine's slightly blank look. "Just know that I know enough to make suggestions to the Dragonborn."

"They'll need more than suggestions," Delphine said dryly. "So, consider yourself a Blade?"

"No." Lia's answer was flat and immediate. "I'm doing this because I don't want the world to end."

A flicker of emotion passed across Delphine's face. "Pity. You might be more than a Legion cook."

Lia walked up to Delphine and got within an inch of her nose. "I am descended from a madwoman and a bastard Priest of Akatosh who couldn't even keep his oath of celibacy," she told the Blade tightly. "That's the truth I had to live, Delphine. I don't fucking care about oaths or Blades or old grudges. I'm more interested in dodging the Thalmor because of the sins of my elders!"

Delphine tensed up but wisely said nothing. Perhaps because Lia's magicka, more developed than her own, was noticeable by the faint scent of ozone that filled the air. One word and Lia would cast.

With a sigh, the magicka dissipated and Lia stepped away from her stepmother. "I assume you're going to approach the Dragonborn after they've gone to High Hrothgar?"

"Damn straight." Delphine relaxed subtly. "I know the Greybeards will send them on that fool's errand to Ustengrav. I'll make contact then."

"Fine. If I'm not in Whiterun, leave a message for me with the Jarl or my uncle." Lia folded her arms against Delphine's slightly judgmental stare. "I've done some pretty unpleasant things to stay alive, Delphine, because of the promise I made my grandfather. Once the World-Eater's defeated, my life can be my own."

"You can't run forever," Delphine pointed out.

"True. But once the World-Eater's gone, I can run where I please." Lia smoothed down her heavy skirt. "Was there anything else or did you want to make a few more judgments about my life choices?"

"I would have expected a descendant of Talos to be a little more courageous," the Breton observed. "But then, I guess you're Arius' descendant after all – happy to work from the shadows and give the orders, but never get your hands dirty. One day you'll have to fight – or die."

Been there, done that and wound up mad from the experience, Lia thought bleakly as she pointedly turned away from Delphine. Blessed gods but I wish that one of the loremasters had survived so this shit wasn't my problem.

Once downstairs, she ran into Lydia, Balgruuf's bastard niece and huscarl-in-waiting. "Who were you talking to?" the statuesque brunette asked as Delphine stalked back.

"Someone I knew from Bruma who has an interest in dragons," Lia answered with a sigh. "My uncle's going to be thrilled when he realises she's the one who wants the Dragonstone."

Lydia, no fool, read in between the lines to understand that Delphine was a Blade. "Sounds like there's history between you and her."

"She was my stepmother briefly," Lia said flatly.

Lydia took that as a hint to stop prying, though Lia very well knew this conversation would be reported to Irileth and Balgruuf. "I was actually looking for you," the huscarl said instead. "Are you up for a trip outside the city?"

"Certainly, but why?"

"If you were a Legion cook, you were probably a good amateur alchemist too, and potions are getting expensive. I was thinking we do a sweep of the Hold between Whiterun and Riverwood, gather what we can, and I can do a spot of hunting. If I eat salted venison one more bloody time…"

Lia nodded eagerly. Her main objection to leaving the city had been a lack of someone muscular to hit on things while she cast Sparks from afar. And, assuming Lydia was ignorant of herbcraft, Lia could collect some lavender and blue mountain flowers to brew potions for her particular magical specialty under the guise of collecting them for health and stamina draughts.

"Sure, though if you're sick of salted venison, I should take over the cooking," Lia answered with a wry smirk. "I'm used to working with Legion rations-"

Lia paused as a thought occurred to her. "It's been three days since Helgen and I know for a fact that the Keep's relatively intact. Tullius, if he survives, will wait at least a fortnight before sending Legionnaires to secure what's left of the supplies there – and bandits will move in before that."

Lydia's eyebrow rose and then she nodded sharply. "There's a Dunmer merc and a failed Companion who can be hired for cheap down in the town – Jenassa's good at what she does and Uthgerd's a competent fighter who's desperate to regain her honour somehow. Between the four of us, we should be able to bring back a good deal of supplies, if only the stuff that's hard to get these days."

Lia nodded. "Exactly. Might shut Avenicci up too. And frankly, I want to take a look at the damage a dragon can do to a small town."

The huscarl grinned. "You know how to give us an excuse to get away for a couple days. I don't suppose you know how to kill a dragon?"

"Permanently, you need the Dragonborn. Otherwise, bring him down with arrows and my Sparks spell – Shouting is a form of magicka use – and then hack him to pieces before burying them. And hope Alduin doesn't wake him back up in the next few days."

"Can do." Skyrim Nords somehow managed to combine fatalistic pessimism and fatally courageous optimism. Lia was almost impressed at the combination.

"Good. You go present this idea to your uncle and I'll see what supplies we can rustle up." Lia smiled at Lydia. "I know more about roughing it than you might think."

"I figured you did." Lydia returned the smile and headed upstairs.

Lia smoothed down her skirt and went to the kitchen. Time to brew what potions she could from the herbs and spices available.