The music was loud that night, and the patrons were well beyond their usual level of drunkenness and mischief. The fire roared to life many hours before, continuously stoked by the kitchen staff in back as they made their way round with food and drinks ordered minutes, even hours, beforehand. If they were late, the guests didn't seem to mind, all were too busy listening to the minstrel strum his lute and sing his wistful songs of the lands he travelled.

Among all this merriment, the Bannered Mare was making much coin, for where else would drunken travellers find rest, if not with the women of Whiterun who offer their services for the small payments the men there offered.

All was joyful. Even Hulda at the bar wore a smile on her face.

In the farthest corner from all the commotion sat two, dark figures. A man, and a woman. Though he drank, he bore no joy in his endless depths called eyes, and she, though covered from head to toe and you could not see her face, seemed nervous and often found herself reaching for the small dagger at her side.

None there paid them much mind. To them, nothing could ruin such a wondrous evening, not even the foreboding presence of the duo.

"Do you truly think it wise to meet here? In Whiterun? The fact that it is a city filled with others who may overhear us is one reason why I would have chosen some place more private." Ilumé said in a hushed tone as her eyes darted around them. Both had arrived at the inn separately, neither willing to trust the other as of yet as a travel companion. Her mare was tethered not far from Honningbrew Meadery, well away from prying eyes, in case she should need to make a quick escape. "As for another reason, the one who took the horn of Jurgen Windcaller might happen upon us here. We should be more careful. There are those about who would want to use you and your powers to do evil things, unspeakable things."

"And how do I know you aren't one of 'em?" he spat, not nearly as quietly as she. His drink dripped from his beard, and as he wiped the excess away he let out a great, bellowing belch that seemed to please him. He patted his stomach and let out a sniffle before taking another swig of his mead. He certainly was not the most elegant creature, that was for sure. But Ilumé knew that it didn't matter whether he didn't wash his hands before every meal, or take any regular baths as most seemed to do. He was important, he was key to her survival, and she would have to learn to look past all that in order to continue living. "This is the perfect place for a meeting between two people who don't know each other very well. These people won't bother us, but they will know who to look for should something happen to either of us. Now, will ye take your hood down, enjoy the fire, the food, and the rich aromas from the cooking fire."

She starred at their surroundings a moment, her lips pursed from worry. "I can't do that. Though you may not be overly taken by my appearance, others have been, and I do not need any more attention drawn to me than is necessary."

He shrugged before biting into the mutton that had been placed before him on the table. His big, brute hands made the large chunk of meat appear small, and Ilumé stared at him a moment, wondering if having brought herself to his attention had been such a good idea to begin with. In a normal fight, he would surely overpower her. His arms were nearly thrice as thick as hers, and his legs the size of half-grown trees. He was as violent as they come, she had observed this when he entered the inn, all had cowered away from him until he had taken his seat in the back. A few of the better armoured guards seemed to wince in recollection of boughs they had taken with him in the past. Some even still nursed old wounds.

An arrow in the knee was something that these men would have gladly given their injuries for in exchange.

"As I'm sure ye've had happen elsewhere. Shouldn't ye be used to it by now?" he chewed his morsel thoroughly before spitting a bone out on the floor and taking another bite. She had yet to touch her food, and knew she probably wouldn't. The smells of the cooking fire overwhelmed her senses and turned her stomach. Not that they were disgusting scents, nor would the food more than likely taste bad. She was just used to eating certain delicacies the Nords would not be able to bring her. "I mean, there can't be many Falmer who haven't found themselves in such an ugly state as most 'ave. "

"That isn't the point here Brynjar," she said with a roll of her eyes. She had to hold back a small grin as he jumped at the sound of his name. It appeared that he had not expected her to remember it. Which, didn't surprise her with the way her half-blooded cousins had been treating his people as of late. To them he was probably known as "maggot", "nord", "pale skin", "snow skeever", or some other form of derogatory term. Which, posed a question. "Are you involved with the Sons and Daughters of Skyrim? The Stormcloak Rebellion?"

Brynjar paused a moment, staring at her from over the top of his ale mug. "Aye, in a way I s'pose I am. What is it of your concern elf?"

"I just wondered if we would be able to get along at all. Your Stormcloaks seem to have a bias against all elves from what I've gathered. Isn't that right?"

Brynjar put his mug down and stared at her from under furrowed brows of anger. She stared back, her gaze unwavering, and her eyes did not blink more than a handful of times during the exchange. She would not be made to look like a coward by looking away, nor would she give him the satisfaction of having a stronger will than she. "Ye have no idea what the Stormcloaks think. Aye, some may have it out for all the likes of your kin. But not all. I am not a member, no. But tha' does not mean I have it out for all elves. Those of the Bosmer, Thalmor, Altmer, Dunmer or even the dregs of the underground cities tha' have come to be called Falmer, who have not done wrong to any other creature is any friend of mine. Those who have wronged my kin or the kin of any other races will have made an enemy with myself. They may not realize it, but I view all with clear eyes and clear conscious. Do not think otherwise or we shall have a bit of a problem."

"Understood." She turned her head then, to look out the nearby stained glass window. The night had fallen quickly over the town, winter was closing in fast, and she could not help but feel a chill as she drifted off into her thoughts. "Brynjar there is much we have to learn about each other. I wish to teach you all that I know, and all that I can. But, we both know you have many other priorities, and many other, more important, things will pop up in the near future. You may not yet be ready to learn what I have to teach. Or, you may not want to learn. That is what I am here to find out. If you are ready. As well as answer any questions you may have."

"Who are you?"

She stopped, a moment, and starred at the brute before her. She was certain she had already discussed this with him. She distinctively remembered giving him her name. Or, at least, she thought she had. "I've already told you. My name is Ilumé." Her response did not seem to faze him. He merely shook his head and leaned in closer, his eyes holding hers, making it impossible to look away.

"Nay, I mean, who are you? Really? Falmer haven't been seen in who knows how many lifetimes. You've never been seen around these parts by any I've talked to. And, you seem to think to know all there is about the dragonborn. So, I will ask you again. Who. Are. You?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Ilumé said slowly. She felt he could see right through her, but his eyes, searching hers, seemed convinced that she was telling the truth, even if his gut was telling him otherwise. "I am who I say I am. Not all of my kin are dead or deranged. Most have long since gone into hiding, and would love to stay that way if possible. But, if you are so sure I am truly lying to you then I will gladly take you to them, to have them prove I am who I say I am."

Brynjar shook his head, and with a sigh, leaned back in his chair. "Alright, alright. I believe ya." He folded his arms across his chest. "But you still have to prove to me you've no hidden agenda. Should we be spending more time together I need to know if you can truly be trusted."

"And how can I do that?" she asked with an amused sparkle in her ice blue eyes.

"Prove you have what it takes to last in a battle," he said without taking his eyes off her. "With a dragon."