Falion,

I send this letter to you in hopes you can help from afar.

My wife is a vampire, and seeks a cure. However, she is in a position where she cannot leave Whiterun and speak with you of the matter herself.

"You're Dragonborn," Adalla said, staring at Mia.

"Not by choice."

"You're Dragonborn."

"Is this gonna be a thing now?" Mia sighed.

"You're-"

"Yes, I'm Dragonborn!" Mia snapped angrily, voice rising to a shout. Adalla had never heard Mia shout before - and suddenly understood why: she could feel ripples of power wash over her as Mia yelled. "So what?! I sure as hell didn't ask fer this, and it sure ain't all it's cracked up t'be! I wish ya'd just let it go!"

"Why didn't you tell-"

"What's it matter?" Mia snapped. "Alduin's done fer, slain by the other Dragonborn the rest of Skyrim an' their mothers knows 'bout. Me bein' Dragonborn's not a big deal, is it?"

"I..." Adalla sighed softly. "I'm sorry. I can tell it's a touchy subject for you." She thought for a moment longer. "When did you find out you were...?"

"While ago." Mia was quite dismissive of the matter.

"The Greybeards never summoned you?"

"Maybe they did. Maybe they summoned me an' the other Dragonborn git what saved Tamriel from Alduin, I dunno. Either way, I weren't interested, an' still ain't. Them Greybeards can go suck-"

Adalla raised a hand to cut her off. "I get it, I get it." Another moment of thought, and... "Did you know the other Dragonborn?"

"Why else ya think I called him a 'git'? Bastard let it get to him. Made it sound like he were the 'chosen one', the 'one savior of Skyrim', blah blah blah. Definitely self-centered and arrogant. Hated his guts. Only reason I didn't kill him meself was 'cause I suspected if I did, then it'd be up t'me to take down Alduin. I didn't wanna; figured I'd let the git do it."

Adalla rubbed her temples gently. "It's just..." She sighed softly. "Do... do you know any Shouts?"

Mia glared at the Altmer. "This is gonna be a thing now, ain't it?"

"I-I'm just curious! I've obviously never met a Dragonborn before, only heard the stories!" Adalla protested.

The woman gave a resigned sigh. "...I don't know full Shouts," she murmured. "The git were all too happy t'demonstrate some 'Relentless Force' Shout, or somethin' like that... don't know, don't care. I know a couple, though. Ice Shouts, stuff like that. They're helpful in a pinch, but mostly, I don't need 'em."

"I'm sure they're more useful than-"

"We just killed a dragon without me needin' t'Shout," Mia responded tersely. "I'm pretty sure I don't need 'em most of the time."

Adalla looked at the dragon's skeleton. "...Um..."

"If it's another question 'bout me being Dragonborn, kindly stuff it," Mia snapped. "It don't matter what I am. 'Sides, ya don't see me gettin' on yer case 'bout what y'are, do ya?"

The elf blinked. "What are you-"

"I'ma start off by sayin' I hate the Thalmor, and have made it a point t'kill any elf - barrin' ya - what wears the robes or acts all high 'n' mighty. That bein' said, I know the things t'look for when it comes to identifyin' 'elf' from 'Thalmor'. Ya wanna know the real reason I kept ya locked up in that cell?"

Adalla swallowed hard. "I... would, yes."

"I was trying t'figure out whether or not ya were like the rest of them damn Thalmor pricks I've killed without thought till then. Yer armor, yer shield, yer blade... the way you talked t'me, the things ya had t'say... I've known ya were Thalmor, Adalla. Fer me, was only a matter of 'when will I be killin' ya?'"

"But you didn't. Why not?"

"'Cause ya ain't like the rest of them pricks. Ya may have been Thalmor, but ya definitely don't associate yerself with 'em anymore. When it came time t'leave Uttering Hills, ya had no problems travelin' with me... when ya could have gone back t'yer precious little Embassy and reported back in."

The mer didn't respond.

"Now then, how's this tie in with me bein' Dragonborn? It don't, but it does tie in with all these annoyin' questions ya keep asking. How would ya like it if I asked ya question after gods-damned annoying question 'bout the Thalmor?"

"I... think I'd ask you to leave it be," she answered tentatively.

"And how's it any different from ya bugging the shit outta me 'bout bein' Dragonborn?" Mia finished, crossing her arms. "I didn't ask fer this, Adalla. If I had a choice, I wouldn't be Dragonborn. Soon as people learn I'm Dragonborn, their view of me changes. They no longer see me fer who I am, but instead, fer what I can be t'Skyrim and Tamriel. I hate it. I just... I wanna be a normal woman, y'know? Tied down by nothin'. Free t'do what I want, when I want. No one t'answer ta." She gave Mia a stern look. "Yer no different in that regard, so why can't ya seem t'understand me?"

"But I..." Adalla stopped and thought about it. She had agreed to travel with Mia instead of returning to her mission. She had even considered herself truly free for the first time in years. She looked down at her feet. "...I'm sorry, Mia. I just... the stories and all..."

The woman sighed softly. "No harm done, I guess. Just leave it be, will ya? The less I'm reminded I'm Dragonborn, the better I feel." She took a step toward Adalla. "Most people I've known feel intimidated when they learn I'm Dragonborn, and either get annoyin' with questions or abandon me." She wrapped her arms around Adalla in a small hug. "Didn't want ya t'be either one. Yer probably the best friend I've had in me life. I just... well, yeah."

The high elf blinked at the sudden hug, and gasped lightly. At Mia's words, though, she suddenly understood, and hugged her in return. "You won't, Mia. I'm sorry I nearly became the first example. I won't mention it again, I promise," she murmured.

Mia squeezed her gently in her arms, then let go, smiling softly at Adalla. "Thanks. Fer everything." She gestured to the road west. "Well... Nightgate ain't gonna come t'us, eh? C'mon, let's leave this here dragon's skelly be, afore anyone tries t'associate us with its death."

"There it is," Irileth said, pointing at the building that came into view. "The Nightgate Inn. Good timing, too; it's getting colder out already."

Runael nodded, stepping past Irileth. "Then we'll stay here the night, and set off for the lich's ruin in the morning - as you suggested." She turned back to Irileth and gestured for her to follow. "I have to say, though, it's really sort of... strange. Why is there an inn out in the middle of nowhere?"

The Dunmer chuckled softly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were ungrateful for it."

"Oh, I'm most certainly not, so you have that right," Runael agreed, "but that doesn't make it any less peculiar. I don't imagine they get a lot of business out this way. Makes me wonder how they afford to stay open."

"I've heard rumors." Irileth was following Runael now. "One rumor holds that there's a wealthy Orc who basically lives at the Inn. Pays well for his room. No one knows who he is or what he does, though, to have such wealth."

"A wealthy Orc." Runael sounded amused.

"I didn't say it made perfect sense," the Housecarl said defensively.

The Arch-Mage chuckled at this. "I suppose not."

"Another rumor holds that the Nightgate Inn is used as a meeting place for shady people, and that they pay the owner very well so that he doesn't ask questions. I think it's rubbish, personally."

Runael rolled her eyes. "Lovely. So if there's a shred of truth to that one, we may have a confrontation on our hands with said 'shady people'."

"Only if you're not careful."

"Me?" The high elf blinked, realizing she'd been singled out.

"I'd rather keep a low profile if that one's true. Much better to pretend I'm oblivious than to risk setting myself up for death - and possibly in my sleep, at that. Of course, it all depends on what they'd be up to... but that's another matter altogether." She grinned at Runael. "Of course, you were the one who assumed we'd have a confrontation."

The Altmer had no reply to this one, other than to shake her head with a small smile at her lips.

"Of course, they're called rumors because there's been no proof behind them. Maybe there is proof positive of one or the other; I don't know. We never had a lot of people come to Whiterun from the Nightgate Inn, so we only have rumors."

They stopped at the building's exterior. "...So where's the front door?" Runael asked, frowning.

"Other side, I'd guess. I've never been here before." Irileth took the lead, following the faintly worn path leading around the building's left side. Soon enough, both mer were looking at the sign that identified the place as the Nightgate Inn, and were looking at the entrance.

"That makes no sense," Runael muttered. "Why is the door on the other side...?"

"As long as there is a door, why would it matter?" Irileth sighed. Her hand rested upon the door handle. "I'm starting to think you're nothing but complaints."

"It's cold, I'm hungry, and I think I just heard a wolf growl," Runael grumbled.

"All complaints," Irileth mused, opening the door.

"Oh, shut it." Runael followed Irileth inside. "I know this trip was my idea, but-" She froze suddenly, eyes wide as she stared inside.

"Runael?" Irileth asked, looking back. She glanced at the trio seated by the fire, then at Runael, and shook her head. "It was just a rumor," she muttered, pulling the Arch-Mage inside and closing the door behind her.

"N-no, that's not..." The elf's voice trailed off.

"Are you trying to tell me, En'zhar, that we'll have to stop in Windhelm on the way to Winterhold?" Elenwen asked, sounding as though the very idea was the rough equivalent of suicide.

"Not so much 'we' as 'you'," he said. "We - that is, Najati and I - are not welcome inside of cities most of the time... and if we are allowed inside, we are under constant supervision. Normally, we would stay with the Khajiit caravans that stay outside of the city walls, but... well, Ma'dran's caravan was recently met with an unfortunate accident, I hear."

"I won't do it," Elenwen protested. "Those brutes know who I am. I'd be lucky to survive the trip to the inn, and from what I understand, that's just inside the gates... never mind an evening in hostile territory."

"You're not with the Thalmor anymore," he reminded her.

"They don't know that," Elenwen retorted.

Najati chuckled softly. "The great Elenwen is scared of a few natives."

The high elf shot the female Khajiit a glare. "I am not scared, I am simply concerned for my well-being," she snapped in response. "Besides, where are you two going to stay?"

"We'll figure something out," En'zhar said dismissively.

Elenwen leaned back in her seat, eyes on the roaring fire before them. They had made good time reaching the Nightgate Inn, and had already paid for beds for the evening. They'd also eaten, and Elenwen had been quite content with their situation... until En'zhar had told her about their planned visit to Windhelm. "There must be another option..." she murmured.

"We could always travel a bit further south to Kynesgrove, but considering that takes us away from Winterhold, rather than toward it..." En'zhar shrugged. "In the scheme of roads, Windhelm is already pretty out of the way... but we're ill-equipped to stay the night outside, thanks to a certain group of bandits. If we want to talk 'roads', this inn is the most convenient place to stay on the road to Winterhold."

"I hate Skyrim," Elenwen grumbled under her breath.

Najati and En'zhar exchanged amused glances. "Try living here after living in the much warmer climate of-" Najati began.

She was cut off as the door to the inn opened. A Dunmer stepped inside, talking with someone else... someone behind her. Najati, En'zhar and Elenwen all looked at the Dunmer - Elenwen with a glare for letting in the cold - as she made room for her traveling companion.

The one who followed the Dunmer inside made Elenwen's breath catch in her throat and erased all thought from her mind. The Altmer who followed the Dunmer inside turned her own gaze to the trio. A bizarre silence settled between all of them, though the Dunmer took steps to close the door and keep the heat indoors. A few words were murmured between Dunmer and Altmer.

Elenwen finally found her voice again. "Runael," she murmured, eyes gazing upon the Altmer. Her hair was hidden by the hood, but there was no mistaking Runael's face... not for Elenwen.

En'zhar's brows were raised in surprise. "Runael," he called, waving her over. "What are the odds of meeting you here? Come, join us - you must be cold."

Elenwen was still in a daze as the door was wrenched open. Runael dashed outside without a moment's hesitation, and the door closed behind her. The Dunmer - Irileth, Elenwen realized, recognizing her from the meeting at High Hrothgar - shot Elenwen a glare, then followed Runael outside.

"...Well, that was as plain a 'no' as any," En'zhar mused.

"I'm not going back in there," Runael declared upon seeing Irileth.

"I wasn't going to tell you to."

"Why is she in there?" the Arch-Mage continued, glancing over her shoulder at the door.

"Don't know."

Runael began to pace rapidly, grumbling under her breath. Irileth had to admit, she found it a bit funny. "What should we do? How far away is the ruin?"

"Far enough that we risk freezing out here overnight," was the Dunmer's reply. "Like it or not, the Nightgate Inn is the best place for us to stay until morning."

"But..." Runael shot another look at the door. "...Of all people, why did she have to be there...?"

"Why do you seem to afraid of-"

"Because she's Thalmor, and I defected!" Runael hissed. "Or did you forget that that was the reason you punched me?!"

Irileth blinked as the realization dawned on her. "Oh, no..."

"I may already be in trouble... she already saw me, she... gods, why now...?"

"Runael?"

A new voice sounded then, one tinged with recognition and disbelief. It wasn't a voice Irileth had ever heard before, but Runael seemed to recognize it. "I..."

"Runael, it is you!" Footsteps crunched through the snow, and Irileth watched as another Altmer in elven armor hugged the Arch-Mage, laughing lightly. Behind the newcomer was a woman with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, her brows raised in surprise.

"A-Adalla? Wh-what are...?" All at once, Runael's hands reached up and shoved the elf named Adalla away. "Oh no, this is about- gods, of all days, why is it today that the Thalmor catch me...?"

Adalla looked confused at Runael's reaction. "I... what? Oh!" She realized then what Runael was talking about. "Um... things have changed. It's... it's a long story." She smiled sheepishly. "I had been tasked with looking for you by Elenwen, but-"

"Why?" The question caught Adalla off-guard.

"Be... because she wanted you to come back? She was hoping you'd change your mind and come back."

It was Runael's turn to look confused. "She... did? You mean she didn't want me to be..."

Adalla shook her head. "No. She wanted you back, not arrested or dead." She gave a small smile. "I did, too... at least, until recent developments sort of... well." She gestured to Mia. "Runael, this is Mia, my friend. Mia, this is Runael, and..." She looked at the Dunmer with Runael. "...I'm not sure who...?"

Runael shook her head. "Adalla, Mia, this is Irileth... Housecarl of Balgruuf of Whiterun. Irileth, Adalla and... Mia, I suppose."

Adalla's eyes widened at the name. "W-wait! I thought you were under house arrest with-"

"Just as you said, Thalmor, things have changed," Irileth growled.

"I-I'm not with the Thalmor anymore!" Adalla protested. "I was left for dead, and Mia saved me! Since then, I've been living as I choose!"

Runael blinked. "You may not want to go inside, then. Elenwen's in there."

Adalla gaped at her. "Wh-what...? Why is she out here-"

"Well, she's with E, so I don't know."

"E... E..." Adalla's eyes narrowed dangerously. "He was behind the assassin that left me for dead." She turned her attention to the door. "Excuse me; I have someone to get revenge on."

"Adalla, wait." Runael seized her hand to keep her from rushing off. "Is it worth risking punishment by Elenwen's hand?"

She didn't have an answer. On the one hand, she figured it would be worth it... but on the other, she didn't want to have that confrontation. "Ugh..." She relaxed. "Never mind. He's not worth it."

Mia coughed, but it sounded more like a brief laugh than an actual cough.

"So... what brings you out here, Runael? It's been... months now. I've missed you."

"College business. What about you and Mira?"

"Mia," the woman corrected her.

"We just left Uttering Hills, to the east. There's a cave with a small ruin inside; that's where she and I were staying. We left because bandits were eyeing it." She shrugged lightly. "Where we're going from here... I don't know. Wherever we choose, I suppose."

Runael smiled at these words. "Sounds like you're enjoying your new life."

"Oh, I am. How about you, with the College?"

"Well, I'm not there, so make of that what you will," she mused. "That said, as I said, I'm out and about on College business. I just can't stand the thought of being cooped up there non-stop."

Adalla nodded at this. "Right. Can't say I blame you."

Silence settled between them.

"So what now?" Irileth asked. "None of us want to go inside, but there's nowhere else nearby that's ideal to spend the night."

"Adalla and I will be fine fer the evenin'," Mia saiid, tapping the pack at her back. "Got us a tent we can pitch. We just thought Nightgate would be a good idea fer the evenin', is all."

"Have room enough for two more?" Runael asked, sounding hopeful.

"'Fraid not," Mia said with a sigh.

Adalla looked at the inn door once again. "...Runael. We both know a confrontation with Elenwen is inevitable. We've both defected; she knows you have. The sooner we get this over with, the better. Don't worry: I've got your back if she tries anything."

"That's... not comforting, Adalla, to know you're worried she'll try something... but thanks." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "...You're right. The sooner, the better. I can't imagine a warmer place anyway... so I guess tonight's the night for confrontation..."

"I have your back, too," Irileth said, stepping forward.

"Guess I do," Mia murmured. "I ain't got nothin' personal with Elenwen, but I do hate the Thalmor, so there's that."

"So we're all going inside?" Adalla asked, looking at Mia, then Irileth, and finally at Runael.

The Arch-Mage nodded. "Yes. I'd prefer not to, but no time like the present to get this over with."

"I don't know who you think you are, ordering my guards around," the Regent snapped as she reached the bottom of the stairs, "but know that I already disapprove of-" She froze as she spotted the mer. Very, very slowly, her lips parted into a smile. "Thellias," she exclaimed, dashing toward him.

He laughed softly as she rushed toward him, and hugged her gently. "Had I known you were Regent, I'd have been less demanding," he mused. "It's been quite some time, my friend."

"Too long, Thellias, too long," she agreed. "What brings you to Skyrim?"

"Elenwen's ineptitude. I've been tasked with cleaning up her mess; I entrusted that task to my apprentice, and am operating on a tip that En'zhar is hiding out in Skyrim."

The Regent blinked. "Shouldn't you be retired?" she asked incredulously.

Thellias set his ebony helm down upon the nearest table, then picked up a chair and carried it up the stairs. He set it down in front of the throne, then sat down with a small groan. "Don't get me started on that," he said with a sigh.

She sat upon the throne and tilted her head to one side. "I'll risk it. What happened?"

A.N. - I gone and done it again. What is it about Sunday nights that makes me want to write more...?

I think I ultimately wanted to set the stage for the reunion that's taking place/about to take place. I'll get the next chapter out soon.

-Spiritslayer