Maramel, the priest at the Temple of Mara, was delighted when Arianna and Argis approached him, hand in hand, and asked if they could be married. He congratulated them heartily and set the wedding for the following day.

Outside the Temple, Argis kissed her cheek lightly. " I have some things to do," he said. "I'll see you here later." He smiled his sweet smile. "I can't wait."

Arianna nodded and watched him walk away towards the market. Deciding that she would go and see Hofgrir at the stables and invite him to be a witness, Arianna walked towards the gate. The guard looked at her steadily for a long moment and seemed on the verge of speaking as he opened the gates.

Outside, six Stormcloak soldiers stood in a semi-circle.

"Dragonborn." One stepped forward. "We are under orders to escort you to Windhelm."

"Ulfric," she spat, angrily as the men surrounded her. "I don't want to go to Windhelm," she objected wondering if it was worth trying to run but she was unarmed and clothed only in a light dress.

"We must insist." The speaker wore the uniform of an officer.

Arianna felt hands on her arms that were strangely gentle as her wrists were bound tightly behind her back. A gag was fitted around her face and she was reminded of the first time she had seen Ulfric, bound and gagged, on the cart to Helgen.

One of the soldiers peeled off and returned with one of the sturdy horses from the stable.

The officer turned to the two guards at the gate. "You will say nothing of this to anyone. Jarl Ulfric's orders. Do you understand?" he said softly. Arianna saw them glance at each other, unease plain on both faces, before they nodded and she was pushed up into the saddle and the horse led away.

It was only a few hours to Windhelm and they arrived as night was falling. Arianna's mind was full of Argis, he would be getting ready to go to the Temple and she wouldn't be there. Her heart was breaking at the thought.

The little company attracted more than a few curious stares and whispers of "Dragonborn" as she was marched through the run-down, dirty city to the palace. Arianna held her head high, kept her face impassive as rage coursed through her body.

She was taken straight to the dungeons and a cell obviously prepared for her as it had a plate of fresh food, a bottle of wine and clean blankets atop the straw on the floor. The officer carefully undid her hands and untied the gag.

"I am sorry, my Lady," he murmured as he backed out of the cell and the door slammed with a metallic clang and the key turned in the lock.

Arianna looked around her; the cell was small and had one tiny opening high in one wall. She had never been locked up in jail before and the experience was proving to be unpleasant. She sank down onto the straw and sat, her arms loosely clasped around her knees and waited. She supposed that someone would come eventually.

It was hours later; the tiny square of sky visible from the high window had faded from black to the dark blue of near dawn and was studded with stars. Argis would be waiting for her, the thought caused her eyes to prickle with tears.

There were footsteps along the passage outside and Arianna heard the cell door unlock and open. She kept her face down, refusing to look at whoever was coming.

"On your feet, Dragonborn." It was Galmar. Strange, she had half expected Ulfric. "I won't tell you again." His voice was rougher than usual.

Arianna slowly lifted her head. "Why am I here?" she asked and saw a flicker of unease on the old general's face.

"Ulfric's orders," he answered, shortly. "He wants to see you. Come on now, girl."

"Isn't he afraid that I'll shout the place to pieces?"

Galmar strode across the cell and, gripping her upper arm tightly, yanked her to her feet. He spun her and bound her hands securely behind her back and gagged her. She was marched through the palace to the private quarters and pushed roughly through a door, which slammed behind her.

Arianna glanced around; a huge bed covered in a blood-red cover dominated the room. A fire blazed in an ornate hearth on one wall and two comfortable looking chairs were set in front of it.

"Good morning, Dragonborn, I hope you slept well." Ulfric's silky voice came from one of the chairs. "You disobeyed a direct order, I knew you would. That's why I sent the men to Riften to bring you back." He rose to his feet and turned to face her, his eyebrows lifting at her attire. "Nice dress," he remarked, his gaze sweeping down her body.

Arianna stood, ram-rod straight, her eyes fixed on the wall as he moved behind her, his thick fingers undoing the leather strips binding her wrists.

"There are guards outside the door. If they hear anything untoward like, oh I don't know, your Thu'um for instance, they are under orders to kill you." The gag was dragged roughly from her mouth and tossed aside as he moved in front of her.

"They can try," she spat, unable to stop herself.

Ulfric's face broke into a wide smile. "Ah, that's my girl."

"I am not your girl."

"No." He laughed, a sudden chilling burst of sound, "A Housecarl, Dragonborn. Could you really do no better than him?"

Arianna's heart lurched. He would be waiting for her. Her beautiful, trusting, caring man.

Ulfric seemed to see something in her face. "You love him," he whispered.

"He's a better man than you will ever be," she answered, her voice as soft as Ulfric's had been, and watched his face crease with anger.

His hand lifted and he slapped her hard across the face, his fingers catching the livid, already painful bruise on her cheek. Arianna sucked in a sharp breath but made no other sound, which just seemed to enrage him further. She doubled over, panting in pain, as his fist drove into her stomach and then his other hand delivered a ringing slap to the side of her head that sent her sprawling onto the floor.

"Black and blue, Dragonborn," he reminded her, bending over her, his fist winding into her hair and jerking her head up.

"A woman-beater," she sneered. "Why am I not surprised?" She could take a beating, had done so before and it was, quite frankly, preferable to some of the alternatives. She was also sure that it wouldn't hurt as much as the thought of Argis waiting at the Temple and her not showing up.

"I will teach you respect," he hissed, his fingers tightened painfully in her hair.

"Yes. Beating the hell out of me will really help your cause," she answered, caustically,

"Can we not be civil to each other?" His voice smoothed out as his fingers stroked the side of her face. Arianna jerked her head back, her hair pulling in his fist. "A pity," he murmured, delivering another stinging slap.

Arianna curled into a ball, her arms wrapped protectively around her head as blows rained down on her body. The only sounds in the room were the repetitive smack of his fists and his breathing became harshly laboured as he beat her.

Eventually, she had no idea how long, he seized her arms and yanked them roughly from her face. "You will submit to me. I am your king," he hissed. His face was red with effort as he dragged her onto her knees by her hair and pulled her across the floor to the door which he threw open. "Take her back to the cell," he instructed.

Arianna was hauled back to the jail, hanging limp between the two guards that carried her.

The day crawled, she curled her bruised body up in a tight ball in the straw and found it impossible to sleep, all she could think about was Argis. She wondered how long he would wait for her.

Arianna didn't bother moving when the lock clicked and the cell door swung open, she heard the sound of the straw rustling as someone knelt beside her body and felt fingers brush the hair from her face.

"Ari?" It was a hoarse whisper but she recognised the voice. She opened her eyes and slowly unfurled her body to look up into a confused pair of blue eyes. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath when he saw the bruises on her face. "What? What are you doing here?"

Arianna's eyes filled with tears as she stared up at Ralof, the man she had escaped Helgen with, the man who had backed her up in countless skirmishes with the Imperials and one of the few people she considered a friend.

"Hey now." He carefully slid his arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit up. "Don't cry. What has happened? What are you doing here?"

"I've done nothing."

"Then..."

"I fell in love, Ralof. I was supposed to be married today." Her voice caught as tears spilled down her face, the salt stinging the cut on her cheek.

Ralof wrapped an awkward arm around her and held her close as she sobbed. "It's alright," he murmured. "Tell me what happened."

"Ulfric sent a squad of soldiers to Riften to bring me here." Her body shook violently against Ralof's. "He won't know what happened. Argis will think that I've jilted him. That I don't love him." The words spilled out of her in a hiccupping rush.

"Why would Ulfric-"

"He wants an alliance." She laughed bitterly through her tears. "And that wouldn't be best served with me being a married woman."

"Oh!" There was a wealth of understanding in the one word. "I see. Did Ulfric beat you?"

Arianna nodded miserably and then frowned. "Wait. How did you know I was even here?"

"Galmar." Ralof smiled grimly. "I did wonder why he was so insistent that I come down here to see a prisoner." He thought for a long moment, his blue eyes considering. "This is what is going to happen," he said at last. Arianna felt something like hope swell in her chest. "I'm going to leave now. I'll leave the door unlocked. Turn left out of the cell and keep going along that passage." He drew a lockpick out from somewhere in his armour and pressed it into her suddenly trembling fingers. "There's a door at the end that leads straight out onto the dock. Don't be seen, Ari. Get the carriage back to Riften and find your man. You might make it in time."

"You're going to get in so much trouble," she breathed, her heart beginning to race at the thought of getting away.

Ralof shrugged. "You're expected to escape, you're the Dragonborn. We will have no idea how it happened." He pressed his lips briefly to her forehead. "Be safe, my friend," he whispered, "and don't come back to Windhelm any time soon." He got slowly to his feet and opened the cell door. "Give it a few minutes. Take this." He tossed her a coin purse which Arianna caught neatly in one hand.

The door shut and Arianna heard the jangle of the key in the lock but no click and Ralof's footfall retreating up the passage. She heaved a huge, shuddering breath and stood up, wincing at the ache that seemed to cover her whole body. Going to the basin of cold water in one corner of the cell, she ran a washrag lightly over her face and combed through her hair as best she could with her fingers.

Once she judged enough time had passed, she carefully eased the door open and slipped silently out into the dimly lit stone passageway. Closing the door behind her, she locked it and pocketed the heavy iron key. She dropped into sneak and, hugging the damp wall, crept towards the door at the end.

Her hands were shaking as she inserted the slender pick into the keyhole and tested it carefully. It was a poor lock and she found the point where it would give easily. She held her breath and slowly rotated the pick. With a faint click, the lock gave and she pushed open the heavy door.

The dock was clear of people. She took the few steps to the low wall and dived cleanly into the water, the cold driving the breath from her mouth in a rush. She surfaced about half way across, half expecting to hear sounds that would indicate her escape had not gone unnoticed but it was still eerily quiet, as if the guards had melted away and let her flee. She reached into her pocket, found the key to her cell and let it fall from her fingers onto the riverbed.

She was shivering violently when her feet met the incline onto the bank and she emerged into the chill night air. She wrung the water from her dress and hair as best she could and jogged up the hill towards the stables, praying that the carriage would be there.

It was. The driver eyed her soaked form curiously as she approached.

"I want to hire your carriage," she gasped.

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"Riften."

"Climb in back and we'll be off." He studied her for a long moment. "There's a blanket under the seat," he added.