For all her crimes committed in Skyrim, Athene had spent very little time in jail. The odd afternoon for pickpocketing, and one overnight when she'd started a bar brawl that spilled onto the street. She'd heard tales told in pubs across the country by bragging thieves that had bounties in every hold, who knew the inside of each capital's jail as if the cells were a second home. But she'd never understood why it was anything to brag about. As far as she was concerned, jail meant you'd failed.
More than that, it was a hint of an ending. It took little time locked in a cage for Athene to realize how much she needed her freedom. It took little time before she was desperate for a glimpse of sky.
And now, after all she'd done, which included the murder of the Emperor that she'd gotten away with, she was to be jailed for treason… because of an axe.
And she was to be jailed by people who committed treason every day. Rebels. Oh, the whole thing was hilarious.
Except not.
She could have run, but she'd been stunned and tired. If the Stormcloaks wanted her in Windhelm, and she'd been on her way to Windhelm to be a Stormcloak, it made sense to her that she'd go willingly. The alternative was exile from the place she needed to be to complete her work. So she was marched back to Ulfric's capital and escorted directly to the Palace of the Kings, passing a sorry and sympathetic looking Silda, the beggar Athene had befriended by donating a coin here and there. No one else was around, owing to the early hour they arrived and the weather that made the air seem ice.
The jail was on a level below the main hall where Ulfric held court. As they descended Athene felt her breath quicken. She fought her panic. She heard the chatter of guards in the barracks, recognizing a few voices. Surely people who would speak for her and understand what she'd done. Had Longs-for-Stars survived the battle for Whiterun? Was that battle over? It sounded so. The voices were too cheerful and loud for defeat. She asked her escorts and they forgot themselves a minute, describing glorious battle until they arrived at her cell. Then the leader seemed embarrassed and said she'd have to speak to Galmar for details.
Now there was an ugly prospect.
Ulfric's second in command arrived after noon, while Athene was still pushing her lunch around her plate. It was a greasy meat and some soft bread to soak up the juices, and it wasn't bad, but her stomach recoiled. She didn't want to eat, she wanted answers, and she wanted her freedom.
"Well, elf?" the Nord said. "Should I be surprised?"
"Tell me why I'm in here."
Galmar scowled at her and crossed his arms over his big chest. "You're a traitor. You know that."
"The guards you sent to pick me up mentioned that, yet I still have no idea why."
"Don't play stupid. You were given a mission by Jarl Ulfric himself, the true High King, and you betrayed him."
"Now it sounds like you're playing stupid. Because I did what Ulfric told me to do, I delivered his axe, and I made sure it returned here. I know it did because last I heard we'd taken Whiterun."
"We? No! No thanks to you!" He came right up to the cell and Athene was glad she was already a few steps back. He leaned as far as he could between the iron bars and bared his teeth. "You let your brothers and sisters fight for you, elf. You pledged yourself to Skyrim and when it counted you spared your own blood for the sake of others. You are a coward and you deserve a coward's death."
"How many?" said Athene.
"What did you say?"
"How many did we lose?" There were a few faces she needed to see. A few soldiers she would surely miss, and though she didn't count herself liable the way Galmar did, she would mourn them if she had to. And she would regret it if the others told her anyone had died for her. She had never wanted that. She sighed. "Just tell me how many I killed, if you're so determined I killed him."
He blustered and huffed, but he wasn't answering her question, so Athene crossed her own arms and waited.
"You are not a soldier," he finally said. "But not everyone agrees that you are a traitor. So I'm giving you one more chance to show your heart."
"Is this it? Because there's not much I can show from here."
"Shut up, elf. Listen to me. There's another traitor in Markarth. The steward, Raerek. We know he worships Talos, and yet he sits beside his Empire-hugging Jarl and lets the Thalmor stride around the keep. He is the worst sort of man, a coward, like you. You will find evidence of this and blackmail him to help us."
She ignored all the slights and went to the meat of the request. "You trust me with this? After I accidentally let someone else carry an axe a few miles?"
"I trust you with this because if you fail you'll be torn apart by those Thalmor, and I won't have to worry about your loyalty ever again."
That made sense. "Fine. Let me out."
He forced a laugh. "Oh, no. Not yet. You're on your way to Markarth, but first this cell needs warming. I think a week in darkness and solitary will chip some of the edges off your attitude."
Athene was ashamed, but she felt real fear. She tried to hide it but she was shuddering already. A week in this place? Alone in the dark? She struggled to find something to say that would change his mind. Her clever mind failed her.
Galmar saw the fear and his smile turned true. "There it is," he said. "Your heart."
He left her quickly, as if shaking her off his bootheel.