Iman was prostrate in the snow. She could feel the icy chill of the ground through the thin fabric of her gown. Her hand shook as she held up the old Thalmor emblem, tarnished with age.
"I swear to you Emissary, on my life, that I am Iman of House Suda, betrayer of the city of Taneth during the Great War for Hammerfell. My countrymen have tracked me to this province and in my hour of need, I beg sanctuary at your Embassy until I might find lodgings elsewhere."
The emblem was taken from her hand. Iman looked up.
"Hmm." the elf muttered, her long, golden face betraying nothing as she turned the bauble this way and that between her thin, tapering fingers. "It is true that such tokens are given to our allies in order that they might identify themselves. And though I was not present for the conflict, I have heard tell of this Iman of Taneth. However…"
Iman was trying desperately not to get her hopes up. The tone of her voice was quickly dashing them.
She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Her throat was tight and dry. She had run halfway across the province to get here, slept in the wilderness for days on end, hid herself from every soul who might have recognized her.
The truth was that she had no idea where she might go after this.
The elf tucked the emblem into her robe and crossed her arms.
"Tokens may be stolen, stories, fabricated. Have you no proof of your identity beyond your word?"
Her breath caught in her throat. There was one thing, one slim remnant of the life she left behind. It had never before been seen by the eyes of another person. Her hand moved slowly, as though caught in honey, as she reached for it. It felt innately wrong, to hand it over to another, to let hands other than her own touch it. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. There was so much bad teenage poetry in it, but if it might save her life…
She withdrew her battered journal from her bodice and presented it to the elf. Its cover had once been crusted with jewels, but she had pried them free and sold them long ago. Its pages were warped and water-stained, but still, it was intact.
"The secrets of House Suda are contained within." she said, with a tremble in her voice. "Examine it to your heart's content."
The elf accepted the book and quickly rifled through it. Iman couldn't bear to look. Every so often she could hear her pausing on a page and letting out an interested "Hmm!"
At the sound of the journal snapping shut, she looked up. The elf gave a curt nod to the tall guard accompanying her.
"Tell the housekeeper to prepare a room for Iman of House Suda and inform the cook that we will have one more for dinner."
She handed the book back to her. Iman rose to her feet shakily and clutched it to her chest as though hanging on for dear life.
"She is to be treated as an honored guest." she yelled across the courtyard at the guard's receding, shiny back.