Ciri awoke to Brynjar's arms wrapped around her and tousled bed sheets. Last night hadn't gone as she planned, but even better.

Brynjar yawned as he awoke. "Morning, sleeping beauty. Have fun last night?"

Ciri smiled and turned to face Brynjar. "Certainly. You did promise I'd enjoy myself here in Whiterun, and I have, so far." They embraced and kissed, running their hands in each other's hair, feeling each other up. A knock sounded on the door. Brynjar sighed and rolled out of bed to dress. Ciri stayed in bed to simply admire his physique. She was forced out of bed by the constant knocking.

"Alright, alright, come in already," Brynjar groaned. Vrag opened the door.

"Harbinger, a courier came from the High King requesting your presence in Solitude." Vrag saw the conditions on which he'd walked in on, and quickly left blushing.

"What would the King want with you?" Ciri asked.

"Probably something to do with the war effort. We should leave today, before noon."

Ciri began dressing. "That's too bad, I was starting to like this place. Are you sure we have to go now?"

"You can stay if you like, I suppose. I'll just return for you on my way back."

Ciri pulled on her boots and stood up. "Oh no. If you think I'll let you go an adventure without me, you are greatly mistaken."

Brynjar smiled then kissed Ciri. "Then get ready, the journey is almost a week long at best. I think we'll have ourselves a grand time." He finished dressing himself and headed out the door. Ciri followed him out into the quarters, where several dwellers were passed out with serious hangovers from the previous night. They went up the stairs and into the now quiet halls where a maid was sweeping. More Companions were passed out from last night, strewn across the floor. Vrag was waiting for them by the door.

"Here, the courier said to give this to you," Vrag handed Brynjar a scroll with the Imperial dragon seal on it. Vrag headed off to move the drunks off the floor.

"An Imperial seal? Must be important," Brynjar noted and proceeded to read it aloud: "To Legate Brynjar Snow-Hammer, Dragonborn and Harbinger of the Companions, the Imperial Commander Tarquinius Mede and the High King of Skyrim, request your presence at the convening war council in Solitude, at the behest of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Septimus Mede. Accommodations will be made for yourself and one guest."

Brynjar tucked the scroll in his belt. "Well, we'd best get going then. A war council is important. Very important." Brynjar held the door open for Ciri as they left Jorrvaskr and headed back to Breezehome to gather supplies. They walked through the stirring city quickly, or at least Ciri did. Brynjar had told her that Solitude was Skyrim's capital, making her excited to explore an even bigger city. Brynjar yanked open the door to Breezehome, where Lydia was eating a small breakfast.

"You two are back. Have a good time last night?" Lydia asked, trying to hide a smirk on her face.

"Yes. Better than I expected," Ciri responded, already knowing what Lydia was referring to. An awkward silence followed with Lydia suppressing a smile and Ciri staring at Brynjar. Brynjar blushed and broke the silence.

"Ahem. Lydia, I'm going to be gone for a while again, so I need you to look after the place."

Lydia feigned interest. "Where are you off to this time?"

"Solitude. A war council apparently."

Lydia frowned. "War council? That can't be good. Skyrim's hardly rebounded from the civil war."

Brynjar shrugged. "I'm not sure what we're discussing, but I don't think war is avoidable unfortunately." Brynjar brushed past Lydia and began packing food and potions. Ciri helped him, grabbing the satchels when they were full.

"Ciri, can you take this to the horse? I need to grab a few more things."

"Fine, but I'm not riding a horse with you," Ciri teased. Brynjar made a joke about her riding skills and disappeared up the stairs before Ciri could respond. Lydia sniggered and handed Ciri a pouch of Septims.

"This should take care of that." Lydia sat down, still giggling.

"Thank you." Ciri left the house and started on her way to the stables. She looked back for a moment, taking in the city before stepping outside the gates. She passed by the Khajiit caravan, who were haggling with a farmer, and came to the stables.

"Leaving so soon?" The stable-hand asked.

Ciri nodded. "Mhm. Solitude bound this time," Ciri took out the coin pouch Lydia gave her. "Will this buy a second horse?"

The stable-hand gripped the pouch tightly. "Yep, this oughta do," He led a cream colored mare from the stable and handed the reins to Ciri. "She's a bit old, but she can still ride like the wind and she's well trained."

Ciri began securing the satchels to the mare's saddle. She was checking the bridle and stirrups when Brynjar nudged her.

"Here, this might come in handy," He handed her a thick fur cloak. "It may be spring, but the weather is completely unpredictable."

Ciri folded the cloak and wrapped it in a bundle on the saddle. She mounted up and trotted next to Brynjar. She noticed the new armor he wore: banded dark iron with the same seal imprinted on the breastplate. They rode on silently for a while, until Ciri's curiosity poked at her brain.

"This Civil war I've been hearing about…, care to explain?"

Brynjar snapped out of daydreaming mode. "Huh? Oh yeah, the Civil War. Right, so before then, there was another war: the Great War, the Aldmeri Dominion against the Empire. There was a chance for the Empire to win, but they didn't, so the Dominion practically crushed us. To save the provinces from any further bloodshed, Emperor Titus Mede II signed an agreement called the White-Gold Concordant. It had lots of different terms the Empire had to meet for there to be peace, but the most controversial one was that the worship of Talos was to be outlawed in all Imperial provinces. You remember the story of Tiber Septim, right?"

Ciri nodded, recalling the seemingly impossible tale of a man becoming a god. Brynjar continued. "No one was happy about that, especially not us Nords. That right there was enough to start a war. There wouldn't have been one had it not been for the Markarth Incident. What happened there was that Ulfric Stormcloak, a renowned war hero and Jarl of Windhelm, was betrayed by the Imperials. I'm not entirely certain what actually happened, but it was enough for Ulfric to rally a good sized force against the Empire. Ulfric claimed he and his Stormcloaks wanted Skyrim to be independent from the Empire and fight the Dominion alone. He pushed it to the limits when he killed the High King Torygg, making him the most wanted man in Tamriel. See this is where things get complicated. Ulfric was highly respected, especially by Torygg, so much so that he would've gladly taken any advice Ulfric would have to offer; even if it meant war. But Ulfric was an Aldmeri war prisoner, and you see, they let him go so he could intentionally destabilize and weaken the Empire."

Ciri's head swam with that information. "That's a lot to accuse a man of. Did you ever meet him yourself?"

"I did. Twice, I think. Once I thought to join his rebellion, especially after the Imperials tried to chop off my head. But I realized there's no way Skyrim can hope to challenge the Dominion without Imperial support. The last time I met him was right before he died, right before I took his head."

Ciri grimaced. They rode on silently for a few minutes until Brynjar smiled at Ciri.

"Tell me something. About Yennefer and Geralt."

Ciri looked at him for a moment and nodded. "OK. Yennefer, she used to give me lessons on magic and how to use it. How to control and focus my abilities into energy," Ciri smiled fondly and chuckled. "I used to think she was a bitter old witch, but I liked her. She grew to love me, and I loved her. She became the mother I never had, and I was the daughter she never could have."

Brynjar smiled. "Must be something, being the daughter of a monster hunter and a sorceress."

"It was. Gods, it's been so long since I've seen them. I hope they don't worry too much about me," Ciri began to shiver as the temperature dropped slightly. She wrapped the fur cloak around her. "You know, you've never told me about your parents. You always dodged the subject."

Brynjar sighed. "Fine, I might as well tell you, or else you'll never leave me alone about it. Well, my mother was an Imperial, grew up in Bruma. She was the owner of an alchemy shop. My father was a Nord, who came to Bruma as a priest of Akatosh. They met, fell in love, and moved to Skyrim, to a small village south of Falkreath. That was where I was born, where I spent eight years. They were good years, full of play and carelessness. Then the Dominion came. They burnt the whole town to the ground. I wanted to stay behind, help my parents escape, but they begged me to run, run and never look back. The last thing I remember of them were their screams of agony as our cottage burnt with them inside it."

Ciri looked dismayed. "Oh, I'm very sorry. I didn't know."

"No, it's fine. I ran, north to Falkreath. I slept outside the town on the ground for a while, until the innkeeper and his son found me. They offered me shelter and food in return for work at the inn. The man raised me like his own son, and his son treated me like a brother. I stayed with them until my 24th birthday, when I decided to leave for Cyrodiil, to see the world and go on adventures. That's where my trouble began."

"Hmm, speaking of birthdays, I never have asked, but how old are you?"

"30 this summer, Sun's Height to be approximate."

"Oo, something tells me Geralt won't like that much."

"Why? We're not that far apart, and besides age is just a number."

Ciri nodded. "Right." The two continued on for a few more hours, well after the sun had set. Soon they came upon a small farming village with a cozy looking inn.

Brynjar hopped off his horse. "Here, we'll stop here for the night." Ciri climbed down and allowed Brynjar to tie the horses to a post. They walked into the inn where a large fire was roaring and a few villagers were drinking. He approached the innkeeper. "Is there a room open?"

The innkeeper stopped wiping the counter to look up for a moment. "Ay, but it only got one bed."

Brynjar grinned. "One bed is fine." Ciri crossed her arms as he handed the innkeeper 10 septims. Brynjar shrugged deviously. "What? I figured you wouldn't mind." Ciri shut and locked the door behind them and began undressing. Before she continued, she caught Brynjar staring.

"Turn around and close your eyes, your Rudeness," She teased. Brynjar chuckled as he obeyed, slowly loosening his own armor. Ciri rubbed his bare back when she was done. Brynjar opened his eyes, and began caressing her soft skin, taking in her beauty. "Do you remember what you said about my riding skills?" Ciri asked as she pushed Brynjar down on the sorry wooden bed and started kissing him. Both Brynjar and she forgot what he said as they made blissful love the whole night.