A/N: Doing a bit of time travelling here – this takes place after the chapter I'm currently working on for GwtV, but since it doesn't give anything away about the chapter (that still hasn't been posted…sorry!), I'm putting it up. Because I actually wrote something! All the happy!
This Needs to End
The bitter winds of winter were upon even the most southern reaches of Skyrim. Admittedly, Whiterun was much warmer than the lands in the hold of Hjaalmarch, but that did not stop the chill from running through Marieka's body.
Or perhaps the chill had more to do with her imminent task.
This needs to end.
Rumours of more frequent – more violent – dragon attacks were flying from city to city throughout the province. The temporary peace between the Stormcloak and Legion forces was tenuous, at best, and barely held, at worst. It never mattered, however. Even if the forces never returned to their war, there was still the chance that she would fail. And Alduin would destroy everything.
This needs to end.
And again. That chill.
As she sat on the steps to Breezehome, her eyes found their way up and down the street. The men, women and children she should have called neighbours - were she able to feel a sense of community with them - went about their business. Work was ongoing to repair the damages sustained through the attack on Whiterun, when the Stormcloaks and Legion struggled for control of the city.
Marieka should her head sadly. She had been losing hope. In these people. In the leadership of the province. In herself.
Could she save them? Did she even want to anymore?
No one was there to protect her baby. Not even…Brynjolf.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She never wanted to blame him. She never wanted the resentment that had begun to creep into the back of her mind to do so. How would he have even been able to prevent the chain of events from happening? How would he have known that she would be kidnapped? The Brotherhood could have killed him. And she'd still be in the same situation, except, she'd have lost him too.
A long sigh escaped with her breath as she opened her eyes. She watched as the breath materialized in front of her; a cloud that disappeared just as quickly as it became visible.
A young boy ran through the street, passing by the walkway to where she sat. He slowed as he eyed her carefully. She forced a smile at him; his eyes crinkled as he giggled and tore away from her. Her hand instinctively reached for her stomach, the sense of loss never more apparent. She watched the boy continue to run through the streets, darting in between people until he was out of sight. His laughter echoed in her ears.
He was worth saving.
This needs to end.