The sun was blinding as she walked down the steps that led to Jorrvaskr. It seemed time was slow today because the sun had barely changed its position. Less than an hour had passed since she had last been on these stairs and now she was well on her way to becoming a. . . companion.

Sálea sighed and paused on the steps to rub her temples. Her head was killing her, pounding against her skull with a vengeance. Everything around her was so loud that her mind turned it against her, using it to torment her.

Looking around for a moment before proceeding at a much slower rate, Sálea hoped no one would notice. A Thane was supposed to be strong, motivate the people, make them feel safe, help them, and protect them. A Thane can not be weak, nor can they show it. They represented their Jarl among the people. To display weakness would be to show the people that the Jarl was weak.

Sálea would rather die than disrespect him in such a manner. She never questioned him, even when she disagreed or didn't understand. She trusted him. He had her best interests at heart, right next to the people.

She was sure of it.

She had been his Thane for many years now, she even considered Jarl Balgruuf to be a friend of sorts. Defeating her first dragon all those months ago seemed like a distant memory, but she'll always remember the look on her Jarl's face when she said she killed a dragon and adsorbed its soul.

The awe, fear, and uncertainty all rolled into one as if he no longer knew her. She worked hard to regain his trust and show that she was no different than before. To show him that she can become stronger for Whiterun. However, this came at a cost. She had done what seemed like irreversible damage to herself, and she wasn't sure how to fix it.

Or if she even can.

With a sigh, Sálea walked up the steps leading into her home and all but stumbled inside as she lost her balance. Lydia, her housecarl and closest friend, was sitting at the hearth, cooking.

"Welcome home, my Thane!" The woman greeted, attention completely focused on her stew. "How did the meeting with the Jarl go? Well, I hope."

Sálea, grateful that Lydia was preoccupied for the moment, dragged herself over to the closest chair and collapsed with a groan. "My Jarl ordered me to hide out with the Warriors of Jorrvaskr, to join them." Sálea, attempting to hide how tired she was, threw her arm over her face. "I passed their first test and must complete another trial in order to solidify my position there as a companion."

Silence came from the other side of the room. "But. . . my Thane, you. . . dislike, the companions. Why would the Jarl send you to the people you've held a grudge against for so many years?"

"I'm the dragonborn, people have hired thugs and assassins to try and kill me. Why? I'm not sure but considering I haven't killed Aludin yet, it's a dumb move. The Jarl has commanded that this knowledge be kept from the people so they can not identify me to such ruffians. This was fine. Then I got involved with the Blades, you remember them I'm sure. That crazy bitch Dalphine got me stuck with the Thalmor. Crashed their party, even though we literally watched Alduin revive a dragon. All cuz if I didn't help her, she would stop helping me. And I need their help finding out how to kill the bastard. Also, they sent a letter ahead of us, did you know that? They told my Jarl that they recommend that I hide in. . ." Sálea took a deep breath and sighed. "Jorrvaskr."

Lydia remained silent, the only sounds in the room being the fire, the pot boiling, and the spoon scraping the pot as Lydia stirred. Sálea took the opportunity to admit her sins.

"I—I almost lost it on Tilma today. . ." she took a deep breath. "I had to give the redhead in the companions her shield so Eorlund could return to his wife. They lost their son, and I wanted to help. I didn't know her name was Aela, at first. Tilma told me, and," Sálea breathed again. "I don't want her to be afraid of me Lydia."

"I doubt the old woman could ever fear you, my Thane," Lydia spoke softly, closer. Sálea could smell the lavender and honey soap she used. A scent so subtle, that she never noticed it before that day. Now, she smelled the scents around her and was able to follow it like a dog did it's master. Sálea wasn't able to go to the fish stall, or into bars. Talos forbid she go back to Riften.

She nearly passed out from the stench.

"My Thane," Lydia started. "Have you rested?"

No. No, she hasn't. Sálea couldn't remember the last time she slept. Even if she managed to fall asleep, no rest can be found there. With nightmares battling against her and memories coming to haunt her, how could she?

Lydia rubbed her arm. "My Thane, please go upstairs and sleep. I'll wake you when the food is ready. You need to rest, you can't help anyone in such a state."

After a moment passed, Sálea removed her arm and looked blearily up at her housecarl. "Alright, I'll try."

Lydia smiled at her. "Good. Do you need help?"

If Lydia had been anyone else, she would have told her no. No, she didn't need help. She was the dragonborn. Thane of Whiterun. She didn't need help walking up the stairs! But Lydia wasn't just anybody else. She was her friend and had been for far longer than she cared to admit. They had seen each other at their worst, at their best. Lydia was the only one who knew what she did, what she's done in the name of Whiterun. The damage she caused herself. Lydia was right there through it all, the death of her Mother and the loss of her Father. The day she became Thane and the day she first saw Alduin.

If there was anyone she could trust, rely on, and be vulnerable with, it was her housecarl, her best friend.

"Yeah, I need help. I fell through the door earlier. I've worn myself out, and I have barely done anything today." Sálea sniffed and wiped away a tear. "What am I gonna do Lydia? I can't remain like this forever."

Lydia bent down and gathered Sálea in her arms, holding her tight. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out. For now, we'll focus on getting your strength back, and to do that, you must sleep." Pulling back, Lydia looked her in the eyes. "Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

Sálea nodded, parroting back to her. "Yeah."

It took a while, far longer than it should have for two warriors to get up a flight of stairs, but by the end of it, Sálea was sweating, breathing hard, and leaning completely on Lydia. Maybe she did use too much energy against Vilkas and their little spar.

A nagging voice started at the back of her head but Sálea ignored it. It was all Vilkas's fault for pissing her off. Yes, his fault.

Not hers, his.

. . . Her Mother would be ashamed of her.

With a moan, Sálea began forcing sore muscles to move out of her armor with the help of Lydia. Her light armor seemed impossibly heavy and her lengthy hair made it a personal mission to get stuck on everything. No matter how many times the women at the market told her to cut it for this exact reason, Sálea refused. It served no purpose, they said. Yes it did, it made her feel pretty.

Just a little worthwhile.

Lydia mentioned cutting it a few times over the years, but she eventually dropped it. To which Sálea was thankful. One less thing she had to worry about.

Finally getting out of the mess, and free from the restraints, Sálea sat down on her bed, only wearing her underthings. She was heaving, unable to catch her breath for many moments while Lydia went to go make her some tea. The tea was given to her as a gift from one of the nobles she had helped at some point. The man had been so thankful, he had given her what seemed to be a lifetime supply of great quality tea. Far too much for two women alone to drink.

If she didn't need it, she would give some away.

Lydia reappeared, carefully handed her off the mug, and left. Promising to come wake her when the food was prepared. Blowing some steam off the top and taking a sip, Sálea reveled in the warmth it gave her. The tea tasted of cinnamon and some other spices she hadn't identified yet, but the ingredients put together were wonderful.

A saving grace.

It was the most effective treatment they found so far. Lydia had even stopped drinking it to make sure Sálea wouldn't run out anytime soon. Though she doubted she would, she appreciated the thought.

Finishing the drink, Sálea set down the mug and climbed under the blankets, eyes heavy. Without much thought, Sálea allowed sleep to take her.