-Sorry for the delay in between updates. Guess I was still getting back on track in the wake of the holiday seasons and all that. Ah well, pointless excuses aside, enjoy the chapter! -


The doors to the Palace of the Kings closed again with a resounding boom. The three women were again assaulted by the harsh nipping chill of cold snowflakes falling all around them.

"Whew, am I glad to-" Illia started to talk but stopped herself abruptly as she realized there was still a single guard posted directly outside of the doors. Her mouth snapped shut right then and there; it might not have been the best to speak what she was about to say in front of those loyal to Ulfric.

Siffre and Lydia saw the look on her face, and they seemed to catch on quick.

"Let's uh, move a little further outward... out of earshot," Siffre suggested. The trio made their way along the exterior courtyard towards the narrow 'entry walls' that had the plaques on the other end. The three women made their way across the way until they had cleared the entryway. The grander whole of Windhelm had opened back up to them, in all its cold, cold glory.

Illia took a quick glance around, carefully studying the surroundings. She took a sigh of relief upon finding that no one else was around them at the moment.

"Whew...! As I was saying... I'm glad to be out of there..." she spoke.

"I... think I would have to agree," Siffre said, absently rubbing her palms together to ward off the cold.

"Seriously, if I have to deal with ONE more person calling me out as 'Imperial', I'll... I'll...!" Illia spoke in rising volume before relenting, "I don't know..."

"You're still standing, considering you spoke to this city's 'leader'," Siffre reminded her. The ice mage regarded her with a nod before Siffre glanced at her housecarl, "Lydia...?"

"Hm? Oh, yes Siffre?" she said. Her simple questioning only earned her a tilted head look from Siffre.

"Is... everything alright? You just seemed a bit... quieter from before," she said, "And, why had Ulfric called you out like that?"

"I... well..." Lydia was forced to reconsider. It was rather strange the way Ulfric had asked that seemingly random question towards her. Had Jarl Balgruuf taken a stance on the war... Perhaps it was to be expected that Jarl Ulfric of all people would be posing that question. He was the leader of one of the warring factions for this province after all.

However, a frown graced her face as something else came to mind. She recalled something else Ulfric had said. That rather specific sentence, 'Indecisions tend to be more costly than losses.' A cryptic sentence it most definitely was, and yet Lydia for some reason could not stop thinking about it. More costly... Indecisions... It all came back to Jarl Balgruuf himself having not chosen a side in the Civil War, to her knowledge. A consideration began to take root in the back of her mind as well. A rather unpleasant notion: one that involved Jarl Ulfric taking 'rash' action against the Jarl of Whiterun...

"Um... Sif- My Thane?" she spoke up, earning her looks from the other two women, "Do you think... I mean, do you think it'd be possible if we were to... well, return to Whiterun?"

"Hm? We should go to Whiterun?" her questioning was not posed as any protest, which Lydia took as a good thing, "Well... we could do that. Except, what brought this on?"

"Whiterun? Is that another city here in Skyrim?" Illia asked as well.

"My home, it's where I'm from," Lydia replied to the mage, "And, definitely a much different place than here..." She slowly looked back over to Siffre again, "And it's just... I don't know, perhaps I felt like meeting back with Jarl Balgruuf again. It's been so long after all..."

"It has, hasn't it...?" Siffre said before rubbing her chin with two fingers, "Well... we can definitely go there, if you'd like." She then looked towards Illia, "That alright with you...?" Illia's eyes met the Dragonborn's with a look of her own. There was a sense of awe in her eyes as she did so as well.

"I... well," she said, "I would like to go somewhere... warmer. But you're really asking if I'd like to join you?"

"Of course, why wouldn't we?" Siffre said, while gesturing to both her and Lydia, "The way I see it, us three... We're pretty much as one, right...? We all stick together?" From her remark, the other two women found themselves glancing back and forth between each other as well.

"R-really? You'd let me join you, wherever you go?" she said, to which Siffre nodded. In that moment, Illia's eyes seemed to light up a little, and her fists clenched in excitement at her side, "Then... I'm honored!"

"And thank you, my thane, for agreeing to return to Whiterun," Lydia said as well.

"However," Siffre said, "If we're going to be traveling back there... perhaps we should purchase supplies?" She presented the filled coin-purse that Ulfric's presumed steward had handed to her, "I mean, we'd have the coin for whatever we'd need..." From the slight jingle produced from her hands, Lydia could only smirk slightly. That was good, and it wasn't even counting the coin that she carried on her either!

"Very well, we can do that," she said, "But, where would this city's marketplace be?"

"Um..." Siffre looked around as she hooked the purse onto her own waist, "Let's find a guardsman..." With that the three women made their way back down the way they came. Looking up above them, the sky was beginning to turn a little darker. It was still completely overcast with thick, dark clouds, which only made it appear that way, despite it being around the afternoon. The snowfall around them was also light, but still stung against their skin all the same.

Finally, a patrolling guardsman could be seen walking in their general direction, a burning torch in hand.

"Excuse me, sir..." Siffre called out. The man stopped in place to regard them, "Do you know where this city's market is...?"

"It's just that way," the man quickly pointed away, in the direction towards the massive gates, "Head towards the gates, but make a right, then go all the way across. You can't miss it."

"My thanks," the Dragonborn said. The guardsman nodded as well then resumed his patrol. With Siffre leading the way, the three women made their way down the wider passageway they had come from. Candlehearth Hall, the central building was off on their left side. As they walked past it, there was a growing sense of unease, especially from Illia. After all, she had been nearly attacked by a Windhelm denizen and was last seen entering this building. Who knew if that man would suddenly emerge again, or worse, if there were many others like him; drunken louts who might succeed this time in trying to attack her?

Once they had arrived in front of the gates, they hung a right just as instructed. True enough, at a distance a small bustle of people could be seen. Muted voices could also be heard, which was good enough confirmation. From what they could see, there didn't seem to be any more drunken people wandering the street. Or perhaps this was a 'stone alley' they were walking in rather than a street? The only person to be seen was a casually dressed man, chopping wood off to the left side. The man paid the trio little mind as they passed by, so they did the same with him.

The group reached the end of the walkway and into a larger expanse of land. The many talking noises were now heard much clearer now; a number of people were walking about in front of a small number of stalls. In addition, the sound of a hammer pounding against an anvil could be heard. A pair of smiths were working a nearby forge, on the other end of a small wall that nearly split this marketplace in two.

"Fruits and vegetables! All ripe and ready for your table!"

"I have a little of everything for sale! Come, see for yourself!"

"Buying and selling a wide range of assorted goods, the best selection in Windhelm!"

"Hey, look at that," Illia pointed out as they walked in closer, "These people behind the stalls; some of them aren't Nords."

"Yeah, you're right," Lydia said. She quickly identified an Altmer working a stall on the left side, and a Dunmer working a stall on the opposite end, "I guess merchant work is better for some races besides Nords..." The three women made their way into the center of the market area before stopping. Lydia herself spun around to look to Siffre, "Alright then, what sort of things do we need...?"

"I-If it's not too much trouble," Illia spoke up, "I would like mana potions."

"Fair enough. Some healing potions would be good too," Lydia said, "And maybe we should get some foods to take with us as well." Very subtly, Illia's eyes lit up a little at the mention of food, "Anything else?"

"How is all of our equipment? Weapons..." Siffre spoke up. Lydia reached down to unsheathe her sword. She held it out in front of her with one hand at the tip's end, looking at it while also holding it up before the other two. Likewise, Siffre reached behind her and pulled forth her great-sword to study it as well, "Mine could do with a sharpening I think..."

"Yeah, mine wouldn't hurt with one either..." Lydia agreed. She lowered her sword arm back to her waist to look up again. Her gaze was brought back up to Illia, who had pulled forth a small dagger of her own. It was an ordinary iron dagger, but the mage was studying it just as intently. However, there was a small frown on her face as well, "That's a... nice dagger there too."

"It's... I know it's not much," she admitted, "I know it's not something that I use often, not when I have my spells." Lydia studied the dagger as well with a raised eyebrow. It was of iron make with a brown leather-wrapped hilt, one of the most common daggers one was ever to find.

"Well, in that case, would you prefer a stronger, 'better' kind?" she suggested, "Say, a steel dagger?"

"What? A 'steel' dagger?" Illia said, pulling her dagger back towards herself with a surprised look on her face, "I mean, if it's not too much trouble-"

"Does it really seem like coin is going to be an issue...?" Lydia said with a sly smirk, before gesturing her head towards Siffre and her coin purse she held, "And besides, it is best we all have good equipment with us and in good condition."

"Oh! Heh heh, I suppose you're right there..." Illia nervously laughed. She gripped her iron knife in its sheath in on hand before nodding, "Alright then, I'll... exchange mine, for a better kind of dagger?"

"Sounds good..." Siffre nodded as well before looking to her side, "And here, the blacksmith is right here; we can do it now..." The three women curved directly to their right, before the blacksmith forge. Two other Nords could be seen standing before them working the various stations, including a dark-haired woman standing before a workbench, and balding, older man wearing a blacksmith's apron standing with his back leaned against the wall. He gave a courteous smile upon seeing the three women approach.

"Well met," he greeted, "Don't think I've seen you around Windhelm before. You must be new here."

"Yes, we are," Siffre said before presenting her weapon towards the man, "We would like our blades sharpened, us two…" she gestured between her and Lydia. The housecarl held her sheathed weapon before the man herself. The man reached out towards the blades before looking over his shoulder.

"Hermir! Here girl!" he called out.

"Hm?" the other woman, Hermir, halted her hammering at the table and looked towards him. She set her hammer down and approached the group.

"Got some blades here need sharpenin'," the man said. He took the larger sheathed great-sword and handed it to her, "Here, why don't you sharpen this one first?"

"Really?" she said with a hint of excitement in her voice. She drew the great-sword from its sheathe just enough to show a hint of the steel beneath it, "This sword's impressive! I'll do what I can for it! Thank you Oengul," She then turned around towards the grindstone as she unsheathed the great-sword completely. She took a seat and held the sword before her head to gaze along its length first.

The man, Oengul, turned back to the three women.

"Also, do you by chance happen to sell quality steel daggers?" Lydia asked.

"Ah, I'm afraid not, just sold the last one a couple of days ago you see," Oengul said with a shrug of his shoulders. He then turned his head across the small wall that separated his smithy from the rest of the market, "One of the other vendors there may be able to sell you such a dagger however, like Niranye over there."

"Oh, I see, thank you anyway," Lydia replied before flashing Illia an apologetic look. Behind them the familiar sound of metal on the spinning grindstone could be heard. Oengul himself looked back down at the sheathed sword of Lydia's he still held in his hand. Upon looking at the top of it however, his eyes could be seen widening slightly.

"This sword here," he said before looking up again, "By chance are you from Whiterun?"

"I am," Lydia spoke up, "But, how did you know?"

"Your symbol here…?" the man pointed to Whiterun's yellow horse on the sheath's pommel section with a smile.

"Oh, of course…!" Lydia said, flushing a little.

"But not only that…" the man continued as he slowly drew the metal forth from the sheath itself, "I'd recognize this anywhere… This sword could've only come from Whiterun I'm betting..." He nearly beamed twice as much as he looked at Lydia again. The woman in turn found his grin to be strangely infectious, as she was beginning to beam with pride herself.

"Well, yes but…" she said, "How can you- er, how 'else' can you tell?"

"This steel here, unlike that seen anywhere else..." Oengul ran a few of his fingertips along the flat of the blade, "Skyforge Steel, this is! Yep, I'm betting this was forged by old Eorlund Gray-Mane himself, was it not?"

"Really?" Lydia said. She looked back down at the blade she held in hand. But, she was so certain! There was no way this weapon could actually be... Thinking back, her only past experiences with this blade were of Jarl Balgruuf gifting it to her. Beyond that, she'd simply assumed the man had carried it into battle with him. From how ordinary the blade appeared to her, she never considered it might've actually been Skyforge Steel! Balgruuf had never drawn attention to that little fact, so she had no reason to suspect herself, "I... suppose it was. I hadn't really... it was gifted to me, you see."

"And a fine gift to be sure," Oengul said with a nod, "However... Could I perhaps entertain you the option for... shall we say, an 'improvement'?"

"Improvement?" Lydia asked with a slightly tilted head, "But, it's Skyforge Steel, isn't it? Is this not supposed to be some of the best steel already?"

"Don't misunderstand- I'm not implying that Eorlund's work is not quality, by any means!" Oengul clarified, "After all, the man has the good fortune to work the Skyforge! I'm just saying that some of us can produce quality items from our own hands...!" Lydia's eyebrow raised in slightly bemusement. The passion the man was demonstrating at the moment was captivating to say the least.

"Alright then, how would make it 'better'?"

"Well, for a reasonably priced sum of fifteen gold, I can fit this here blade with a fine shine of polish!" Oengul spoke proudly, "But not just any polish you see; it's of my own recipe! It'll not only make it shine like diamond, but it'll act as a 'smooth' finish. Perfect for those 'clean' strikes during when you run your enemies through! Well? What do you say?" Lydia had to admit, she was definitely in awe from the way this offer was being sold to her. She glanced to Siffre and Illia for a moment, before finally shrugging herself.

"Alright, I'll accept," she said. She reached to her side and pulled forth the necessary number of coins required. The man took the coins into his own hand.

"Excellent! You'll not regret this!" Oengul fully removed the blade from the sheath, then turned around towards the forge. The three women saw him pull forth a small vial of a dark gray colored liquid. But before they could see him begin to work, the sound of the grindstone ceasing its spinning drew their attention. Hermir as examining the edges of Siffre's own blade closely now, but it was apparent that she had finished her own sharpening.

She pulled herself up from her seat at the grindstone and walked back towards Siffre.

"Here you are, sharpened up to a fine edge!" she said, presenting the great-sword back to her. Siffre reached forth to take the great-sword's hilt in her right hand. Her left hand supported the flat of the blade with the flat of her palm. She hardly needed to inspect the blade terribly closely to see the pristine work put into it.

"This is... fine sharpening," she said with a nod, "Thank you."

"But of course, I strive for nothing short of perfection after all!" Hermir replied. She glanced to the side towards Oengul as he himself worked, "And I see Oengul's talked you into trying his 'specialty shine'?" All eyes were drawn to the man at that point as he worked. They watched him first hold the blade over the anvil, then rub a cloth soaked in his special finish all across the blade first. He did this for a few strokes on each side of the blade before finally bringing it to the forge's flames and submerging it within.

"Hope you're watching, Hermir, one day you'll be doing this yourself!" the man openly announced as he worked. With the blade inside the inner flames of the forge, Oengul cranked a couple times on the pull-cord mounted bellows beneath, allowing major blasts of super heat against the metal. He then did this for a couple more times for a minute or so before finally removing the blade. The flat of the blade held a dull glowing red as it was brought out into the cold, snow filled air.

"Yeah, that's definitely Skyforge Steel alright. The way its metal holds a little tighter..." he could be heard speaking to himself aloud while he looked at it with squinted eyes. He finally brought the blade to the water filled trough on the side and dipped it completely in. A loud hiss filled the ears of those listening, while a small cloud of steam emerged from the water. The blade was held in place for about thirty seconds before finally being drawn forth back into the open. Oengul quickly laid it upon the anvil once again, this time taking a separate dry cloth and wiping it completely dry, "There! All done! You paying attention to this, Hermir? Immediately wipe the blade off when you pull it from the water, or else the air will fr-"

"Yes yes Oengul, I know! I know about metal freezing in this weather!" Hermir quickly cut in. The man let out a scoff mixed with a small chuckle, before finishing up wiping the blade. He finally pulled the blade up, presenting it before both himself, and his patrons before him.

"Here you go! A finish to make a fine blade even finer!" Lydia slowly took the blade from the man's presenting hands, while deliberately taking the time to study it up close. She was no smith herself, but even she could tell the blade's metal held more reflection upon the flat of its surface. And not only that, the edges appeared all the more sharper, just like Siffre's blade.

"This looks... fine as well," she said.

"I could tell that weapon has seen plenty of battles in its time," Oengul said, "Take care to ensure it sees plenty more!" Lydia nodded to the man, while also taking the sheath he held out to her and sliding the blade back into it, "Alright, then that just leaves the ten gold for the sharpenin' of 'her' blade." Oengul indicated to Siffre. Lydia once again fished forth the necessary ten coins requested, after she had secured her sword back onto her waist. She passed them onto the man, with Hermir's face smiling in turn as she did so. "Excellent, hope you'll come by again!" With a nod of thanks in turn, Lydia stepped away, with Siffre and Illia following her.

"Alright, you two have your blades there tended to," the mage said, "Now I guess I just need... a better one?"

"That's the plan," Siffre said, "Let's... let's try that stand on the left..." she pointed to the stall in question, which had an Altmer woman standing behind it. Upon the stall top held an assortment of arms, like blades, maces, and even shields. All of them were of steel make. Looks like that would be the perfect place for Illia's new weapon to be found.

As the trio walked closer, the could see the Altmer was already conversing with someone. Someone that was dressed in rather fancy looking robes, but with a completely down-trodden face that clashed completely with the extravagance of his attire.

"You again have my condolences, Torbjorn Shatter-Shield," the high elf said, "If there is anything I can do for you, you have but to ask."

"Bah, a fat lot of good sympathy does me!" the man, Torbjorn, could be heard. His facial expressions couldn't be seen from their angle, but the tone of his voice more than conveyed he was in complete distress. The woman vendor on the other hand could be seen looking back at him with a constant studious face, never betraying any look of recoil from his response. Torbjorn seemed to take a breath and spoke again, "I... I'm sorry. Please, forgive my mood, and my words..."

"Think nothing of it, Torbjorn," the woman said, "And I meant what I said before. Give Tova my regards!" Torbjorn barely gave a nod of his head as he practically dragged his feet and walked off to the side. The high elf then turned her head to see the three women approaching her and her stall, "Ah, welcome! You three must be travelers? Don't think I've seen you around here before."

"We've been hearing that a lot, haven't we...?" Lydia found herself speaking out loud upon hearing that observation. She quickly shook her head, "Er- no, we're not from here. Travelers."

"Ah yes, I would travel more myself, but I'd rather not have to deal with the Stormcloaks and such these days," the Altmer said, "And besides, I find it much better to settle down in one place instead. But anyway, I can only assume something I have here has caught your eye?"

"Well, I myself would be interested in a dagger," Illia spoke up, "That is, a better one. Better than this..." She gestured a hand towards her waist to indicate her holstered iron knife.

"A new dagger? Better than one made of iron?" the woman said, "As it happens, I might have just the thing..." The woman's hands disappeared underneath the stall top for but a moment before reemerging with a sheathed dagger in both hands. She held it up to present it before the three women, "From this morning's shipment, a fine steel dagger. A vast improvement I assure you to your current arm."

"Arm...?" Illia said, her right hand instinctively reaching out to rub her bandaged left arm. A solid second passed before realization hit her in her mind as to what the woman meant, which caused her to blush in mild embarrassment, "O-oh! Right, compared to this dagger, of course..." She nearly jumped in surprise upon feeling a hand upon her shoulder. Looking to her side, she found the hand belonged to Siffre, with the Dragonborn giving her a smile. Not a smile out of ridicule, but a gentler smile, free of any judgement. Illia looked back at the merchant, "Could I perhaps... see that steel dagger first?"

"For verifications? Of course, I fully understand..." the woman handed the sheathed weapon to the mage. Illia took the small weapon in the palms of her hands. She quickly noticed how it felt the slightest bit heavier in her hands. The few times she'd used her iron dagger the tool felt about as heavy as a common eating fork. This one however felt more about the weight of a rock. The sheath itself was brown in color, and concealed the entire blade within, leaving only the hilt and handle exposed.

She gripped the leather scabbard and drew forth the blade with her other hand. Light immediately reflected off of the flat of the blade, creating a small flare before her eyes. Illia's own eyes seemed to widen as well; this blade looked magnificent! It was shiny, sharp around all edges, and felt very nice within the grip of her hand!

"That's a decent weapon there," Lydia noted.

"Really? It is?" Illia said, glancing at her for a second.

"'Decent'? Perhaps I haven't sold it well enough for it to be better than 'decent'!" the woman said with a laugh, "Ah, I'm only joking. But I assure you, that is a fine blade. A perfect sidearm for one to have." Illia gave a few light swipes with the blade directly in front of her, slashing at the tiny, invisible enemies that stood before her.

"I like it...! It feels really good in my hand too!" she said, sheathing the dagger back in the scabbard.

"Wonderful! I take it that means you'll accept it?" Illia nodded rather eagerly, "That will be twenty-five gold then."

"Wait, can't we simply trade the daggers, instead of paying...?" Siffre spoke up. The woman's grin faded ever so slightly yet did not disappear completely in response.

"I'm afraid not, I have to make a profit myself, you see," she said with a shake of her head, "However, what I can do is accept the iron dagger and instead knock the price down to fifteen gold coins. That should be enough to offset it. What do you say?" Siffre glanced at the other two women and gave them a shrug of her shoulders. With no objections from either one of them, the daggers were exchanged, as well as the sum of fifteen gold given to the vendor.

"Thank you..." Illia said, taking her new steel dagger in both hands, "Now um, do you happen to sell any magicka potions here as well?" The vendor shook her head again.

"I'm afraid potions and poultices are not what I usually sell," she then pointed to the side at her fellow shop vendors next to her, "But one of these stands could potentially have what you seek."

"Alright then, we'll take a look," Lydia said. With that she and the other two women stepped away. They each looked upon the two stalls that stood on the right side. One was manned by a Nord woman with various foods on display, while the other one had a male dark elf behind his with more miscellaneous items upon his. Both of them were dressed in skin-concealing clothing to protect against the chilly wind, with only their faces visible.

"Hm, it looks like that one there sells foods," Lydia pointed out, "We'll definitely need some food for the road as well. Tell you what, I'll take care of that, you two take care of what you needed, Illia?"

"Sure, that'll work," Siffre said.

"Right, one moment..." Lydia then broke apart from their group and made for the center-most shop stall. The woman standing behind it greeted her with a warm smile amidst the freezing cold wind.

"Hello there," the vendor spoke, "How can I help you?"

"I need just some basic food provisions, enough for three," Lydia said. The woman nodded and set to work. Before and Lydia lay an assortment of fruits and vegetables, still rich in color as if they'd been freshly picked. The woman took three separate sturdy clothes and one by one filled them with various foods. Each one was filled with a few sets of these foods, until the woman finally stopped to wrap the cloth over each of them completely and seal shut with pins.

"There we are, three food provisions," the woman said, "That'll be... thirty gold please."

"Thirty...?" Lydia spoke aloud. She didn't mean for that to sound like she was complaining, as it had simply surprised her. Nonetheless, she reached back into her coinpurse and pulled forth the coins required. She did not how her purse felt significantly lighter as a result of this particular transation. She felt a weighty feeling in her being as her coin-filled hand left her purse and presented them to the vendor.

"Twenty five... thirty," she finished counting. She pushed forth the provisions bags closer towards Lydia, "Do you need something to carry these in? Like a bag?"

"N-no thank you, I'll be fine..." Lydia wrapped her right arm around the bags and lifted them close to her body. Having stepped away from the stall, she thankfully did not have to step far, as Illia and Siffre were quickly approaching her. "Here! Both of you take one..." She indicated to the bags in her arm. The two women quickly reached forward to take a bag literally off of Lydia's hands.

"These are our foods?" Siffre asked.

"They are," Lydia nodded, "About enough for a day's journey, I think. You've gotten what you need?"

"Yes, I've gotten a supply of potions myself, for healing and for my magicka," Illia said, pointing to her bag that hung on the side of her body.

"Right then, I guess we have all we need..." Siffre said, "Let's go finally."

"Yes, let's. I'll be glad to be gone from here," Illia hastily agreed. Lydia nodded herself between Windhelm's cold weather, and even colder denizens, she'd had quite her fill of this place. She followed along with the other two as they made their way back down the lengthy passageway that led to the city's primary gates.

Way up above them, the sky was still illuminated with light, but not as much as before. Clouds were still present to keep the sun hidden, but the amount of light that managed to shine through still gave a vague idea that it was reaching closer to the horizon. The day really had flown by, and it really did feel like so much had happened! Attacked by strangers, met a mage from before on the road, her thane learned a new Word, fought and slew another dragon, hailed as heroes, even brought before and honored by a Hold's Jarl! Lydia could scarcely contain a deep feeling of giddiness within her; what more could a warrior like her ask for?

Her internal joy diminished a little as she recalled what their current goal was now. They were returning to Whiterun. Was it for a return trip home? Perhaps. But also in Lydia's mind, she felt the... the need, to return home. To see Jarl Balgruuf again. It was not only for familiarity's sake; for some reason those last words that Jarl Ulfric had relayed to her and her specifically had still not left her head. The more she heard them within, the more... unease she felt.

The three neared the main gates, where a pair of guards stood in position on opposite sides. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones that could be seen standing in that area. Up on the left side, nearby close to the central tavern building, the drunkard of a man could be see swaying in place, a flaggon in hand. Except this time, he was not alone. Another man was standing beside him with a flaggon in his hand, not though not swaying in place nearly as much as Rolff was. As the three women neared the main gate, they ended up catching the attention of these two men, whose faces immediately turned to scowls upon seeing them.

Or rather, upon seeing Illia.

"There! There she i-is!" Rolff pointed his free hand towards the mage, "There's that Im-mperial s-spy!"The drunkard's companion leveled an equally aggressive glare at her. Illia instinctively held her right arm in front in recoil from the accusation.

"So, Imperial spy..." the other man practically spat out. His tone differed slightly from Rolff's in that he wasn't openly slurring his words when he spoke, "You dare to enter 'our' city, take 'our' wares, and even show your face before our glorious High King?!" By now, all three women were bristling from the overly harsh accusations being leveled towards them. Or rather at the mage specifically. Lydia's free hand even slowly drifted towards her sword hilt, and she was vaguely even aware of her own action.

"She's not a spy...!" Siffre suddenly declared. A small amount of vibrations filled the air directly in front of her, despite the louder tone of voice she used, "We were invited, by your own Stormcloak! Remember...?"

"Bah! As if our own brother to the cause would stoop so low as to cavorting with the enemy!" the not-so-drunk man declared. Rolff let out a cry mixed with a guttral shout as he raised his flaggon in the air.

"Probably brought here to b-be shown to the dungeons!" he slurred his words, "Come on Angre- Ang-... Angrenor! Let's take 'er there ourselves!" The man was barely standing still for more than a few seconds, yet his completely inebriated state was fully understood by his companion. The two of them sneered at Illia, before preparing to walk closer to her.

By now the three women were almost openly alarmed. These two drunkards had openly stated their 'less than friendly' intentions involving her, and yet no one was around to come to their rescue! Even looking behind her, Lydia could see that the two stationary guardsmen were still standing in place, watching. What were they doing? Their gazes were fixed upon them too, and yet they were simply watching. Seems like they were almost encouraging what was to come to happen!

Lydia's head snapped back forward, and her hand fully reached down for her sword hilt this time. The two men were not intimidated by the sight itself, but she wasn't planning on only this however. They may be drunks, but Oblivion damn anyone if they were to try anything!

"H-hey! No!" she suddenly heard Illia declare next to her, "I'll... You'd best leave me alone! In fact, I'll leave this city now! Be out of your lives and all that!" Her body twisted to face the main gates, but her gaze remained fixed on the still approaching men. The tone in her voice sounded unusually brave, yet the expression on her face was still very much uncertain; scared even.

"Oh-ho-ho! You hear that Rolff?" the companion Angrenor said, "The little spy thinks she's gonna get away!" Rolff snorted with laughter, his rough motions causing a bit of ale in his flagon to spill to the ground. They still continued to advance towards her! Damn it all, why were these guards not doing anything!? Lydia's head snapped back behind them, almost challenging their inactions with her stare alone. Yet they continued to stand in place. Even with their faces fully concealed by their helmets, Lydia could almost see faces beneath them; smiling, taunting faces...

That was it. Damn the consequences! If these guardsmen would not step in, then she would do so herself! Her right hand made to draw forth her sword completely, at least until a new sound could be heard.

"Oi you two! Clear out!" Lydia's focused anger dissipated in an instant. She, Siffre and Illia, and even the drunk men looked to the side to hear who had called out just now. They all beheld a Nord man approaching them. A man with a bald head, full beard, and fully dressed in studded armor with a horned piece of fur adorning the left shoulder. The man stared straight at the two men with complete disdain, and disappointment.

"Bah! What'chu want, Brunwulf?" Rolff slurred at the man. The glare he shot the man was less an intimidating sneer, but more out of general disgust.

"Back from slumming it with those gray-skins again?!" Angrenor added, "You dishonor your own people!" The man Brunwulf was not baited by their words. Instead, he maintained his look he leveled straight at them.

"And I said, that's enough out of you two!" he declared, taking a single step towards them, "There'll be no harassments! Not on my watch!" Rolff took many swaggering steps in place from his drunken state, but Angrenor took a single sober step backwards. A flash of surprise appeared on his face, though he quickly tried to replace it with his tough facade. Finally, a small grumble could be heard from his mouth before he made to turn around completely.

"Grrr, come on Rolff; we'll get 'em another time," he said, guiding the other man to follow him. The two men staggered off back towards the central tavern. The other four people keeping watch on them to make sure they had disappeared completely back indoors. Once they had vanished out of sight, Brunwulf turned back in the direction of the three women, though the glare was still present on his face for some reason.

"Were you planning on just standing there the whole time?" he suddenly declared. For an instant, Lydia thought the man was speaking directly to her, or her companions. Upon realization that the man was speaking to those behind her, she instead turned her head around to look at them. The two guardsmen instead began shuffling their feet in place, their heads turning to look away. Their nervousness was almost as clear to read as the feigned taunting faces Lydia herself had perceived earlier. Still, they gave no verbal comment themselves. Brunwulf himself gave a sigh of exasperation, before with a softened expression looking at the women finally, "Are you three alright?"

"Um, y-yes. Perfectly, now..." Illia said, "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Siffre added, "We'd actually dealt with them before. Well, one of them anyway..."

"Well for what it's worth, I hope you'll accept an apology from me on 'their' behalf," Brunwulf said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder and towards the tavern hall, "Anyways, safe journey, Sword-Sisters. And you too, Imperial." A simple wave of his hand, nods of acknowledgement from the women, and the two groups were parting ways soon after. The three turned to face the main gates, and the two guardsmen still standing in place. Their helmet-covered gazes still somehow suggested a change in demeanor, even with how they no longer shifted in place. Lydia could barely contain a smirk of satisfaction from their change in attitude, yet somehow managed to hold a neutral expression. The guardsmen rather hastily reached out to grip their respective handles of the massive gates and open them, allowing the three women to step through.

The three had stepped no more than three feet outside before they were immediately hit by a hard gust of icy wind.

"Ugh! Not again...!" Illia could be heard saying as she brought her hood back up to cover her head. The three began their lengthy walk back down the long stone bridge that would take them back to 'solid land' as it were. As they walked out, Illia glanced behind her one more time at the stone-cold city they advanced away from, "The sooner we're gone from here, the better..."

"I very much agree," Lydia said. A quick glance towards Illia out of the corner of her eye had her wishing that she herself had a hood. Skyrim wind just had to be its coldest in Windhelm it seemed.

"Well still, we've been restocked with supplies, coin," Siffre said, "So that's something at least... And Whiterun has to be the least bit warmer too."

"Yes, that is true," Lydia said. Thoughts of returning home filled her with a very faint warm feeling in her being yet again.

"Well, I hope this Whiterun is much better than this place..." Illia added. The three resumed walking in relative silence for the rest of the length of the bridge, before finally reaching the end. Having stepped up to the slant in elevation and down to the natural ground, the three women looked around at what lay before them. Just like before, the carriage driver was still sitting upon his wooden carriage with his horse, while the two stable workers off to the left side continued to do their menial tasks. Unlike before though, there were no more Khajiit to be seen around here anymore. A small frown appeared on each of their faces at the implication as to what could've happened.

Siffre led the way as the three approached the carriage driver, who looked down to see them approach.

"Hail there, need a ride?" he asked.

"Yes, we'd like to go to Whiterun..." the Dragonborn said. She gave a quick glance towards Lydia who nodded slightly.

"I can do that. Fee'll be twenty gold..." He held out an open hand towards her, and Siffre reached down to the coin purse she held on her. After a moment of counting however, she looked back up at Lydia.

"Lydia... I'm short five coins; can you spare any?" she asked. The housecarl then retrieved five coins from her own purse and gave them to Siffre, who added them to her amount in her possession. The total amount was then handed off to the driver.

"Well, climb in back, and we'll be off." With that, the three women made their way to the rear of the carriage. Siffre climbed up and in first, followed by Lydia. As the latter was taking her seat, she looked back to see that Illia appeared to be hesitant; she wasn't climbing up directly behind the two of them. Instead, she was eyeing the carriage itself with a strange look on her face.

"What are you doing there? Climb up!" she urged.

"Er- right! Right! I just... yeah..." the Imperial stammered before finally reaching up to pull herself aboard. Once she and the Nord women were situated, they set their food rations down beside them on their respective sides, allowing their arms to be free once again. The driver clicked his tongue, and the cart slowly began to roll forward and away from the stables.

Lydia took a moment to stretch her arms from her body in front of her. It had been a long day, it seemed like only now felt like the first time she was simply allowed to sit down and take a breath or two.

"I... I've never seen or... sat in one of these... carriages before..." Illia said, drawing the attention of the other two.

"There's a lot of things you haven't done before, aren't there?" Lydia inquired. The mage could only reply with a sheepish look, unable to think of any correct response.

"I guess you and me both, Illia..." Siffre spoke up, "I've not been in Skyrim that long myself, you see."

"You haven't?" Siffre shook her head. Lydia found her gazes looking back and forth between her thane and their mage companion. She was made aware now that she had a bit of an advantage in terms of general Skyrim knowledge. At least in terms of what a common Nord was to know of the mother land.

"This is a big country..." she spoke, "One that I have been curious to know all the more about, outside of Whiterun anyway..."

"Whiterun..." Siffre said, "It feels so long since I've been there..."

"So, what all can be found at this Whiterun?" Illia asked.

"It's one of the best cities you'll ever find...!" Lydia found herself speaking up in a lighter, almost excited tone, "The kind people... the sights, like Jorrvaskr... the GIldergreen... honor-bound guardsmen keeping the city safe... You couldn't ask for more!"

"And the Jarl himself... he was a good man, I remember..." Siffre added to which Lydia nodded a little eagerly in agreement. Illia's eyes watched in awe as the city was described more and more. The mage even seemed to be leaning forward ever so slightly as she listened. She seemed to be listening in with genuine curiosity and interest.

"And are the people there... well, are they... 'friendly'?" she asked. Lydia tilted her head a little.

"How do you mean?"

"You know, are they 'friendly' to... outsiders?" Illia's eyes narrowed as she struggled to find the right words, "To... people like me?"

"But of course; Jarl Balgruuf wouldn't so casually turn away visitors to his city," Lydia replied with sincerity, "Rest assured, it's most definitely not like Windhelm..."

"I guess I'll have to see..." the Imperial said.

"I was allowed into the city my first time, despite not speaking at all back then..." Siffre added, "So I don't think you'll have anything to worry about..." Illia nodded one more time before turning her head to her rations bag beside her. She unwrapped the cloth that kept the entire pack sealed and pulled forth the first food item within: a red apple. She wasted little time in crunching upon the fruit a little quickly.

Lydia glanced to her right side towards the path that the cart was rolling along. They would be passing up and along a rise in the ground soon enough from the looks of it. Hopefully they would be leaving behind this icy wind as well. Whiterun was never known to have icy winds and snow days, so she would definitely know when they'd be crossing Holds...


The sound of hooves clopping against the ground could be heard nearing the Windhelm stables. A palomino horse trotted its way upon the main pathway, finally coming to a stop at the command of its rider. The horse then shook its head, the many strands of its mane fluttering, while the rider herself stepped down off the beast.

Galadriel's feet planted down on the ground, and she almost instantly regretted coming here. She was not stepping through any snow at the moment, yet her feet were nearly chilled to the bone. Her shoes were simple leather, made to resist the extreme cold of. The problem lay in when her shoes were submerged for long within the snow itself, making them damp in addition. Hopefully she would not be trudging through any thick snowdrifts anytime soon.

"Alright Frost, this way..." she said, taking her horse's reins in hand and leading him along towards the stable hands. The one Wood Elf standing about looked up and regarded her, as well as her horse.

"Hail, Sister-Bosmer," the Wood Elf said, "Not many of our kind pass through here, eh?"

"With this weather, I can see why," Galadriel agreed. She handed the reins to him, and he took them in his hands, "Hey, I'm looking for a man named Torbjorn Shatter-Shield. You heard of him?" The Wood Elf looked back at her with a strange look on his face. A face that was a mix of fear, and disgust.

"Have I heard of him? Yeah, I've heard of him alright..." he spoke with equal disdain, "Head of Clan Shatter-Shield, one of the richest of families here in Windhelm..."

"You don't sound too fond of him..." Galadriel casually noted.

"Hm, you must not be from around here," the man replied, "Otherwise you'd know: Torbjorn hates us 'lower races'; you know, people who aren't Nord, like he and his kind. Share's Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak's views, he does. He even oversees the group of Argonians stuck out on the dock, barely paying them minimum wages." The Wood Elf shook his head, "So no... I'm not particularly 'fond' of him. I don't care if he lost a family member, it's not like that changed anything with him at all."

Galadriel listened to the man describe the Nord in question. He was sounding like a right asshole, lording over people less fortunate financially than he was. And from his standing, it sounded like he was in a perfect position to be able to do it in the first place. All because he had the money, he controlled coin flow, and he thus had power.

The very person Galadriel needed to find.

"I see... I guess I'll keep that in mind then," she said, "Any idea where he would be?"

"Huh? Short of being at his clan home, I hear he'd usually drink his sorrows at Candlehearth Hall, very center of town," the Wood Elf pointed a finger towards across the bridge towards the massive Windhelm gates, "But you're not actually planning to speak with him, are you?"

"Candlehearth Hall, you say?" the woman said, completely ignoring his latter inquiry, "Thanks for the information." She reached a hand up to stroke the face of her horse a couple times, "Be good Frost. I'll be back soon, alright?" The horse gave no verbal reply but did seem to lean its head into her hand more. The gesture in itself put a smile on Galadriel's face, until she reluctantly had to pull her hand away to step back.

The Wood Elf then began her trek along the frost-covered stone bridge that would take her to Windhelm. As she walked, she gripped the outer edges of her arms as she shivered. The sun was definitely beginning to disappear this time of day, which would probably only make things even colder. It wasn't quite as cold as Winterhold, but cold in Eastmarch was somehow of its own breed of cold. It was a wonder how anyone could stand this sort of weather, the Nords especially. She tugged the long sleeves over her arms further to protect her arms, as well as drew up the hood to keep the wind from whipping the back of her neck. It didn't stop it completely from freezing, but it was better than nothing.

As she walked, a couple of blue-garbed soldiers passed her by as they were walking away from the city. Their helmet-gazes held on her for a moment as they passed but did little beyond that. It suited Galadriel just fine; her intentions for coming to this forsaken frozen city did not call for entanglements with the local guardsmen. Not yet anyway...

Finally, she came to a stop just before the small number of steps and the large, imposing doors that led into the city. The tops of these doors themselves seemed to look down upon her, judging her, intimidating her. But Galadriel shook her head. If any part of her were to be judged, it would not by Nord or anything their people made. She reached forward, took hold of one of the door handles, and tugged.

Or rather, attempted to. With a quick groan of effort, she quickly realized her usual strength wasn't enough to budge the door. Thus, she put a little more pull into it while also planting her feet more firmly to prevent slipping. Finally, the door in her hands budged enough so that it began to slide out with a resounding creaking noise. A crack formed between this door and the untouched door and Galadriel quickly slipped through, allowing the door to close behind her with a boom.


-So yeah, there was me coming down from the high that was this year's Christmas. Or it could be the fact that I'm juggling at least three fanfiction projects at once. Whatever the reason, I'm working as hard and diligently as I can with what I can do! Stay cool everyone and keep on reading! -