The carriage ride was rough as Inigo and the Jarls passed through the mountain pass revealing Haemar's Shame. The roads were rough, and wolves scattered at the carriage's approach, ducking behind large stones.

A Troll jumped up and down and roared loudly, attempting to drop some stones off the peak above to crush the carriage out of pure spite, but Inigo's arrow met its third eye, taking out the infamous creature.

"Nice shot!" Ulfric expressed as he watched the troll collapse like a sack of dung. "I can see why Cura esteemed your talents so much."

Inigo was elated, feeling himself flutter at the Jarl's praise. Though, now he wondered just what Cura and Ulfric had spoken about on some of those days during their time of relaxation in Windhelm.

Cura frequented the Palace of Kings in those days, having lunch there with the Jarl; she hadn't hidden it from her friends. Though, knowing her relationship to Ulfric, it made sense to Inigo why she would want to spend time with him. He was her Father, after all. If Inigo could have the chance to see his Argonian stepfather again, he would take it, himself. Or to see his stepmother again, or his brother Fergus again.

The thought made him feel a tad morose.

"So, Ulfric, speaking about Cura... you said she was your daughter?" Jarl Korir called attention to what Laila had told him as they awaited the carriage.

The Bear nodded and leaned back in his seat as the carriage took to a rising incline. "Yes. Yes, she was. There's no reason to keep it hidden any longer."

Jarl Korir cringed as he recounted his cruel attitude towards her in the past. "Well, she was a kind young lass. She and Inigo saved my city... or, what remains of my city as it is. Some madness was going on at that damned College and it spilled into my streets."

"The Eye of Magnus," Inigo explained. "a Thalmor agent was going to use it to rid Tamriel of men and us beastfolk both. And the 'lesser races of elves,' and especially Bretons and hybrids. A long story short, he was an odious, stinking heap of troll dung."

Jarl Skald, Laila, and Ulfric laughed aloud at his commentary, but Jarl Korir was surprised to hear that. "So it really wasn't the Mages who caused it?"

"Heck no!" Inigo declared. "We told you what happened back then. The mages went out of their way to contain it because it was dangerous! Mirabelle Ervine and Savos Aren lost their lives on account of Ancano and the Eye of Magnus!"

Jarl Laila scratched the side of her jaw with intrigue. "Inigo, you said that Riften was where you met the Dragonborn? Would you care to elaborate?"

"Certainly, my Jarl! Gather 'round, for I shall weave a tale of Inigo the Brave, a feline of courage and curiosity, whose path intersected with that of a mysterious woman named Cura within the cold stone walls of Riften Jail." Inigo rubbed his hands together with excitement. He needed to keep his tongue and mind as sharp as his blade, after all.

"Ooh!" Laila responded excitedly. Judging by Inigo's enthusiasm and choice of words, it was bound to be interesting.

"Once upon a cold midday, Inigo the Brave leaned against the cold, damp stone wall of Riften Jail, his eyes tracing the cracks in the floor. The air smelled of mildew and desperation. His keen nose, sharper than a dragon's claw, detected an unfamiliar scent - a blend of sorrow and desperation. Following the olfactory trail, his eyes glanced upwards from his insect-wriggling jar to see an unfamiliar sight." Inigo interlocked his fingers. "There, amidst the dingy shadows, sat a young woman - a vision of beauty with tear-streaked cheeks. Her race remained a mystery, but her emerald eyes held many secrets. Inigo, being the gallant soul he was, approached her. Vigilant Cura, the Dragonborn, stood before him. Her reputation preceded her: a fierce warrior, a champion of justice. And now, she was locked up like a common criminal. She sat huddled on her cot, her eyes darting around the cell. Her face was bruised, her clothes tattered. Inigo wondered what she had done to end up here."

Ulfric was paying attention well as Inigo recounted the tale. Cura had told him a bit of how they had met - but it was interesting, hearing it from another perspective.

""What's wrong?" he asked, his voice echoing off the walls. "What are you doing here?"" Inigo continued. "Cura looked up, her eyes wide." he switched into a more high-pitched voice as he narrated his events for Cura. ""I've been framed," she whispered. "The Thieves Guild - they set me up. I don't even know what for.""

Jarl Laila cursed under her breath. "Damn the Thieves Guild."

"Inigo raised an eyebrow. "Thieves Guild, huh? They're a slippery bunch. But why would they target you?"" Inigo continued. ""I am not quite certain,"" Cura said, "They stole away my Amulet - I want to rip them to pieces!""

"As she should have." Ulfric crossed his arms.

"And then Inigo said to her, "Wait. I know you. You were an old friend of mine! I seek your vengeance for how terribly i have wronged you!"" Inigo reenacted his repentance dramatically. ""Strike me down! Take your revenge!" ...You see, in Inigo's past he had betrayed a friend during the darkest era of his life, and killed them for a reward. It is a guilt that he still carries with him to this day; a bell that cannot be unrung."

The carriage was heavy in that moment, but Inigo continued,

""No. I am not the person you remember, but maybe fate brought us together for a reason. If you come with me, we can make things right, together." Cura said to the dejected Khajiit." Inigo recalled. "And so, in that dim, cold cell, Inigo and the Dragonborn formed an alliance and retrieved her Amulet from the Thieves with Mjoll's help. I cannot help but think that the Thieves are kicking themselves for not keeping such a valuable Amulet now." Inigo smiled. "Together, they would unravel the mysterious path ahead, clear their names, and maybe - just maybe - find a glimmer of friendship in the darkest of places. As for mistaking her for an old friend? Well, sometimes fate had a sense of humor."

"That's for sure." Jarl Ulfric admitted at the end of that. He pointed a finger beyond Jarl Skald' head in the direction of Helgen, which they were now passing through. "There it is; Helgen. A bitter reminder, but a sobering one, indeed. A reminder of where it all began, I suppose. My failed execution, the Dragon attack, Cura's adventure, the reinvigorated turmoil... I don't relish returning to this place."

Inigo observed the cold, snow-covered ruins of a city. "I wonder... what was Helgen like when it was a normal city?"

"It wasn't anything remarkable like Windhelm or Riften, that's for sure." Jarl Laila stated.

"Did Helgen have a Jarl?" Inigo asked.

"Yes; Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn - and then those Imperial cuckolds replaced him with his nephew. But we got him back on the throne." Jarl Skald said with a great deal of bitterness and sarcasm. "It only cost me my position in Dawnstar."

"Wait... Dengeir of Stuhn?" Inigo was surprised to hear the man's name. He couldn't help but wonder if Cura agreed to Falkreath because of the man's devotional name, or perhaps it was a coincidence and she knew nothing about it. It was intriguing, to say the least.

"Yes, that blabbering old drunk. What of it?" Jarl Skald sneered. He then clenched both of his arms. "Ugh! How much longer must we traverse these stupid roads? Someone needs to pave them properly. The throttle is making me sick to my stomach!"

"Easy, Skald, easy. I can see Riverwood from here." Jarl Korir pointed as they descended a natural incline and ran around a couple of large stones. The grass was verdant again in these parts, and Inigo turned to see three Standing Stones adorning a cliff's edge as they turned by the river.

"Ah, the Thief, the Mage, and the Warrior." Jarl Laila named them as she noticed Inigo's interest. "Stones that match the stars above. They're believed to have mystical powers, if you believe those old wives' tales."

It was interesting, indeed. "I will not write it off - after all, I am only blue because of a lunar phenomenon." Inigo said plainly, recounting the connection between his own people and celestial bodies.

"Actually, I am quite curious about that, regarding Khajiit -" Ulfric began. "What is it about the moons that causes you to be different? There are some of you who appear to look like elves, and some who are simply cats. Why is that?"

"We call it the influence of Ja-Kha'jay - the Lunar Lattice god, his two aspects are Mara's Tear, Jode - and Stendarr's Sorrow, Jone - you know them as Masser and Secunda too." Inigo tried to explain. "When all Khajiit are born, we begin as little cubs - only when we grow older we look different. We also grow much faster than men or mer, so our forms become apparent very quickly."

"Hm. That is quite interesting." Jarl Ulfric admitted. He'd heard odd things before, but the Khajiit were an enigma, even unto the merfolk, so it was no surprise that he would be stumped by them as well.

"They're bloody elves, Ulfric." Jarl Korir stated plainly. "Wood Elves with fur."

Jarl Laila shrugged. "I don't see a problem with it. The gods do what they will on Nirn."

"You're missing the point. We're being represented by an elf! Us, the Stormcloaks!" Jarl Korir barked.

"My steward is a Wood Elf. My Court Wizard is a Wood Elf. Get over yourselves." Jarl Laila snapped at Korir. "That blind hatred is what kept peace out of our world for millennia."

"That ignorance of yours, Jarl Laila, with all due respect, is what got man enslaved by mer in the first place." Jarl Korir declared. "It took Saint Alessia and the Nord Kings to free mankind from their grasp."

"Aye - making peace with the Empire and the Thalmor is a grave mistake. I don't want to see my grandchildren in chains over a stupid mistake!" Jarl Skald spouted ironically.

"What would you rather? We all tear each other to pieces and spare the Daedra the trouble?" Inigo stated plainly.

Author's Note: For this - "Skyrim OST - The Streets of Whiterun" Thanks for reading :)

They came upon the main road going through Riverwood, and Inigo saw the Sleeping Giant Inn. He remembered their dealings with Delphine there so long ago, and wondered to himself if she was going to be all right. What was her condition like at the moment?

The quaint hamlet radiated tranquility. Blacksmith Alvor was instructing his teenage daughter in the art of metalwork, while a young Nord dashed down the side street, accompanied by an aged dog, embarking on a morning run. Sven and Camilla strolled toward the Inn, Camilla cradling a child. Following close behind, Lucan grumbled about the rising prices.

In the distance, Gerdur, Ralof's sister, was guiding a new batch of logs to the mill for sawing, as Faendal, seated close by, honed newly-crafted arrows in preparation for his upcoming hunt.

Inigo noticed also, that there were expansions made to the town - they had walls now, tracing around and up to the rivers from the cliffside. There was a Guard Barracks now built onto the mountainside with wooden steps that descended to the main path. He wondered just how long it had been since he'd set foot in Riverwood.

When Inigo saw the growing community and happy people, it only strengthened his resolve. This was why he was doing what he was doing; to keep them all alive. It wasn't about politics either which way; it was about preservation of all that was good; of beauty. Things that were often rare in this life, but very precious once found.

He understood how Cura felt - she would give her life if it meant keeping these people and this beautiful town on Nirn. Perhaps that was the love that transcended Alduin himself.

The Jarls continued to bicker amongst themselves as they crossed the bridge over the river and took the northern path near the winding river. Inigo could see part of the famous Bleak Falls Barrow, and wondered what it was like for Cura there. Her first dungeon delve. He'd heard the story before, but he was annoyed that he couldn't have been there when it took place.

He wondered just how stressed Carcette must have been, and chuckled. The leash she'd had on Cura in those days was so tight he was surprised Cura could have even used the Thu'um without suffocating.

Descending the mountainside by the river, they were greeted by the hazy golden sun revealing the sprawling hills of Whiterun below. In the distance, the sight of Whiterun's walls and the great, towering silhouette of Dragonsreach provided a comforting view to Inigo's eyes.

He was uncertain to what it was that came over him, but he began to tear up when the wave of nostalgia came ultimately crashing down on top of him. The sprawling fields stretched out their arms as they descended upon them, turning left by the bridge and drifting past the Honningbrew Meadery, and by the Farmsteads to their left.

It almost felt like home.

Inigo stood up abruptly in his seat and outstretched his arms with excitement, closing his eyes to the sun and allowing the cool breeze to envelop him, and he sobbed loudly, "I LOVE YOU, WHITERUUUUUUN!"

After all the stress he'd undergone, it was more than a welcome sight. The Jarls looked confused at the moment, but Ulfric waved it off. He understood where Inigo was coming from. No doubt it was a place full of memories and fun exploits with Cura.

The Jarl of Eastmarch narrowed his eyes as he saw the faint shadows of carriages moving into the Stables far ahead. On the carriages, the familiar red, black, and gold colours of the Empire's banners flew. "Huh. I guess Tullius had the gall to show up after all. I'm impressed."

Jarl Skald sneered. "Hmph. They'd better bend over backwards to give me my city back, or I ain't agreeing to nothin'!"

Jarl Laila scanned the crowd ahead of them. "The Empire... I didn't think I'd be seeing them this close up - at least not under peaceful circumstances."

Jarl Korir shivered lightly. "How do we know we aren't walking into an ambush? Whiterun is aligned with them - we should turn the carriage around. They could decide to execute us all here! What a stupid idea!"

Inigo calmed them. "Look - they see us coming and they are not drawing their weapons. They are walking up the pathway into the city. I think that if they wanted to execute you now they would just do it."

"Maybe your presence is deterring them?" Jarl Laila proposed. "They wouldn't dare kill the known friend to the Dragonborn! That would... I really think that would destroy their supporters' confidence in the Empire, if they were willing to do such a heinous thing."

"I guess we're off to a good start, then." Ulfric said as their carriage slowly came to a stop near the stables. Upon closer inspection, he could definitely see the Empire's logo on the banners, and he even saw another carriage that had been obscured by the sunlight - one with a black tapestry with a golden eagle emblazoned on it with ornate trimming. "The damned Thalmor have arrived, too. All right. Show them no fear, Skald. Korir. Laila. We're goin' in there with the ferocity of the North."

It was time.

Inigo descended the carriage with the Jarls, and the Housecarls descended the carriage behind them. They began to walk up the pathway, through the arch under the palisade, and over the curving path.

Inigo saw the familiar Whiterun Guards standing on the walls in their golden raiment with crossed arms. One of them gave him a cordial nod, recognizing the friend of the Dovahkiin. The air was full of tension, but Inigo was glad to know that he was welcome in the city, as always.


Jarl Balgruuf sat upon his throne, the atmosphere in his throne room heavy with tension. The prospect of hosting a war council within his castle walls was far from pleasing, but recent events had led him to consider that perhaps the gods had deemed it necessary. "Perhaps it took a Daedric invasion, of all things. for Skyrim to finally realize we need to unite." he whispered to himself, eyes fixating on the grand doors at the hall's end, down the steps.

Irileth looked to her Jarl. "Do not worry, Jarl Balgruuf - I will be watching them - all of them - with the utmost vigilance. Frankly, I don't trust any of them."

"Then it is a good thing that you aren't the arbiter to this." Balgruuf remarked frankly. "We need someone who can keep us all on the right track - that sort of cynicism is the last thing we need right now."

Hrongar and Proventus stood nearby, as they always had, by either side of the forum.

"These really are strange times we're living in. The Dragons, the Dragonborn, the Vampires, the Mythic Dawn of all things, and Mehrunes Dagon's return." Proventus shook his head. "If the gods have a grand scheme for us all, I can hardly imagine that this was how it was supposed to go."

"Let the Daedra come. They'll never see my blade comin'." Hrongar threatened posthumously, puffing out his chest aggressively.

Proventus nodded. "I will fight with everything I have when the time comes. I just hope the Stormcloaks can see eye-to-eye with us on this."

"You and me both, Proventus," Jarl Balgruuf responded. "for all my career I've tried to do what was best for Whiterun... but... perhaps it's time to spread out further, and do what's best for Skyrim. Let's just see what these barbarians have to propose."

"Just, if I may remind you, my Jarl; Ulfric can use the Thu'um, like the Dragonborn could." Proventus reminded him of the atrocity which kicked off the recent stage of the rebellion to begin with. "It would be wise to have many guards between you."

Jarl Balgruuf shook his head. "No; I will face him like a man. To do that would show him weakness - give him power. He must know before we even begin that I am no craven. And that neither is the Empire and those who side with it." His fingers clenched around the armrests of his throne for a moment as tension released and he cleared his throat. "If Inigo can manage to keep things in check there, I think this peace council could be more fruitful than the last one."

"Do you think that either side will listen to him, my Jarl?" Proventus asked honestly. "Inigo is a Khajiit, of all things. Normally here in Skyrim - "

"Yes, Inigo is a Khajiit. How astute of you, Proventus." Jarl Balgruuf remarked dryly. Of course everyone knew what race he was: it was extremely apparent when looking at his unmistakable catlike features. "Need I remind you that the Dovahkiin was half-Elf, half-Nord, closer to the Bretonfolk than to us? I'm beginning to think that this narrow-mindedness was what allowed the Stormcloaks to flourish and to strike fear into people. Maybe the gods want us to put aside this pettiness."

Proventus agreed with him. "Of course. Perhaps some day Tamriel will no longer be the Arena, but instead a continent of peace. Though, I doubt it personally."

"Our real problem is the Dominion, but if we have to put that aside for a time we shall." Jarl Balgruuf reminded him of who the true enemy was, behind most of the slaughter of mankind. "No doubt the Thalmor even realize how dangerous Mehrunes Dagon is."

As if on cue, the large double doors creaked open, revealing an entourage of Jarls from the Imperial side of the conflict, led by General Tullius and Legate Rikke. Jarl Elisif walked the carpet's length directly at their side, and behind them were Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone of Morthal, Jarl Siddgeir who had been in exile, and Jarl Igmund of Markarth, all accompanied by their respective Housecarls.

Behind them came in Elenwen of the Thalmor Embassy, accompanied by Rulindil and Ondolemar. The Thalmor looked out of place there in Whiterun, and their displeasure resounded loudly with each footstep.

Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn, of Falkreath came by himself with his Housecarl, and he was unhappy to be summoned here, and to see his pompous nephew's face again.

And finally, behind them the door opened again, revealing Inigo the Brave, Jarl Laila Law-Giver at his left side, and Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak at his right. Behind them were Jarl Korir of Winterhold, and the ever-complaining exiled Jarl Skald the Elder of Dawnstar.

"This city smells like flowers and stale water! And the pollen makes my eyes itch. I hate this time of year." Skald whined as they walked in, only to be hushed once again by Jarl Korir.

They got the attention of the Imperial Supporters and the Thalmor both, and Elenwen's eyes met Ulfric's. The two of them quickly averted their gaze and returned to the business at hand.

The groups gathered around the fire and stood before the forum. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater stood up from his throne and beckoned them. "Not in here; we're holding the Council outside. Come with me." He walked to the stairs east of his throne and began his ascent. The groups piled into somewhat organized lines and ascended the stairs behind him, creeping around the hearth and past the throne.

Jarl Laila whispered to Inigo, "Don't be anxious, Inigo - we're all behind you." she quickened her steps to meet the larger group, and then Ulfric came up beside him as they reached halfway up the flight of stairs.

Without warning, Ulfric slipped something long, awkward and somewhat hefty into Inigo's right hand. "In most Councils they say the one who holds the mace keeps the authority. In this case, it works out for the best even in Skyrim. Best go with that, eh?" He walked ahead, leaving Inigo confused for a second.

Inigo looked at what was placed in his hand, and it was Cura's Elven Mace. A mace, in many Imperial courts, as Ulfric had said, symbolized the authority of the one who held it to make decisions. In this case, it was the mace that belonged to the Dragonborn, who he was representing. "My friend, give me your strength." he whispered to the familiar cudgel as he followed everybody up the stairs.

Jarl Balgruuf had his men open the doors to the Great Balcony - the site where they had sprung the trap on Odahviing some time ago, when every faction which knew her came to Cura's aid on that fateful day. They had rallied old friends, the Skyguard, the Companions, the Dawnguard, the Vigil of Stendarr, the College of Winterhold, and even the Whiterun Guard themselves to help Cura subdue the beast and protect the city.

It was kind of fun, if not a little tense.

Jarl Balgruuf led them all to a long table which sat on the balcony, basking in the sunlight. There was much food and wine available for everybody. It seemed more a cordial dinner than a business dealing, but Inigo quickly realized that it was a way for Balgruuf to accommodate either side and try to maintain peace. He extended both of his arms cordially, gesturing the width of the table. "Come, now - let's have a seat and see what ideas we can come up with here."

Proventus and Hrongar stood at either side of the table and Irileth stood next to Jarl Balgruuf.

Jarl Elisif glared miserably at Ulfric - she was holding something back; it was very obvious from the look in her eyes. She stared him down with the disdain of a Horker upon the approaching shorelines.

Elenwen took care to stand opposite to Ulfric, so as to keep their vindictive facade alive.

General Tullius took to the end of the table with his back to the balcony walls, and Ulfric took the vulnerable position of his back directly facing the entrance door. Inigo and Jarl Balgruuf took to the ends of the table, and the other Jarls took seats next to their respective alliances.

The Housecarls all stood nearby, lined up against the balcony walls, assuming the role of security guards with the Whiterun Guards, though they stood on the sides of their respective Jarls.

Ondolemar and Rulindil positioned themselves behind Elenwen, intermittently exchanging glares with Ulfric.

Jarl Balgruuf turned to Inigo and raised a tankard of Alto Wine, which he poured generously. "Before we begin, I would like to dedicate a toast to Inigo, our Arbiter here, who stands in the name of the Dragonborn. Our dear friend Cura, who perished against these monsters who are a blight upon the land."

When she heard it, Jarl Elisif gasped. "So it is true... the Dragonborn really is dead. We're finished."

General Tullius shook his head. "It falls to us to defend the land, Elisif. That's why we're here - to advocate for cooperation."

"With the Stormcloaks... I can't believe this is what it's come to, General." Jarl Elisif sounded incredibly sad as she said it. "My poor Torygg... I can't do this, General. I can't stand with that - that monster!"

The words of Stendarr rung in Inigo's mind: Speak to the wounded, heal their wounds, and remind them that they are all children of Tamriel. Inigo wrapped his hands around Cura's mace. "What would you say, my friend?" he muttered to himself. He was never raised under Stendarr's teachings so it was tougher to grasp.

His catlike eyes held both empathy and determination. He had seen the scars of war etched upon Elisif's face - the pain of loss, the weight of responsibility. When he finally felt the words come to him, they flowed out like honey. "My lady, I know the ache that gnaws at your soul. Torygg was a noble king, and his passing was a tragedy that Skyrim shall not soon forget."

Elisif glanced up, her gaze meeting Inigo's. "You speak true, Inigo. Ulfric's treachery shattered our land. His Thu'um tore through my Palace ripping my dear Torygg to pieces..."

"It was a terrible thing - and the circumstances surrounding it even worse... but you would do worse to Torygg if you let Skyrim die. He loved this land. He loved you." Inigo appealed to her. "If Mehrunes Dagon's forces were to storm in and kill you, Torygg would be haunted in Sovngarde."

Elisif's fingers traced the intricate patterns on the dish in front of her. "What would you have me do, Inigo? Ulfric's rebellion tears at our unity. How can we stand together when our very hearts bleed?"

"Ulfric may be a big, angry bag of wind, but he did what he did for the same reason all Nords fight - for a purpose." Inigo explained. "His purpose has always been to defend this land. You do not have to support him - just aid the Stormcloaks in their fight. We need his strength, his warriors, to stand against the Daedric tide."

Elisif hesitated, torn between duty and bitterness. "And what of Torygg's memory? Can I forgive Ulfric for the Shout that stole my husband's life?"

Inigo spoke softly. "Forgiveness is a heavy burden, my lady. But remember this: Torygg's spirit watches over us. He would want Skyrim to endure, to thrive. We honor his memory not by clinging to vengeance, but by safeguarding our land."

The Jarl's gaze shifted to the land beneath the gallery, where sunlight bathed the golden fields. She pondered on his point, and interlocked her fingers. "A fragile truce, Inigo. But if it could save our people, I shall consider it."

Jarl Ulfric looked to Jarl Elisif with an expression of remorse. "I am glad you will agree to cooperate, in spite of how you feel about me. No amount of water on Nirn could wash your husband's blood from my hands, I understand that. Nothing I could ever do could atone properly for what I have done - except perhaps by guarding this land."

Legate Rikke looked at General Tullius, stunned. "Ulfric, remorseful? Huh. Maybe it really is the end of the world."

General Tullius was skeptical, himself. "Indeed. It seems a convenient change of heart to have, now that you need our help, Ulfric. You've caused us a lot of trouble, I trust you know that. For the last four years our land has been in turmoil due to the Dragons, and conveniently, you took advantage to rekindle the fight in key places. We thwarted you at every turn."

Jarl Siddgeir and Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn glared at each other hatefully.

"You only got Falkreath because of a bum deal. Because we had a Dragonborn who had the wisdom of a gnat and the knowledge of our landscape on par with a Falmer" Siddgeir spat at his uncle. His insult of Cura did not go unnoticed, earning him hateful glares from Elenwen, Ulfric, Balgruuf, Idgrod, and Inigo all.

"My friend made that bargain because it was the best way to make peace at the time." Inigo snapped at the snobbish Jarl.

"And the urchin replaced me with Brina Merilis of all people. I guess I should have been nicer to her. Maybe then she would have booted Laila instead." Jarl Skald admitted.

Jarl Laila shot him a dirty look. "You're all heart, Skald. Frankly I'm glad she had the sense to not jeopardize our position."

"Whatever happens, we are but debris being pushed along the cosmic tide. I remember you, and your friend fondly from the time you saved Morthal from Movarth's mischievous machinations." Jarl Idgrod looked at Inigo comfortingly with reassurance. "The Dragonborn was chosen by the gods for a purpose. Anything Akatosh designs has a reason behind it - we lack the wisdom to properly discern it. I too believe that you were selected for a reason as well, Inigo; to mend the gaps between us. When we look into the fires of war, there is nothing but destruction which we can see."

They all stared at Idgrod as though she were a madwoman - which, under any other circumstances, was a plausible assumption to make - but in this case she was very much in the right.

Jarl Korir stared at Idgrod for that brief moment and then looked to Ulfric, Skald, Laila, and then to Inigo. "You know... if I am being honest... I remember the old Skyrim. The Skyrim of my father. Times were tough then, but we could always rely on shipments of food from the south. Since this war began things have only gotten harder and harder for us."

Jarl Siddgeir sneered. "You're telling me. Long ago my uncle and I were close. And now we despise each other. He should have been grateful that I let him stay in the Hold as a Thane. No sooner did he warm the throne then he cast me out of my home."

"Because you're a puppet of the damned Empire. Always have been. That's why I banished you from the hold!" Dengeir bleated at his nephew. "And now here I am, sitting at a table with these damned Imperial Loyalists surrounding me. Besides, I always was the better Jarl."

"Why I never-!" before Siddgeir could retort, Inigo raised his hand. He realized swiftly that many of the matters at hand were personal in nature, keeping things back.

"How are you a better Jarl than Siddgeir if you do not mind me asking?" Inigo said.

"For one thing, I won't empty Falkreath's coffers to buy myself fine clothes an' expensive mead." Siddgeir rolled his eyes and sneered at that remark, and Dengeir continued, "For another, I won't get mixed up with criminals and other sorts who take advantage of the honest folk for profit. I might be old, but I haven't forgotten that a Jarl's first duty is to look after his people."

Jarl Laila raised her flagon. "Agreed. The people need us as much as we need them."

Jarl Idgrod nodded as well, and finished sipping her wine. "Aye. Something we've all lost sight of. While the war raged on, our people suffered."

"That war was necessary!" Jarl Skald bleated. "If we want to preserve our values, our culture, we have to fight for it!"

Elenwen raised her hand and spoke up with as much of a frigidity as one would come to expect. "Indeed; and yet it would appear Whiterun shares your sentiment, given the impossibly large statue of what I can only presume is Talos next to the Companions' hall. Would you please enlighten us about that?"

Proventus Avenici grew tense, and exchanged a glance from afar with Jarl Balgruuf. Of course they were going to see it.

"Well..."

"And that fool, Heimskr, was it? We will deal with him accordingly." Elenwen threatened. "But that will happen after this Daedric nonsense is dealt with. You will expect to hear more from us about these disturbing matters."

"Oh, why don't you go and choke on a Horker's Tail, you Thalmor witch?" Jarl Skald spat at Elenwen. "You elves have such a sweet spot for our mighty Talos! You'd think him slaughtering you all once would be enough to put you in your place!"

Ondolemar bit his lower lip and conjured a Bound Sword. "Would you care to come up to me and say that again, Nord scum?"

Skald stood up abruptly and slammed his hand on the table. "I hope Talos smites the lot of you Elven pigs!"

"Death to all mankind!" Ondolemar gave his sword a twirl, and before he could rush over, Elenwen pulled him back by the robe. "No, Ondolemar!" Ulfric and Inigo stood up quickly, and the Guards and Housecarls unsheathed their swords in a symphony of steel which cut the frozen air.

"You fool, stand down!" General Tullius barked at Inigo - he did not want to exacerbate the situation.

Inigo lowered the mace and spoke softly. "We will not use that sort of speech here in this meeting. Jarl Skald, if you cannot settle down, we will throw you out faster than a Bear stumbling down a hill."

"Me?" Skald held hands to his collarbone. "You dare tell me to be silent you filthy mongrel cat?"

Jarl Ulfric noticed the expression on Inigo's face, rose from his seat, strode over to Jarl Skald, and struck him on the back of the head. "Silence, Skald! We have heard quite enough from you!"

The Thalmor agents were surprised at how quickly Ulfric reprimanded one of his own, but General Tullius had no complaints on his end. Perhaps this was genuine, after all.

Skald rubbed his head. "Ouch! Look, Ulfric - I hate working with the Empire, but I'll do it because it's necessary - but to ask me to lay my principles aside and bend my ass over to the Thalmor?"

"It's my city, Skald." Jarl Balgruuf returned his attention to the offensive statue which lay at the heart of his territory. "And that Statue you think is Talos isn't him. It's Shezarr. Lorkhan. Piercing a sword into the snake."

"So instead of one Elf-hater it's another." Rulindil mused sarcastically.

Elenwen looked at Ulfric, and she knew immediately that Balgruuf was lying. Her eyes made that abundantly clear. "Well, Ulfric? What do you, in your infinite wisdom," she sneered at that word. "think we ought to do to move past this?"

'Give over Heimskr." Ulfric proposed. "He's the one who's been bleating like a Goat about Talos day-in, day-out, right?"

Jarl Balgruuf was strained by this idea. "What? Hand over one of my citizens to be tortured? Was what they did to the Gray-Manes not enough?"

Inigo spoke up. "The Gray-Manes are dead. They are no longer a threat to the Thalmor, nor an asset to the Stormcloaks. We do not need to bring them up here."

"Hmph. The Khajiit makes a good point." Elenwen conceded. "And this Heimskr - has he incited violence against your Empire?" she turned to General Tullius.

"Indeed - Jarl Balgruuf, if he has in any way tried to spur people to rise against the Imperial Throne, he may be charged with treason, at the best of times." Tullius stated plainly, heeding Elenwen's point.

"He's a madman in Priest's robes." Jarl Balgruuf tried to excuse him, though the miracle he'd witnessed was a testament against that. The way he saw it, this was a situation he could never win. He looked to Inigo. "Friend Inigo. What do you say we do, in the name of the Dragonborn?"

Inigo closed his eyes and weighed the options. Whiterun was pivotal for all sides of the board: they needed to maintain a steady alliance with the Empire to preserve the commercial trade in their lands, as well as serve a neutral zone for the Nords to gather for worship should Windhelm fall. They were a tourist place not only for people who worshipped Talos, but for Kynareth and Arkay, as well. And now, Stendarr on top of it all with the new chapel they'd constructed behind Arcadia's Cauldron.

They could not risk angering the Thalmor by allowing this Talos preacher to continue his work, even if they could pretend the statue itself was not of him. The Shrine standing before it needed to be removed, or there would be an ongoing fight here. In truth, Inigo had heard Heimskr's infamous speeches in the past with Cura. Most notably, "And what does the Empire do? Nothing! Nay, worse than nothing! The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor! Against its own people! So rise up! Rise up, children of the Empire! Rise up, Stormcloaks!"

Everybody in Whiterun has heard it. Many times. And many joined the cause as a result of it. There was no denying this truth.

Inigo looked at Ulfric, and then at Balgruuf. None of them wanted to give Heimskr to the Elves. But nobody said the road to cooperation was going to be a smooth one. Inigo looked inside himself and the idea of handing anybody over to the Thalmor didn't sit right with him. Even if Heimskr grated on his nerves.

But in the pursuit of working together to defeat the Daedra, there was little room to argue against it. He would make peace with this.

"Give them Heimskr." Inigo said to Jarl Balgruuf. "It is the only way, Jarl Balgruuf. There is no denying the accusations levied against him." He gestured to General Tullius and to Legate Rikke. "But, he will be held in the jail underneath Solitude, in Imperial custody."

If the Talos worshipper had to be placed in custody, better man's than mer's.

"Er - excuse me, but his offenses violate the terms of the White-Gold Concordat." Elenwen insisted. "He belongs in Northwatch Keep."

General Tullius saw the worm dangling on Inigo's hook and grabbed the bait. "That may be so, but we have just confirmed this to be an issue of treason against the Empire. It is proper that he be held under our roof and punished in accordance with Imperial Law for his actions. Surely the Thalmor can concede that fact."

Elenwen had little room to argue; it was most certainly a domestic issue - she'd brought it up as such in the first place. She decided to take this loss with grace. "Very well, General Tullius. The Thalmor, however will have compensation in our own right. I want that statue and that shrine removed from Whiterun. If people even so much as 'mistake' it for Talos, we will not suffer that."

Jarl Balgruuf looked insulted, but he stayed his tongue. This was in the interest of peace, after all. He exchanged a shamed glance with Laila, Ulfric, and Igmund of Markarth, who also had a Talos shrine hidden in his city.

"What's more, since you were generous enough to allow the Vigilants of Stendarr to walk the fields of Whiterun, the Thalmor request the same, unimpeded privilege, to move North into the Pale." Elenwen requested.

"Over my dead fucking body!" Jarl Skald roared furiously. His foul language sounded off the hollow walls of the balcony interior and through the open air. "The Pale is our jurisdiction! Ours!"

Jarl Laila snapped at him. "Calm down, Skald! We're trying to keep things civil here."

Jarl Igmund, who had listened silently the whole time, spoke up at last. "The Thalmor requests, and requests, and requests. And yet you know that there is as much at stake for you here as there is for us. The Daedra will not stop at Skyrim. No, we are the first frontier of conquest. If Dagon is able to topple us, they will spill into Cyrodiil, then to High Rock, then to Hammerfell, to Morrowind, to Valenwood, to Elsewyr, and to your precious Summerset Isles." He counted each location on a finger, opening up his hand and moving onto the next.

"Yes, exactly!" Inigo took the statement further. "I do not care how much you hate us, or how much we hate you. It is very irrelevant, and frankly stupid to think of at this time. Surely you have family back home that you love, as well." he looked at Elenwen with a sympathetic gaze, knowing her connection to Cura and appealing to it. "We all have lost someone close to us to this threat. Did Cura's demise not teach us anything?"

Elenwen felt the hole in her heart gape again, and it was beginning to show in her expression. She bit her lower lip and shook it off quickly before anyone could notice her reaction to the terrible thought.

Inigo looked to Ulfric. "The Dragonborn, who brought us all together once," he turned to General Tullius. "was killed by the followers of these Daedra. The Dragonborn's blood needed to be spilled to reopen the Oblivion gate and allow Dagon through. We managed to push back against him, but he is now regathering his strength in the Velothi Mountains. We need to find a way to send him back to the Deadlands and close that portal."

"And we will need a larger army to do it." Jarl Laila admitted. "We need a unified Skyrim - we need Legion Soldiers. Battlemages. Experienced Clerics. The whole kitten-caboodle. What we have now... if Dagon decides to move South... my city does not have the luxury of a giant moat and a bridge to route the troops. The stables would be vulnerable to attack and I don't see our walls doing much to hold Dagon back honestly."

"And Winterhold. Only that damned College could sruvive the onslaught because of its location. As usual." Jarl Korir muttered.

Inigo had a suggestion. "The College is a safe place - why not send the civilians there in the event of an attack? They could be safe there!"

"Yes, but what if the bridge is destroyed and they have no way off that pillar of rock? Are they supposed to cannibalize each other?" Jarl Korir waved it away. "A very bad idea, that is."

"They're Mages in that college. They can construct a bridge of magic." Jarl Idgrod laughed. "What is it that keeps you up all night where the Mages are concerned, Korir? Magic is useful for more than just fireballs."

"That College has always been a bad omen for my city." Jarl Korir professed. "Since before my father's time - when the calamity struck they were all that withstood it! That can't be a coincidence!"

Inigo decided to speak up again, in their defense. "The Archmage did not know why it was the case, either. But they never meant for any harm to fall on Winterhold. All the mages ever wanted was a place to study magic freely, without political disruptions. I spent a year there with the Dragonborn and our friends. That was all that was done there. The professors gave sermons, we learned neat spells, and we shared our discoveries with one another! There was never any 'secret conspiracy against the people of Winterhold' there. I swear it on all the gods!"

Legate Rikke spoke up. "It would seem as though the Stormcloaks could benefit from learning magic, as well. You mean to tell me that you have no Battlemages in your army at all?"

Jarl Ulfric was shamed to admit it. Especially in the face of his enemies. "No; we've gotten by with our own strength. We've not needed magic until now."

The Thalmor agents shifted uncomfortably. This was exactly why the Nords were always a stumbling block for them: without magic, they were all the more fierce on the battlefield.

"That is pretty damn impressive." Inigo was astonished to hear that. "Perhaps what they say about the Nord spirit is true. Though, I suppose it explains Cura's impressive might: she had the best of both worlds. Nord endurance and spirit and Elven cunning and magic."

General Tullius looked into Ulfric's eyes before darting his gaze towards Elenwen. The true enemy of theirs sat there at the table with them, and his eyes alone conveyed as much. The Thalmor were the true enemy, second to the Daedra at the moment. He cleared his throat. "I, for one, am willing to collaborate with you; a unified Skyrim is stronger than a divided one. The Legion will lend whatever assistance it can. I will send a letter to the Emperor this evening. We'll see if we can supply you with troops in the east."

Inigo gestured towards Elenwen. "And the Thalmor? What do you intend to contribute to our cause? You now know that we are operating in accordance with the White-Gold Concordat. The Talos statue will be going down, and the shrine as well. Heimskr will be detained for his treacherous words against the Empire. But this will only happen if you pledge your cooperation."

"You don't seem to realize who you're talking to, cat." Ondolemar said smugly. "We don't owe you anything. You are going to do it, under our authority. Whether we aid you or not is our decision to make."

"And i have decided that it will be so." Elenwen cut in on his blustering, rising from her seat. "Now, Ulfric - we all know how calm and reasonable you are," she teased her seeming adversary. "you will naturally allow the Thalmor to roam your city's streets to sift out any more possible Mythic Dawn agents, won't you? That is how we intend to cooperate. We will find these adders hiding in the gardens and put them to the sword. If they love Dagon so much, there is little doubt they would be unwilling to be killed for him. And we would all feel much safer to oblige them."

Ulfric nodded. "Fair enough. Laila, Korir. You have to open your cities - let them flush the rats out."

"If there is anything we Thalmor can claim to be excellent at, it's spotting secret worshippers of false gods." Rulindil mocked the Talos worshippers to their faces. He was well aware that they were unwilling to let Talos fade, and once the time was right, he would turn his blade upon all of these Jarls.

Jarl Laila knew that Nura Snow-Shod would need to hide the Shrine of Talos. Their family was not going to be happy about this, but for the sake of their lives, it needed to be done. She hoped they could make peace with it. "Very well - when I return to Riften I will have to manage the matters of security; but I will notify the Guards that the Thalmor will be permitted to search wherever they must."

"The Thalmor tried to take Winterhold once, already." Jarl Korir narrowed his gaze at Elenwen. "Why should this be any different?"

"It was one Thalmor - Ancano." Inigo ironically defended Elenwen and the other two present. "He was a power-hungry moron, and he planned to kill Elenwen, as well. They have as much right to hate their defector as we do."

"Thank you, Inigo." Elenwen was pleasantly surprised that Inigo was charitable enough to bring that fact up in light of everything. "It's good to see that common sense still remains in this province."

"Elsewyr is part of the Thalmor Jurisdiction, isn't it?" Dengeir asked. "How do we know this stupid cat isn't on her side?"

Jarl Ulfric spoke up. "Because I called him to be here. Inigo is on no side but the Dragonborn's. If anyone can truly say that their heart belongs to Skyrim itself, and not to some hidden agenda, it would be him. He is on my side, he is on Tullius' side, and even on the Thalmor's side in this case. He is on the side of Tamriel and will do whatever he must to see it through this crisis safely."

Jarl Dengeir stared at him blankly for an ephemeral minute, and looked to the Jarl's around him. Jarl Idgrod was fast to speak up for him, as well. "Yes; it is as I said. He and the Dragonborn saved my city, once. They had no reason to do so, and yet went out of their way to help us in our time of need. I will never forget their kindness. Inigo is always welcome in my city."

Jarl Laila nodded. "Agreed; I adore this Khajiit! He's done so much for the Rift and her people. Even just going out of his way to assemble this meeting."

Inigo nodded. "And I can tell all of you from firsthand experience that these Daedra... they are powerful. Deadly. They tore Shor's Stone to pieces and drove the refugees to hiding in Windhelm. We needed the help of Divine beings and Dragons to even stand a tiny bit of a chance against them. The situation is dire, my friends."

"For Ulfric to swallow his pride, it must be." Legate Rikke conceded.

Jarl Elisif sighed. "And Solitude has been attacked, as well, and the Temple of the Divines was demolished. Erikur and Gisli were allied with the Mythic Dawn all these years... and nobody ever suspected a thing."

Ulfric shook his head. "Wuunferth the Unliving too was a member of the Mythic Dawn. He murdered my steward and attempted to kill me, but I was rescued..." his eyes trailed to Elenwen, but he elected to keep silent on that matter. "...just in time."

Jarl Korir turned to Elenwen quickly. "Then I give you permission to search every stone of Winterhold. Could be that those freaks are hiding in my land, too. But i don't want any more damage done than is necessary, understand?"

"Oh, rest assured that we will not move a brick out of place." Rulindil smiled with venom between his teeth.

Unfortunately, they all realized that the Thalmor were also no doubt going to use this opportunity to seek out Talos worshippers in their population as well - now that they could access the previously inaccessible.

General Tullius turned, finally to Dengeir, and then to Inigo. "We will hand Dawnstar back to Jarl Skald the elder, in light of Jarl Brina's absence. We request that Falkreath be returned to Jarl Siddgeir as compensation, and for ease of access for our troops. If you want our help, you have to let us help you."

Inigo agreed. "Yes, this is a fair start, but if Dengeir is really genuine about his love for Falkreath, there will be no need to change Jarls." he turned to Dengeir. "You may keep your seat on the throne, but you will help the Imperials with whatever they need from you. Is that understood?"

Dengeir was both surprised and disgusted. On the one hand, the last thing he'd expected was being allowed to keep his position after this meeting; but the strings attached irked him greatly. Though, when contemplating the alternative of his lavish nephew indulging in his selfish desires all day, he quickly accepted this alternative. "Fine. I'll lick the Empire's boots for a little while, but I'm not happy about it."

Jarl Skald was elated. "And I get the Pale back? Good. Good. Finally, something happens right for a change."

"But you'll cooperate with the Empire, as well." Inigo ordered him. "If you hinder them, then by the authority given to me as arbiter here, in the witness of all the Jarls of Skyrim - you will concede your throne again."

Jarl Skald scoffed. "Boy, I am just happy to have my throne back. I can die a happy man, in my Hold. I miss the beautiful white, cold mountains of the Pale and the salty air of Dawnstar. You want to boast about being friend of the Dragonborn? Well, boy, my honour's the better: she was raised in my Hold!" the old curmudgeon strutted like a peacock.

"Yes, a shame you treated her like dirt." Inigo retorted backwards. "Anyways, Jarl Balgruuf has a better connection to her than you, Skald; Whiterun was hands-down her favourite city in Skyrim."

Elenwen and Ulfric could both claim an even greater honour than Skald, but it was not meant to be known. Jarl Skald was a tad annoyed to hear this boast, and Jarl Balgruuf could not feel prouder if he tried.

"But, of all things, she loved this province." Inigo confirmed. "Cura loved the land of Skyrim, the Divines, the Empire, the citizens. Everyone. She was friend to anyone who was suffering. She was a true follower of Stendarr. Even in her darkest times, like in Markarth," he looked over to Igmund, who could shamefully recount the fate of Thongvor Silver-Blood and the City Guards on that one day. "she always loved the land and its people. The Dragonborn was a force of nature, dedicated to guarding this land from evil. We all owe it to her to carry the torch. Do we all agree on this?" He looked around and found no objection, from either Stormcloak, Legionnaire, or even the Thalmor.

Cura had, at one point or another, aided all three of these parties. And each of them had a different way of seeing the world, and each hated the other. But ultimately, none of them wanted to see all that she'd fought for go to ruin, or in the Thalmors' case, to see their own lands destroyed by the encroaching Daedra in the future.

They all agreed that the Daedra were a threat that it would be prudent to be rid of now, while it was still manageable.

"And now, I will go over what we have come up with: the Thalmor will be allowed in all Nine Holds and minor Towns. Jarl Skald will have Dawnstar again under the condition that he cooperates, and the same goes for Dengeir of Stuhn, who will allow the Legion entry through the southern border. The Legion will aid the Stormcloaks in fighting back against Dagon, and we will double our efforts to save this beautiful winter wonderland known as Skyrim, and with it all of Tamriel. Jarl Balgruuf, you will remove the Talos sculpture and shrine, and you will hand Heimskr over to the Empire for his treacherous words to be dealt with accordingly." Inigo declared. "Will there be any more suggestions or amendments made today? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Ulfric shook his head. At this point, it was the best he could get under these circumstances. General Tullius agreed, as well, sharing the sentiment.

Jarl Skald raised his hand. "Just one teensy-tiny thing: what if the Empire should turn around and overthrow us? Hmm?"

"The Empire will not overthrow you: you will be on their side." Inigo declared. "It is time for Skyrim to stop wounding itself."

Ondolemar and Rulindil looked on and listened to these words miserably. The former had to share his thoughts accordingly. "Don't think we won't be watching you though, however. Our gaze may be fixed on the Mythic Dawn, but you had best know that we will still be taking notes to whom is doing what. Don't get too comfortable."

Elenwen raised a hand. "Enough, Ondolemar. We've come to make peace with mankind for now."

"Hmph. You've done a lot more than 'make peace' with them, First Emissary." Ondolemar responded smugly, his eyes trailing over to Ulfric, as though he were threatening to reveal what he knew.

Jarl Laila furrowed her brows and looked at Ulfric, and then at the Elves in question.

"We have arrived with a singular purpose," Elenwen reiterated. "Any deviation from our planned course will result in punishment. Is that clear, Ondolemar?" Her glare was fierce, a silent vow of certain corporal punishment for her subordinate.

Ondolemar slowly backed away and returned to silence.

General Tullius stood up from his seat. "Then I suppose all things are in order." he extended his hand towards Ulfric for a shake, and the Jarl of Windhelm took it.

Inigo abruptly raised a hand. "Hold on: I want this to be official. The Aedra are watching us, from the air and all around - I want you all to swear an oath, here and now. Repeat after me." He held up Cura's mace horizontally towards the sun above them all.

"I, General Tullius, do solemnly swear, in the name of Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Stendarr, Mara, Zenithar, Kynareth and... Shezarr," Inigo appealed to the Eight and One - equating Talos with the Shezzarine as many had in the past. "that I will aid the Stormcloaks in their endeavours against the forces of the Daedra. Not one act of double-cross shall be upon my hands, nor the hands of those under my command. So let it be done."

General Tullius understood immediately what Inigo had meant in the presence of the Thalmor, and obliged. "I, General Tullius, do solemnly swear, in the name of Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Stendarr, Mara, Zenithar, Kynareth and Shezarr, that I will aid the Stormcloaks in their endeavours against the forces of the Daedra. Not one act of double-cross shall be upon my hands, nor the hands of those under my command. So let it be done."

Then Inigo appealed to Ulfric, next. "I, Ulfric Stormcloak, do solemnly swear, in the name of Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Stendarr, Mara, Zenithar, Kynareth and Shor," he equated to the Nord Shezarr. "that I, and those under my banner, will cooperate with the Empire during this time of chaos and hope to mend the wounds which scar my homeland in the decades to follow."

Ulfric looked to Inigo with a look of uncertainty at first, but realized that Shor symbolized the missing Talos, and conceded. "I, Ulfric Stormcloak, do solemnly swear, in the name of Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Stendarr, Mara, Zenithar, Kynareth and Shor, that I, and those under my banner, will cooperate with the Empire during this time of chaos and hope to mend the wounds which scar my homeland in the decades to follow." His gaze drited over to Elisif, and he realized it was a tall order, considering what he had to do to make the point of Skyrim's state of weakness. Perhaps, this would be the beginning of their climb to recovery, and to fortification.

Inigo gestured towards Elenwen. "And for the Thalmor: repeat after me."

Elenwen nodded, ready to hear what he had to say.

"I, Elenwen, First Emissary of the Thalmor, swear upon Auri-El, Stendarr, Mara, Magnus, Syrabane, Trinimac, Xarxes, Phynaster, and Lorkhan," Inigo appealed to the Aldmeri deities in her case. "that I will do precisely as I have promised in this meeting; I will not turn my blades against the human races during this period, nor will any who serve under the Thalmor banners. We shall assist them in this crisis against Mehrunes Dagon's forces, and will not interfere with their affairs."

Elenwen looked to Ondolemar and Rulindil first, and then held her left hand to her breast and raised her right hand. She was quite impressed at how well the Khajiit seemed to know their pantheon. ""I, Elenwen, First Emissary of the Thalmor, swear upon Auri-El, Stendarr, Mara, Magnus, Syrabane, Trinimac, Xarxes, Phynaster, and Lorkhan, that I will do precisely as I have promised in this meeting; I will not turn my blades against the human races during this period, nor will any who serve under the Thalmor banners. We shall assist them in this crisis against Mehrunes Dagon's forces, and will not interfere with their affairs." She quickly turned to Ondolemar and Rulindil, as if to include them in the oath, as well.

"And me, as well - I too have an oath to make." Inigo raised his right hand to the skies, and his left hand to his chest. "I, Inigo the Brave, swear by Akatosh, Stendarr, Mara, Kynareth, Dibella, Zenithar, Julianos, Arkay, Shezarr, and by my best friend the Dragonborn; Cura; Saint of Stendarr, chosen of Akatosh, Terror of Dragons, that I will do all that I can to aid everybody in this time of crisis, and that I will fight until I can no longer. So let it be done!"

As if on cue, the skies began to brighten above as the clouds parted, and a gentle drizzle began to rain upon the party, gentle dewdrops hitting them from above, a blessing, or a binding, from the gods.

The Jarls began to attempt to cover their heads instinctively, and Jarl Balgruuf gestured to them all. "The Gods are watching you all - don't go against what we've agreed upon, or there will be consequences."

Inigo looked up to the gentle rainfall, with a great deal of surprise. The Aedra really were watching him this whole time, like Stendarr had said.

Jarl Ulfric addressed General Tullius, and all of the Jarls present. "All right; now our real work begins. For Skyrim!"

"Great Kynareth!" Igmund exclaimed with great shock and awe, pointing a finger to the upper skies, where what appeared to be a shining falcon soared above, luminious and prismatic, through the open air, leaving a trail of multiple colours behind it in an arc.

Even the Thalmor looked on with awe and trepidation at the sight of Kyne herself above their world.

Jarl Laila bowed her head, as did Jarl Idgrod and Jarl Korir.

Perhaps it was the cat in him, or perhaps it was the fact that he'd just managed to install a peace treaty for Skyrim, but something about seeing that divine bird made Inigo feel incredibly excited. He clenched Cura's mace in both hands and walked a few feet away, with his back to the party. "YESSS!" he jumped for joy. Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes as he bellowed triumphantly. "Cura, my friend, I did it. I did it!" He could hardly wait to tell Lucien and the others of his success. "Thank you, Stendarr! Thank you, Mara! Thank you, Kynareth! Thank you, Dibella, thank you, Arkay, thank you, Zenithar, thank you, Akatosh, thank you, Julianos-" he briefly looked around, "and thank you, too, Talos." he whispered at the end.

Jarl Ulfric called out to Inigo. "Hey, Inigo - do me a favour: go to Windhelm and tell the people there what's going on. Send the refugees to Winterhold for the meantime - we'll see about those Mages and bridges, yeah?"

Inigo nodded. "Sure thing!"

Jarl Laila walked around the table and over to Inigo. She took his hands. "You've done it; you've achieved the impossible, I think. Meet me in Riften after you've finished that task - I have another gift to give you, for all of your efforts."

"I am not worthy, my Jarl." Inigo accepted it humbly.

Jarl Balgruuf approached Inigo and took his hand into a firm shake, and pulled him in for an embrace with his other arm. "It's a great deed you've done here, lad; a shame about Heimskr and the Shrine. But I understand that this is for the best. It's a way to bridge the gaps for the meantime. I don't think we're going to have a long unity, but for the time being, maybe we can dialogue again. Maybe, just maybe, there are other ways to solve our differences that don't need to end in bloodshed. Maybe after this, the Stormcloaks will come to realize that we're all on the same side, us men." He leaned forward and whispered, 'The elves, on the other hand, talking of adders in the gardens - they are the next big threat, once Dagon is gone. Mark my words; their tenacity will not end here. If anything, they're going to exploit this down the road."

"I did my best to block them." Inigo stated.

"Sometimes in life, our only options are bad and worse; you did what you could. Be proud of what you managed to accomplish. I know Cura would be." Jarl Balgruuf comforted him.

Inigo nodded. "I know she would be." he examined her mace in his hands, and Jarl Balgruuf looked down upon it nostalgically.

"She won't be dead forever." Jarl Balgruuf told him personally. "There is no way that the gods' plan for her is finished. If there is anything we know about Dragonborns: they are never dead until their purpose is fulfilled, and in some cases they may even transcend, as Talos had." he quickly looked over his shoulder, but he saw the elves having discourse with the other Jarls. He nudged Inigo on the arm. "She'll be back. Remember: Jarl Balgruuf said it first." He turned around to rejoin Laila and the other Jarls, and Inigo left with a fluttering heart to head to Windhelm.

He still could not believe what had just happened: he managed to secure peace. Peace, in the midst of the Season Unending. Cooperation. It was incredible! He danced his way down the stairs and descended the forum of Balgruuf's throne. He continued down the stairs and exited Dragonsreach joyfully.

Inigo, you did it. You actually did it, you crazy Khajiit! he told himself elatedly with a spring in his step. On his way out, he high-fived an unassuming city guard and leapt down the stairs, over the water, and continued through the city, a hero.