Author's Note :

Dear all,

I hope you're excited for Alec's explanations after that mess. This chapter has a familiar flashback format, though with a little something extra this time. It will hopefully become clear as you read :)

Something special for the hundredth chapter. A true bard's tale ;)

Enjoy and thank you all for your readership :3

Chapter C – Subjugation

This place was more dismal than he expected.

They all warned him. When he told his friends back in the City that he was going to go through Windhelm, he was quite certain that some of them might have been on the verge of fainting. But, then again, they all scoffed and turned up their noses even when he told them that he would go as far as Blacklight for his next concert, so he didn't take them too seriously.

They were all like this. Blacklight was uncultured, full of 'barbarians' – Argonians and Dunmer who could not possibly appreciate the height of Imperial culture.

What did they know? They didn't understand that it was the best part. He was grateful to them. He was still an up-and-comer and they were going to introduce him to everyone, make him famous and rich beyond his dreams. But did he even want that?

He could scarcely believe it when these people approached him as he played during the New Life festival on the streets. He just liked playing there when the streets were busy. And drunk people tipped more. But this bunch of nobles, sycophants and some bards, actually thought he was worth some effort. They liked his voice, his songs, and they told him they would introduce him to important people.

It was nice. It was shocking, but hardly an opportunity he could ever pass up. But his money had always been for one thing – to travel, experience different cultures, see how they reacted to his music, what he could learn from them.

But his friends all scoffed when he wanted to do that. There was only one right way to be a bard and they had it all figured out, apparently. Stay in the Imperial City and entertain the bored nobles.

He didn't even want to go to Blacklight. It was too cosmopolitan for his liking. He wanted to see the places by the coast, still ravaged by the Red Year and the invasion. He wanted to see the people who struggled to rebuild Mournhold and Balmora. He wanted to play for people who needed to have their spirits lifted, not for bored petty nobles who only looked for flaws in everything.

But they convinced him to go to Blacklight instead, if he really needed to see the barbaric Morrowind at all. To make a bit of a name for himself. They contacted some Imperial friends there and arranged for Alec's performance.

It would get him a lot of money. Improve his reputation. He should just do that and then he would be able to go wherever he wanted.

But he could still adjust it a little bit more to his liking. So instead of visiting the capital of Morrowind like everyone expected him to, by a carriage with an armed escort headed through Cheydinhal, he announced that he would be taking a boat from Windhelm instead. The south of Morrowind was still too dangerous after all – the Argonian invaders made sure of it. It would be safer to go through Skyrim.

His friends didn't pay that much attention to the politics up North, fortunately. He could get away with traveling by a common carriage through there, despite what he knew. Tensions were clearly high in Skyrim and he was pretty sure that a civil war may have been brewing. But only those familiar with the world they lived in would know. His friends were not among them – they knew which places the Empire declared 'dangerous' and outside of that, they were locked in their bubble, inside the Imperial City, scoffing at all the barbarians beyond the borders.

It suited him just fine. He had never been to Skyrim before.

They did tell him that the Nordic cities were 'stuck two Eras in the past' and covered in snow and dirt. He didn't take that talk very seriously.

But Windhelm really wasn't much to look at. During his carriage ride from Cyrodiil, Alec passed through quaint villages, picturesque settlements and gorgeous tundra. But Windhelm… the oldest city in Tamriel, it just looked… bleak.

Though it did have its charm.

He liked the wooden buildings with roofs covered in snow. Just like Bruma. Though he was more excited to see the more exotic parts of Tamriel, those that didn't remind him of Cyrodiil so much, but it was still different enough. More authentic, perhaps. The people here didn't walk around in expensive coats with pearls on their lapels. There were real people here, struggling, hard-working. Well, he did spot a few who were clearly nobles, but he still definitely stood out the most out of everyone.

The Nords walking by all kept throwing him guarded glances, especially at his outfit.

Wasn't it nice to bring a little color to this drab city? A proper bard should look the part. His friends insisted that it meant lots of jewels and anything that screamed 'expensive', but he disagreed. He just wanted to bring some color. But he kept getting those jewels as gifts anyway, so how could he not wear them? He just hoped he wouldn't get robbed here.

Then again, if it would help someone get out of the misery of poverty, who was he not to let them? He knew he was luckier than most. It was hardly fair. If his new friends weren't that drunk that day they found him, he would likely still be scraping by, busking on the streets.

'Rob me all you like, people of Windhelm'. He chuckled to himself in his head. Just not the hat. He liked the hat too much.

"Lord Alec, is there anything else you need?" A voice behind him disturbed him from taking in the scenery.

He almost forgot about that guy.

"You really didn't have to bring my luggage to the city, my good sir," Alec gave him a wry smile. "It is not that heavy for me to carry on my own." Annoying. Did he always have to have some attendant at his back?

"Lady Alaster insisted I treat you as befits your station, my lord," the man bowed respectfully. It was bad enough that Alec couldn't grab a carriage in Falkreath and travel with the locals, but of course his friends insisted he travel in style. All the way from the City with the same boring person who was afraid to even speak to someone of 'Alec's station'. "This place looks like an inn, milord, I think. I doubt there will be a better one. Shall I bring your luggage in and get you a room?" The man pointed to the large building right in front of them, right past the gates.

Their conversation did not escape the notice of a passerby Nord who only rolled her eyes at them with a decisively disdainful 'Imperials' muttered under her breath.

Yes… Alec was really representing the worst of it, wasn't he?

"No need, my good sir. Please, go back to your carriage lest the Nords sell it for firewood. It has been an immense pleasure traveling with you," Alec beamed at him. Immensely boring displeasure.

The man looked nervous about the mention of his carriage being stolen and sold, but he still threw Alec an uncertain look.

"Milord, I could still wait with you until your ship…"

"Please, no!" Alec almost yelped before he caught himself. "Ehm… there's really no need. I am quite sure I will be safe at the inn you recommended."

"Very well. I wish you luck with your performance, Lord Alec. May the Eight watch over you in this… place," the man scowled a bit.

Alec was pretty sure the Eight didn't watch over this place in particular. His eyes went right over to the giant statues of Talos right by the inn. Admirable of the Nords to flaunt their defiance.

The man finally left him alone and Alec grabbed his own luggage. It wasn't even heavy, and despite his colorful outfit, he was no dainty flower. Well… maybe the Nords would think so, but in comparison to them, who wasn't a dainty flower?

He walked into the inn purposefully, the people around still giving him furtive looks. He didn't mind that. If he minded attention, he would hardly be fit to be a bard, wouldn't he? Though he knew what the people here must have thought about him – the pompous spoiled Imperial.

He loved winning them over despite that. Though he had no performance planned here, there was no reason not to make good use of the evening at the inn.

The Nord woman behind the bar looked rather morose when he approached, but he flashed her a bright smile. He did notice her grumpy façade crack a tiny bit at that.

"My lovely lady, might you have a room available for the night?"

"Ehm… I do…" She looked quite caught off guard, being addressed like that. "Fifteen drakes for the night."

"Fifteen septims? So cheap for such a beautifully rustic well-cared-for place? Surely you jest," he shook his head at her. That was really cheap. "How about we call it twenty? It simply does not feel fair."

"Well aren't you a charmer?" She smirked at him. "I will not say no to free money. Might even clean your mug personally. Come on. I'll show you our best room."

That 'mug' thing wasn't a euphemism, was it? Or a threat?

"Much obliged," he gave her a courtly bow.

The woman didn't wait as she led him through the rustic hallways. The smell of wood and something freshly baked permeated through the place so pleasantly. Bruma could try all it liked, but it would never have this… feel to it. He liked the inn a lot so far.

The room he was led to was nothing overly lavish, especially not for their 'best' room. But it was perfect. What need did he have for a private bathing tub or five armoires? He was here for one night, not moving in.

He merely pushed his luggage into the room for now. He didn't need it yet. Maybe later. He could ask right now. The woman hasn't left yet, likely waiting to see if he needed anything else.

"I will join your patrons in the common room, my good lady. If I could bother you for some of your Nordic mead and something filling to eat?" He smiled at her.

"Hah! And here I worried you would order wine. Good on you, little lad," she smiled almost proudly. He wasn't that little by Imperial standards, but it obviously pleased this one to think of the flimsy Imperial brave enough to try their booze. He had Dunmer spirits before. He was no pushover. But he saw no reason not to humor her.

She ushered him outside the room again, passed him the key, allowing him to lock up his luggage, and then she led him again to the end of a corridor and up a narrow staircase.

"And I was wondering, if you would perhaps be interested in some entertainment? I am a bard. No charge, of course. Just to please your patrons with a song and liven up the evening, if you are interested," he continued to ask.

"You wanna sing for free?" The woman looked over her shoulder at him dubiously.

"What can I say? I do enjoy my craft," he smiled. He didn't need the money – not with what he would earn in Blacklight. He just wanted to play for regular people again.

"Well, sure. It will be a pleasant change," the woman nodded. By now they made their way upstairs. The whole second story of the building was the common room with a large stone fireplace and a few alcoves by the walls creating some semblance of privacy. But he liked it that way. Everyone would hear and see his performance here. And the room was already half-full now in the early afternoon.

But then, a single thrum of a lute's string caught his attention.

Oh. There was someone already…

"You! Greyskin!" The innkeeper suddenly bellowed. "Get out of my sight! We have a real bard here today."

What?! No!

There was a young Dunmer girl, almost hidden in the corner of the room, sitting on a floor with a lute in her lap. She was just looking into some notebooks, likely literal ones, filled with actual notes. She was dressed a bit flimsily for the weather outside, only in a sleeveless leather corset and a bright purple skirt, but the color warmed Alec's heart. She stood out from the crowd like a proper bard, even when she was hiding in the corner of the room and down on the ground. Her lovely black hair was tied to a neat bun with a blue ribbon in it and her red eyes shone brightly.

But here, it seemed it wasn't the only reason why she stood out. The term 'greyskin' did not escape Alec's notice. And that innkeeper seemed so nice before.

"Elda! No!" A young blonde Nord girl suddenly jogged towards them, carrying five empty tankards in her hands. She was clearly a barmaid, busy with work, but she interrupted that work when she saw the scene. The poor Dunmer girl was just staring at the innkeeper in confusion. "You promised she could play here."

"When we have no better option. Go back to work, girl!" The innkeeper bristled at the young barmaid.

"S-Susanna, it's alright," the Dunmer girl lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Elda, she needs the money!" The blonde Nord gave the innkeeper a desperate look.

"I don't care what any greyskin mooch claims they 'need'. Give her your tips if you care so much, girl. Now did you hear me, elf? Out!" The woman, Elda, apparently, huffed again.

"No! No! Absolutely not!" Alec quickly interrupted them. This was astonishingly upsetting. "Forgive me, my good lady, but I could not in good conscience take a colleague's place like this."

"Don't bother with her, she's not good enough to play here anyway. She needs to go back where she belongs," the woman scoffed.

"Elda!" The young barmaid, Susanna, gasped in horror again.

"I… thank you for the… opportunity…" the Dunmer looked like she was doing her best to hold back tears. By now, she was just trying to collect her notebooks with shaky hands.

"With all due respect, milady, you have not even heard me play and sing yet," Alec shook his head at Elda. She had no idea who he was at all. "There is no honor in stealing another artist's performance and I cannot…"

"I don't wanna listen to her croaking today anyway. Those raspy voices of theirs are so jarring that…" the innkeeper growled, interrupting Alec, but he promptly interrupted her in turn. There was really no need to escalate it this much. He was going to have a really hard time being courteous to this woman from now on, he just knew it.

"A compromise then!" He quickly suggested. "How about me and the lovely minstrel over here perform together tonight? I have several beautiful duets. Especially beautiful when sung with someone with a unique voice," he smiled at the Dunmer kindly. He would not understand Elda's opinion. Ever. The raspiness of Dunmer voices made for such lovely music. He was hoping to hear plenty of it in Blacklight, but hopefully now he would hear the singing sooner.

"You don't have to…" Elda growled, but Alec promptly interrupted her again.

"I would be immensely grateful if you would allow this, my good woman. There is nothing I love more than singing with talented strangers," he flashed her a bright smile.

"Hmph… if you insist," the woman rolled her eyes. "But I would hardly call her talented."

"Well… we'll see, won't we?" Alec smirked. "Now please, if I could bother you for my meal and my drink. I will enjoy the lovely lady's practice in the meantime," he winked at the Dunmer on the floor. She seemed like she tried to smile at him, but she looked more stunned than anything. She was still clutching her notebooks, almost ready to leave, as if she expected someone to throw her out at any second.

The barmaid, on the other hand, was much more relieved. She gave Alec a very bright smile and stepped closer to him, but before she could say anything, Elda interrupted her again.

"Back to work, girl! Didn't you hear? You have a new order."

"Oh… of course," the blonde smiled wryly at Alec before she turned on her heel.

Soon, both Elda and Susanna were gone and Alec stayed in the room with the Dunmer and the rest of the patrons behind his back. He should probably go find a seat for himself, but he couldn't help but study the young bard's reaction. She still looked stunned. And when he didn't leave, she finally decided to speak.

"Why did you… do that?" She looked up at him nervously, as if he had an ulterior motive.

"Exactly why I said, my lovely colleague. One does not take another's place so callously. I am deeply sorry that I even asked the proprietor to perform here. I had no idea she already had you," he gave her a brief bow.

"She just… lets me sometimes. Some people tip. She pays with one meal. But… just because… Susanna makes her," the girl stammered a bit. "I don't know why Susanna makes her. If she just pities me or makes fun of me behind my back. It's just… not… a real job."

"You never know when it can turn around, my dear. Two years ago, I was only performing out on the streets of the Imperial City before someone appreciated my talent," he smiled warmly.

"Really?" She gaped at him in disbelief. "I thought you're a noble."

"Not at all, milady," he chuckled. Now he surely looked the part, except more colorful. And he was not from an overly poor family, not as poor as some. But he never had any safety nets.

"Why do you talk like that?" She gave him a grimace.

"Hah!" Alec had to laugh at her question. It was a fair question. Even nobles rarely talked like this. "It is… a performance, my dear. I am a bard after all. And you only hear a bard break his performance when you drag him out of his element," he winked at her.

"You're not out of your element here?" She smirked a little, but her expression was more disturbed than anything.

"Not in the slightest. This is exactly where I want to be," he sighed wistfully. And bards like her were exactly whom he wanted to associate with. Hopeful. Determined. She could likely do something else for money without being hated by her employer, but she was still here.

"You're… strange," she shook her head slightly. "You really want to sing with me?"

"Of course. It will be my pleasure," he bowed slightly again. "My name is Alec." He was NOT going to use that ridiculous 'Prince of Song' afterthought in his name as his new friends suggested.

"Nice to meet you," the Dunmer nodded at him, still a little dumbstruck. But only after he looked at her silently for a while, waiting for her introduction, she realized herself.

"Luaffyn."

…

"Did you say Luaffyn?"

Aeyrin interrupted Alec's story. That was familiar. Luaffyn from Windhelm? Wasn't she that Dumner girl who… oh Gods! "I… know that name. You're… doing Ulfric's bidding for Luaffyn?" She asked uncertainly. He told him he was doing it for 'her'. That they should help him 'save her'. But… Luaffyn was…

"Fuck. You don't know?" Bishop cringed a bit. He remembered that name too. The Dunmer kept repeating it during the funeral rites after Aeyrin killed the Butcher.

"A-Alec…" Aeyrin stammered a bit. This was going to be very hard. "Luaffyn… she's dead."

"Oh, get off it, I know," he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. It was rather clear by his speech, if nothing else, that this bard was certainly out of his element now. "I'm not doing this for Luaffyn. Just let me talk, will you?" He huffed in annoyance.

"You're taking fucking forever!" Bishop groaned. All that talk, all that flowery preamble, just to tell them about him meeting a girl that had nothing to do with this?! Why?!

"Call it poetic license, you brute," Alec smirked a bit meanly at him. "It's what I do."

"It makes it sound like you're performing a fucking play!" Bishop growled. "Why should we believe any of this? Just because you add that racist hag into your story to make yourself seem sympathetic?" It was so fucking transparent.

"That's not why… I didn't even tell you much yet!" Alec defended himself promptly. "You don't even know why this is important yet."

"I know! That's the worst part," Bishop rolled his eyes. He kept blabbering and it amounted to nothing. They asked about why he worked for Ulfric, not for his life story.

"Do you want to hear it or not? Just shut it and let me continue," Alec was clearly starting to get frustrated with the interruption. When he was telling the story, he was much more comfortable – weaving his fantastical tale. It was true that it was a bit hard to tell whether he was sincere or not.

"The story has a lot of holes in it," Bishop tried to poke him again.

"Yeah… when was this?" Aeyrin concurred. "You mentioned that the war was brewing, but by the time we met in Windhelm, it was already…"

"I told you, this isn't about you," Alec pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "This happened like six years ago."

Oh. Six years ago. So this really was before the war officially broke out. And it was long before the Butcher struck for the first time. So back then, life in Windhelm was as they knew it when they first arrived. Elda was being a racist bitch, Susanna was trying to help the local elves, but getting shunned in return because of their mistrust, and Luaffyn, whom Bishop and Aeyrin never actually met before, was still alive and occasionally performing at the Candlehearth.

But why in the world was that relevant to Alec getting 'recruited' by Ulfric?

"You didn't say it was fucking six years ago," Bishop growled again. Fucking story-weaver didn't know when to play his games and when to actually focus on fucking relevant information.

"It's called suspense," Alec rolled his eyes.

It really fucking wasn't! It was just a pointless waste of time.

"And you really expect us to believe you were just some poor bard who wanted to explore cultures and didn't give a shit about the money and station?" Bishop doubled down. He was just trying to paint himself as some sympathetic hero. It was so obvious.

"Will you let me continue?" Alec hissed.

"Shh! Let him talk. I want to hear this," Jora suddenly interrupted them, which made Alec promptly throw her a suspicious look. But still, he let out a deep sigh, intent on continuing.

Whatever he thought Jora was, there was hardly any going back now.

…

They hit it off instantly.

Alec and Luaffyn played that night, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. They had different styles, but that didn't matter. Instead of duets, they mostly took turns. The patrons seemed to like the change.

Alec had more experience with the stage by now, although the common room could hardly be called a stage, but he knew how to entice a crowd. And Luaffyn seemed mesmerized as well, almost as much as he was with her unique Dunmeri songs. She said that it was the first night she even dared to perform them at the inn.

Sure, some bigots grumbled, but Alec's enthusiasm about her performance was infectious.

And at the end of the night, Luaffyn asked when he was coming back.

He wasn't planning on it. He did want to take the southern route from Morrowind when he came back from Blacklight. But… another performance with her was too tempting of an offer to pass up.

And so, after a fruitful performance at Blacklight, he came back through Windhelm again.

This time it was different.

He had decided. He decided to stay for a while before returning to Cyrodiil and… he also decided that his time there was really the way he wanted to share his art. He much preferred it to playing for stuck-up nobles in fancy concert halls.

He would just have to charge.

Or maybe he could just do one or two more concerts that his friends suggested and then he would be set for a while. That was a great plan. And in the time between, he could enjoy traveling, see how much it would cost him, how much he could earn.

He was so excited. And he couldn't wait to meet more talented artists like Luaffyn.

And maybe even share a similar bond with them as with Luaffyn. His third visit to Windhelm was even more rewarding than he had originally expected.

But for that the people he met didn't need to be bards, of course.

His life was lined up into perfection. Into everything he wanted from it. He was still schmoozing with the nobility, getting well known in the 'proper circles', but it was only a matter of time before he could just leave it all behind.

It was true that that lifestyle was also more expensive than the one he dreamed of on the road, so it may have not been only one or two performances before he was financially secure but… it was going to happen.

It would have happened.

But something betrayed him.

Weakness. Attachment. Love.

It happened faster than he knew. It blindsighted him and it was something he never expected. Nor wanted. But there was nothing he could do.

And to this day, there would be nothing he wouldn't do to see her smile, to hold her hand in his, look into her bright red eyes. To comfort her when the world around her spared her no kindness.

She changed everything.

And all his plans crumbled as if with a snap of a finger.

…

"You said this wasn't about Luaffyn!" Bishop groaned. What the fuck? Now he was talking about love and about attachment?

"It's not! I'm not talking about Luaffyn," Alec huffed. "I'm just making it more dramatic. Obscured. The reveal will be all the more shocking," he sighed dreamily.

"We don't need to be shocked anymore! This isn't your fucking stage, you dumbass fop!" Bishop fumed.

"You have no appreciation for art, you barbarian," the bard rolled his eyes. "This way, it portrays the situation as it should. Along with my perspective. That is what I want you to see. Because without it, you just see the corpses around us."

Bishop let out another groan and he rolled his shoulders impatiently. He was still holding his sword near Alec, though now nobody could claim that he was actually aiming at him. He had been standing like that for at least over ten minutes and his arm was clearly getting tired, but he was still adamant to keep his sword at the ready.

"Bish, I think you can sheathe that sword. He's not going anywhere. He's not escaping me whatever he does," Aeyrin gave him a small smile. She had her Shouts. Alec was not going anywhere and he had no weapon on him.

Though she did feel kind of… strange in that situation. For one, she completely forgot about the corpses and her anger when Alec told his tale. It wasn't her fault! He was good at that. She got so engrossed she didn't even realize he had been talking for so long or that they were still angry at him for this stunt.

Was it horrible to forget about those people that died here today? They did attack. And there was not really much chance to run from them with the river behind their backs and the crowd so close. But… it still felt awful that this happened. That Alec forced that encounter and almost killed Jora too.

On the plus side, Aeyrin almost completely forgot about her dark moods when they were dealing with this. Maybe she did need a proper distraction.

Though now she was just feeling guilty that she was grateful for it – for the distraction of so many lives lost.

And Alec's obvious turmoil.

She could see it. He spoke callously about those slaughtered here, even about Jora. But there was clear desperation in his voice.

There was a reason why he was doing all of this. One that pushed his conscience away.

"Just fucking spill it already," Bishop growled as he sheathed his sword at last. "Who are you protecting? Who needs to be saved? Stop stalling. If you want our help, give us a fucking reason already!"

"Fine! Uncultured brute," Alec huffed. "I'm talking about my daughter."

Silence enveloped the hillside for a moment and there was no doubt that Alec was letting the information sink in for a dramatic effect.

But it did warrant a bit of shocked silence.

"You… have a daughter?" Aeyrin finally broke the quiet.

"Yes. Now, if you would allow me," Alec inclined his head, ready to continue his tale. "It all began with a letter."

…

His life would have been all lined up.

Were it not for that letter.

He still couldn't believe it. He still remembered when he got it, right as he was enjoying his evening at the House of Mirth. One of the attendants there approached him with that piece of parchment. It was stuffed in an envelope that was barely holding together and the writing on a very filthy parchment. But he could still make out those words.

.

Dear Alec,

I'm afraid that our time together has bore more fruit than we thought. I'm pregnant.

Do not worry, I'm only writing to you to let you know. I don't expect anything from you. It was my responsibility, but I foolishly hoped I could rely on luck alone. Contraceptives are not easy to buy with my meager pay. But that was my decision, same as this.

You deserve to know the truth. But I will not stand in the way of your life nor your art.

Luaffyn

.

How gracious of Luaffyn.

How easy for her to assume he would just run to the wind.

He could have. But would that be easier?

Alec had no idea why, but the thought bothered him. He got 'permission', for the lack of a better word, to live the life he planned. Unencumbered.

But for some reason, he never really considered that as an option. When he read the first line, that was not an option in his mind that existed. But as he read on, he was told that it was.

And it felt like he was betraying himself to even just consider it.

He needed to be there for his child.

...

"Wait… s-so…" Aeyrin interrupted him when he barely even picked his tale up again. "You just… knew? You just knew that you were up for it? That you wanted that?"

She knew it. It wasn't normal to react to pregnancy the way she had. And it was definitely even less normal to react the way she had to a miscarriage. Even him. Even Alec of all people, the man she always thought was ruled by whim and fame, even he saw it as his purpose.

"No… I… I wouldn't say that," Alec shook his head, pondering. "I… I've been to Luaffyn's place before that letter exactly once. Calling it a 'place' is generous, mind you. The idea of her having a child there… it filled me with dread that I could not ignore. If this was another man's child, I would have done the same. I wouldn't have had the same dilemma though."

So… it was a concern for the child growing up in the Grey Quarter first? Alright. That made her feel a bit less awful than if it were him finding his instant calling and purpose as a father.

"I was far from 'up for it'," he chuckled a little, almost desperately. "I was terrified. Mourning my dream life in an instant. I was cursing all the Gods for doing this to me. But I also knew that leaving Luaffyn alone with this would have irreparably wounded my conscience."

"So what dilemma did you have?" Bishop scowled a bit. "You're saying you couldn't leave them alone, so what was there to decide?" The news about the daughter did kind of make him a bit more sympathetic. Fuck, he even kinda respected that fop for not entertaining the idea of bolting on Luaffyn and the kid, especially with what happened to that girl. But the story was way too long for Bishop to forgive him entirely for those fucking theatrics.

"Well… I could have gone to Windhelm and scrounged up what little money I could playing there, basically taking Luaffyn's job. Or…"

"Or you could have become even more rich and famous instead," Bishop scoffed. Right. Of course. That brief bout of respect he felt for the bard was gone instantly. No matter how much that fop claimed otherwise, he got his dream life in the end, clearly. Bishop didn't think for a second that he would have been content in seedy taverns, scrounging up enough money just to be able to travel when he would know he could have had fortune and fame instead.

"You might not approve, think I abandoned my child, but I did what I thought was best. I weighed my options carefully. And it was not as if I couldn't go back to them anytime. Well… I could have, but…" Alec lowered his head.

"But what?" Aeyrin asked almost carefully.

"Well it wasn't just my decision. Luaffyn… she didn't want me around. Not much anyway. She didn't even have any room for me there. I went to her, we talked about it. I wanted to take her to Cyrodiil and solve everything that way. But she wanted her daughter to grow up amongst her people. I offered to take her to Morrowind or just… anywhere but that cesspool," he explained. Luaffyn's answer was apparent from his morose shake of his head.

"She didn't want to leave the community? Her friends and family?" Aeyrin prodded. The elves of the Grey Quarter were very close-knit.

"I doubt it was that. Many elves there are just waiting to get out of there. Anywhere," Alec scoffed. "We've seen each other for three evenings before she found out she was pregnant. She may have trusted me to sing with her, to take me to her home, her bed, but…"

"Guess a fairy tale of a rich bard whisking a girl away from squalor are too much even in her situation," Bishop sighed. He understood that. Who in their right mind would trust Alec at that moment that he was gonna just make everything right? Definitely not someone with the experiences of a Dunmer from the Grey Quarter.

"None of this would have happened if she let me take her away," Alec sighed too. "But… she worried. We barely knew each other. She worried that I would change my mind if we weren't getting along. Or maybe she worried I would have… disposed of her. Who knows?"

"Valid concerns," Bishop shrugged. She would have had nothing while relying on him for shelter, food and everything under the sun. Relying on someone she barely knew.

"I know," he admitted. "And who knows what would have happened? But it's hard to believe it could have been any worse than this."

"So what did happen?" Aeyrin prodded.

"Well…" Alec took a deep breath in order to continue his story. "We had an agreement. I continued on the path my friends outlined for me and I visited Luaffyn whenever I could. Gave her what money I could. And eventually, little Llarni was born," he sighed fondly.

It was quite obvious how much Alec cared for his daughter, despite how little he got to see her. But his face was still darkened when he spoke of what happened.

"Luaffyn… she didn't want to take as much money as I was offering. I was visiting more and more often to be with Llarni. I was… bonding with her. And I wanted her to have a good life. But Luaffyn seemed to start to resent it. She resented having to rely on my help with everything and… our relationship grew more and more sour. It was clear that no matter what, the two of us could never be a family. And it didn't really help that I had to… be secretive about both of them to preserve my image. We just… didn't get on very well."

"So what? You stopped visiting? Stopped giving them money?" Bishop scoffed. A predictable story.

"What? Never!" Alec shook his head. "But I… think I got more careless. I didn't want Luaffyn to drive me away from Llarni so… I tried to be more affectionate to her. I tried to court her a bit more openly to see if that would improve our strained relationship."

"But people noticed," Aeyrin nodded in realization.

"I assumed the people in Windhelm would have no idea who I am. Some, maybe the nobles, but surely not those I could run into when I was in the Grey Quarter," Alec sighed. "I suppose… my cover of visiting the inn and performing there, only to sneak out whenever I could to Luaffyn and Llarni, got a bit more complicated when more people knew who I was. And somehow, Ulfric found out about my… illegitimate family."

"Why would he care?" Bishop scowled. Why would Alec care, for that matter? Why would he give a shit that Ulfric knew? Fine, he may have built a certain image of himself for his fans, but what did it matter? Was being a Stormcloak spy really preferable to ruining that image?

"Well, to answer that, we need to go back to a certain concert in Windhelm."

…

It was a much better excuse than his usual one.

An official performance in Windhelm. To honor that Nordic usurper no less. Alec would ordinarily consider the political connotations a bit more carefully, but… with how often he was visiting Windhelm and praising the city for its rustic charm wherever he went, it would have been strange to refuse. And he worried that it might anger that man himself. It was possible that his future visits to Windhelm might become difficult.

He could not let that happen.

Nobody would keep him away from his little duskdrop.

It was making Alec a bit uncomfortable to be invited here personally by the leader of the rebellion. It was hard enough to adjust to the tensions escalating into a full out war, not to mention the sudden resurgence of dragons, but getting Ulfric Stormcloak's attention was just not something that Alec wanted.

But it was probably only natural. He had become quite the household name over the years. He was well known in Cyrodiil especially, but the nobility in other Provinces were also usually aware of who he was.

He didn't exactly relish this 'opportunity', but it was good to be back in Windhelm again. He couldn't wait to see Llarni. She was growing up so fast. It always filled him with strange melancholy when he thought about it. He was missing out on so much. But then he got to spend time in Luaffyn's home and he always felt like their cold relationship was simply not meant for prolonged periods of time. No matter how much he tried to get their spark back, it was simply too soured by Luaffyn's fear of relying on him too much. He understood, in a way, though it broke his heart for his duskdrop's sake.

But all he could do was… try. There was nothing more to it. He was just going to enjoy his time in Windhelm by visiting the two of them and trying to get along with Luaffyn as best as he could while he was with his daughter.

But all that had to wait until the cover of the night. For now, it was his usual routine – a room at Candlehearth and a more modest performance there for the patrons. Although he suspected that this time around, it would not just be the locals. Nobles from all around were undoubtedly already gathering for his big concert in Ulfric's honor.

He was right. He got swarmed by a few people right after he entered the inn. He didn't even get to talk to that hag yet to get a room and they were already asking him about his performance. He brushed them off quickly, smiling politely and briefly answering any questions they had. But when some still seemed eager to talk to him, he decided to cut that short.

"My lovely ladies and gentlemen," he chuckled a bit as he raised his hands in mock-surrender. "I'm terribly sorry, but the road has not been kind to me and I would love to take a room and rest briefly. But I promise you, cross my heart, I will come to the common room later and play a tune or two for you."

The small crowd finally let him go, turning to hushed whispers and gasps of excitement. That should placate them for a while. He quickly moved towards the bar to speak to Elda.

"Welcome back, dear," she beamed at him brightly. He knew all about fake smiles – enough to know that hers was not a fake one. Which only made it more disturbing. So pleasant to him, but the others only ever got to see her sour and disdainful face. Especially people like Luaffyn. "I've been excited for your return ever since I heard. I couldn't get an invitation to your concert. Apparently it's only for 'select company'," she hissed angrily.

Thank the Eight for that.

"It's so lovely to see you again, milady," he gave her a small bow and a fake smile. "I'm sorry you won't be able to attend, but you can still listen to my music tonight."

"Good," she smiled once more. "I'll get you your usual room."

By now it was well practiced. He grabbed his luggage and followed Elda to his room. He would just eat some, take a quick bath and prepare for the performance upstairs. That was also a practiced process. But he wasn't going to eat in the common room today. He was in no mood for those people. Not any more than necessary.

"My dear lady, would you be so kind to get me my dinner to my room?" He asked before the woman could leave him to it.

"You won't be joining your admirers?" Elda raised her brow at him. "It must be nice to see so many taken with you."

You'd think.

Sometimes it was nice. He wasn't unappreciative. But sometimes it was a lot. He was used to it during his performances, but here, his mind was always elsewhere, filled with longing for lives that never were.

This was the place that started it all.

"I simply wish to eat in peace. I will be spending the whole evening with my admirers, not to mention the concert," he explained sheepishly.

"Alright. I'll get you something warm to fill your belly," Elda nodded.

Good. He could enjoy the quiet for a time.

…

It was different. He didn't really like this.

His performance at Candlehearth did not feel like they usually did. They felt like one of his big performances back in Cyrodiil. Those fawning fans, sometimes yelling, sometimes trying to touch him, all asking questions and clamoring for attention. He liked performing here because most patrons just stayed at their tables, listening to him. Sometimes someone came up to him to tell him they liked his music and that was enough. That was perfect. It always felt like what he wanted to feel.

Art. Not… obligation.

By now, the large performances didn't feel like sharing his music should. They felt like a job. A chore. Something he just had to get through to get his pay. And that's what it was exactly. He didn't want to do that in the first place, but the circumstances forced him into it.

'Forced'. A joke. Luaffyn didn't even want most of the money he was offering. But he still couldn't stop. For one, it was kind of too late. He was too famous in those circles. Sure, he could actually disappear into a smaller city or another Province but… what if something happened? What if he needed the money for his duskdrop. What if Luaffyn realized she was just robbing their child of a better life? Or worse, what if something happened to her? He couldn't take those chances.

So here he was, surrounded by that same crowd he was used to down south, only in Nordic edition.

He still couldn't help but get sentimental over this. Regretful.

He wished things could have been different.

As he continued to sing – the only time the crowd was actually somewhat quiet – he scanned over his fans. The people he wished he could somehow get away from. This place was supposed to be different for him but now it wasn't.

And then, he noticed something. Someone.

Was that… an elf?

An elf in Candlehearth. And it was not Luaffyn. In fact, it was not a Dunmer.

Would Elda really allow an elf here? She had been getting worse and worse about that, and from what Luaffyn had told him, most of the Dunmer didn't even try to get in anymore. They didn't have the money for Elda's prices anyway.

But this was a surprise. And Alec got a strange hunch.

Hmm… a Bosmer. He had heard some rumors. It was hard not to in Skyrim. It was hilarious. The dragons were swooping down on the Province and there came the Nordic legend to save Skyrim from destruction, to kill those beasts.

An elf.

Alec laughed so hard the first time he heard it. Oh the beautiful irony.

Hmm. He should test his theory. His song ended and just as the applause died down, he quickly struck up his lute again, playing a very different tune. The small Bosmer was not easy to spot behind the crowd, but he kept trying to see her, to see her reaction to this.

"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart."

Did she just flinch? Hah! He was probably right.

The other fans began to notice the direction of his gaze, but he didn't pay them no mind. He wanted to make sure.

"I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes."

The Bosmer's face suddenly turned bright red. Another tell. She took a few steps back quickly and threw her gaze at someone else. A Nord. He was leaning on a wall nearby, but he was not watching the elf who was looking at him. The Nord was looking at Alec.

That wouldn't have been strange if he didn't wear such an annoyed and angry expression on his face.

"With the voice wielding power of the ancient Nord arts," he continued to sing, trying to gouge the situation, but then, the girl took another step and looked towards the nearby stairs.

For an escape route.

Oh no. Not yet, darling.

Alec had an idea.

A brilliant idea.

Ulfric wanted a performance? He would get more than he bargained for.

And with how flustered the elf looked, Alec knew she would be easy to play.

He didn't finish the tune. He stopped playing right then and there and placed his lute on the ground. The crowd began to murmur in confusion, but that only served Alec to his benefit. He promptly used their stunned states to weave his way through the crowd and towards the Bosmer.

"My lady, please wait!"

She stopped, a stone's throw away from the stairs. She looked at Alec only for a second, but then her gaze fell on the crowd. People were starting to whisper to each other. Even pointing at her. And then, she threw a very longing gaze towards the stairs again.

It didn't seem like she liked the attention. Oh well. Sorry, sweetheart. But she would survive. He just needed her for a bit. If he had to do this stupid performance, he could at least push some buttons while he was at it. He knew all too well how… controversial the Dragonborn was, especially to those idiots calling themselves 'True Nords'.

For once, he didn't think about it too much. All the annoyances of having to deal with his fans in his favorite tavern, the disdain he felt for having to play at Ulfric's behest and the anger he felt at how messed up Windhelm was for elves combined into this simple plan.

It was just a little humiliation. And what could Ulfric even say to him? Alec was still going to honor the Nordic values he loved so much. It wasn't exactly his fault that their legend was an elf, was it?

"I apologize for their… impertinent reactions, my lady," he gestured towards the whispering crowd when the Dragonborn finally focused on him again. "But I must admit, I myself am quite beguiled by the sight of you. Alec, otherwise known as 'The Prince of Song'." Ugh. He hated that moniker. But it always impressed people. "Delighted to make your acquaintance," he gave her a wry smile as he gently took hold of her hand and placed a light kiss at the back of it. The girl looked flustered and shy. She would either eat that shit right up, or she would be too embarrassed to say no to him. "I have heard many stories of the Dragonborn, they speak of your strength and bravery, but if I may, none of them quite do justice to your beauty."

So easy.

The girl was nervous, spoke to him a little about his music. She seemed genuine when she said she liked his songs. That would make things even easier. Now just to fluster her even more.

"Truth is, I only decided to spend the night at this place and entertain the crowd due to the rumors of your presence in this… establishment. I am currently housed at the Palace of the Kings as an honored guest of that boor Ulfric," he waved his hand dismissively.

A blatant lie. But the crowd behind him was too distracted with their gossiping to actually listen to their conversation, and this girl clearly had no idea who he was. He could say anything to get into her good graces. And calling Ulfric a 'boor' would surely endear him to her. That was the only part which wasn't a lie.

He explained to her some about why he was performing for Ulfric – about how the man wanted to impress some noble. Alec honestly made a lot of assumptions there. Ulfric did mention some Lady Such-and-such and how much of a fan she was in his summons, but Alec knew nothing about her. He assumed Ulfric was just buttering him up so that an Imperial would be willing to come here at all.

"Umm… why did you come perform here again?" She gave him a skeptical look. She seemed so confused, the poor thing. So easy to manipulate to where he needed her.

"To meet you, my fair Dragonborn, of course!" He exclaimed. "I simply must have you as a personal guest at my concert tomorrow eve. Such famed personage, and such a beauty too! You will without a doubt fill me with inspiration and help me survive and even thrive in this uncultured place." Aaah, sweet drivel.

The elf was practically bright red from her neck to her ears. She looked at him in such confusion. He understood what she was questioning. He needed to double down a bit.

"I am scheduled to perform tomorrow at the Palace for Ulfric's acquaintance and some select crowd of Skyrim's nobility. I simply wished to invite you to enjoy my music again. To have someone capable of appreciating the beauty of artistic expression there, it would ease my trepidations about the performance. Truth be told, I am uncertain if Ulfric has that many… followers who would be able to ascertain the value of a heartfelt song."

She continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. She seemed even more nervous now, but he could tell just how uncomfortable she was with saying 'no'.

"I'm… not sure that is a good idea. I am probably not welcome at the Palace…" she mumbled a bit incoherently, lowering her gaze briefly.

Of course you're not, sweetheart. That's the best part of this!

"My lady, please! You must! Do not worry about being welcome, you will be my guest! I am certain to bungle my performance spectacularly without knowing there is at least one soul who can understand my aesthetic expression. And who knows what that boor does to people who disappoint him…" he whispered the last part again. Making her pity him or worry about him could work well.

That did it.

She finally sighed in defeat and nodded her head slowly, earning a wide relieved smile from Alec. But she did have a… condition.

"Can my companion come too?" She asked, inclining her head towards that grumpy Nord, who was still standing nearby, leaning on the wall and scowling.

That guy? Oooh. Was there a jealous lover in the mix? As if that made things harder.

Alec had so much experience with jealous husbands, it was almost second nature by now. It was so easy to turn that concern into irrational attacks. And then it was Alec who came out the more sympathetic player.

Fine. A little putdown and disdain towards him right now would rile the Nord right up. He might even cause a scene at the performance.

It was all going to be spectacularly embarrassing for the warlord of the hour.

…

"Wait… wh…" Aeyrin stared at him, slackjawed. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"What the fuck? The whole thing was some fucking manipulation? You… you fucking used her to piss off Ulfric?!" Bishop yelled angrily. What a fucking asshole! Bishop had half a mind to unsheathe his sword again and cut his head off at last.

If it wasn't for the kid…

"All those things you said! All those compliments…" Aeyrin shook her head. Alec gave her a look that almost screamed 'you poor naïve thing', which infuriated her, but she was not upset about his compliments being fake. She just… felt stupid and confused. She really had no idea that he had ever been anything but a somewhat foolish bard who got himself into trouble because of a misguided infatuation.

It was still hard to believe.

"Why did you even want to have dinner with me after the concert? Why did you ask to travel with me?!" If he just wanted to humiliate Ulfric, why would he ask those things at all?

"To deter you," he shrugged, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to do. "Making you more uncomfortable would get you away quickly. I couldn't have Ulfric think we were too well acquainted. You played your role and that was over after the concert."

"So you just used me. Used us. And then… discarded us?" Aeyrin shook her head at him in disbelief.

"You make it so much bigger than it is," Alec let out a sigh. "It was a… statement. No harm came to you from being a bit uncomfortable. No harm came to you from being played."

"'No harm'?! You pissed off Ulfric!" Bishop growled at him. "You fucking poked an angry bear with a sharp stick!"

"If he didn't get angry at me because of the concert, everything with us could have gone differently," Aeyrin gasped in realization. The meeting with Ulfric she had a day after the performance went… antagonistically, to say the least. Maybe he wouldn't have been like that. Maybe things could have been different.

"With 'us'? With you and Ulfric?" Alec scoffed almost in disbelief. "Darling, you are an elf that not only threatens his power, but his image and his own importance. How could you possibly think that the concert changed anything? I didn't invite you to make Ulfric hate you. I did it because he already did. Everything you are is a threat to him. You cannot possibly think there was ever a chance for him to see you differently."

Well… that was… a good point, but still. He manipulated them!

"So fucking what? You claim it did no harm, but it sure as fuck did no good to anyone," Bishop snarled. "You felt better about yourself? Making fun of Ulfric. What fucking good did it do to you? Look what happened!"

"No… you're right," Alec lowered his head. "It did no good. I thought it would have. It's… the same thing I do now. I know people. I can… influence people well. And I thought to undermine him with that stunt. But it only reinforced his decision."

"'Decision'?" Aeyrin scowled.

"Don't be fooled," he shook his head. "His intention was the same before and after I humiliated him. The concert was just an excuse. He didn't try to make me his 'recruiter' out of spite for that concert. The whole performance happened because that was his intention from the start. That was why he invited me at all."

"Why? Why you and not one of the other thousands of fops just like you?" Bishop scoffed.

"Because… because he thought he had leverage."

…

He chased off the Dragonborn and her angry Nord quickly enough. There was no reason to prolong this.

Ulfric looked eager to talk to him. And pissed off. He would probably spew some passive-aggressive shit, to which Alec would just feign ignorance, talking about how he wanted to honor the Nordic legend and their struggles with the dragons.

Or maybe Ulfric wouldn't even do that. Maybe he wouldn't stoop to that in front of his companion.

"Bard," the man nodded at him as he approached, his stony expression betraying nothing, but the anger was palpable in his voice.

'Bard'. How… civilized to call one by their profession. He was surprised Ulfric didn't just call him 'Imperial'.

"Lord Stormcloak," Alec bowed in feigned respect. "I hope you and your lovely companion have enjoyed my performance."

"Very much so," Ulfric… smiled. That was somehow disturbing. But he was just putting up a front. He didn't want to appear angry in front of the noble, surely. "Let me introduce Lady Anvil-Torn. She is a great admirer of yours."

"A pleasure," Alec promptly took the woman's hand and ghosted a kiss above it. She looked so giddy, he almost thought she would giggle. "I understand that you are the reason Lord Stormcloak invited me here."

"Ah yes, I was a bit apprehensive about the rumors of cutting all ties to the southern Province, but the High King proved that there is no reason to fear that. If a man of your station is willing to support his rule, Lord Alec," she nodded thoughtfully.

'Support his rule'? Did she really assume this was what was happening? And was she really so naïve to think the ties to Cyrodiil would be intact because one bard was scared to say no to Ulfric?

Unbelievable.

Alec tried not to show how this enraged him. But he could not help himself entirely. He made sure not to sound snide. He made sure not to sound condescending. Only pure confusion.

"I'm sorry, I thought the High King was dead."

The woman gasped in shock, briskly shaking her head, undoubtedly ready to correct Alec. But surprisingly enough, Ulfric smiled again.

Maybe he was just too stupid to see through Alec's façade…

"It is alright, Lady Anvil-Torn. We have to forgive our southern friend. He is clearly not familiar with Skyrim's politics," he calmed the woman down. He really did seem at ease, as if he thought Alec had no ill intent. That should have been comforting. But somehow, it disturbed Alec beyond what he had expected. He had expected veiled insults, angry outbursts, perhaps. But not this.

"Apologies, Lord Stormcloak. I am truly not very familiar with your situation, unfortunately," Alec confirmed.

"Naturally," Ulfric's smile remained on his face before he turned to the woman by his side. "I'm very sorry, Lady Anvil-Torn, but would you excuse us for a moment? I enjoyed the bard's performance and, since it seemed to put your mind at ease about our… resourcefulness, I would like to make more of these arrangements."

"Oh!" The noblewoman almost squeeked. "I'm sure we'll have more opportunity to talk later, Lord Alec," she winked at him. Subtle… Alec was getting out of here as soon as possible. He wanted to go see his duskdrop.

Now he would probably just have to endure some anger from Ulfric.

"Come, bard. Let us go speak in your chamber," the man inclined his head towards the backstage room.

Alec felt a shiver run down his spine, but he reminded himself that there was nothing to worry about. Ulfric couldn't really do anything to him, no matter the privacy. Everyone knew Alec was here. And Ulfric surely couldn't risk losing the clout he had just gained with this performance, despite the humiliation. It was still an achievement to have Alec here, apparently. Ulfric just probably wanted to yell.

Alec smiled in turn and led Ulfric back to the room. It was gonna be fine. It was not as if Ulfric could explain or justify Alec getting hurt. Sure, he just pissed off a man who murdered a High King by Shouting at him, but that was a strange political move. This… would be just viewed as erratic and petty.

He didn't show any apprehension, even closed the door behind them himself, and he stood in his provisional room, waiting for Ulfric to speak. Or yell. But the man was still smiling.

"Bravo," Ulfric smirked at him. Huh? "You know the game you play well. I did not expect you to bring that elf here."

"I'm sorry, Lord Stormcloak. Are you talking about the Dragonborn?" Alec tilted his head, still feigning his confusion. Though she had been the only elf in the audience, of course. So Ulfric did see through it? Well, there was no reason to admit to anything yet.

"High King Stormcloak," Ulfric corrected him with an intimidating tone in his voice. But he still didn't break his smile. "There's no need to pretend, bard. It was quite impressive. And subtle enough. You would be quite the asset."

"I'm sorry… asset?" Alec's eyes widened. What? He did not expect the conversation to go this way. What did he mean by 'asset'? Asset to Ulfric? How? Why?

"Yes. Many bards are. The good ones, at least. Your fame and influence makes you perfect for my purposes, not to mention your race and origin. Just imagine this story," Ulfric sighed almost dreamily. "A famous minstrel, beloved by the Empire, for some reason keeps escaping over and over to… well… the center of the Skyrim rebellion of course. Because he saw the worst of the nobles and the politicians pulling the strings down south. The Thalmor ruling over the common people. He found the truth in Windhelm. And the courage to spread that truth."

"A… a nice… piece of fiction," Alec couldn't help but crack a bit. What? Was he suggesting what Alec thought he was suggesting? Seriously? That was not going to happen. He was not going to spread propaganda for this man, no matter how much money he got offered.

"I don't think you have any trouble making fiction seem… believable," Ulfric suggested.

"That… may be so, Lord Stormcloak," Alec emphasized his 'incorrect' title. "But I believe that you are better off investing your funds elsewhere. Perhaps more of that 'brute force', which I hear you are quite fond of." He should really stay in his own wheelhouse. This was not happening. Not in a million years would he spread this racist prick's poison. Not when he knew full well what it did to people. Not when he knew full well what mistrust it sewn in Luaffyn and what dismal prospects it held for his precious duskdrop.

Ulfric actually chuckled at that comment. "Bard, I have plenty of 'brute force'. And I am not offering you money. I am offering to save you. Save your… image."

"My… image?" Alec scowled. What was he talking about now?

"Of course. I wonder, what would your adoring fans think if they knew the truth? A secret family, living in squalor while you gallivant around the world, seducing every skirt you pass and enjoying your lavish lifestyle. What would those up here think of you spawning another greyskin? And down south, what would they think of you leaving your family in Windhelm?"

Alec was speechless for once in his life.

The threats be damned. He was just… shocked. Shocked that Ulfric knew about Luaffyn and Llarni. Shocked that he… that he thought that his image was going to persuade him to help make the world worse for them than it already was.

He was not just shocked.

He was seething.

"Lord Stormcloak," Alec answered after a while of silence through gritted teeth. "You spread all the venom you wish, spin your tales however you like. If I am half as good as you say I am, I will come out of it on top yet again. And if not, perhaps that will convince you to leave me be. But do not think for a moment that I will support you in your fight against those I care about. Your fight against the last shreds of humanity and dignity that your city still has. Go ahead. Ruin whatever image there is of me. I welcome you to try."

Welcome was the right word. Everything always seemed clearer in anger for some reason.

He would welcome it.

All of it. If Ulfric actually did this to him, well… who cared? This was not the life Alec wanted to live anyway.

It all seemed clear now. Ulfric didn't just invite him for who he was out in the public. Ulfric invited him because of who he was in secret. He thought he had leverage for some strange recruiting tactic, or perhaps a coercion tool to get nobles on his side.

But he miscalculated. The image Alec cultivated on the surface as the pinnacle of life and glamor was a farce on its own. He would want nothing more than for the truth to be exposed. He would want nothing more than to be forced out of this life and forced to make the hard choice he had never been able to make – to stop relying on the riches and find some other way to make sure that his duskdrop was safe and provided for.

"I don't think you know what I'm capable of," Ulfric's smile finally wavered. This time, he only looked at Alec darkly.

"I know very well what you are capable of," Alec shook his head in palpable disdain. "But you should recognize the games that you are not versed in, Lord Stormcloak. You are clearly self-aware of those lacks enough to seek my help. I wish you were self-aware enough to know when you have no cards to play."

"Ignorance doesn't usually lead to victory, bard. And believe me – subjugation comes with significantly less pain and loss when it's quick," he scoffed. "You know where to find me when you reconsider."

'Subjugation'?

Who the fuck did he think he is?

He could keep dreaming.

Ulfric walked out of the room calmly, leaving Alec behind seething. The nerve of that man.

He had nothing to blackmail Alec with. Not when all he thought to gain was stealing the life Alec never wanted in the first place.

There was nothing the man could take away from him.

…

"You… refused?" Aeyrin stared at him in confusion. "How… what?"

"Why the fuck are you doing this then?" Bishop threw up his arms in exasperation. How the fuck did he make a story this fucking long and there were still no answers to his reasons for all of this! He fucking promised to explain why he was doing this!

So fucking frustrating.

"What happened to change your mind?" Aeyrin echoed the question.

Though Alec only looked at them as if they were dumb.

"Did you forget?" He gaped at them. "You thought you'd break the news to me yourselves. Luaffyn is dead."

"Then she can't stop you anymore from taking your girl out of there!" Bishop growled. Fuck, he was so pissed and frustrated. Talking to the bard was such a chore. And he was still angry about being manipulated at that concert. "Why would you fucking go running back to Ulfric instead of taking her away from that shithole?!"

"I got a word from… one of the Dunmer. The letter told me what happened. A serial killer. Insane, right? And then… two days later, when I was on my way to my duskdrop," Alec's voice cracked and suddenly he seemed to have much more trouble speaking than before. "I got another letter."

"Oh Gods. Did something happen to her?" Aeyrin asked worriedly. If that bastard Calixto actually tried to hurt a child too…

"No. Not really. But Ulfric invited me to talk about our… unfinished business."

"Are you… suggesting that… he had something to do with it?" Aeyrin's eyes widened.

"I don't know," Alec let his gaze drop. "I… think he did."

"It was a serial killer. He targeted young girls in the night," Bishop shook his head. Did this guy really abandon his daughter and start working for Ulfric because of that fucker Calixto? Because he just assumed Ulfric had something to do with it?

"That's the thing," Alec looked up at Bishop, anger flashing through his eyes. "I knew about all of it, those fucked up orders of Ulfric's, everything. I knew that Luaffyn lost her job for good. She had a child at home. What in the world would she be doing out at night? Making herself a target? Breaking the law? For what? Why? It made no sense."

Well… he had some valid points. But still…

"You still subjected to him based on your suspicion," Bishop growled.

"Never!" Alec growled angrily. "Not suspicion. When I arrived… guards wouldn't let me go anywhere until I visited him. And then… Ulfric… well… strongly suggested that I should reconsider before he takes away more than he already has."

"So he admitted it? Or he just played into the situation and…" Bishop countered again, but he got interrupted promptly.

"Don't you get it?! It doesn't matter! It doesn't fucking matter one bit if he had any part in Luaffyn's death or not! I don't care if he would have done anything to 'take away more' or not, I don't care if he was lying. But he threatened my daughter! How could I ever take a chance on that?!" Alec's voice didn't even crack anymore, it was just full-blown hysteria. His eyes even filled with tears as he yelled. "How could I not do anything he asked, just to keep her safe?"

Silence spread over the hillside again. Nobody knew how to respond to that. There was nothing to say to disparage his decision. Whether he was lying or not, Ulfric cornered him.

"He… he has her watched, guarded," Alec broke the silence after a long while. "She's staying at the Dunmer temple, but… I know that if she in any way appeared on the streets… it's too risky. And… he has me watched constantly too. Who is going to take her away from that place? The elves can't do anything without my help and I can't help anyone when I am under constant watch. Even when I sleep. I can't even send a letter. I can't do a damn thing. Can't even… send her money anymore."

"But you decided to fight back now," Bishop noted. Why? Why is he risking it now?

"It's my first chance to fight back. I would have gladly obeyed all of Ulfric's commands if I could be sure it will keep Llarni safe. But it won't. She will never be safe if I help keep that monster in power. She would be lucky if she only lost her home. She could lose everything, just because one of his zealots doesn't like the look of her. And I'm here, helping create them. I can't. You are my first chance to do something. Anything!"

Silence again. Alec's desperation rang clearly through the air. And while Aeyrin was not sure if it excused his actions here, she at least began to understand why he goaded all those people.

Did he even have any other choice?

And did they have any other choice now?

She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to keep her own tears at bay. It was hard to listen to that story, no matter how well he told it. It was hard seeing him break down like that. And now she couldn't even fathom asking anything else than what she did.

"What can we do?"