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Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

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“The Dark Brotherhood?” Aela breathed. “Elisif, you never told me this!” Kodlak likewise had turned full on to face her.

“The filthy cowards,” he growled. “Who would dare call them in?”

“I don't know,” Elisif whispered tearfully. “It could be anyone!”

“Well, it's no one in Jorrvaskr, I can promise you that,” said Aela fiercely, stroking Elisif's hair. “Kodlak, she can stay here, can't she?”

“Ordinarily, I'd say yes of course,” Kodlak sighed. “But Elisif, the entire city knows you're here, they just saw you lead troops into battle.”

“I didn't lead anyone!” Elisif protested but Aela brushed that right off.

“Of course you did, you stood up there and gave a pre-battle speech and you fought alongside them, they'll all be singing of Elisif the mighty Dragonborn warrior queen tonight.”

“Oh gods,” Elisif whispered, not feeling at all mighty. “So what do I do? Word will get round, if I'm not in Solitude, this is the first place they'll look!”

“I don't know, Elisif,” Kodlak sighed. “If I had more people, if the twins would come back from whatever insane venture they're on... but no matter. Elisif, could you go back to High Hrothgar? If you went there in secret, the trail might grow cold...”

“The hunt won't go away though, will it?” Elisif sighed. “And I can't hide with the Greybeards forever. We're Nords, we're Companions, we face our problems head on!”

“Well said,” said Kodlak, patting her hand proudly. “I'd help, we all would... if only we knew where their Sanctuary was. Do you think anyone in the Legion would know?”

Elisif didn't know and wasn't hopeful. The Legion didn't concern itself with local law enforcement issues. No, what she needed was someone in an entirely different agency. Someone used to watching from the shadows, making things happen from behind the scenes. Someone good at ferreting out secrets.

“No,” said Elisif softly. “But I know someone who might. Kodlak, can I stay here tonight? I'm exhausted and need to rest, and this place is probably safer than Dragonsreach. But tomorrow, well, there's someone not too far from Whiterun who might be able to help.”

“Yes,” said Aela thoughtfully, “I do believe she might. I'll come with you tomorrow. Someone should be watching your back, make sure you get there in one piece.”

Elisif squeezed Aela's hand in gratitude. Maybe she was in danger, maybe half of Skyrim was out to get her... but she still had her allies. Things weren't as dire as they seemed.

~~~~~~

A/N: And next chapter the main quest reconvenes as everyone meets up in Riverwood and plans their next move. I think you will enjoy it. :)

Awww, I feel terrible that you wrote this and it's sat here unloved for 5 days until it finally made it onto Delicious :( It's so sweet! But not nauseatingly so.

I'll try to write a better comment later. For now, know that the story's been read and "awww"ed at by me and the others on my Elder Scrolls chat.

Mira didn’t see the Mad God again until after a trip to Sovngarde and the defeat of a particular World-Eater. When she came into her little Whiterun house with the intent to collapse face-first onto her bed and never awaken, he greeted her with a manic grin.

She knew it was foolish to expect she’d never see him again. She knew it was foolish but part of her had hoped...

“Oh, why are you here?”

“I’m here to congratulate you on a job well done, of course. You are now on a very short list of people who have directly prevented the end of the world.”

“Why would you care about the end of the world?”

“I don’t, not really. My Isles will go on even if a dragon were to swallow every soul in the Nords’ afterlife. But there hasn’t been a hero like you in two hundred years. ‘Dragonborn.’ Bit of a fancy title, that. Like ‘Nerevarine.’ But I suppose you don’t pick them. And you aren’t champion of anything but even so, you remind me of someone I-- knew.”

Mira frowned, brows knitting together as she contemplated this moment of strange seriousness. And it really was just a moment. His tone shifted to almost-sane only on the last handful of words.

And... then it was gone, just as suddenly as it had arrived.

“There hasn’t been a Dragonborn in almost two hundred years either, has there? Such a shame. The Septim emperors were always the most interesting. Not always the most stable, of course, but you have one family in charge for so long there’ll always be some like my dear Pelagius. And every so often, along comes a Martin. Now that was a true Septim. Dull as dishwater but I’d still call him good. I should have him over for dinner.”

“Dinner...?” Mira had heard of Martin Septim’s sacrifice, of course. Few and far between were the people who hadn’t, especially when she was younger and the event was still fresh in the minds of enough people.

That was as far as the recognition went, however. And in fact, Mira was dreadfully confused by the rest of the conversation. Unsurprisingly, she supposed. She figured the day Sheogorath started making sense to her more often than not was the day she’d have to worry.

“Never mind that,” the Madgod said and Mira pulled herself out of her thoughts to listen once more. “I came here to congratulate you. So, mortal, how do you feel about your recent accomplishments?”

Mira had to think about that, just for a second. “Tired. Really very tired. Good, though. They’ll be singing about me for a while, I imagine.”

“That they will. Then they’ll forget your name and you’ll be lost to history like all other worthwhile heroes.”

She frowned. “But… but that’s--”

“Oh, your accomplishments will be remembered. Someone stopped the dragon, that won’t be denied. But beyond that? Well, just wait and see.”

Mira didn’t really want to wait for such a time, and really hoped that she’d be a pile of ash in a tomb somewhere before it happened.

“You don’t like the sound of that. I can see it on your face. At least you aren’t likely to live long enough to notice it.” It was like he read her mind, or it would have been had she not been really obvious about what she was thinking.

“Tell me something, would you?” she asked.

“Flesh atronachs are not good with children.”

She blinked. “Not… not what I meant. I meant, answer a question for me?”

Which earned her an expectant look from the Madgod, and surprising silence. She’d take it, she supposed.

“Even if no one remembers me, what I did, it mattered, right?”

“Your acts heroism will not affect me in any way but I’ll be sure to spare a passing thought about you here and there. Think of what those who are still alive because their fragile little world hasn’t ended yet think.”

“I… suppose that’s one way to put it. A good way to put it…”

“And stop feeling so down on yourself. Do I need to give you another staff?”

“Gods, please do not do that. The Wabbajack already got me into far too much trouble to--”

“The Staff of the Everscamp! Now that one’s a favourite of mine. A classic. Who doesn’t love a good, inconvenient curse?”

“No, no, I don’t know what that staff is but I’m sure I don’t want it.”

“Oh, if you insist. Maybe I’ll leave it lying around for some other unwary mortal to stumble upon.”

“Good… good idea?” She wasn’t sure what to say. A cursed staff sounded like a terrible thing to leave lying around. And knowing her luck, she’d stumble across whoever ultimately picked it up and end up volunteering to help them and…

“It is, isn’t it? I’ll do just that. Have you ever seen a scamp, Mira? Nasty little buggers. And someone’s just about to discover a handful of them!”

And with that he was gone, and Mira took the opportunity to fall face-first onto her bed.

That was the first time he used my name.

Do want!

Oooooh. I'd absolutely love to see this.

PLEASE please continue this! OP is absolutely starving for her Vilkas menu!

Dear heavens, this is so wonderful!! I just can't wait for more, you've done such an AMAZING WORK!!

Ulfric, and Arria, and jiperosjpgvjadipohvgshdbviulsah<çoeghwdvs

ALL MY HEARTS TO YOU, A!A!!!

Maybe now they will all be more honest! Basically are a family! Not? I wait for the new chapter, also to know Aela and Farkas! : D

All things considered, Bryn would make one hell of a Blade. Seriously. Of all the people the player can meet in Skyrim, Bryn is the one guy I'd never want to get on the bad side of. His personality is easygoing, but if you actually stop to consider, he also radiates pure deadly competence like no one else does. Mercer was pathetic. Karliah; a tryhard. Vex, Delvin and the others? Nowhere near Bryn's league. I didn't even get that vibe of any of the *Companions.* The only other character I felt like should never be screwed with under any circumstances is Isran of the Dawngaurd. Game mechanics aside, those two and Delphine are probably some of the deadliest people in Skyrim. Yeah, Brynjolf would make one hell of a Blade. I bet her can juggle being Guildmaster with it too.

This is going to get interesting. With Bryn working close with Delphine, he, and by extension the Theives Guild, are going to be much closer to Elisif than they'd be if the Dragonborn were most anyone else. More importantly, they'll be closer to Elisif's /enemies./ Biggest among the, the Brotherhood. The Guild really are the best equipped and trained to fight them on their own ground. What a bloody and absolutely VICIOUS shadow war that would be.

I hope you are still there even after a long time because we are all here waiting for you!

As soon as Ariella walked through the doors of Jorrvaskr a mug of mead was pressed into her hands and she was guided to a seat. She sat down and as soon as she looked up the companions all started to ask questions at once. She looked at them, unable to understand what questions were being asked or what ones she should answer.

“Companions.” Kodlak’s voice rung through the mead hall and demanded silence, everyone was silent, waiting for their Harbinger to speak. “One at a time, don’t overwhelm the girl.”

He sat off to the side of the group on a bench with Vilkas. They of course knew whatever she was about to say already.

“Well it’s just, how could you keep such a secret? Why didn’t you tell us straight away?” Ria said, excited as much as she was accusatory.

Ariella glanced around the room at the circle members, she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets around here.

“I just…”

“Clearly she wanted to take all the glory for herself.” Farkas said, earing a chuckle from most companions. Ariella smiled at him, “Wants to kill every Dragon on her own. Well I believe we’re one to one.”

“Yes Farkas. I’ll be sure to keep count.” Ariella collected her thoughts, “Honestly? I just didn’t want”–she gestured to every thing around her-“this.”

“This?” Farkas questioned

“Attention.” She glanced down and the other Companions chuckled.

“Well you’ve certainly gained the attention of all of Whiterun now.” Skjor chimed in from his place at the back of the group.

“How long have you known that you’re Dragonborn?” Ria asked frustrated at the turn the conversation was taking.

“Um, since my testing when Vilkas and I killed that dragon?” Ariella was confused; she thought that would have been fairly obvious.

“What’s it like?” Athis asked, “Absorbing the soul.”

“Uh… Kinda sickening?” Ariella made a face, clearly that wasn’t the answer they had been hoping for. Yet the accepted the answer anyway.

The questions were all then about dragon language, shouting, learning words and her trip to the Greybeards. It had almost gone into a tangent about her and Vilkas but Farkas quickly changed topics, much to Ariella’s relief.

After a while Ariella excused herself, claiming to be worn about from the Dragon attack and retreated downstairs. She had hoped Vilkas would come down too but the mob of curious companions quickly shifted over to him for more questioning.

It didn’t matter. He would be down sooner or later.

Ariella carefully got out a book she had purposefully kept at the bottom of the crate with the books about companions. She opened it to the first page.

Regrets of a Harbinger – The Final Journal Entry of Terrfyg

Aww thanks very much, it's nice to know that even one person's read it and liked it, so that's great, thank you.

Depends on what sport we're talking about. Competitive pub-brawling?

Hello, little elf. Good to see *you* here again! And always good to see Farkas, of course.

author!anon here!

First of all gosh, fifth or sixth reread? That sure is flattering! And indeed, Audric has little preference regarding the sex of his partners. He is enamored of the very idea of people - the variety! The intrigue!

Though it does amuse me to imagine that he is as intimidated as he is aroused by the lovely women of Skyrim

the situation is hot! all coming out now!

He is quite a bad-ass, it must be said. A lovely man, very charming but in game, he has no hesitation about giving kill orders when he has to. No sentimentality there. I was wondering how involved to make him against the Dark Brotherhood, if perhaps he might have doubts... but now I'm thinking he probably wouldn't if it came right down to it. Business is business, after all. And can't you just see him being all: "Astrid! Good to see you again. How've you been? This is a very nice Sanctuary you have here, lass. Be a great shame if anything were to happen to it, wouldn't it now?"

Yes. This must be done. I do not have space in this story for a long and drawn out shadow war as a full-on Guild vs Brotherhood show-down is a fic in its own right. But Brynjolf taking a leading role in the Sanctuary Job... yes. Definitely. (Especially when he finds out about the bounty the Penitus Oculatus have out on them...)

A/N: This chapter. Oh my word, this chapter. The key character in this one wasn't even supposed to be in this fic, but he managed to worm his way in anyway. On the other hand, it was a lot of fun to write.

Summary: Elisif turns to her Blades for help, and receives a couple of new allies and a place to run to. However, it's the encounter none of them expected that might just prove the most useful of all.

Morning found Elisif saying goodbye to Kodlak, leaving a note for Balgruuf saying she had urgent business elsewhere and couldn't stay but that she was sorry for getting upset at him the previous day. Then Aela was sneaking her out of a secret tunnel under the Skyforge, whispering for her not to tell anyone any of this was here, and the two of them were fleeing south to Riverwood in the early pre-dawn light.

The sun was up by the time they reached the Sleeping Giant and while a few villagers were up and about, the place was still quiet. Delphine was nowhere in sight, but Orgnar pointed them at her bedroom.

“She said to send you both in if you turned up,” Orgnar told Elisif. “She only just got back in herself late last night, mind. Had to leave in a hurry on an urgent trip east. You're lucky you caught her.”

Elisif thanked him and pushed the door open. A very loud and ominous creaking sound echoed through the inn as she did.

“Oh yeah,” Orgnar grinned. “It does that. I keep offering to oil it for her, but she keeps saying no. I think she makes it do that on purpose.”

Sure enough, it had woken Delphine, who was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes and blinking in the sunlight.

“What – El – Maia?” she asked, recollecting herself in time and glaring at Elisif as her eyes focused on the young Jarl. “You are supposed to be in Solitude!”

This. This was why Elisif hadn't wanted to come.

“Well, something came up and I had to leave in a hurry,” Elisif hissed, closing the door behind her once Aela and she were both inside. “And a good thing I did, the Stormcloaks attacked Whiterun!”

“What??” That had Delphine's attention. Flinging herself out of bed and reaching for her leather armour, the Breton woman was now fully awake. “What happened? Is the city still standing?”

“Don't worry,” Aela grinned. “The city held. Balgruuf had the good sense to send to the Legion for help, we sent the Stormcloaks packing.”

Delphine sat back down on the bed, pulling on her boots and looking relieved. “Good. If Whiterun had fallen... I haven't always seen eye to eye with Balgruuf, and Ulfric and I go way back. But Ulfric's playing right into Thalmor hands with this war – well, that shouldn't surprise me. But never mind. You both look fine and Whiterun's still standing, so that's the main thing. I imagine you want to know how the job at the Embassy went, don't you?”

Among other things, yes. Elisif nodded and Delphine got up and went to her wardrobe, flinging it open and unlocking the door.

“Come on,” she said, motioning for them both to head down the tunnel. “We've got a lot to discuss.”

Elisif followed Delphine, looking around her in awe at the secret cellar filled with secret supplies.

“How much stuff have you got in here?” she whispered.

“Enough,” was all Delphine would say to that. “Now, I hope you don't mind, but I've got a couple of guests staying over. I believe you've already met one of them.”

Two men were lying on bedrolls on the floor, one old man in a filthy tunic that had once been white, and the other a familiar face in black leather armour this time.

“Hello there, lass,” 'Ragnar' grinned as he got to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes. “Good to see you again. You're looking well. Recovered from your big night at the Embassy?”

“I'm still not interested,” Elisif growled, folding her arms and glaring at him. Maybe Delphine trusted him, that didn't mean Elisif was going to. He was clearly some sort of rogue – no one who'd spent their entire life on the right side of the law would have got in and out of the Thalmor Embassy as easily as he'd appeared to.

“Brynjolf,” Delphine sighed as she made her way over to the table. “Elisif's a young woman of refined tastes, she doesn't need you bothering her.”

“Brynjolf here's an old friend of mine with extensive experience of infiltration and retrieval,” Delphine continued. “There was no one else I trusted with the job and after finding out what was at stake, he's decided to join up and give us a hand. Brynjolf, this is Jarl Elisif, as you know, although only between us. When we're among outsiders, she goes by the name of Maia and is just a humble mercenary.”

“Not terribly humble in that get up,” Brynjolf said, looking her over. “That gear's rather nice, and as for that glowing sword...” He actually whistled. “Nice piece of kit you've got there, lass.”

“Quite,” said Elisif tersely. “But it's the only gear I have so it stays.”

“Oh, I wasn't suggesting you give it up,” Brynjolf said, looking thoughtful. “Only it's likely to attract attention if you walk around populated areas.”

“What, like thieves, you mean?” Aela said, remembering where she'd seen armour like Brynjolf's before.

“It's not the thieves that bother me,” Elisif said, shivering as she remembered that Argonian assassin.

“Nor should it be,” said Delphine, calling them all to attention again. “We've all got bigger problems than petty thieving to worry about. Aela, welcome back. Good to have you back with us. Is your presence likely to be temporary or permanent?”

Aela leaned forward, resting her hands on the table opposite Delphine. “Let's just say I think Elisif is going to need my help for a while longer, and I'm not sure I want to leave her alone with these two strangers when I don't know who they are.”

“In that case, we're glad to have you aboard,” said Delphine, lips quirking in a smile. While it was clear she didn't entirely approve of Aela's reasoning, it was also clear they needed all the help they could get. “Brynjolf, Esbern, this is Aela the Huntress, one of the Companions. I've already introduced Brynjolf, but Esbern here is an old friend of mine from... from before. He's the greatest dragonlore expert the Blades had and he's who the Thalmor were trying to find. Fortunately we got to him first. Esbern... this is Elisif. The Dragonborn.”

“The Dragonborn,” Esbern breathed, stepping forward into the light so Elisif could see him clearly for the first time. Nord, like her, must be in his sixties if not older, clearly having had a rough life if the state of his clothes was anything to go by. He must have been on the run from the Thalmor too. Elisif felt a wave of sympathy for the man. Not easy being on the run for anyone, but at his time of life, he deserved better.

“Is it true, what Delphine says? You can really Shout? Really take a dragon's soul?” Esbern was gazing at her in awe, as if she was the answer to his prayers. Elisif nodded, smiling herself at the genuine delight on his face.

“It's true. I really can,” Elisif promised. “If we run into a dragon, I'll show you although I hope we don't.”

“I hope so too, although I fear it will be otherwise,” Esbern sighed. “But never mind that, you're Dragonborn! This is marvellous news! The world isn't doomed! There is hope! Young lady, you can't even begin to understand what this means for us all.”

“Here we go,” Delphine sighed, rolling her eyes. “Elisif, you'll have to bear with him, he's a little... well, he's got some odd ideas, that's all.”

“You won't be quite so flippant when I'm proved right, and so far I have been,” Esbern said, reaching into his pack for some books. “Here, the prophecy in the Book of the Dragonborn. Once something all Blades knew by heart, although in recent years it appears most of them have been pre-occupied with other matters.” This was followed by a pointed glare at Delphine, and Elisif decided she liked this Esbern. She sidled over, looking over his shoulder at the prophecy he indicated.

“When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”

Esbern stood back after reading it out, indicating the words. “It's all come true, you know. The Imperial Simulacrum, the Warp in the West, the fall of the Tribunal and the Red Year, the Oblivion Crisis, the fall of the Imperial City and... well, the last two lines speak for themselves.”

When the Snow Tower lay sundered, kingless and bleeding. Skyrim, ripped apart by civil war and with no king. Ulfric had a lot to answer for, she knew that... but the return of the World-Eater?

“Wait, Alduin the World-Eater?” Elisif gasped. “The dragon that will eat the world at the end of time??” She felt her knees tremble as she saw Esbern nod, entirely serious. “He's real?” she gasped.

“Oh yes, quite real,” Esbern confirmed. “If my suspicions are correct, it was him who tore Helgen apart and has been raising the others.”

Elisif remembered the black dragon that had been at that dragon mound near Dawnstar and felt sick to the stomach. Alduin the World-Eater, real and here, working to bring about the end of the world, and what was worse... it seemed she was the only one who could stop it.

“I have to kill Alduin or the world's doomed,” she whispered, horrified. Esbern nodded sadly.

“I'm afraid so. But Delphine and I are Blades, sworn to the service of the Dragonborn and we'll help you any way we can. Won't we, Delphine?”

“Absolutely,” Delphine promised, smiling for once, and for once, Elisif actually thought it might just be genuine. It was only Brynjolf looking nervous.

“Hey now, I didn't sign on for killing dragons, lass,” he protested. Delphine shot him a sly grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not, you're a killer shot with a bow, Bryn,” she laughed. “But don't worry, it's not all dragonslaying and providing bodyguard services to the Dragonborn. There's always been a covert ops side of things too. I'm sure we'll need your skills for that.”

“I'm all right with dragonslaying and guarding the Dragonborn,” said Aela, placing a hand on Elisif's shoulder. Elisif squeezed it, feeling reassured already.

“Thank you,” Elisif whispered. “I don't know what to say.”

“Maybe you should perhaps wait until you've heard what else Esbern has to say before passing judgement,” Delphine told her. “Esbern, tell her what you told me earlier.”

“Mmm? Oh! Yes, quite. Well, much of the ancient Akaviri dragonlore of the Blades was lost when the Thalmor sacked Cloud Ruler Temple, but I was able to save a few things. In particular, I kept this.” He placed a book on the table called Annals of the Dragonguard.

“What is it?” Elisif whispered. She'd vaguely heard of the Dragonguard but didn't know if their records would be any good. They'd never fought the World-Eater, after all.

“The records of our Akaviri predecessors, from back in the First Era,” Esbern told her. “The Skyrim Dragonguard had a great temple in the Reach, Sky Haven Temple – look, here it is on the map.”

“I know where that is,” Delphine said thoughtfully. “That's the Karthspire mountain, on a big island in the middle of the Karth river.”

“I know it too,” said Aela grimly. “It's the home of one of the bigger Forsworn camps. We had to retrieve a stolen heirloom from there last year, the place is tough. Farkas barely made it out alive, and we'd already lost a younger recruit on that job previously. They've got a Hagraven, Delphine, and she's tough even by Hagraven standards.”

Forsworn... Elisif felt her blood chill at the thought. She'd heard of them, who hadn't? The bloodthirsty marauders who roamed the hills and valleys of the Reach, robbing caravans, killing travellers, attacking outlying settlements, known for their hatred of the Nords and for worshipping strange gods and consorting with Hagravens. They were tough, violent, fanatical and in addition to wielding primitive stone weapons with a deadly skill, they were nearly all gifted in the use of magic. Torygg had told her all about them, speaking of them with a viciousness and hate that she rarely heard him use for anyone else, calling them murderers and madmen, little better than animals. Now she'd have to fight her way past them?

“Why do we need to go to Sky Haven Temple?” she asked, wondering if there was a better option available. Yes it was a secure base from the sounds of it, but surely there were other options?

Esbern flicked the book open and tapped another paragraph.

“Because it's the home of Alduin's Wall,” Esbern said, looking triumphantly at them all as if that was supposed to mean something to them. He was to be disappointed.

“You mean you've not heard of Alduin's Wall? Any of you?”

Blank looks on all faces, but it was Delphine who answered.

“Let's say we haven't,” she said delicately. “What's Alduin's Wall and how does it help us with the dragons?”

“It's a great work of art, a legendary example of ancient Akaviri stonework – really, I'm surprised none of you have heard of it...”

“Esbern,” Delphine sighed. “Please. The point?”

“The point? Right, yes, of course, I'm coming to that,” said Esbern, recollecting himself. “The point is, Alduin's Wall is where the ancient Akaviri set down in stone all their accumulated dragon lore, including the defeat of Alduin himself at the end of the Dragon War. If we can find Alduin's Wall, it may tell us how they did it and we can use the same methods they did.”

A slim chance, Elisif knew, but it was better than nothing. There were five of them after all, and what were a few Forsworn compared to the end of the world? She nodded assent at Delphine.

“Sky Haven Temple it is then,” Delphine said, taking the book and gathering her things. “Come on, let's get going. We've got no time to lose.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a bit of discussion, they decided to take the long way to the Reach – south through Falkreath and along Lake Ilinalta before bearing north then west along the south road into the Reach. Delphine felt it best to avoid Whiterun and that five of them travelling together would attract attention, so the less populated Falkreath route would be better. Elisif agreed, although not for the same reasons. The Dark Brotherhood would never think to look for her in an out of the way place like Falkreath, surely?

They reached the famous Guardian Stones about an hour out of Riverwood.

“They say those favoured by the gods can change their fate if they pray at a Guardian Stone,” Aela explained as she patted the Warrior Stone. “I'm not sure if that's true, but I used to come out here to make offerings all the time. Who knows if it worked.”

“I left some septims for the Thief Stone first time I came out this way,” said Brynjolf, stroking the Thief Stone fondly. “I don't know if it worked or not, but I'm not dead yet so that's something, right?”

Thieving. Elisif knew it. Brynjolf was far too silver-tongued for his own good and certainly anyone else's. Still, he'd got the information they'd needed from the Thalmor and helped Delphine rescue Esbern, so he couldn't be all bad. All the same, she really couldn't condone thieving.

She could use all the help she could get though. So she patted the Warrior Stone, hoping for some of it to rub off.

“Help,” she whispered. “I need to kill Alduin the World-Eater or everyone dies, both here and in the afterlife and oh god, Torygg's in Sovngarde, I don't want Alduin to eat him! So please help because I'm not sure I can do this on my own.”

The Stone felt warm to the touch and then the magic happened as light started to flow along the lines of the Warrior carving on the front before pooling in the stone's hole as the whole thing started to glow, and Elisif felt different. Stronger. More powerful. With the urge to swing Dawnbreaker into something and run howling into battle while her foes fled before her, as a woman whispered 'courage, daughter' into her ear.

“Oh,” she whispered, letting the Stone go. “Oh!” She turned to where the others were watching, a mix of surprise and pleasure on their faces. “What just happened?”

“Looks like someone's favoured by the gods,” Delphine remarked, sounding a little sarcastic, but she was smiling. “Come on, let's get going. All very well getting the blessing of the Guardian Stones but power's no good if you never use it.”

So they journeyed on, and along the way Elisif found herself getting braver. First the troll, and Elisif Shouted it down, sprinting after it and finishing it off with Dawnbreaker, with mage fire from Esbern and arrows from Aela, Delphine and Brynjolf in support. Then the wolves, and with a little help from Elemental Fury, Elisif was carving through them too. The necromancer and Atronach were a little trickier and while his fire magic sent her staggering back, Delphine charged in, her magic resistance protecting her. Elisif tried sending a few arrows the mage's way and to her surprise, some of them were even on target.

The skeletons near the junction with the road to Falkreath itself were easy prey – one strike from Dawnbreaker felled one and the fiery explosion from the death saw the other one off.

“I'm getting better at this!” Elisif called, actually starting to feel rather cheerful about how things were going.

“You weren't bad at it before!” Aela called back, grinning. Brynjolf also looked pleased, as did Esbern and Delphine... was that actual approval on the woman's face?

“You've got a way to go before you're facing down Alduin,” said Delphine, sounding only a little critical. “But you're learning.”

Elisif sheathed Dawnbreaker, feeling rather pleased with herself. Probably as close to a compliment as she was likely to get out of Delphine. She leapt off the rock, rejoining the rest of them on the road, and then her blood chilled as they all heard it, a sound out of nightmares. The howl of a savage beast.

“What was that?” Elisif whispered.

“I don't know but it's coming this way,” Delphine replied, drawing her katana.

“I know what it is,” Aela said grimly, raising her bow. “It's a -”

“HEEEELP!!!! WEREWOLF!!!!”

A flash of red as someone sprinted up from Falkreath, hair and clothes streaming behind him, a shrieking red blur that ran up and crashed straight into Elisif.

“Werewolf?” Elisif gasped. “Where? And why... hey! I remember you! You were the man with the wagon!”

“Yes!” Cicero squealed as he grabbed her shoulders, eyes shining in delight. “Cicero remembers pretty Maia! Kind Maia! Sweet and generous Maia who helped poor Cicero!” His smile faded as he stared desperately up at her. “Could sweet and heavily armed Maia and her dangerous-looking friends help poor Cicero again? Please?”

“I -,” Elisif began, but she didn't have time to answer. The werewolf that was chasing Cicero had emerged into view and would be on them in seconds. Cicero shrieked and dived into the undergrowth. Heart in her mouth, Elisif raised her weapons. The huge werewolf hadn't shown any signs of stopping... at least not until Aela fired at it.

“I know you,” Aela growled. “Time for an end to this!”

The werewolf staggered to one side, lifting its head and letting out a ferocious roar as it saw Aela standing there, and reared on its hind legs, preparing to turn on her. Elisif saw, felt her heart stop and then the world slowed down as something propelled her into action.

“FUS RO DAH!” The wolf went flying and Elisif sprang after it, weapons raised. Arrows flew at the beast, and Delphine was by her side, katana slicing into the beast, but Elisif was barely aware of anything other than her axe and Dawnbreaker carving into the werewolf's body and blood spurting out. Strike after strike after strike before it could recover and fight back... and finally it died. Elisif staggered back, exhausted, just finding the strength to clean her blades off before sitting down in the middle of the road, staring at it. Werewolf, she'd just killed a werewolf, after it had been chasing poor Cicero.

Said poor Cicero had crept out of his hiding place, scurrying over and crouching hesitantly next to her. He'd tilted his head, face pale, eyes wide and a nervous little smile on his face.

“Maia!” Cicero squeaked, cheeks flushing pink. “You saved me!” Without warning, he launched himself on to her, flinging his arms around her as he cuddled her tight, head resting on her shoulder. Which was all very lovely but didn't explain why he was here

“Cicero!” Elisif gasped, patting him awkwardly on the back. “Are you all right? What are you doing out here, did you bury your mother? Why was that werewolf chasing you?”

Cicero hesitated, letting her go and sitting back on his heels.

“Cicero brought his mother to her new crypt, yes,” he said softly, turning oddly serious. “Cicero has... laid her to rest. But Cicero didn't know what to do next so he waited, hoping for a sign. But no sign ever came.” He sighed, expression halfway between a pout and a scowl. “No sign from the gods for poor Cicero, no Words to comfort him in his hour of need, no. Is it any wonder Cicero became angry? That he lost his temper? That he became enraged after some filthy pretender mocked and slandered his poor deceased mother?” His eyes slid to the werewolf's cooling form, Aela and Delphine currently examining it, and Elisif could guess that maybe he'd got in a fight with someone who he'd not realised was a werewolf.

“Who was he?” Elisif asked. “Aela, you said you knew him.”

“That's right,” Aela nodded. “He was a Companion once. We used to hunt together... until his methods got out of hand and we asked him to leave. That was ten, twelve years ago? I didn't know what had happened to him and didn't care to... well, I guess I do now. Odd, I didn't think he lived in Falkreath. I know most of the townsfolk there, and he wasn't one. His name's Arnbjorn.”

Elisif had never heard of him – it was a common enough Nordic name after all. But Brynjolf apparently had, because he'd gone very pale.

“Arnbjorn??” he breathed, horrified. “Sweet Dibella's tits, we just killed Arnbjorn? By the Eight, we need to get out of here. Did anyone see us?”

Delphine looked up sharply. “You know him?” she asked, frowning. Brynjolf nodded, eyes not leaving the dead werewolf.

“Aye – well, not personally. Not very well, and I didn't know he was a werewolf. But if my guess is right... Delphine, he's not an ordinary thief or bandit. He's married to Astrid, the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.”

The Dark Brotherhood... Elisif couldn't help but cry out. They'd already tried to kill her once, and now she'd just killed their leader's husband? Things couldn't get any worse. Slowly, she turned to look at Cicero, wondering if he'd known this, and while he looked pale and nervous, he didn't look surprised. He'd known his pursuer was Dark Brotherhood, or at least suspected it.

“They've got a contract out on you as well, haven't they?” Elisif whispered, suppressing a wave of fury at the way they could just go out there killing people, bringing innocent lives to an end without a care for the harm they caused, the damage they did. First she'd had to run for her life, and now poor Cicero, who didn't have any of the resources she did, was being hunted too. He didn't even have armour, just his tattered jester outfit and a dagger. A very nice dagger, to be sure, but just a knife when all was said and done.

Cicero nodded, still looking nervous.

“Cicero offended the wrong people,” Cicero whispered. “Now Astrid wants to kill me! Murder poor, innocent Cicero!”

Elisif felt her heart go out to the poor man. She could hardly leave him on his own, not after this.

“They want to kill me too, someone already tried in Solitude,” she told him. “But they haven't got me yet, and when I'm... when I'm ready, I'm going to come back and take them all on, and they won't hurt anyone ever again! But right now, we're going somewhere safe, somewhere they'll never think to look. Why don't you come? We can look after you too.”

“Wait a second,” and that was Delphine, interrupting as usual, and Elisif could cheerfully have throttled her. Why did Delphine always have to act like she was the one in charge? Sure enough, she was sitting across from Elisif, glaring at her again.

“Do you mean to tell me someone took a contract out on you with the Dark Brotherhood?” she demanded.

Elisif nodded. Possibly she should have mentioned this earlier, now she thought about it.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Delphine cried. “Dammit, how am I supposed to protect you if you don't tell me these things?”

“I didn't ask for your protection!” Elisif snapped. Delphine just glared back.

“Tough, I'm sworn to guide and guard you anyway,” Delphine snapped. “And you've got Ulfric Stormcloak after you and now the Dark Brotherhood trying to kill you too – I'd say you need it all right.” She got to her feet, looking around. Esbern was doing likewise, casting some sort of spell.

“No life signs anywhere near, I don't think anyone's seen us,” Esbern said quietly. “But we can't stay here.”

“You're right,” said Delphine. She indicated the body. “Brynjolf, Aela, get this out of here. We're not far from the lake, dump it in there, it'll keep the evidence hidden long enough for us to be far away. And as for you...” She was staring at Cicero, lips pursed, clearly not trusting him in the slightest. Cicero had also got up, looking thoughtfully back at Delphine, faint half-smile on his face.

“Hello,” he purred, suddenly looking a lot less innocent and harmless than he had before. “Cicero doesn't think we've been introduced. Cicero is sure he'd remember you.”

“Hey!” Brynjolf snapped from where he and Aela were manhandling the dead werewolf away. “She's spoken for!”

Delphine shot a glare at Brynjolf that could have chilled lava. “I am not -!” She stopped, possibly seeing the grin on Cicero's face and realising that could be seen as an invitation.

“I am not after companionship,” Delphine growled. “I'm more interested in exactly who you are, where you came from and why you just happened to be here, with the Dark Brotherhood on your tail.”

“Oh, Cicero is just a harmless little fool!” Cicero cooed, pirouetting over to Delphine and leaning up against her, gazing up at her, still grinning. “Just a humble merryman from Cyrodiil, making his own way in the world after his dear Mother passed on. Just poor Cicero, all alone, with no Family left to him.” His grin faded as he pouted up at Delphine. “Cicero's been very lonely, you know.”

Delphine grimaced as she stepped back, pushing him away from her. Elisif felt obliged to intervene at this point. Maybe she wasn't exactly fond of Delphine, but she didn't need Cicero harassing her.

“Cicero, stop bothering her!” Elisif sighed. “Come on, come over here, if you want a cuddle, I can manage that.”

Cicero looked up, laughed softly and shook his head, still smiling but not quite in the same way, looking surprisingly gentle.

“Maia is very pretty but not at all Cicero's type,” he said, sounding actually kind. “But Maia is Cicero's friend, yes?” He bounced back over and stood before her, arms folded as he looked her up and down. Despite being two inches shorter than her, Elisif felt a little intimidated by him. Close up, he was older than he'd seemed at first, probably close to Brynjolf's age, late thirties at least. Not unattractive... but not really Elisif's type either.

“Yes, we're friends,” she said, and while she did genuinely like him, she also felt some primitive instinct telling her she would not want to be his enemy.

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