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“Seems they were after another one of your former colleagues, a man called Esbern. He's hiding out in the Ratway, just like you were, in face we even gave him your old room. He's paying a pretty penny for no one to know he's there, but I don't think he'll mind you turning up.”

Delphine grabbed the file, scanning the contents. Esbern... dragonlore expert... ex-Blade... former strategist and historian... it was him. Her old friend and mentor. Still alive after all these years.

“Esbern's alive?” she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth, and if Delphine of the Blades still remembered how to cry, she might have shed a few tears.

“Yeah,” said Brynjolf, grinning at her, “and if you'd said something before, I could have reunited you months ago.”

Apart from the fact she'd not needed Brynjolf for anything back then, but it didn't matter. Esbern was still alive. Brynjolf knew how to find him. The Thalmor thought he was someone of interest, which meant they had no time to lose.

“I have to find him,” Delphine breathed. “You'll come with me, right?”

“Of course I will,” Brynjolf said, holding out a hand to her. “Let's go find your man.”

Taking his hand, pausing only to secure the Thalmor files before they left, Delphine followed him out into the night. She had an old friend to find before the Thalmor did.

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

Elisif spurred her horse on as she galloped across the tundra for Whiterun. She'd fled the city, stopping only to grab her personal mare from the stables and ridden off into the night, not stopping until she'd left Haafingar. There'd been a rest stop at Rorikstead, where she'd seen to her horse before sleeping at the inn for a few hours. Now she was on the road again, terrified but still surviving.

She didn't know what exactly she was going to do, but she knew who her allies were. She knew Kodlak would help, that Aela was a match for any Brotherhood assassin. Even so, she knew she wouldn't be able to stay at Jorrvaskr forever. If she stayed in one place too long, the Brotherhood would find her eventually. No, she'd need help from someone who knew all about being hunted, all about being on the run. Which meant, much as she hated to admit it, she needed Delphine. Damn it. She really didn't want to be beholden to the former Blade, but thanks to the Brotherhood and whatever coward had hired them in the first place, she had no choice.

So it was she rode on under the noonday sun, not nearly rested enough, Whiterun looming in the distance. There soon, she told herself. Not much further now. Strange though, there was something odd in the distance. Not a dragon, no – but the horizon beyond Whiterun looked... dusty. A storm brewing? No, no, it all seemed a bit nearer the ground for that. She looked a bit closer, seeing not just dust but reflections off something. Something... metallic. One big thing or lots of small things? Lots of things. Heading for Whiterun from the east.

Elisif could only think of one thing that might be kicking up that much dust that she could see it from here and have lots of shiny metallic surfaces. Heart in her mouth, she spurred her horse on faster. Ulfric Stormcloak was marching on Whiterun.

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

She left her horse at the stables, throwing the reins to a surprised stable-hand before sprinting for the city gates. The guards recognised Maia the Dragonborn mercenary and if a few of the brighter ones guessed she wasn't really called Maia, they kept it to themselves. Regardless, they let her in and nodded respectfully as she ran for Dragonsreach.

“Balgruuf!” she cried, having been pointed to the war room at the back of the palace. “Balgruuf, you have to get ready, Ulfric's...”

“Going to attack, I know,” Balgruuf said calmly. He wasn't the only one – aside from Proventus and Irileth, there were Legionnaires everywhere, in fact now Elisif stopped to look, there were troops waiting around and couriers carrying orders. And standing around the strategy table, eyes on a plan of Whiterun and its surroundings, was Legate Rikke. Elisif stopped short, not sure whether to approach further or flee now while she still could. Unfortunately for her, Rikke had heard her voice and looked up... and smiled.

“Jarl Elisif. Good to see you, I was worried you'd vanished for good. Glad to see you're in one piece although I'd not expected you here. Is something wrong in Solitude – actually, never mind, we all have bigger problems right now. Elisif, I can't decide if this is good timing on your part or terrible timing, but the Stormcloaks are going to be here within hours. Whiterun's going to be a city under siege.”

“I know, I saw the army from a distance, I came to tell the Jarl...” Elisif's voice trailed off as she realised that not only had Balgruuf known, he'd probably even expected it, and Rikke's presence could only mean... “Balgruuf, what have you done??”

“Taken a side,” said Balgruuf, straightening up and starting to smile. “Come now, Elisif, don't look so shocked. True Nords don't stand idle when their home's threatened, and with half the city's youngsters flocking to the Empire's banner, all claiming they need to avenge Ulfric's slight to their beautiful Dragonborn Queen, I decided I needed to take a stand. So I've invited Legate Rikke and her Legion friends to help defend the city.”

“After provoking Ulfric in the first place by sending him your axe,” Rikke said tersely. “Honestly, Balgruuf, you could have consulted me first.”

Elisif bit her lip, feeling tears in her eyes. Sending another warrior your axe – having it sent peacefully instead of burying it in their chest was a sign you wanted to negotiate. If the recipient kept it, it meant peace and a chance to discuss matters like civilised folk when its owner came to collect it, and once the negotiations had taken place, it would be ritually handed back with avowals of peaceful intent. But the other side of that message also meant the sender wanted an answer – the recipient had to answer in one way or another. It was a challenge as much as an invitation to speak. Sending the axe back without there having been avowals of peace or a discussion – that meant there would be none. That the axe was being returned because its owner would need it in the forthcoming fight. And Balgruuf had sent the challenge because of her.

“Balgruuf, you stupid, stupid man,” Elisif whispered, blinking back the tears. “You've risked your entire city on this.”

“Aye,” said Balgruuf gruffly. “But we always knew it would come to this. Ulfric knew and I knew I'd never take his side. I just didn't want the war to come here either. But we're Nords, Elisif. When war is inevitable, we don't run just because it's dangerous. We'll win today or die, but at least we'll die with honour.”

“You're not going to die!” was all Elisif could say before her self-control snapped and she ran up and hugged him. Balgruuf looked a bit awkward over having a pretty twenty-three year old flinging herself at him but he coped and hugged her back after a minute, before letting her go.

“I don't intend to lose either,” said Balgruuf, returning his attention to the map of the city defences. “Now, you were saying, Legate? And bear in mind we just had the Dragonborn join us. Be foolish not to have her involved in some way, seeing as she's here.”

What??? Elisif hadn't signed up for... well, for any of this if she was honest. But joining a full-on battle?!

“Oh gods,” she gasped. “You mean... fighting?”

Elisif wasn't sure whether to be insulted or relieved that Rikke's first reaction was to stifle a laugh.

“No, no, well, hopefully not anyway. But I'll be giving a rallying speech to the troops before battle, it would help to have you there.”

Elisif relaxed a little. Public speaking was something she found nervewracking, but it was better than actually being on the frontlines. And speaking of doing the actual fighting...

“What about the Companions, are they helping?” she asked. Balgruuf and Rikke both went quiet, exchanging nervous looks. It was Balgruuf who finally answered.

“The Companions are above politics, Elisif,” he said gently. “Kodlak has requested all his people stay out of the war, and that includes this battle. I'm sorry Elisif, but we can expect no help from Jorrvaskr. They are not aiding the Stormcloaks either, we should be thankful for that.”

Thankful? But this was Whiterun, their own city, their home! “How can they just sit back and let Ulfric attack?” Elisif whispered. “How is that honourable?”

Neither Balgruuf nor Rikke answered and Elisif's heart sank as she realised that perhaps Jorrvaskr was staying out of it because most of Jorrvaskr agreed with Ulfric.

“I have to speak to Kodlak,” she gasped, running for the stairs. Balgruuf watched her go, shaking his head.

“It's a hopeless task,” he sighed. “I must have had this argument with Kodlak every week since war broke out. He's insistent that the war will bring honour to no one and that his people are staying out of it. I spoke to him only this morning, he's still not changing his mind. Seems to think this is my fault somehow.”

Rikke was still looking at the stairway Elisif had fled down, pondering.

“Don't count them out just yet,” she said thoughtfully. “Our young Dragonborn might just be able to talk him round.”

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

Jorrvaskr was quiet when Elisif ran in. No sign of the twins, but Athis was there, trying a few moves with a sword. Njada was on the other side of Jorrvaskr, shining up a shield and pointedly ignoring the Dunmer. Torvar was drinking quietly in the middle, glancing uncomfortably between them. Elisif had already seen Vignar and Brill leaving, heading for the Grey-Mane house with Eorlund, presumably to all wait out the battle there together. Stormcloaks the lot of them, and the sad thing was, Elisif might once have gone along with the cause herself – if Ulfric hadn't killed her Torygg.

She shoved away the thought of Torygg lying dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood and went in search of Kodlak. He had to be here somewhere.

She found Aela downstairs, pacing along the central corridor, a seething bundle of nervous energy.

“Aela,” Elisif gasped. “Aela, the Stormcloaks, they're...”

“Going to attack, I know,” said Aela grimly. “Whole city knows it, everyone's either taking shelter in their homes or getting ready to join the defence, and what are the best warriors in Skyrim doing? Nothing!” Aela kicked fiercely at a nearby tankard, sending it flying into the wall and bouncing off. Elisif flinched back, never having been at ease with people being angry around her. Aela saw it and sighed, relenting a little.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap, it's just very frustrating,” Aela sighed. “Stormcloak sons of bitches right on our doorstep and here we are confined to Jorrvaskr. We should be out there, Elisif! Taking the fight to them! Sons of Skyrim? If my son murdered a lawful ruler, I'd be disowning him on the spot!”

Elisif closed her eyes, remembering Torygg lying on the floor in a pool of blood, going cold as she held him, eyes that had once gazed lovingly at her empty and unmoving forever.

“I know,” Elisif whispered, feeling tears prickling at her eyes. Silence, and then Aela had an arm round her, holding her and looking a little regretful.

“Of course you do, sister,” Aela said quietly. “I guess that's why you're here.”

“I wanted to talk to Kodlak,” Elisif whispered. “Talk him out of it. But if you've tried and Balgruuf tried...”

“You haven't yet.” Aela patted Elisif on the shoulder, suddenly looking a bit more optimistic. “Come on, he's down the end here. Maybe you'll succeed where the rest of us failed.”

Kodlak was sitting outside his room, a simple meal of bread, cheese and mead in front of him, but he'd barely touched it from the look of it. Like everyone in Jorrvaskr, he was clearly brooding. He looked up as they approached, not looking surprised to see Elisif there.

“I thought you might be here, lass,” he said, sounding surprisingly calm considering there was an invading army on the way.

“I'm not meant to be,” Elisif admitted. “But I had to leave Solitude in a hurry and came here... and now I find out Ulfric's on his way? Or his army anyway.”

“I know,” said Kodlak, still not looking at her. “So, Elisif, what can I do for you? Did Balgruuf send you? I already told him we don't get involved in politics.”

“This isn't about politics!” Elisif cried, willing him to listen, to understand. Maybe Jorrvaskr was a little depleted but even so, Aela alone was a tough proposition for anyone. “Kodlak, the Stormcloaks are coming here! Today! They'll be here by tonight and we'll be under siege!”

“Yes, and the Jarl's guards are ready,” said Kodlak. “In fact, some would say the Jarl's particular methods of declaring his allegiances brought this on us all the sooner.”

“You don't know Ulfric if you don't think this wouldn't have happened eventually,” Elisif said grimly. “Balgruuf was never going to side with him.”

“I know,” Kodlak sighed. “I respect him for taking a stand, and it's his right to bring the Legion here, but I'm not getting involved. He's not using Jorrvaskr to bolster his cause.”

Elisif felt her heart sink as she realised she'd been right. Jorrvaskr had more than its fair share of Stormcloak sympathisers and she had a horrible feeling Kodlak was one.

“You support Ulfric,” she whispered. Kodlak did look up at that, bristling.

“I did not say that!” he snapped. “Lass, he's a deeply flawed man and I don't think he'd make a good king – you can't take power by murdering the previous incumbent, such is not our way. But I'm no longer sure the Empire has Skyrim's best interests at heart either.”

Nor was Elisif if she was entirely honest, but she was also smart enough to know Skyrim and the Empire needed each other, now more than ever. And right here, right now in Whiterun, the city needed the Legion at its back or it would fall.

“This isn't about the Empire, Kodlak,” Elisif said softly. “It's not about Talos or who should be king or anything like that. It's about protecting your city. When they lay siege to this place, if they get past the defences, this entire city will be in danger. All the innocent civilians who don't care about the war or politics, you think that will matter if the Stormcloaks get inside? You know what Ulfric's like, anyone who isn't for him is against him. His troops could put half this city to the sword. Anyone who was an outspoken Imperial supporter, anyone who isn't a Nord, anyone who just got in the way. Kodlak, please. You don't have to join my side, you don't have to declare me the rightful High Queen. Just help protect Whiterun. Please.”

Kodlak was staring at her, surprised. Then he got to his feet, beckoning for her to follow.

“You might just be the first person to ask me for help in this on behalf of the people of Whiterun instead of in the Empire's name or in order to stop Ulfric,” said Kodlak, looking at her in approval. “And you're certainly the first to say please. Come on. I need to address the others.”

Torvar, Athis and Njada were still upstairs, Athis and Njada pointedly ignoring each other still. Elisif stayed close to Aela, both watching as Kodlak strode to the centre of the room, drawing everyone's attention without even trying.

“Brothers, sisters,” Kodlak said, surveying what remained of the Companions, troubled look in his eyes. “As you no doubt are aware, the war's finally come here. Ulfric Stormcloak's on his way and he'll be laying siege to this city within hours.”

Silence. No one with ears could fail to have heard about it, and if Elisif listened closely, she could hear it in the distance now, the throbbing thud of hoofbeats.

“As you know, I have said on many occasions that when Nord fights Nord like this, no one wins and no one emerges with any honour,” Kodlak continued. “I still stand by that. No one wins in this war, and I will not have Shield-Brothers and Sisters joining opposite sides and meeting on the battlefield.” He paused and then spoke again. “However.”

Elisif held her breath. Had he changed his mind?

“However what?” Athis asked warily. All three were looking curious and next to Elisif, Aela seemed hopeful – almost gleeful.

“The war's coming here, and should Whiterun's walls fall, I don't think Ulfric's troops will care who they kill,” said Kodlak softly. “We fight so that others do not have to, that is our watchword. We risk our lives to protect the innocent, and I will not have it said that when war came to Whiterun, Jorrvaskr stood idle and that the Companions hid away. So while I still say you should not join up with either side... if your honour demands that you go join the defence of this city then go with my blessing. I will not stop you.”

Athis had sat bolt upright, grin spreading across his face.

“Let me get my good armour,” he laughed, before rushing off to get his things. Torvar had also sat up, blinking blearily at Kodlak.

“So what, we can join the war now?” he asked, confused.

“Not exactly,” said Kodlak, smiling a little. “But the war's come to us. For this battle only, if you want to go and help the Whiterun guards, I won't stop you.”

“Well all right then!” Torvar laughed. “Hey Athis, wait for me!” He ran off after Athis to track down all his gear. Meanwhile Njada had got to her feet, face like thunder.

“What, so we can join the Legion for a bit if honour demands it, but not Ulfric's side? What of my honour, Kodlak??”

“Njada,” Kodlak sighed. “This isn't about politics, it's about protecting our city. You don't have to go.”

“Oh, I know what it's about all right,” Njada snapped bitterly. She glared at Elisif, not even bothering to hide her disdain. “She has you wrapped around her little finger, Harbinger.” Getting up, she stormed off to the courtyard, no doubt to carve up some helpless training dummies.

Kodlak sighed, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to Elisif, looking resigned.

“It's the best I can offer, lass,” he said apologetically. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, it's more than I ever hoped for,” Elisif gasped, not sure what to say. The Companions were going to help! It wasn't even the extra sword-arms – three warriors wouldn't turn the tide of battle alone. But the effect it would have on those who fought alongside them, of Ysgramor's heirs joining the fight... It would help. It might just be the thing to give them the edge. “I just hope it hasn't caused trouble for you.” She'd not forget Njada's angry face in a hurry. Kodlak just sighed, his heart heavy.

“From the day word came in of the High King's death and I had to break up a particularly violent fist-fight involving her, Athis and Ria, I knew it would come to this,” Kodlak sighed. “She lost her parents in the Great War and was raised by a Talos-worshipping aunt and uncle who were later taken prisoner by the Thalmor. She's hated the Empire for letting it happen ever since. Frankly, I'm surprised she never ran off to join Ulfric weeks or months before, but she had sufficient respect for me to stay quiet and stay here.”

“Not any more,” said Elisif softly. She'd seen the hatred in Njada's eyes and it had chilled her. There could be trouble ahead and she was no longer sure Jorrvaskr was the safe place it had once been. But there was little she could do about it now.

“You leave Njada to me, lass,” said Kodlak gently. “You have bigger problems to worry about, such as the battle to come. You should get back to Dragonsreach, tell them Jorrvaskr will answer. But you also be sure to tell Balgruuf I'm not doing it for him either. I'm doing this for the innocent townsfolk of Whiterun.”

“I know. I'll tell him. Thank you,” Elisif whispered. She stopped to give Kodlak a hug then left the hall, arranging to meet with Aela up at Dragonsreach once she was ready. They had a battle to prepare for.

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

The Stormcloaks had arrived in the late afternoon and the city had locked its gates, terrified residents from the outlying farms fleeing inside the gates or off to Rorikstead and Riverwood. The bombardment had started not long after, catapults lobbing fire into the city all night. Hardly anyone had slept, residents fleeing their homes to take refuge in Dragonsreach or alternately joining the volunteer fire-fighting crews that had formed.

Morning came and Elisif could weep to see the smoking city. The walls were standing – just. But the sentries had sent word of troops massing outside.

The roar that greeted this could have shaken the very heavens and Elisif blinked, suddenly coming back to herself as she realised everyone was cheering and Rikke was patting her on the back.

“Well done!” Rikke laughed. “See, that was exactly what I was after! You're a natural.”

“Oh. Oh, that's... good?” Elisif said faintly. Truth be told, she wasn't sure where all that had come from. But it had felt right to say it, and she'd felt the dragon within howling approval all the way. Looking at the troops below, it seemed to have done its job. Time now to retreat to Dragonsreach and wait.

“Legate!” one of the look-outs called. “They're coming!”

“Barricades! Now!” Rikke shouted, running towards the gates as everyone made for their own positions. Heart in her mouth, Elisif ran to the top of the outer gate to get a better look, feeling her blood go cold as Stormcloaks poured up the road towards the city, all screaming for blood.

She should be terrified – she was terrified. But her words of earlier hadn't left her. There was a city full of innocents at her back, and she would protect them or die trying. And if she died, Sovngarde awaited and she'd have Torygg back.

The dragon within definitely seemed to approve of that. Elisif took a deep breath as the Stormcloak horde drew nearer. They would not take this strunmah.

“FUS RO DAH!”

The Thu'um lashed out, sending the first wave of soldiers reeling, and the Legion troops howled in awe, pressing home the sudden advantage with a volley of arrows, and a few brave souls racing out to get some easy kills in. Visions of Torygg flashed in her mind again and Elisif staggered back, feeling nauseous. May the gods forgive her for what she did this day. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself.

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

Screaming, blood, the clashing of swords and the smell of smoke. Elisif must have spent more time dodging and running rather than fighting, but she wasn't going to flee. They'd got past the barricades, even got the drawbridge down, if she hammered on the gate to be let in now, they'd surely follow. She wasn't going to be the one responsible for letting the Stormcloaks in to Whiterun, she just wasn't.

And so she dodged and weaved and Shouted and even got a few blows in herself when some of them got close. Not that they did. Elisif was staying close to Legate Rikke and that nice young Captain Hadvar, and the Companions never seemed to be far away either. Aela's arrows zinged through the air to take down enemies from afar while Athis and Torvar were carving into the oncoming soldiers. Really, Elisif had hardly had to do much herself. This was probably for the best.

And so the battle wore on, the sun moving across the sky, and Elisif's strength was fading, her stamina potions used up, her arms feeling like they were on fire.

“Come on,” she heard Aela whisper. “Courage, sister, we can do this.”

No she couldn't, she really couldn't, she just wanted to sleep, run away, hide. But the Stormcloaks were still coming, and then she looked up to see one of the generals leaping off the wall.

“There she is!” the bear-skin clad warrior cried, greatsword raised. “The pretender queen herself! Surrender now and Ulfric will be merciful.”

Merciful?? Ulfric would never show her mercy. She'd got too renowned in her own right for that. At best, he'd make her consort so at least he could share the glory. At worst... he'd see his rival killed.

“Never!” she cried, raising Dawnbreaker and her ebony war axe with the last of her strength. “You want this city, you come through me!”

Brave words indeed, her inner dragon roared in approval – but it was only an inner dragon and she didn't actually have wings or claws or anything. The Stormcloak general just growled and ran straight for her. Elisif gave a little scream and swung Dawnbreaker.

It didn't connect properly but Torvar's blade did, the big Nord springing from out of nowhere and his greatsword neatly upending the Stormcloak. Before he could get up, Athis was there, shoving his sword into the man's back, finishing him off.

“Thank you,” Elisif gasped, about ready to collapse.

“No problem,” Athis said, wiping his brow. “You just concentrate on not dying, we'll take care of the rest.” Together, both men turned and ran back into the battle, but there didn't seem to be as much going on. The death of the general seemed to have broken Stormcloak morale and there was a warhorn sounding in the distance. Legionnaires and guards were all running to the outer gates and there weren't any living Stormcloaks around.

“What's going on?” Elisif whispered, looking around. Not far away, Aela was lowering her bow, face aglow.

“That's a retreat call,” she laughed. “They're retreating. We won, Elisif, we won!”

“We – we did?” Elisif gasped. She scrambled up to the top of the walls, looking out on the Stormcloak camp, watching the few remaining Stormcloaks grabbing their things and fleeing, a few braver ones fighting a desperate rearguard action as the Whiterun defenders tore into the place.

“We did it,” Elisif whispered. “We won! Aela, we won!” She cried out that last and Aela laughed as she took Elisif in her arms, swinging her round and then hugging her tight.

“We won, little sister,” Aela murmured, ruffling Elisif's hair and leading her away to a quiet corner where she could sit down and start healing a few wounds she'd picked up. Elisif surveyed all the bodies lying around, brave men and women from both sides who would never fight again. Hard to feel too jubilant in the face of such death, and Whiterun still had smoke pouring from it. It would take a long time to rebuild. But Ulfric had tried and Ulfric had failed, and Elisif had survived. For now, it was enough.

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

Despite the destruction and the dead to bury, Whiterun still had time to celebrate. Jarl Balgruuf gave a speech to the assembled troops and citizens, including three Companions with their arms draped around each other who'd already got started on the mead.

Elisif was up alongside him, smiling faintly and hoping the feeling of nausea would go away soon and that she wouldn't actually collapse in front of everyone. She let Balgruuf do the talking – she'd already given a speech beforehand after all.

“For the Empire!” she cried as he finished, the gathered audience taking up the refrain and cheering. Finally they were done. Elisif staggered down from the walls, Balgruuf not far behind her, looking delighted.

“We did it!” he laughed, patting her on the back. “We sent them packing, eh Elisif?”

“We?” Elisif queried, sure she'd have nightmares about this for weeks. “You were in your palace! I was out there fighting!”

Balgruuf's face darkened at that. “Yes. Yes you were. Damn it, Elisif, what were you thinking? You were supposed to just give a rallying speech to the troops and get back inside! You were never supposed to be in danger! I'd even organised an escape route out of Whiterun with Kodlak for you in case the city fell!”

“Well, the Stormcloaks attacked before I could get inside!” Elisif snapped. “What was I supposed to do, Balgruuf, run away? Some Nord queen I'd be if a battle started and I ran off to let others die for me!”

“You're not a warrior, Elisif!” Balgruuf cried, and that rankled. Dawnbreaker was glowing at her side, memories of all the people she'd fought, dragons she'd killed, Draugr laid to rest, necromancers put down, all passing before her eyes, and she realised that an awful lot of people had died at her hands just lately. Not a warrior??

“I am a Dragonborn, Balgruuf!” Elisif growled, glaring at him. “These past few weeks, I've been killing people left, right and centre! Maybe I'm not a seasoned veteran, but I'm not unblooded any more either!”

Balgruuf was staring at her, and Elisif realised she'd raised her voice sufficiently that so were a number of other people. Balgruuf shook himself down and recollected himself.

“No, no, you're not, my apologies. You're right, it's not my place to tell you how to lead. All the same... I worry. You know, if you die, there's no one else to be queen, you know. You don't have any heirs.”

No, she didn't and Balgruuf couldn't even begin to know how much that in particular gnawed at her heart. Not because of her duty to Skyrim... but because of a private grief that lay at Ulfric's door as much as the more public one that had started the war. Because of the longed-for baby that she'd miscarried in the days after Torygg died. No one had known, she'd only told Torygg the morning he'd died. He'd been ecstatic, actually cried as he'd held her and kissed her. They'd decided to wait to make the announcement, perhaps see a priest and make sure she really was pregnant first, but Elisif was sure she had been. Then Ulfric had come and... well, she wasn't pregnant any more. She'd been so happy and by the time night had fallen she'd lost everything she cared about.

“We are not having this conversation,” she gasped, tears in her eyes as she walked away. Balgruuf cursed quietly before hurrying after her.

“Elisif, wait, I'm sorry!” Balgruuf gasped. “I didn't mean... I didn't mean to remind you of Torygg!”

“Too late,” Elisif whispered, feeling tears rolling down her face, memories of strong arms round her, kisses in the sunshine, holding hands while he held court, taking tours of Solitude and meeting the people of Haafingar, being told how lovely they looked together and that they'd be sure to have some beautiful children. All gone, all torn apart in a day of blood.

Mara, but she needed to be alone before she burst into tears. Fortunately Irileth was there hauling Balgruuf back and then Aela, thank the gods, Aela was there, taking her in her arms and holding her, letting Elisif cry on her shoulder, rubbing her back and leading her away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No problem, little sister,” came the reply. “Come on, let's get you back to Jorrvaskr. Kodlak will be relieved you're not dead.”

Some part of Elisif was sad she wasn't. Some part of her would have welcomed Sovngarde. But it wasn't to be, not yet. Still, Ulfric wasn't dead yet. She'd stay alive long enough to see Torygg avenged. But after that... well, let Ulfric's guards take her after that. She'd meet death with open arms.

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

Torvar and Athis were still out in Whiterun celebrating and Njada was nowhere to be seen when they got back to Jorrvaskr. The Grey-Manes were clearly all still back at their house, which just left Tilma and Kodlak in the main room.

Tilma patted Elisif's hand when she saw her, smiled gently and settled her at the table next to Kodlak and poured her a mead, before leaving to get a bed put together for her. Elisif nodded gratefully, sipping her mead and wishing all of it would just go away, the blood, the death, the memories, everything.

“Well, looks like you made it, lass,” said Kodlak, patting her on the shoulder. “What of Torvar and Athis, are they...?”

“Still alive, Harbinger,” said Aela, sitting on Elisif's other side. “Out there helping to celebrate, I doubt we'll see either until morning. But it's done and we're alive and Balgruuf's still Jarl.”

Faint smile from Kodlak. “Good,” he said and he sounded like he actually meant it. “Vignar won't be pleased, he's Ulfric's through and through, but Balgruuf's a good man and a good Jarl. He has the city's interests at heart. While you won't find me celebrating an Imperial victory, I'm not displeased either. And as for you, girl, I'm very glad you're not dead. What's all this I hear about you being in the fighting?”

So then Elisif had to tell the story, and while she didn't feel she'd done anything so terribly heroic or been anything other than an average fighter at best, Kodlak actually seemed proud.

“But I hardly did anything,” Elisif protested. Kodlak just smiled.

“Maybe you weren't in the worst of it, but the fact remains you were there and you didn't die. Well done, lass. Lass? Are you all right?”

Elisif shook her head, tears rolling down her face. “No!” she cried. “No, I'm not all right, I ran away from Solitude because the Dark Brotherhood were trying to kill me, and then I get here where I was hoping I'd be safe for a bit and then I find the Stormcloaks are here and there's a battle?? Of course I'm not all right!”

“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. :)

I have the oddest feeling that there's something missing between the end of 9.8 and the start of 9.9. Right now it goes straight from Morning came and Elisif could weep to see the smoking city. The walls were standing – just. But the sentries had sent word of troops massing outside.

to

The roar that greeted this could have shaken the very heavens and Elisif blinked, suddenly coming back to herself as she realised everyone was cheering and Rikke was patting her on the back.

It seems like Elisif should have given a speech, but it doesn't seem to be in the story?

Yes, you're right, I messed up and accidentally missed part of it. It is now posted as part 9.8a, in response to 9.8. Sorry!

“Ulfric's not got the men or the supplies for a drawn-out siege,” Rikke said as she led Elisif out to the front gate for a pre-battle speech. “Winter's fast approaching, he won't be able to live off the land for long. It's difficult to get supplies out here too – the roads between here and Eastmarch aren't good. He'll be relying on taking the city quickly. So we're going to make sure that doesn't happen. Also we have a few reinforcements on the way. If we can hold out until they get here, we can win this. But we need to hold. We need to keep people's morale up. That's where you come in.”

“I hope you're not expecting miracles,” Elisif sighed. “I'm just me. I'm not a mighty warrior like Ulfric is.”

“You can Shout,” said Rikke, sounding far more confident than she had any right to.

“I know precisely four, only one of which might be any possible use to you in this conflict!” Elisif protested. “I can't call an army of dragons out of the sky to deal with the Stormcloaks!”

“I don't expect you to,” Rikke replied. “With any luck, we won't need it.”

The combined Legion and city guard force was amassing outside the gates, manning the outer walls and barricades. The Stormcloaks hadn't attacked yet, but it was clear they were gathering.

“All right, soldiers!” Rikke shouted, parading in front of her troops like the seasoned commander she was. “This is it! This is an important day for the Empire and for the Legion. And for all of Skyrim. This is the day we send a message to Ulfric Stormcloak and the rebel Jarls who support him. But make no mistake. What we do here today, we do for Skyrim and her people. By cutting out the disease of this rebellion, we will make this country whole again! We will heal our divided land and reunite our people under the true High Queen, Elisif Dragonborn!”

Massed cheering and it was all Elisif could do to force a smile and wave back to the gathered soldiers. Then Rikke was nudging her in the side.

“Say something,” she murmured. Say something? Elisif truly had no idea what to say, she wasn't a gifted speech-giver or anything. Then her eyes fell on a red-haired figure elbowing her way to the front, and a Dunmer and Nord behind her. The Companions, coming to support her. Elisif took one look at Aela and felt her nerves easing. She wasn't without friends here. She'd talked Kodlak into sending help, and it was then that Elisif knew what to say.

“Thank you, Legate,” she began, feeling a little nervous but doing it anyway. “We're here today to help reunite and heal Skyrim, yes, and to avenge my husband too. We're going to teach Ulfric that you don't get to be High King just by murdering your predecessor!”

That got a roar of approval and Elisif couldn't help but smile at that. Ulfric was a man you either loved or hated, and there weren't many Ulfric lovers in this crowd.

“But it's not just about the war,” she continued. “It's not just for the Empire! It's not just about bringing peace and healing our country, or about revenge. Here, now, on this day, it's about the city of Whiterun, a city full of innocent men, women and children, many of whom don't care about the war or the politics or who's in charge of Skyrim. It's about keeping that city, all those people, safe from Ulfric's forces. It's about stopping the Stormcloaks from getting in and killing them all, because they won't care who backs the Empire and who doesn't! Ulfric says that anyone who's not for him is against him, which means once his troops get inside, it'll be a bloodbath! That's why we're doing this today, that's why we're fighting. We're fighting so the innocent people of Whiterun can get on with their lives in peace! We're fighting so that others don't have to! We're doing this to defend ourselves and our city and we are going to win this day! Because that lot are fighting to further Ulfric's ambitions while we're fighting to bring the war he started to an end! That is why we are here and that is why we will fight to keep this city safe or die trying! When this day is done, we will have victory or we will be with our ancestors in Sovngarde, nothing else! Because we are true Nords and we will NEVER back down!”

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.

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...)

You've actually managed to do something which I didn't believe possible, which is to make me feel empathy towards Delphine!

She's one of the most hated characters in Skyrim, yet it's rather hard to know why. Nazeem, yes, he's rude, patronising AND a liar - when is he ever in Dragonsreach? Ulfric, yes, he's waging war on his own countrymen and unintentionally helping the Thalmor. Tullius, yes, he's bland and blatantly admits he doesn't understand Nord culture. Ancano and Elenwen, yes, vile evil Thalmor torturers. But what's wrong with Delphine?

Well, simply that she's a bitch who bosses you around, despite the fact that the Blades are supposed to help the Dragonborn - and that she asks you to kill Paarthurnax. Those are really her only "crimes" - and yet most players hate her as much as genuinely annoying or evil characters.

Your Delphine is different. She's obviously insecure and out of her depth, being the Grandmaster by default since she doesn't know of any other living Blades. You make it clear that she might have been a very competent underling, even a competent Captain, just not the Grandmaster. You've also added in a lot of detail that makes me empathise with her - over a decade on the run, hiding in the Thieves Guild, barely able to trust anyone even there. She must have been relieved when it finally seemed safe enough for her to buy the pub in Riverwood and become a simple village innkeeper. After several years of safety, she'd probably started to relax.

Then her entire life and worldview gets shaken up again. The dragons are back. There must be a Dragonborn to go with them. Who is it? Is it someone she can trust? The Thalmor might start actively hunting for her again. And all of those fears of hers boil up to the surface. You make it clear how stressed and terrified she is. She doesn't even want to accept Brynjolf's help since she's not sure if she can trust him. It's no wonder that she orders the Dragonborn around (or would, if it wasn't Elisif) because she needs to assert her authority to stop her life collapsing.

I'm still not sure that I can find empathy for the game's version of Delphine. Your story is proof that she could have been written as a much more sympathetic character with only a few small changes. But I definitely like your version, and that surprises me. I'd thought she was unredeemable.

I was actually a little worried writing her with Brynjolf, I was a bit worried Brynjolf's fangirls would lynch me. ;) Fortunately, so far it hasn't happened.

I'm not sure why she gets the hate she does - I wouldn't expect her to be universally liked, but she's not that bad. There are occasional flashes of concern from her towards the player character, and all told, her attitude's not much different from Vilkas during the Companion's questline and certainly streets ahead of Ancano or Mercer, and yet those two have fans. It's a mystery. She's not even the only one to ask you to kill someone innocent with whom you may have prior history - the entire Dark Brotherhood questline and side contracts, half the Daedric quests, they all have you doing similar things, Boethiah's makes you kill a follower. It is odd. I guess it doesn't help in that she's particularly bad at opening up, so it's difficult to warm to her in game. But I've written her before, so I'm used to working out what makes her tick. It does help humanise her. And with Brynjolf, she'd like to trust him completely, but can't quite do it yet - but the big fear isn't what he might do to her, but what might end up happening to him. She doesn't want to lead the Thalmor right to him. Fortunately, once warned of the danger, Bryn's very good at staying one step ahead of trouble.

Ultimately the main thing with her is that she never got to lead the life she wanted - she loved being a Blades field agent, would have liked to stay as one, or running a small to midsized cell directing all the ops. Now she's stuck in charge of it all because she's all that's left and while she'll rise to the challenge, part of her won't ever really be happy doing it. I noticed in game she referred to herself as Acting Grand Master when swearing in Blades, so she'd clearly stand down if anyone with any more seniority turned up. Alas, it's not terribly likely after thirty years.

Thank you for the comment, it made my day! Always good to know readers get what I was aiming for.

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