Arthur couldn't drink his troubles away at the Bee n' Barb. The Velvet LaChance sliding down his throat only invigorated him. The success of drinks like this made his friend Talen-Jei Maven Blackbriar's new target. At that moment, Talen and Keerava, his wife to be, scurried about their tavern in the thick of the lunch rush. The smell of raw-fish and mead wafted around the room from several tables as most workers in the room came from either the docks or the Blackbriar Meadery. The mead made in Riften tasted water from the Ratway compared to the specialty drinks his friend made. You couldn't even get drunk to boot. Most workers left here refreshed. Their praise of Talen-Jei's drinks earned much to Maven's ire.

Despite her anger, she wouldn't touch them. She wouldn't touch him. Who would touch the mighty Dovahkiin? Arthur sarcastically thought to himself. News of his victory over Alduin had spread through Skyrim like dragon fire. Almost a month had passed since his return from Sovngarde. The peace and joy of those golden halls seemed as distant as the stars. The bloodletting had renewed with the death of Vittoria Vici. Shortly thereafter, a plot to assassinate the emperor surface, originating with a Stormcloak commander. The same warrior denied such a plot, but this didn't forestall the new battles which ensued. As Skyrim tore itself apart once more, many looked to him to make things right, and he would. He would fight for the Empire, and he would serve justice.

At least, that's what Arthur hoped. His travels with the companions had shown the injustice his consequences had allowed. Markarth stood beneath the iron-thumb of the Silver-blood family, and the empire had its own counterpart here in Riften. That's why he was here: to start fixing his mistake, and ensure justice. He had to—

"Hey, you're doing it again," Aela remarkd curtly, elbowing Arthur's shoulder.

"Doing what?" he replied with feigned innocence. His shield-sister knew him so well. She removed her winged helmet as she shot him a knowing look. Her gauntlet covered hand rested on his shoulder. He still couldn't believe he got her to wear plate armor, but they practically weighed nothing, the Reforged Relics of the Crusader. He wore the original Relics, but he would soon turned those over to her. The bright, gold-trimmed armor of Pelinal Whitestrake had come to mark him as the Dragonborn. He would again leave his identity behind… at least for a time.

"You've had that blasted melancholy since the civil-war started again!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. The wooden board creaked as she stood, the chair scuffing the floor beneath them, "Content yourself with the knowledge that your acting like a true warrior—you're taking action."

"It'll be one of my first adventure without you," Arthur commented glumly before forcing a smile, "but you're right. Today is a day to celebrate." He said the last sentence louder, flashing a genuine smile to Talen-Jei who smiled back.

Two hours later, Arthur, helmet donned, stood alone in the Temple of Mara. Talen-Jei would soon follow with Aela and the others. He surveyed the statue of Mara and chuckled. His mother look more beautiful than that. He touched his amulet which bore Mara's symbol while he laid his other hand on the stone shrine. He felt a familiar warmth wash over him, emanating from the altar. The small stone statue glowed faintly beneath his touch at the sound of his prayer.

"Mother Mara, preserve me and instruct me to love as you have loved me," Arthur's words came out as barely a whisper, but from his heart they bubbled over. Her love filled him, and whisper echoed in his mind.

My child… The words caressed his heart with the tenderness of a child holding its mother. As Arthur opened his eyes, hands falling to his sides, he realized that the altar continued to glow. Soft footsteps, drew the Dragonborn's attention as the priest of Mara approached. He was one of the few people who knew Arthur's real identity in the whole of Skyrim. Most Companions, except for those within the Circle knew him as the Dovahkiin and the Harbinger. The same went for Tullius, Ulfric, the Jarls and most of Skyrim. Only the Greybeards, Paarthurnax, Odahving, and a small number of others kew the man beneath the helm.

"I've haven't seen it do that before," Maramal commented with warm smile, "Then again, most of Mara's children don't bear the blood of her most beloved. Blessings of Mara upon you Arthur, welcome." The warrior embraced the priest who had just spread his hands in welcome, lifting the man. Setting the priest back down, Arthur stepped back as the priest lowered his hood.

"It's good to see you again, Maramal," Arthur greeted warmly, "Have you any news of Merlin?"

"The old dunmer," the priest corrected emphatically, "will meet you in Windhelm. Come now why don't you remove your helm."

"I require the same secrecy as our mutual friend, Nilrem," Arthur responded, "besides, the ceremony will start soon." A moment later, sunlight immediately dispelled shadows lingering in the dimly lit interior of the temple. Arthur's jumped momentarily to the stone shrine, and he smiled as it continued to glow. In the finest clothes he'd seen his scaly friend wear, Talen-Jei entered first. The bright yellow of the fabrics matched the scales going down from his neck to his chest and accented his green scales. Following close by, Keerava entered next in a green dress which complemented which matched Talen-Jei. Madesi entered in the usual clothes he wore while at the market. Aela entered last in her armor, helmet donned. Aela took a seat behind Arthur, her armor making no sound as she sat.

"Ah," Maramal began as he had a hundred times before, "the proud groom. Let us begin the ceremony." Madesi handed Keerava a small pouch, and Talen-Jei carried a small vial in his hand. The couple's feet padded across the floor as they neared the front and center of the chapel. As he passed, Talen-Jei leaned over and whispered to Arthur.

"Thank you for your help," Arthur nodded to his scaly friend's gratitude, "please meet me and Keerava after the ceremony." Arching his brow behind his helmet, Arthur nodded slowly. He hoped that there wouldn't be another attempt to pay him, though he wouldn't mind another flagon of Velvet LaChance.

"It is Mara who first gave birth to creation and promised to watch over us as her children," Arthur grinned wide behind his helmet. He didn't agree with the priest on his account of the Dawn Era, but Mara loved them both the same. Maramal continued through his marriage rhetoric Arthur leaned turned his head back to whisper something to Aela when Maramal said the following, "…eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship."

"Guess we've already done that, huh, shield-sister? Our adventures sound like marriage," Arthur gave Aela a knowing look from beneath his helm. An unseen smirk decorated his face to accompany it.

"Watch it, brother," Aela said with a quiet growl, only making eye contact with Arthur for a moment. He chuckled lightly, seeking to avoid drawing attention. Maramal then brought the ceremony to its climax.

"Do you both agree to be bound together in love now and forever?" Maramal demanded the argonian couple.

"Yes," they said as one, "both now and forever." The priest of Mara smiled. Simultaneously, The statue which glowed throughout the ceremony began to shined brighter for a moment.

"Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed. Would the newly weds present their rings?" Talen-Jei shot Arthur another look of gratitude as he produced a golden band adorned with three polished amethysts. Keerava produced a similar ring, though her's was silver. Talen-Jei moved first, his the visible scales almost shining in the torchlight.

"May you flourish," he began as his cool, scaly hand touch that of his beloved, "like a the bough of a great hist tree stretching towards the heavens." He then slipped the golden ring onto her finger. Arthur's heart grew warm, and he understood why his mother cherished such. Keerava spoke next.

"May you grow strong," she slipped the silver ring she had gotten from Madesi onto Talek-Jei's finger, "laying down roots as deep the Hist which connects us both." Holding the ringed hands together, the couple put their clasped hands underneath Maramal's outstretched palms.

"May these rings be blessed by Mara's divine grace," the priest prayed as a golden light flowed from his hands into the two rings, "May they protect each of you in your new life together." Arthur led a cheer. The couple kissed.

The wedding entourage prepared to return to the Bee n' Barb when sunlight flooded the room. The temple doors flew open, smaking the wall behind them with a thundering crack. In stepped, seven former Riften guards. They wielded an assortment of battle axes and great swords. Their fur boots thudded across the floor as they barred the only exit. Arthur wondered how they could have gotten here. Maven had experience trouble subduing the Rift. Numerous pockets of resistance still remained.

"Dragonborn!" the apparent leader shouted, "you are a traitor to this people and this city. You must pay for your crimes." Arthur couldn't decide whether or not these men were incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.

"Cease this blasphemy at once!" Maramal cried out, "Mara is a goddess of love, and you would desecrate her temple by bringing violence through those doors." In response to the priests words, the seven men and women dressed in the purple tabards drew their weapons.

"The traitor has no place here priest," the same man cried, "he betrays the people of Skyrim for imperials and lizards. We shall deal justice to them all before the day's end." Arthur felt a familiar heat begin to rise through his body at the man's words. A rage, an indignation which could burn the whole temple to ash if came out as fire. No, he would spare this place, these friends of his. He would show them his displeasure, his wrath, and they would cower before him. How dare they rise to challenge him? To threaten his friends and their happiness? They would learn.

Arthur's metal boots brushed against the carpet going down the center aisle. He knew what he wanted to say and could feel the power rising, and he spoke.

"Faas-Ru-Maar!"

His enemies cowered before him. The force of his thu'um stripped away their courage. Three of them fled immediately. Arthur strut forward his eyes narrowed into slits. Grabbing the Nord in front of him by the throat, he hefted the man into the air. "Never threaten my friends and I again. Leave this temple!" The other three fled. The only one remaining was the one Arthur continued to strangle.

"Please…" the man croaked weakly, "let me go…" Arthur began to grip the man's throat even harder before his chest felt a cold like the grave. His mother's amulet had frosted itself. He instantly let go, dropping the man. The man scrambled back as he gasped for air. Arthur turned his head away, not in disgust, but in self-loathing. His amulet warmed with his mother's comfort and pleasure. Yet, it chilled to match ice when she knew sorrow, grief, or disappointment. Mara delights in mercy, forgiveness, and love. While conceding to justice, she despised hate and needless domination. The shrine on the altar had lost its former glow.

"He's not going anywhere!" A feminine voice demanded, Arthur turned back toward the door once more to see Maven Blackbriar and a handful of imperial soldiers enter the door. The imperials put the rebel in chains, a look of fear still plastered on his face. Arthur groaned in frustration. "I apologize for not sending guards here sooner. I will deal with the captain. He should not have let this happen. It is a good thing you were here to stop them dragonborn." Arthur gave her cold look.

"You seem to be having trouble controlling your people," Aela commented, "we've heard the Rift continues to support Ulfric despite shifting battle lines." Maven glared venomously at the Huntress, but Aela returned her gaze resolutely.

"I assure you, companion, that recent disturbances will prove short lived," the edge in her tone cut the conversation short. With a curt nod, Maven ordered the soldiers to take away their prisoner. Arthur watched as Maven strutted out of the temple. His heart roiled with regret and self-loathing. The storm inside kept him from appreciating the beautiful day outside.

"Let's all head back to the Bee n' Barb to celebrate!" Talen-Jei announced, redirecting Arthur's attention.

Arthur sat again in his usual seat as those gathered with him celebrated. A surprising amount of people showed up to celebrate the couple's wedding (though, the free drinks may have had something to do with that). He gave a weak smile beneath his helmet as he heard Aela recount the pilgrimage they made to Ysgrimmor's tomb. While not a bard, the small group around her stood captivated. A few people would cast an awed glance at Arthur when she reached the end. She kept the fact that Kodlak wasn't the only werewolf from the tale, but the few Nords gathered cheered when they heard Kodlak made it to Sovrngard.

"I wanted to thank you," Talen-Jei said, appearing from behind, "for everything. The ring, your help today." Arthur waved him off. Smiling, Talen set another flagon of Velvet LaChance on the counter in front of him alongside a small purple bottle. It reminded him of the bottle Skooma dealers would sell Sleeping Tree Sap in. "Please take both, on me."

"What's in the bottle?" Arthur asked, his curiosity peaked.

"A gift few land-striders ever experience," Talen-Jei said, "I must warn you, though. You must not drink it unless you stand alone against your enemies. It will give you the strength you need to overcome them." Arthur cast a confused look at his friend. He trusted the newly wed argonian, but this didn't sit well with him.

"Very well," Arthur said, "just promise me you consider us even." Talen-Jei nodded. "Are you and Keerava ready to set out after the party?" The argonian nodded once more. "Then, I'll prepared the Relics for transport after I'm done with this drink."

Veezara stood crouched on the window sill examining the room before him. An ancient Nord great sword lay against the wall next to the bed. Upon the fur covered mattress lay a man in armor made from the same material. A black mask which glowed an eerie shade of orange sat on the nightstand next to him. The man sleeping before him was the dragonborn. He reached for his blade. Then a vision overtook him.

"Rise shadow-scale," a voice boomed in the argonian's skull, "your people require your service again." Veezara found himself in an all-too-familiar swamp with a massive tree in the center. Little orange orbs extended from parts of its branches and bark. "You must not harm the man before you."

"After all this time," Veezara asked, anger simmering beneath the calm tone, "you finally choose to speak to me?" Not since the end of his order had he received a vision from the Hist Trees. Moreover, he had not consumed any sap in more than a decade.

"The time is nigh for Argonians to help save Nirn," the Tree boomed, "the man you stand ready to kill lies at the center of the storm to come." Veezara grimaced. He had a contract to do and weeds better left in the past were interfering.

"I've heard he has a knack for being in the center of things," he remarked sardonically.

"DO NOT FOOL AROUND!" Veezara sank to his knees as his head pounded from the mental force of the Hist Tree's voice, "This world will be undone if you kill him. WE have foreseen it."

"Why should I care? Death comes to all," Veezara shrugged, "You ask me to turn away from my family, the only few who I still care about. To do that will be death, so why should I hasten to die, especially if it'll happen anyway?" Then an image of a smaller, lanky argonian resting by a snowy shore filled his eyes.

Tears filled his eyes as Veezara sank to his knees. Could another still be alive? My family… With a sigh, Veezara released his grip on the hilt of his steel sword. Slowly, he left through the same window he entered. Arthur shifted, but never stirred.