The door to the inn closed, the latch clicking loudly into place. For a moment, there was silence and then Hulda said, "She's gone."

A collective sigh ran through the crowd gathered at the Bannered Mare. Sinmir grunted. Seated at his regular spot on the bench before the tavern's fire, he took another gulp of his mead, effectively cutting off a scathing response. Carlotta, seated next to him with her back to the kitchen, reached out and brushed her daughter Mila's hair, calming the girl. Uthgerd leaned back in her chair in the corner, her eyes fixated on the inn's front door. Mikael strummed his lute aimlessly, not even bothering to play a tune. Hulda grabbed a cloth and gently wiped the top of her spotless bar, trying hard to keep her thoughts to herself. Saadia swept the floor behind the bar, her eyes glazed over as her thoughts raced to events long passed.

"But why did she leave, mum?" Mila asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no my darling daughter," Carlotta hushed the child. "You were amazing, as always. She simply has things to do."

Sinmir grunted angrily.

"What?" Carlotta turned to him. "What is your problem?"

"Her!" Sinmir said, his word only slightly slurred by the gallons of mead he had drunk.

Carlotta turned back to the fire, trying to choose her words carefully. "What has she done now, Sinmir? Has she decided not to help you overthrow Caius?"

Mead burst from Sinmir in an explosion of fury, sizzling as it hit the tavern's massive fire. "By the gods I should…" he paused as he caught a glimpse of Mila's frighten stare. Even in his drunken state he registered he was terrifying the child. "Never mind," he grumbled angrily.

"He has a right to be angry," Mikael said, annoyed. "What has she done lately?"

"What is 'dat supposed to mean, bard?" Hulda stopped wiping the bar and glared at the man.

Mikael shrugged. "I'm just saying… what has she done lately?"

"What? Saving White'drun wasn't enough? Using her Dragonborn abilities to save Skyrim wasn't enough? What do you want from 'da woman?" Hulda asked.

Uthgerd slammed her tankard onto the table and grumbled. "How long do we let her 'high and mightiness, the Dragonborn' hold that over us? How long do we sit at her feet gazing at her in adoration simply because she was born with a skill?"

"That's not fair!" Mila cried. "She's really nice!"

Sinmir snorted and turning toward the girl he asked snidely, "You are a child, what do you know?"

Carlotta glared at the warrior. "More than you, it seems. She knows how not to be rude. Now you apologize to my daughter before I make you very, very sorry."

Sinmir blushed. Carlotta was quite scary when she was angry. "Sorry Mila."

Mila nodded somberly, never taking her eyes from her mother.

Carlotta smiled at her daughter. "So why do you think she is nice?"

"Well," Mila glanced around the room, taking in the fact that every adult in the tavern was watching her. "I… uh…"

"Go ahead, sweetie."

Taking a deep breath she forced herself to be brave. "Because she plays tag with me… sometimes." She sighed and stared at the fire, wishing Lars… or even Braith were here. Talking to adults was really stressful.

There was a slight murmur of laughter after she spoke. It wasn't much, but it seemed to break the tension.

"I… understand what you mean though, Sinmir," Carlotta said, sighing. "I appreciate everything she has done, everything she risked, but…"

"But what is she doing for us now?" Mikael strummed his lute, a forlorn chord that echoed in the quiet room.

"She stops by for a drink now and 'den," Hulda offered. They all nodded. "Asks me if 'dere is work, or if I've heard any rumors."

"She brings in a lot of gold. From her travels. Barters with Arcadia and Belethor mostly," Carlotta added.

"Yeah!" Mikael shouted angrily. "Why doesn't she shop at your stall, eh? Where does she get all her food anyways? What… is she too good for your vegetables?"

Carlotta laughed. "Lydia does most of her shopping. She runs the house while the Dragonborn is away."

"That's not the point! She's lining that greasy Belethor's pockets and Arcadia's but what about you? Or Anoriath or Fralia? What about them?"

"Well… I… it would be nice, I suppose. If she purchased vegetables regularly from my stall."

"Exactly," Mikael played an angry chord, loving how the music accentuated his words. "That's what I mean. She plays favorites and she's stingy."

"She's not stingy!" Mila glared at the bard.

"Oh yeah? Well I can't even remember the last time she paid for a tune," Mikael growled.

"'dats because you are horrible bard, not because she is cheap," Hulda chuckled.

Mikael glared at her.

"But what about me?" Sinmir growled, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I do everything I can to get her attention! I chat with her, pace about the room when she's here, I even try to dance a little, though his playing is horse dung…" Sinmir motioned toward Mikael, the mead in his tankard sloshing over the rim. "It's just no use. She never sees us."

"There, there now." Carlotta reached out and patted his hand.

"It's true." Uthgerd rose from her chair and stepped toward the fire. For a moment no one moved, no one breathed, uncertain how to react. Uthgerd never moved from her chair. "She doesn't see us anymore."

"She sees me," Mila whispered.

"Aya." Uthgerd smiled at the girl. "And so she should. You are a strong, brave little thing and will one day grow to be a valiant warrior. But for the rest of us, she has completed her 'tasks' and now has no need of us."

"What do you mean, Uthgerd?" Carlotta asked, puzzled.

The warrior sighed and then pointed at Carlotta. "She helped you, yes? Asked Mikael to stop being an idiot and when that was blatantly impossible she pummeled him until he submitted."

"Hey…" Mikael tried to argue.

Carlotta nodded. "Yes. That's what happened."

"And you," Uthgerd gestured to Saadia who had moved to the bar, her endless sweeping on hold. "She helped you with the Alik'r at the gate, yes?"

"How did you…" Saadia began.

"Oh please, Redguard. We all knew they were looking for you. We simply were not going to give you up," Uthgerd chuckled.

Saadia glanced at each of their faces, seeing the warmth and regard in their eyes. "Oh I didn't… I didn't know… thank you. Thank you all so much."

Hulda placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and handed her a clean clothe to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"She helped you, yes? Did whatever she needed to do to send those mercenaries packing? But since then… how often has she talked to you? Visited?"

Saadia shook her head. "Not at all," she murmured and then suddenly she looked hopeful. "Well, I do fetch her mead on occasion, when she comes to the inn."

The look Uthgerd gave her was full of pity.

"I guess… I guess that's not the same," Saadia sighed.

"And you," Mikael added testily, not forgiving her for calling him an idiot. "Uthgerd the Unbroken? She broke you well and good!"

Uthgerd turned to the man and catching his gaze with her own, stared at him. Waiting. To his credit Mikael held her gaze for a solid minute before looking away, embarrassed. "She beat me in a fair fight. Proved her strength and fortitude. That fight did not… break me." A log in the tavern firepit cracked, spewing sparks high into the air. Uthgerd watched them for a moment, her heart heavy. "At that moment I pledged myself to her, I offered to follow her anywhere, into any battle. Fight by her side to save my beloved Skyrim! But each time she returned… each time she came back to the tavern, she did not approach me. In fact, it was almost as if she did not see me. I had become invisible to her."

Hulda stepped out from behind the bar and placed her hand on Uthgerd's armored shoulder. "It's alright, woman. Ye' are among friends."

Uthgerd clenched her fists, thrusting them into the empty air. "I simply wanted a chance to fight! Fight along side a warrior whose skills equaled my own. Someone who could accept my ferocious nature and use my skills to do something good, something amazing!" Uthgerd took a deep breath, steadying herself and then turned to Mikael. "So no, bard. When she fought me she beat me, she did not break me. But when she left me behind… that has been my undoing."

Mikael stared at the warrior, dumbfounded. He had spent his life mastering ways to seduce women. Ways of making them tremble in his arms, swoon at his feet. He had never, in his life, spent a single moment developing a way in which to comfort one.

The door to the tavern burst open and everyone jumped. As one they turned to stare at the person, angry with them for disturbing them and terrified that it might be the one they had been dissecting.

Lydia stepped through the door and closed it behind her. She turned toward the bar, expecting to see Hulda there, only to find it empty. Curious she turned to the tavern fire, finally registering the group standing there, staring at her. "Hello…" she said tentatively.

"Hello."

"Hey."

"How are you?"

Lydia stepped toward the group, curious. "I'm fine. What's going on?" At her question everyone glanced away. Their eyes caught and held by the inn's rafters, the fire's sparks and the tips of their boots.

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

Lydia's eyes narrowed as she took a seat on the open bench, facing the kitchen. "It doesn't look like nothing," her tone was curious.

"It's nothing, nothing at all." Mikael strummed his lute, the chords off key and irritating.

"Hmm… I see." Lydia put a finger to her ear, trying to dull the sound.

"We're just… chatting," Carlotta said, offering Lydia a gentle smile. It did not reach her eyes.

"Do you want anything, Lydia?" Saadia asked.

"Tankard of mead would be nice."

"Certainly." Saadia moved behind the bar to fetch the mead.

There was a moment of strained, uncomfortable silence before Mila said, "We were talking about the Dragonborn." The collective groan that followed that remark could be heard in Windhelm.

"Oh," Lydia grinned as Saadia handed her the mead. "Have you heard any news of her?"

As one they glanced at her, curious. "Not since she left an hour ago," Sinmir snorted.

"I'm sorry… what?" Lydia froze, the mead inches from her mouth.

"We haven't heard anything about her since she left here an hour ago!" Sinmir repeated angrily and then paused as Carlotta placed a gentle hand on his.

"She was here?"

"Yeah," Hulda took a seat on the bench next to Lydia.

"Here? In this tavern?"

They stared at her, realization dawning.

"In town? In this Inn? In Whiterun? An hour ago?" Lydia's tone was growing increasingly frantic.

"Uh huh." Hulda reached out and placed a hand on the Housecarl's shoulder. She had a feeling this was going to be a difficult moment for the woman.

"In here… here… she was here…" Lydia slowly lowered the mead, her heart breaking.

"I take it she did not stop by Breezehome?" Carlotta's tone was sympathetic.

Lydia shook her head, careful to keep her gaze on the flames before her. She had the sinking feeling there might be tears in her eyes.

"Oh honey, maybe she had to rush off? Perhaps 'da Jarl had a mission for her?" Hulda tried to be reassuring.

"But she had time for a pint?" Lydia mumbled.

Uthgerd motioned to Lydia. "This is what I meant. This is our burden." The others nodded in agreement.

"What… what are you talking about?" Lydia glanced at them, confused.

"We were talking about her. About how she aids us, makes us love her, and then disappears off the face of the earth," Uthgerd said with a great deal more anger than she had intended.

"But she doesn't! She hasn't…" Lydia tried to protest, but found her heart wasn't in it. She was hurting, badly. The Dragonborn had been here! In Whiterun! And hadn't even bothered to stop by the house, to check in or see how she was doing. By the gods even if she didn't give a skeever's ass how her Housecarl was, the least she could do was check on her stuff!

"Its okay, Lydia. We're all sad," Mila sighed.

Through her tears, Lydia smiled across the flames at the girl.

"How long has it been?" Uthgerd asked.

"Been?"

"Since she has stopped by Breezehome. Visited you? Made sure you were doing well, had everything you needed?"

Lydia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "Six months."

Sinmir whistled. "By the gods. Not a word in six months?"

Lydia shook her head.

"But… she's been here three times since my birthday! That was two months ago." Mila was so busy doing the math in her head that she hadn't given much thought to how her words would affect Lydia. The Housecarl's strangled cry brought tears to her eyes. She jumped from her seat and raced to Lydia's side, pressing herself against the woman in as tight a hug as she could manage, considering the Housecarl's armor. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Lydia! Momma! I'm sorry!"

Carlotta shook her head. "It's alright, baby. You didn't know."

Tears streamed down Mila's face as she pressed even harder against Lydia. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she mumbled into the woman's leather cuirass.

Lydia took a deep breath and lifted her left arm, letting Mila burrow in closer. Pulling the girl to her she found comfort and strength in the little girl's presence. The look she gave the others was filled with sadness and a little shame. "It might be… it's probably… my fault."

"What?"

"No!"

"How?"

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Lydia," Hulda reprimanded the woman.

"No… I should. I… I thought, being her Housecarl, would be different." Lydia glanced at the others, her grin self-deprecating. "Housecarl to the Dragonborn! Owww! I expected… so much! I thought I'd travel the world with her. Go places I'd never been! See things I'd never seen! Battle bandits, necromancers, dragons! Maybe meet the Greybeards or the Jarls of Windhelm, Markarth or Solitude. She's a Thane in all those holds you know."

They nodded, murmuring in agreement. It was well known the Dragonborn had a house in every hold. Held wealth beyond imagining.

Lydia took a sip of her mead, her thoughts scrambled, her sadness overwhelming. "I just never thought… I never imagined she would just leave me there. Sitting. In the dark. Guarding her belongings. Alone."

No one spoke for a moment, the image she painted heartbreaking. It was Mikael who broke the silence, his fascination for the Dragonborn's wealth overcoming his compassion. "Does she have a lot? I mean… what kind of treasures does she keep at Breezehome?"

Lydia's garbled laugh was not the reaction he expected. "That's the funny part. Nothing! She has nothing of any real value at home. Some alchemic ingredients. A few swords. Oh… the double handed Whiterun axe Jarl Balgruuf gave her. But that's it."

"Nothing else?" Mikael's disappointment was palpable.

"Nothing else," Lydia sighed. "Oh, wait. She always has a few sweetrolls." She held her breath for a moment, fascinated by the drops of water that rolled down the tankard she held. With a strangled laugh she murmured, "Well then, that clears it up, that's why I'm there, alone, in the dark. I'm guarding her sweetrolls… with my life."

Her tone was sarcastic, filled with the shame she felt for being so easily forgotten. The arms around her waist tighten and she glanced down at Mila, her tear stained face echoing her own sadness and she was suddenly angry with herself. She was a Housecarl and had been assigned a job! And though the position had not turned out to be exactly as she hoped, she was still proud to protect the Dragonborn and all her property, even her sweetrolls. Embarrassed by her anger, she glanced at each of them, offering them a smile.

"I like sweetrolls," Mila stopped her sobbing and grinned.

"Ha ha! I'm with the child! Sweetrolls are worth protecting!" Sinmir raised his tankard and shouted.

"Ayh!"

"Here, here!"

Uthgerd took a gulp of mead in honor of sweetrolls, but her eyes did not leave Lydia's face. "There's more, yes?"

Lydia glanced at the warrior and then returned her attention to the fire. "It's so embarrassing."

Hulda patted her shoulder again. "It's alright, honey. We're here. Let it out."

Saadia moved to the unoccupied bench, her back to the door. "Go ahead, Lydia. You said you thought it was your fault? Why is her behavior your fault?"

Lydia squirmed for a moment, trying to find the words to admit her darkest secret, the real reason she knew the Dragonborn no longer stopped by Breezehome. Why she avoided Lydia altogether. "I… well… I did something rather stupid."

"What?" Carlotta asked encouragingly.

"I… it…" she took a deep breath and then let the words flow from her like mead from the tap. "It gets so lonely there. It had been a few months, maybe four or so, since she had left Breezehome in search of the Greybeards. I was alone all that time. I came to your stall, Carlotta. Remember? But I barely took the time to buy vegetables and then raced back to the house. I wasn't sure how long I should be gone, or when she would come home. And then one day, there she was! She had returned! I had kept everything spotless for her, the larder was stocked, the hearth lit. Everything was perfect. But after a quick greeting, she tumbled into her bed and fell fast asleep."

Lydia paused only a moment, her cheeks red in shame, and then valiantly continued. "It's just… she had been gone so long. I had so many questions for her! I wanted to hear about the Greybeards, ask if she had been to Riften or Windhelm! Hear of the battles she fought… just talk… to someone. So, while she slept, I… waited."

"Waited?" Uthgerd had a feeling she knew what was coming next.

Lydia nodded. "I waited. I sat… in the chair in her room… and watched her while… while she slept. Waiting."

Uthgerd grinned. By Oblivion, yes! It's what she would have done.

"You waited, in her room, watching her while she slept?" Mikael's eyes glazed over, his mind racing with images that did not involve Lydia 'waiting'.

Carlotta glared at Mikael and then nodded to Lydia in understanding.

"Was she mad?" Mila asked softly.

Lydia shook her head. "I don't think so. She awoke and saw me there. I was so flustered I simply said, 'At your service, my Thane.' It was so stupid." Lydia laughed. "Then she jumped up, donned her armor and out the door she went!"

"Was that the last time you saw her?" Saadia asked.

"No. She's returned a few times since then, but from what Mila says, it seems she returns to town a lot more often than I realized. I guess she doesn't always visit Breezehome when she's here."

There was a murmur of understanding and sympathy before Uthgerd said, "If only she would ask us to join her. I would follow the Dragonborn anywhere. Oh, the wonders we would see! The battles we would win!"

Once again the door to the inn crashed open, and they jumped in surprise. A storm had begun and the sound of thousands of raindrops hitting the cobbled streets echoed in the now silent tavern. The tavern doors slammed into the wall, but the doorway itself was empty. The group found the darkened doorframe unnerving, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Must have been 'da wind!" Hulda laughed and then rose to shut the door. Just as she reached the entrance there was a sudden brilliant flash of lightning. The bolt of light exposed a lone figure that filled the doorway, its dark silhouette startling the group. They gasped in unison.

The figure stepped from the darkness, into the tavern, a smile covering her face. "Sorry!" the Dragonborn mumbled. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"We weren't scared," Sinmir growled, "startled maybe. But not scared!"

The Dragonborn nodded. "Sorry to startle you then. Hello Mila! You're up late, aren't you?" The woman winked and Mila giggled.

Mila jumped from Lydia's side and raced to the Dragonborn. The woman reached out and grabbed the child under the arms, swinging her around in a circle before gently placing her on the ground. Mila wrapped her arms around the Dragonborn, squeezing her tightly. "Oooww… you're all wet!" she cried.

"Well it's raining out, sweetroll." As if in response to her words, the room was flooded with a flash of lightning, quickly followed by a boom of thunder so loud it shook the benches. Mila gripped tighter to the Dragonborn's waist.

"Do you want something, Dragonborn? Some mead? Some Eidar cheese?" Hulda, trying hard to ignore the guilt she suddenly felt, took refuge in her job as Innkeeper.

"That would be wonderful, Hulda. Thank you." The Dragonborn moved toward a bench, pulling Mila with her. Taking a seat next to Saadia, she let Mila crawl onto her lap. Then, taking the Black-Briar mead that Hulda offered her, she grinned at the group. "It's good to see everyone is here. It makes things easier."

They glanced at each other, feeling guilt over their recent conversation, mixed with curiosity over what the Dragonborn might mean.

"What do you mean, my Thane?" Lydia was the first to speak.

"I've… I've come to a decision," the Dragonborn began. "I realize that I cannot do… everything that is asked of me. I cannot be everywhere, all the time. People have been hurt, people have died… because I could not respond quickly enough to their requests for aid. It… I…" she paused, the pain, the stress of the past few years working its way into her tone. Mila reached up and touched her cheek and the Dragonborn closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the child to comfort her. Then she opened her eyes, her determination written clearly in them. "I need help. I need your help. I cannot, should not ask this of you, of any of you. But I am."

"Ask what, Dragonborn?" For the first time in months, Uthgerd felt a sense of excitement fill her.

"Uthgerd the Unbroken, my friend. I need your ferocity, your vigilance. I have been working with the Dawnguard, helping them in ferreting out Vampires and destroying those that have proven to be a menace to Skyrim. But Fort Dawnguard is too far removed from Whiterun. I need a presence here, in the center of Skyrim. I have purchased a large parcel of land from Severio Pelagia. I want you to build me a fortress, recruit a new Dawnguard and then train them to battle the evil that permeates Skyrim."

"Truly?" Uthgerd barely dared move, to breath. This was the answer to a prayer! This was a calling! A true and noble use of her skills!

"Truly. I will need to discuss with you the… well… my feelings on Vampires. But yes. We need a strong warrior presence here that helps those who cannot help themselves. We need to protect the weak."

"What about the Companions?" Saadia mumbled aloud.

Dragonborn shrugged. "They fight for gold. Perfectly understandable. I want a Dawnguard force, whose only mission is to help those who are in need."

Uthgerd stood as straight as she could, her grin lighting the room. "It will be done, Dragonborn."

"Sinmir."

The aged warrior pulled his gaze from Uthgerd, focusing on the Dragonborn. "Yes?"

"The civil war approaches." At the collected gasp of her friends the Dragonborn shrugged. "It comes, it is inevitable. The Thalmor have made it so. You have made mention of your disregard of Commander Caius' methods."

Sinmir nodded, unable to speak. His mind kept repeating one phrase. She heard me! She heard me!

"Well, to a certain extent, I agree." She laughed at Sinmir's gasp. "Not entirely, mind you. But you do have some valid points. I have asked the Jarl for, and received, special dispensation for creating a 'common man militia'. I would like you to run the Whiterun chapter."

"A militia?" Sinmir tried to process the concept through the murky haze of his mead addled brain.

"Yes. A small contingent of non-military personnel who will be trained for combat, at my expense, and be ready to protect Whiterun when the war reaches its walls."

"I will train them? I will organize them?" Sinmir felt a fire burning in a heart he had thought lost long ago.

"Yes. You will organize and coordinate every aspect of the militia. Even name it, if you like." She grinned as the man tossed his tankard of mead into the firepit.

"Oh I like… I like indeed! There is much work to be done! I'll show that Caius how to run an army. By Oblivion, I'll show him!"

"Hulda."

The Innkeeper turned to the Hero of Skyrim, her gaze filled with questions. "What would you ask of me, Dragonborn?"

"I was hoping," the Dragonborn paused, knowing how much she was going to ask of the Innkeeper. "I was hoping you might be… willing to retire."

"What?" Hulda asked, stunned.

"I've spoken to Ysolda. She's ready to buy the Inn, she's up for the challenge."

"But why? Why would I sell now?" Hulda asked hurt and betrayed by the Dragonborn's request.

"Because I need you. Skyrim needs you. You and… Carlotta." The Dragonborn turned to Carlotta, her grin sheepish.

"What? Why?" Carlotta stared at the woman.

"I have traveled through out Skyrim. I have seen Dwemer ruins, dragons, Nordic tombs, cities, Jarls, mages… heh… so many things," she paused for a moment, her thoughts filled with the past two years. "But the one thing I haven't seen, is a school. Oh yes, there is the Mage's College and the Bard's College. But what about the children? Where do they learn to read, write? Where are they free to discover their strengths, their loves? To explore literature, art or magic? I want to build a school and I want you two to run it."

"But… what about my stall?" Carlotta tried to process the concept of running a school. How did one do that?

Hulda had grown still, her heart pounding in her chest. There were no schools in Skyrim, no formal training for children until they reached the age of maturity and presented themselves to a guild member or College for study. To start a school, here in Whiterun… it would be the first of its kind in Skyrim! "I… I will. I will do this!" She glanced at Saadia, her eye's alight with excitement. "By 'da gods I will actually get out of 'dis tavern!"

"You would need a building, of course. I have spoken to the Jarl and he has agreed to allow me to expand Breezehome. I want the school well within the walls of Whiterun. I plan on gutting Breezehome entirely, expanding out the back, creating classrooms as well as a library, a meal hall and chambers. For the students and yourselves, if you wish to live there. Simply put my friends, these are dark times. Death travels through Skyrim and he is voracious. I have found orphans, lost and homeless, in every city I have traveled to. I cannot continue to look the other way, when so many of Skyrim's children are suffering."

Carlotta's gaze fell to her daughter's face. Mila was staring at the Dragonborn as she spoke, her expression filled with fear and wonder at the woman's words. What if it was her daughter, her precious Mila, who suddenly found herself alone, frightened? "Of course," Carlotta found herself saying, her eyes never leaving Mila's face. "Of course I will help."

"I'll help too, momma!" Mila jumped from the Dragonborn's lap, moving to her mother's side. "I can teach other kids everything you've taught me! All about fruits and vegetables and how some grow better in the cold and about hard work and getting the job done before you get to play!"

The group chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, her excitement contagious. "Jumping into the unknown, without fear! I told you, Carlotta, she has a warrior's heart!" Uthgerd bowed to the girl.

"Saadia, will you stay on, help Ysolda run the inn?"

Saadia bowed her head. "Of course, Dragonborn. I would be honored. But I do have one request."

"Yes?"

"Well, as you all know," she glanced at the group, grinning at them. "I am undercover, on the run from the Thalmor. What you may not know is that I am actually the daughter of a noble house. I have been educated in mathematics, the arts, magicka and self defense. If it is agreeable, I would like to teach at the school. I have a great deal more to offer Whiterun, than waiting tables."

The Dragonborn glanced at Hulda and Carlotta who nodded in agreement. "Of course, Saadia! How could I do it wi'dout you!" Hulda laughed.

"My Thane," Lydia, silent up until now, glanced at the Dragonborn her face reflecting her confusion. "You will turn Breezehome into a school? What… where… shall I be guarding the school then?" Her heart thudded in her chest. She felt angry, so very angry. Everyone else had a task! Everyone else had a purpose! A mission! But had the Dragonborn asked for her help? Given her life meaning? No! She had even taken away Lydia's home! She offered no apology, showed no remorse. Why was she being treated so unjustly? What could she have possibly done to provoke the Dragonborn to such cruelty?

"Guard the school? What? No!"

"Then what am I to do? Where am I to go?" Lydia stood, her voice rising in direct proportion to her anger.

"I… I," the Dragonborn stammered. "I need you." The silence in the room was so complete that the rain drops against the window panes sounded like thunder.

"What?" Lydia cleared her throat, not willing to believe what she heard.

"I need you, Lydia." The Dragonborn stumbled, more frightened of what she was about to say than when she had faced Alduin. "I should not ask this of you, the danger to you is great, but, I need you to come with me. I cannot do this alone. I need you by my side."

"I… you… you need me?" Lydia allowed the words to wash over her, letting them soak into her skin, their meaning coming to gentle fruition in her heart. The months of loneliness, of sitting idle by the hearth, of setting a table where no one would eat, of patrolling up and down the stairs of a house empty but for herself… began to melt away.

"I need you," the Dragonborn repeated. "But I will not ask it of you as your Thane. The path I tread is filled with death, and I would only have you join me if it is what you wish."

Lydia stared at the woman seated before her. She was still drenched to the skin, droplets of rain dripping off her armor, her hair, forming a pool at her feet. Her eyes were warm, but her expression was guarded. Almost as if she was controlling herself, preventing herself from swaying Lydia in any way. For the first time, Lydia could sense, the weight the Dragonborn carried. If she should try to sway Lydia, if she begged her to come and then died while traveling with her, what a weight the Dragonborn would carry! How did she deal with it, day after day, knowing how drastically every decision, no matter how small might affect those around her?

She glanced at the others. They had been complaining, harping on what the Dragonborn didn't do, never taking into account all that she did do, all that she had to do. Not because she was Dragonborn, not because she sought these battles out, but because people sought her out and because these things needed to be done. And now the woman was asking for her help!

"When do we leave?" Lydia grinned at her friend, letting her excitement light up her eyes.

"Now," the Dragonborn replied with a grin. She jumped to her feet, relieved beyond measure that Lydia had agreed. Turning to the others, she gave them a quick nod, anxious now to set off. "I have set up an account with the Jarl for each of you. You should have plenty of funds to accomplish all I have asked. Thank you my friends and good luck." She turned to Lydia, almost unable to contain her excitement. "We'll need to leave immediately, as I have a contact waiting for me at Alftand. We will be entering a region known as Blackreach and I…"

"Dragonborn?"

She turned to Mikael, her tone curious. "Yes?"

"What… what do you need from me?" If Mikael had tried he could not have looked more forlorn.

The Dragonborn's grin was filled with compassion and just a touch of mockery. Lifting a bulging sac of septims from her belt, she tossed the coins at the bard. "Tell you what, learn how to sing, eh? Then spread the word, The Dragonborn Comes." With that she and Lydia raced from the tavern, into the night.

There was silence in the room after they left, each of them overwhelmed with how their lives had just changed. It was Mila who finally broke the silence.

"Told you so! I said she was nice!" Mila's tone was triumphant and if it had not been completely childish to do so, she would have stuck her tongue out at them. She settled instead for grinning like a saber cat.