Stross followed Fenora to the door of the Winking Skeever. Though he had sought to clear his head last night, he now had more on his mind than ever.
Stross didn’t think he’d ever feel clean again, and he’d certainly never be able to think he was better than the rest of his kind, the ones that mercilessly siphoned their victims without remorse. He had already cried himself dry over his actions, and he was done sulking for now, but it still weighed heavily on him.
Living in Equestria was never exactly easy for him, considering what what he had to do to blend in. But his time in Skyrim was faster and harder than anything he'd ever experienced... always running into constant danger, being forced to exert himself… pushing his magic to the limits. Until he came to Skyrim he’d never been so close to death that he went feral. Not even once.
He couldn’t sustain himself at this rate, no matter what Fenora promised him.
Then there was the matter of Fenora keeping his deed a secret from him. It felt horrible to know that she had lied to him, almost as if their roles were reversed, like she was the changeling with a dark secret, and he was the foolishly trusting pony.
Yet on the other hoof… it was oddly comforting. Fenora knew how upset he would be if he found out, and she feared what would happen if he did. She covered up his act of wanton slaughter to spare his feelings, because she valued his company… his friendship. It was the kind of lie that always made Stross uncomfortable, yet it was still meaningful. How many times had he hid the truth to protect someone he cared about?
Fenora said she loved him, and unsteady as he was, Stross loved her back. More than that though, Fenora trusted him, wanted him. Stross felt he could forgive her at least, and continue to trust her in return.
He decided to think on it more later, setting his mind on their immediate goal instead. This made it easier to move forward.
Lydia was waiting for them at the Blue Palace, meeting with her cousin and preparing to show them the sights of Solitude. A guided tour of the city and a day to take a break from saving the world sounded pretty nice right now.
With his disguise in place, Stross stepped thought the door and onto the streets of Solitude, hand in hand with Fenora and ready for whatever the day had in store for them.
*CHOP!*
Stross looked up just in time to see a man get decapitated in front of a large crowd. The white of the bone was facing him from the gaping neck-stump, and a wayward spurt of blood gushed from the open wound.
“Oh, yeah. ‘Cus that’s what I want to see right after breakfast.” Fenora groaned, averting her eyes from the scene. “Fuckin’ Skyrim.”
“I-… he-… B-but…” Stross sputtered incoherently as a pair of soldiers picked up his body and dragged it off the stage. “Wha…”
Seeing her changeling in distress, Fenora pulled him closer and gave him a reassuring pat. “Hey, it’s alright. Public executions are nothing new. I’m sure they had a good reason. Hey buddy!” she pulled a nearby man aside as he walked away from the event. “What’d that guy do?”
He was a tall bearded man who wore a thick, soot-covered apron; he was a blacksmith most likely. He snorted at the question. “Caught the tail end of that, did ya? That there was old Roggvir, one of the city guards. He let Ulfric Stromcloak escape the city the day he murdered Torygg. Ulfric could have been stopped then and there, but ‘cause of Roggvir he got away, and the war got to where it’s at now. Least he’s not our problem no more.”
“Good riddance to bad rubbish I says.” An old woman spat in passing.
“Ulfric huh? Figures.” Fenora said with a bite in her voice. She supposed they’d been lucky to not get caught up in any civil war nonsense so far, barring the time they got captured and brought to Helgen. She felt the urge to punch something whenever she heard about Ulfric’s shenanigans.
You would think the news of a dragon apocalypse would put the war on hold.
“Did he really have to die though?” Stross asked. “Couldn’t they have… I dunno, just locked him up, or exiled him? Or locked him up in the place they exiled him to?”
“Rumor has it, that was Queen Elisif’s original plan. But they didn’t want to risk Roggvir leaving to join the Stormcloaks when they let him go. Either way, it don’t matter now, and I got too much forgin’ to do to worry ‘bout it.” the smith said before walking off. “Be sure to stop by my shop if you need arms or armor.”
The crowd from before had nearly dispersed, people going about their daily lives and acting as though they hadn’t watched a man lose his head. To Stross, it was uncanny how at ease they were after watching someone die like that.
Fenora wasn’t slow to pick up on this either.
“I’m guessing executions aren’t a public spectacle where you’re from?”
“They don’t have executions of any kind in Equestria.” Stross told her.
“You’re kidding.” Fenora balked. There had to be something they did, possibly something worse than death. “Then how do they punish their criminals? What happens when someone breaks the law there?”
“They’re reformed, befriended, given another chance. Worst comes to it, they lock them away in magical time-out. It's not easy and it doesn't always work out well, but they never just... kill them.”
Fenora looked off into the distance, above the rooftops and towards the sky. She didn’t know whether to snicker or frown. A place where no one is killed for their crimes? A place where even the worst of the worst are given a second chance?
"Equestria sounds almost too good to be real. But wait-“ Fenora wondered. “If that’s the case, then how come changelings like you are still hated? Where’s your second chance?”
Stross’s answer was a simple one. “We haven’t earned it yet. Imagine more of what you saw in Bleak Falls, a lot more. Do you really think we’re worth befriending?” he asked.
“Yes. I do.” she said with certainty. “Maybe one day you can take me there and I can help you prove it. But until then, Skyrim isn't going to save itself. So let's get to the Blue Palace already."
Stross nodded, and they started on their way.
But it seemed their conversation hadn’t gone unheard.
“If you’re going to the Blue Palace, you might want to rethink that outfit.” A voice commented in a tone even the Canterlot elite would consider snobbish.
The two looked over at who’d spoken, an Altmer in a fine silk outfit by the name of Taarie. She looked at both of them with her face screwed up into a perpetual sneer.
Fenora quickly checked the shirt and pants she was wearing. They were a tiny bit singed from the fight with Yolos, and a bit sweaty from all the walking. But she didn’t see anything terribly wrong with them. It’s wasn’t like she was wearing Stromcloak armor.
“Why? Is there some kind of dress code?”
Taarie scoffed, looking distraught at the very idea. “Is there a- There are no dress codes in life dear, only standards. And you could certainly hold yourself to a higher one. I simply cannot allow you to enter Queen Elisif’s court dressed like that. Come.”
Fenora and Stross watched as she turned on her heel and briskly walked away.
“Well hurry up then! Don’t dawdle!” she called over her shoulder with clear annoyance.
“We should just keep walking.” Fenora said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to hoity.”
“I don’t know Fen,” Stross said as he shut down his changeling vision, “She seemed pretty genuine under all that unfiltered disgust. Besides, we might get some cool stuff!”
Fenora thought about it and shrugged. That was good enough for her.
Fenora wished she wasn’t so greedy when it came to getting new stuff. Finding a shiny set of armor in a dungeon chest was one thing… this was quite another.
“Do stop squirming. Honestly.” Taarie’s sister Endarie ordered while she made a few painful adjustments to the stupidly ornate dress they were fitting her with. “Hold one moment, I must find a different colored cape, something that might possibly compliment that garish silver hair of yours.”
Both Taarie and Endarie were Altmer, High Elves and sisters that ran a clothing store together: Radiant Raiment. Together they made extremely elegant and extremely expensive clothes for the nobles of the Queen’s court.
If only their personalities had the same beauty they put into their outfits.
Somehow Endarie was even more obtuse than her sister. From the second she arrived at their shop, Fenora had been hit with one backhanded insult after another. By the way the sisters talked, it seemed almost a hindrance to create the outfit, even though Taarie insisted upon it.
Endarie returned with a dark green cloth that she draped around Fenora’s shoulders to form the finishing touches on the cloak, pinning it in place with a look of supreme concentration.
Away from the grunts of discomfort and orders to hold still, Stross waited in the front of the store, deciding against his better judgement to make some idle chat with Taarie.
“This is a pretty nice shop you have here.” he began with the most neutral comment he could think of besides ‘how’s the weather’.
Taarie scoffed. “This squalid excuse for a shop is all we can afford, the way those damn nobles keep driving up the rent to fund their ridiculous war effort.” she said with a frown and a palpable feeling of distain. “This is no place for us to work in when we’re forced to make ends meet.”
Stross got a strong sense of irony as he glanced around the room, at the shelves of pristine wood littered with gems and expensive fabrics.
“I guess the war has taken its toll on everyone.” Stross said as sympathetically as he could.
“More like the nobles have taken their toll on everyone.” Taarie muttered, “And yet they still expect us to provide them with clothing fit for their ‘stature’. Hah! Endarie’s right to call them pigs… though I wish she’d stop doing it while they’re in earshot.”
“It’s finished sister. I’ve done what I could with her.” Endarie announced before swiftly departing back to her sewing room.
Stross let out a quick whistle as Fenora stepped out.
It was a decently long garment; the hem just barely touched the tops of Fenora’s feet, while the cape covering her left shoulder reached just past her waist. Endarie had used a bright green fabric for both, with a deep brown leather for the belts and laces. Overall the outfit was decently thick, but was tailored tight enough that it didn’t hide the curves of Fenora’s waist and hips. And those gold highlights laced throughout really tied everything together.
Rotten attitudes aside, the Altmer sisters knew their stuff.
“You look beautiful Fenora.”
Fenora blushed. It was nice to hear a genuine compliment after all of Endarie’s chatter.
“So, how much is this going to cost?” she asked Taarie with a bit of apprehension. Surely it was going to be a lot.
Taarie smiled devilishly. “Normally an outfit of this caliber would cost several hundred septims at least, far beyond your price range I’d imagine.”
Fenora felt her jaw drop. She knew she had that much… maybe. But she sure as heck wasn’t going to spend it all on one dress, especially one she couldn’t fight in.
“However…” Taarie said, her smile growing wider. “I do have a business to run, and commissions have been rather scarce lately. So if Queen Elisif were to see our work… and was convinced to order one of our dresses for herself, well… who knows how many would follow suit? Pun intended.”
Fenora let out a sigh. “If you wanted me to be a walking advertisement, you could have just asked. Sure, I’ll do it.”
“Excellent!” Taarie clapped her hands together, with the first genuine smile they’d seen on her face. “Hurry along now. And be sure to stop by Radiant Raiment again if you need a new look!”
Fenora looked to Stross as they left, shaking her head and giving a thumbs down.
After walking through the cobblestone streets of Solitude, with its high-roofed houses, exquisite architecture, and sturdy stone walls, Stross and Fenora finally made it to the Blue Palace.
Amazingly, Fenora only tripped and fell on her face once, cursing the length of Taarie’s dress.
The Palace itself was a giant stone castle comprised of two large wings jutting out from the central building. The roofs were covered in deep blue tile, thus living up to its namesake. But the first thing either Fen or Stross noticed was the number of guards present in the courtyard. In total there must have been fourteen of them, plus any number more inside.
It only stood to reason that after Ulfric’s act of regicide there would be cause for additional security, to keep the Queen safe and secure from any further acts of treason.
The one thing they didn’t see was Lydia.
“She never told us where in the palace to meet her.” Fenora realized. “I guess she’s inside waiting for us.”
“Halt!”
As soon as the shout was heard, so too was the unsheathing of a half dozen swords as the two of them were surrounded.
“AAH, They’re pulling weapons on us Fen!” Stross shrieked as he clung tightly to her back.
“I haven’t seen either of you around here before. No one is allowed within the palace except on official business.” A guard quickly informed them. “State your names and purpose immediately!”
“Alright, take it easy. I’m Fenora Tandis, this is my companion Stross. My houscarl Lydia has a cousin that works in the palace, we were supposed to meet them here. Also I’m supposed to show off this outfit to the Queen so she’ll want to buy one.”
“Very concise Fen. Little more than he needed to know, but very concise.” Stross whispered.
The guard looked over the both of them carefully, not lowering his weapon an inch. “A likely story.”
“Probably because it’s true. We were going to get a tour around the city.”
“Do you think I was born yesterday? You’re not fooling anyone with your ridiculous story.” the guard continued obstinately, flecks of spit spraying out his visor. “It sounds to me like you’re meeting up with your accomplices so they can take you around to spy on us, before you assassinate the Queen!”
Fenora made a low growl in the back of her throat. Fenora could handle Skyrim’s incompetent guards, but she was quickly learning to hate Skyrim’s paranoid ones.
“Who’s making up ridiculous stories now!?” Fenora shot back. She felt Stross tug back on her shoulder, and she reigned herself in with a tense inhale. “Look, could one of you just go in and tell Lydia we’ve arrived? Don’t worry, we’ll wait right here ‘till you get back.”
Fenora felt Stross’s fingers grip her shoulder tightly. He was nervous.
The guard stared at her through his visor. Fenora stared back, unblinking.
No one around noticed the slight glow near Stross’s forehead, nor the inaudible words he muttered. “You don’t have time to leave your post and deal with us. You should let us go in and look for ourselves.”
“I don’t have time to leave my post. Go in and look for them yourself.” the guard monotoned before stepping aside.
The rest of the guards followed suit after him, and our heroes walked in.
Stross let out a sigh of relief as the doors shut behind them, blocking the guards outside.
Just as quickly though, a grin spread across his face. “Hee heeee… I can’t believe that worked! I’m like a Jedi!” Stross cackled inwardly at his awesomeness.
The inside of the Blue Palace was feeling more cramped than one would think, partially due to the decorative plants filling the corners, partially due to the half dozen guards standing stoically at attention… but mostly due to the huge crowd of people occupying the throne room.
People young and old, merchants and nobles, soldiers and bakers. All of them were clamoring for the attention of the Queen. Every person present knew for sure that their problems took priority, and were more than willing to shove others out of the way, raising their voices above the rest in order to be heard. The Queen’s bodyguards and advisors had abandoned setting them into an orderly line, and had fallen back on simply keeping them at a respectable distance. Even that was failing.
Through the commotion, from the very back of the mosh-pit, Stross made eye-contact with Elisif the Fair for the very first time. Even without his changeling senses, her exhaustion and worry was plain to see. Stross had never met Elisif before now, barely knew a thing about her. Yet in this moment she looked less like the ruler of a nation, and more like a scared little girl who wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and hide.
“Gods, they try and keep us out, but they let these people inside?” Fenora gestured to the unruly crowd.
“ENOUGH!”
The voice boomed loud enough to silence the mob for a few precious seconds.
A tall, imposing man with steely eyes and a bushy red beard stepped before them all. “This kind of behavior will not be tolerated in Jarl Elisif’s court! If you cannot conduct yourselves in an orderly manner, your matters will not be addressed! Is that clear?”
This managed to bring the crowd down to a simmer, with only a scant few disgruntled mutterings before order was allowed to resume.
The man, Falk Firebeard, placed his hands on his hips and called forth the first person seemingly at random, and gave them a chance to speak.
It took quite a while before everyone had said their piece, was told their issue would be addressed in due time, and sent on their way with a few generic words of assurance. But while Fenora was simply standing by and fighting boredom, Stross was paying careful attention to what was being said, noting which class of people had the most grievances and how the peoples’ opinion of the Queen was faring.
To sum it up simply, everyone was discontent, and almost always due to the war. Merchants and farmers were being overworked and underpaid, having to fill enormous quotas of supplies for the war effort. Meanwhile the nobles weren’t faring much better, chaffing under the higher taxes on their trade companies so much that they were losing profit.
Stross could feel their frustrations. It was no wonder they hated Ulfric and his rebels; even in the city, far from the battle, his war was actively ruining their lives.
Aside from the norm, there were a few complaints about strange noises in the night, and reports of necromancers attacking travelers. Stross felt a bit better in knowing he had helped in his own way, but he knew it would take more than a few side-quests to end the war and get things back to normal for these people.
Surprisingly enough though, only one old man brought up the possibility of a dragon attack, and he was dismissed even quicker than the rest. It happened so fast that Stross couldn’t get a read on the steward or the rest before the next issue was brought up.
It was odd. Stross thought the dragons would have been everyone’s number one concern.
“Who’s next? Step up!”
Stross snapped his attention back to the present when he realized they were talking about him.
Fenora was quicker on the draw and stepped before the queen, dropping to a knee in a respectful bow. Stross hurried to follow suit as she introduced herself. “Greetings your majesty, I’m Fenora, and this is my companion Stross. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Stross couldn’t help taking a sideways glance at his friend. From what he’d seen of the elf so far, he honestly expected her to greet Elisif with a casual ‘Ey, what’s up queenie?’. But every part of her greeting was practically flawless!
“Where did this come from?” he thought. Then he noticed the slight tremble in her rigid kneeling form, and it all clicked. Fenora was probably practicing that in her head since they arrived.
Queen Elisif let out a tiny gasp and stood up from her throne. “Are you really Fenora Tandis, the dragonborn hero?”
Fenora and Stross shared a quick glance.
“Um, yeah. That’s me.”
Elisif let out a squeal of excitement. “Oh my goodness, I’ve heard so much about you! They tell me you defended Whiterun from a dozen dragons all by yourself, that you’re strong enough to carry four times your weight in cheese wheels, and that you can defeat a hundred men using only your fists! Is any of that true?”
Fenora recoiled a bit, unsure what to do when the Queen of Skyrim was bouncing up and down like an excited schoolgirl mere inches from her face. She was expecting her to be more... Queen-ish. Meanwhile Stross was just as confused, but having to stifle his giggles instead.
“L-lady Elisif please, a bit of tact?” the pale-faced court wizard reprimanded her, having been the first to recover from her outburst.
Elisif cleared her throat and straightened herself. “Ah, yes of course. It is a pleasure to meet you as well dragonbor-“
Her regained composure didn’t last long.
“Oh my gosh, I love your dress!” she said, running her fingers across one of Fenora’s sleeves. “Where’d you get it?”
“From… Radiant Raiment, here in the city.” Fenora answered awkwardly, “But those sisters were kind of-“
The rest of Fenora’s sentence was drowned out as Elisif told her Steward to commission three new dresses from Taarie and her sister, each in a different color.
“Uh hey, listen your majesty… it’s been great meeting you, but we were hoping you could help us find someone.” Fenora said, finally slipping out of Elisif’s grasp. “My housecarl Lydia has a cousin that works here in the Blue Palace. We were supposed to meet here so we could tour the city together.”
“My thane!” came a familiar voice.
“Huh, speak of the daedra.” Fenora said, turning to face her housecarl as she came running up the stairs to greet them.
“Your majesty, everyone…” Lydia said with a bow to Elisif and her court. “I apologize for not meeting you sooner, my thanes. Jordis and I decided to look for you and ended up getting lost.”
“Who?” Stross asked.
As soon as he did another woman in plate armor climbed the stairs to join them. If it weren’t for her slightly longer strawberry-blonde hair, and the calmer, more experienced look in her eyes, Stross could have sworn he was seeing double.
“My thanes, this is my cousin Jordis, the sword maiden.” Lydia introduced her.
Then the two threw an arm around each other’s shoulder and spoke in perfect unison with matching smiles, “We’re related!”
“Oh dear gods, there’s two of them.” Fenora said blankly. “I guess this means we can stop wasting your time now, your majesty. It was a pleasure to meet you.” She then made a quick bow and turned to leave.
“W-wait dragonborn! Please…” Elisif called before she could. “After you’ve finished seeing everything our fair city has to offer, I insist you join us back at the Blue Palace for supper. I have so many things I wish to ask you.”
Fenora was conflicted about objecting. On the one hand she wanted to spend that night getting ready for whatever Delphine was planning, but on the other there was free food, and with royalty nonetheless.
“We’d be honored to join you your highness. Thank you.” Stross answered before she could debate further.
Elisif smiled happily and returned to her throne, and our party of four descended the carpeted steps to leave.
As Fenora was reaching for the door, it suddenly burst open in her face and an old man rushed into the throne room with a music scroll clutched in his fist.
“Queen Elisif! Please hear my newest rendition of The Burning of King Olaf! I’ve made a number of alterations that I’m sure will change your mind about the festival!” he cried as the commotion in court started once again.
Stross looked over his shoulder one less time, seeing Elisif’s expression become tired once more.
“A Queen’s work is never over.” He thought as they left.
“Lydia’s been telling me all about the adventure’s the three of you have been on.” Jordis giggled as she led them out of the blue Palace and through the streets of Solitude. “You’re going to love Solitude! What would you like to see first?”
“I dunno,” Fenora shrugged, “Just take us wherever you feel like.”
Jordis faltered for a moment, but quickly gained a burst of confidence from being given the reigns. “Alright then, follow me!”
“She sure is bubbly.” Stross noted trying to keep pace with their guide.
Lydia smiled as she caught up to them. “Jordis is my favorite cousin. We loved to play together when we were little. She saw me all the way through my training to be a housecarl, even after she dropped out.”
Stross threw a questioning look. “Dropped out?”
Lydia nodded. “Mm-hm. I think she was never comfortable serving someone else.” she watched Jordis walking ahead with a spring in her step. “I believe she’s always longed for something else.”
“What about you Lydia?” Stross asked, wondering what secret aspirations she could be holding on to.
Lydia just gave him a friendly smile in return. “I am your sword and your shield, my thane.”
The first stop was a giant fortress of stone known as Castle Dour, home of the Imperial Legion, and residence of the Emperor… when he was visiting Skyrim at least.
As Jordis led them through, telling them of Castle Dour’s history and purpose, most of her words were drowned out by a series of sharp battlecries and the sound of steel hitting steel.
A large group of fresh-faced recruits, at least twenty men and women dressed in imperial leather, were squaring off in pairs. Wielding swords with purposefully blunted blades, they swung at each other with the ferocity of a storm… and about the same amount of grace.
“Wow, these guys could give the Royal Guards in Equestria a run for their bits.” Stross thought as he observed them from a safe distance.
Meanwhile a man in officer’s platemail walked among those sparring. He was a giant of a man with rippling muscle and broad shoulders, and battlescars covering much of his face. He was a veteran to the ways of combat, and he was sure to pass on his knowledge to every soldier present, chastising the recruits for every flaw in their technique.
“Captain Aldis!” Jordis called over, “Giving the new recruits their ritual hazing I see.”
“New?! These salmonlegs have been here nearly a month, and still don’t know their way around a sword.” Aldis barked so that all the soldiers could hear him. As he approached them though, his face took on a worried look, and he spoke in a much quieter tone. “I don’t know if they’re going to be ready when we need them, not at the rate we’re losing our veteran forces. They’re hardly suitable replacements.”
“They seem to be improving though. I know you can whip them into shape.” Jordis gave him a soft jab to his thickly muscled arm.
Aldis looked back at the soldiers in training. “Aye, but it’ll take some time yet. We need more promising recruits, not farmers and young upstarts that think they can take on the world.” he shook his head, “Ah, but now I’m dragging you into my problems again. Who are these fine people you’ve brought along with you today? ‘Fraid the Keep is off limits as usual while General Tullius holds a war conference.”
“This is Fenora Tandis, the dragonborn that saved Whiterun from that dragon attack, along with her companions Lydia and Stross.” Jordis introduced them all, leaving Aldis wide-eyed.
The Captain brought a hand to his forehead. “Y’mean that actually happened? Gods… I thought that was just a rumor. First Stormcloaks, and now bloody dragons.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Stross cut in, “Fen’s the dragonborn. She’s pretty much a dragon-slaying machine! And I'm here to help. We’re working a plan to get rid of those nasty winged lizards for good. You just worry about fighting the Stormcloaks.”
“Really? Well that’s good to hear. I guess I should leave you to it and get back to training these slackers.” Aldis said, nearly breathing a sigh of relief as he got back to the recruits. “Block with the flat of the blade, else you’ll nick the edge!”
Jordis decided to lead them through the shopping district next, and Stross made to follow, but felt an unmistakable tension behind him as he did.
He looked back to see Fenora lagging. “What’s wrong Fen?”
“You sure have a lot of confidence in me.”
Stross blinked. “Well, yeah. No one else in the world is destined to defeat Alduin and his army. Of course I believe in you!”
Fenora grit her teeth. “Thanks Stross, that’s… reassuring.”
Yet somehow she didn’t sound reassured.
Over the course of the rest of the day, the four of them went through pretty much everything there was to do in the city, guided by Jordis and her friendly relationship with the people of Solitude.
The Temple of the Divines was something they weren’t allowed to skip by any means, and Stross could see why. It was a grand place, with high ceilings and a distinctly serene atmosphere as the gods looked down from stained glass windows. Nine alcoves were set in the walls, each with a shrine for people to pray at… all except from one. The priest told them it had been empty for quite some time, ever since the worship of Talos was banned.
While they were there, they each took the time to pray to each of the Divines that remained.
Stross learned a tiny bit about what each of the gods stood for: modesty, compassion, justice, respect, and many other words that tied into wholesome morality. It felt like everything Equestria was built on, and Stross felt he could use that kind of guidance. So he offered a prayer to the gods of this new world, and to the living goddesses of his old one, the Princesses of night and day. He didn’t pray for anything specific, he wouldn’t know what to ask for, or if he was worthy to. But he hoped the feeling was there, and that they’d hear him.
When he stood, he noticed Fenora lingering at the shrine to Akatosh, the dragon god of time. When he listened closely, he could hear her whispered words.
“Dear Akatosh... please forgive me when I kill your stupid son. And please… give me the strength to kill him before he destroys the world. I know it’s a lot to ask of any parent, but see… I’d really prefer if the world doesn’t get destroyed. Everyone is counting on me, and all my stuff is here…”
On their way back through the market district, Jordis insisted they stop by Evette’s stall and sample her spiced wine, argued to be some of the best in all of Tamriel. Three bottles consumed between them confirmed it as fact.
A bit of lighthearted conversation, some shopping and sightseeing later and they found themselves out of places to visit.
An offhanded comment on what people do for fun in Solitude was all it took to get them where they were.
…
“Steady my thane.” Lydia cautioned Fenora lined up the shot.
“Shut up. I know.” Fenora hissed, doing her best to stay focused. Even all her training with the Greybeards hadn’t prepared her for this. But she couldn’t fail. There was simply too much on the line!
Her eyes flicked once more to the target below her, then to the path she’d have to take to hit it.
Her companions held their collective breath as Fenora finally threw the cabbage.
It flew through the air, hit a treebranch, bounced off the awning of a store, and ricocheted off a wall! But sadly it missed the bucket below by a full two feet.
“Crap.” Fenora muttered and grabbed another cabbage from the cart, lining up the shot again.
“…Crap.”
“…Crap!”
“…Soup and salad in Oblivion, come on!”
“Alright, last shot. Last shot! All or nothing!” Fenora threw her last cabbage, watching as it sailed through the air, making the same path as its brethren. “Yes!”
Fenora cheered and whooped as her shot finally went in.
“This really brings me back.” Jordis said as she and Lydia stretched out against the ramparts above the city gate. “Remember when we used to do this as children?”
“I remember the spankings our parents gave us.” Lydia said with a laugh. “Worth it.”
“Okay, that was impressive Fen. But step aside and watch a pro at work!” Stross swaggered up as he spun a cabbage on his finger. “I’ll bet you a sweetroll I make this first try!”
Peering over the edge, Stross lined up the shot, and threw his ball less than a second later. It sailed and bounced much like Fenora’s had, but took a wild spin when it hit the corner of a rooftop. Still, it swerved back just enough to make it in.
“Woo! First try! Nothing but skill baby!”
Fenora quickly cuffed him upside the head. “More like nothing but magic, you cheater. I saw that.”
“But you never said it was against the rules.” Stross sing-songed. “Sweetroll please!”
Fenora frowned and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up to her face.
Then she pressed her lips against his and let her tongue mingle inside his mouth.
“I’ll get you one later. Hopefully that’s enough to satisfy ‘till then.” She said as she pulled away, leaving Stross blissfully dumbstruck.
“Aww…” Lydia aww’ed.
“We should probably go soon.” Jordis told them.
“Right, it’s getting late.” Fenora looked skyward at the setting sun. “We wouldn’t want to be late for dinner with the Queen.”
“Also because the guards will be getting off their break any minute now.” Jordis said, peeking fearfully over the edge of the wall.
“What in the world?!” shouted a guard below them when he saw the hundreds of cabbages littering the streets. “It’s finally happening! The hackers have begun their unholy reign!”