Chapter Text
Three more days went by and Daya didn't even know if she was still sick or if the time in that chamber had exhausted her. It was late afternoon when there was a knock at the door and it opened immediately. There was no point in knocking at all, since nobody cared if she invited them in or not.
"My lady?" An old woman with a bun, dressed in a red robe, entered the room with a bundle of clothes in her hands.
Daya smiled at her, and she returned it with bright blue eyes. She didn't know her yet. Finally some change.
"The Jarl wishes you to put on this gown and get ready. This evening you shall join him in the palace theater and take part in the festivities."
"What's to celebrate here?" Daya wondered, frowning as she accepted the dress. Freedom and happiness?
"Alec the Bard will be reciting from his book 'The Dragonborn Tales' today, and there will be many people in attendance. The Jarl thought you might enjoy it and would like you to accompany him," the old lady explained kindly, patting her upper arm.
Daya stiffened. Alec was on his way. Hopefully he had thought this through. If there was anyone who could get her out of here, it would be him. But then again, no! She couldn't. She had to find a way to talk to him and let him know that she couldn't go with him. The villages would suffer if she left.
"And look here, my dear. He also wants you to wear this silver amulet tonight." The old lady took it out of the pouch strapped to her waist and held it out to her. Only slowly, Daya reached for the jewel.
"Can you tell me anything about this necklace?" she asked, puzzled when she noticed that it looked like a Forsworn soul amulet. No, it was one. Definitely. It had the same wave-like ornaments as her own had had. And they framed the characteristic floral design that the gemstones formed, except those weren't turquoise, but red.
"No, my child. The Jarl merely pressed it into my hand and requested me to deliver it to you. But I hope you will enjoy a wonderful time tonight. After all these days alone in this chamber, it will do you good to be among people again, won't it?"
"I ... guess you're right. Thank you."
Since the sun was about to set and she suspected that she wouldn't have too much time before she would be picked up, she quickly started to prepare herself.
When she was done, she stood in front of the mirror and inspected herself. It was a beautiful dress made of velvet. Low-shouldered, long enough to touch the floor, and tight around her torso, while slightly wider around her hips so it wasn't restrictive when she walked.
Was it a coincidence that it was the same blue as the one worn by the Stormcloak rebels? Most likely not.
She pinned her hair up elegantly with a few ornate clips, and plucked out a few strands so she wouldn't look too strict or serious. She freshened up her eyeliner and made up her lips, then grabbed the amulet and slipped it over her head.
A few moments later she was taken to a small chamber next to the throne room, where she was instructed to sit down and wait for the Jarl.
"Dragonborn," Galmar entered and greeted her with a nod.
"Good evening," she replied, amazed that he seemed to be able to spend a few hours without his axe, which was probably his best friend. He was still clad in his armor, but without the bear scalp. Though he looked more civilized and less threatening, he wasn't a very likeable guy.
"Galmar, I-" Ulfric burst in, spotted her and froze. Slowly, he raised his hand, covering his mouth for a second before letting it rub across his face. He drew in a breath, clenched his hand into a fist, and lowered it.
Daya swallowed and rose from her chair.
"Can you believe it?" Galmar asked. "The spitting image of her."
Frowning, she peered at the man out of the corners of her eyes before she turned her attention to the Jarl. She clasped the pendant around her neck and showed it to him.
"Was it my mother's?" she wanted to know, though she already sensed the answer.
"Yes, as was the dress." Ulfric's voice was quiet and he cleared his throat.
"Did she give it to you?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Pretty rude, eh? What do you think? That he stole it?! ...Damn those Forsworn!" Galmar rumbled and shook his head.
"I didn't mean to offend him! I just wanted to know, since we never let these amulets out of our hands," she spat at the grumpy Nord.
"It was a gift," the Jarl stated and took a deep breath before he added, "Let us head to the theater now. The people and the bard are already waiting."
-----
The theater was in the basem*nt of the palace, so it wasn't far, but she hadn't known this and was quite surprised when they just went down the stairs next to the throne room to get there. The hall was full of large tables with many people sitting around them, waiting for them to enter. She recognized Jarl Korir of Winterhold and Jarl Skald the Elder of Dawnstar. Both had been invited to Dragonsreach when Jarl Balfruuf had tried to win them over. Apparently, he had been unsuccessful.
Daya's eyes darted to the front, where Alec was already seated at a desk on the stage, staring at her. She couldn't keep glancing back for too long or Ulfric would notice that something was wrong. She didn't know him well enough to judge him yet, but well enough to know this. Quickly, she lowered her eyes and gazed down at the blue carpet they were slowly traversing as they made their way to the only empty table on the right side of the room.
While moving across the audience, she sensed that someone was watching her from the left. She turned her head slightly and two amber eyes flashed at her from beneath a black hood. Her heart began to race and an oppressive feeling spread through her.
She stared helplessly at Bishop for a moment, not daring to leave Ulfric's side despite her longing desire to throw herself into his comforting arms.
If he was here, who else? She felt an unsettling pressure rise in her chest. They were all in danger. This was insane.
She hadn't finished the thought when she spotted Raven walking over and placing a glass of water in front of Alec before moving back behind the stage and winking at her. Once at the table, Ulfric adjusted her chair and she sat down. When everyone was seated, the bard rose and approached them. She could feel herself trembling and had a hard time not to freak out with worry.
"Dragonborn, it is my honor! You would never believe how delighted I am to finally meet you in person. I hope you feel welcome in this city and moreover in this wonderful palace." Alec took her hand and indicated a kiss. His eyes flickered with concern from under his hat. Then he blinked three times in quick succession. Hopefully she would remember what he had taught her.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Daya smiled politely, but felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. He wanted that spy talk. She had also understood that he wanted to know if she was alright. But was that really necessary now? She was much too stressed for it. Well, at least it didn't get in the way of what she had to say to appease Ulfric's expectations in front of his guests. "And I appreciate your interest. I am doing perfectly well, thank you. I cannot remember ever being so well received anywhere else. Jarl Ulfric is a paragon of generosity and his hospitality leaves me wanting for nothing."
With a self-satisfied smile, Stormcloak folded his arms across his chest and looked around the hall, pleased to see the admiring faces of his visitors.
"How lovely to hear. Then I hope you will enjoy the evening before we reach the very highlight of the performance," Alec the Bard purred, winking at her.
"I am confident that your presentation will be a treat, as always. Your reputation precedes you. It is said that you know how to entertain." She smiled, trying to ignore her nervousness. It sounded as if he had a plan. Maybe she could leave with them...
"You have no idea how well informed you are, my lady," he said before he turned to the crowd. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I will begin my reading. Perhaps I'll succeed in exposing our guest of honor by revealing some of her greatest secrets!" He laughed loudly and exaggeratedly to animate the audience, and as expected, they joined in.
Daya swallowed. If he shared any more private stories, she would kill him. He had already gotten her into enough trouble with his book. The fact that most people thought his story was fiction didn't make her feel any less embarrassed.
-
"I can barely hold myself back," Bishop whispered to Rod, who was sitting right next to him at the same table.
"Neither can I, but we have to. Alec's going to drag this whole thing out so no one gets suspicious," her brother replied quietly, leaning towards him before taking a sip of wine.
"I wonder why she's wearing a dress and came with him. And her hair..."
"It's probably like Alec said, he's using her for image purposes. What do you think?"
"There's something wrong with her," he sighed.
"You mean because of her illness or the Ost incident?" Rod mused calmly.
"Look at her. The clothes, the awful hair, the way she's sitting there. The way Ulfric is sitting there. Now she says something to him and he smiles. She makes him smile!" Bishop refilled his glass and emptied it at once.
"You don't think she likes him, do you? You're getting ridiculous with your jealousy."
"No. That's not the point. The man is old and ugly. It's not that I'm stupid! But imagine they're friends, or she works with him. How would you feel about that?" Bishop pulled his hood lower into his face and peeked over at her again. Oh, how he hated her hair! She looked like a damn noble. The only thing missing was a crown.
"No way! He's a crazy racist who killed our grandfather. She would never do such a thing. And he almost killed Cael and me," Rod murmured in disgust, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Would you please shut up! You're going to give us away," Cael hissed as he leaned over from the nearby table.
"Do you still feel her?" Bishop asked him.
"What?"
"'If you can still feel her? Her emotions because of the ritual," the ranger explained, but the chief shook his head.
"But I can try to send her a message. Maybe she can hear me," Cael said in a low voice.
"Yeah, go ahead. And show me how to do it when we get the chance. That was one of the useful aspects of the ritual," Bishop whispered and nodded at him.
---
"Are you enjoying yourself, Dragonborn?" Ulfric bent towards her and asked.
"Yes, it's funny the way Alec brings it up. I actually remember this bounty hunt. It's one of the true stories he heard from my friend Lydia," Daya replied friendly and froze. What was she doing here? She couldn't just talk to him like that, could she?
"Good... Would you like another drink?" He raised his hand and called for the servant.
"Yes, the wine is... quite decent."
She swallowed and looked around while the servant did his work and she got her drink.
"When am I allowed to leave?" she asked with a sad look, worried about what would happen tonight. She heard Galmar begin to laugh in a low voice. But there was no reaction from Ulfric.
Should she dare to flee with Alec and the thieves when the time came, even though she wanted to refuse at first? With that she risked that Rod's and Cael's villages would be attacked. On the other hand, Stormcloak also had to inform his armies first, which meant that he had to send one or more couriers. They could be caught when they left the city and someone could be sent instead to warn the people there.
There wasn’t enough time to gather the allied tribes to fight back, but they could evacuate the villages. At least until they had brought all the clans together near their settlements.
If Bishop and Alec had taken this risk to save her and she refused, she could also put them in great danger. What if they were exposed? Which choice would cause less trouble and have a better chance of success? She had to choose the least bad.
Speaking of bad, her stomach suddenly churned and she felt nauseous. She glanced around in confusion and torment and felt the color fading from her face. At the same time, a sharp headache pierced her temples.
"Are you doing well?" Ulfric asked, watching her out of the corner of his eyes.
"No. Not really. I think I need to go to the bathroom," she whispered, trying to exhale slowly through her mouth to avoid throwing up.
"The theater has its own bathrooms back there. Feel free to go," the Jarl pointed to a door on the opposite side.
"Uh, it might take a while."
"Don't get the wrong idea, girl!" Galmar commented on her hasty departure.
She grabbed her dress, lifted it up so she wouldn't trip, and moved quickly towards the bathroom, running straight through the tables where the audience sat. Fortunately, Alec didn't show any reaction whereas Rod nudged the ranger to draw his attention to her.
She opened the door in the hall and hurried down a corridor until she reached a room with a sink. With a jerk, she lurched forward, clutched its sides, and threw up. Her body convulsed and the cramps in her abdomen got so bad that she thought she would puke her innards out.
This was unusually painful, and she was afraid that her stomach had been damaged or even infected by her disease. In any case, she shouldn't drink any more wine tonight. That would make it worse.
She leaned over the sink to support herself and took deep breaths in and out for a couple of minutes.
Surprisingly, the ache in her head, the nausea, and the convulsions stopped abruptly when she no longer had expected her condition to improve.
Relieved, she turned on the faucet, cleaned the basin, and washed and rinsed her mouth. Maybe she had just eaten something wrong, and now that it was out, the worst was over. Then her eyes fell on the mirror and she looked at her face. It was actually a bit pale. But that wasn't surprising after such a vomiting fit, it had never been that bad before.
But what was that?
A slightly reddish glow pulsated in her eyes. As if two rings were burning in them, shimmering bright and dark, growing smaller and larger.
No! Seriously? Now of all times?
Something red flickered around her iris, flashed for a moment, then slowly dimmed and everything returned to the way it had been before.
Upon closer inspection, however, she noticed that her eye color was a shade lighter than usual. It was still brown, and most people wouldn't be able to distinguish it, but her friends and confidants would probably see the difference.
Was this her transformation?
But she hadn't sensed an appetite for blood for a second in the last few days. And she didn't feel undead or anything. Right at that moment, she even felt healthier and fresher. Was the disease finally gone and she was no longer weak?
She ran her index finger over her teeth, touching their tips, and lifted her lip to examine everything carefully in the mirror. Her teeth looked normal. No fangs, no sharp canines, nothing.
She faltered and swallowed; that was so weird. First she had thrown up and it had actually felt like her life had left her body in the process, then that red glow in her eyes, and the symptoms of her illness had disappeared. Anyone else would probably be lucky that the transformation had failed. Looking back at the past few weeks, she had a hunch that it wouldn't be the same for her.
She bared her teeth, her nose wrinkled, and she allowed herself a little fun, hissing in amusem*nt at her own reflection. She needed to keep a sense of humor if she wanted to get through all this mess.
"Molag Bal's balls!" she shrieked, leapt backwards and slapped her hand over her mouth in shock. She knew it. It was so clear. Nothing would ever play out in her favor. And why should it? After all, she was just the Dragonborn, who had so many things to deal with that it didn't matter if one more or less catastrophe plagued her.
Eyes wide wide, she stepped back towards the mirror, almost in slow motion, and opened her mouth. Once again she exposed her teeth, this time very carefully, and her nose wrinkled again. She watched how her canines slowly emerged from her upper and lower jaws, becoming larger and sharper.
So, she had the ability to extend them? Interesting. And practical. And thank the Gods they were not permanently visible.
According to Hern, she should be incredibly strong at this point and her senses should be sharpened. But she didn't feel anything... Maybe she should test her strength and lift something heavy, some of the furniture here. She turned around to check the bathroom, looking for the largest dresser or table. When her eyes grazed the mirror beside her as she scanned the area, she startled and spun around with a jerk.
"Bishop!"
"Princess," he groaned, ripping the hood from his head and flinging his arms around her, squeezing her tighter to his body than he had in a long, long time.
She felt the warmth of his body envelop her and buried her face in his neck, her hands clutching his back. She didn't want to let him go. She wanted to leave this place and stay with him. She couldn't bear to be without him. Not for another second.
His hand dug into the hair at the back of her neck and he pulled her even closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. She felt his heart racing and the pressure of his hand on the small of her back.
"What are you doing here? If Ulfric sees us-" Daya interrupted and broke the intimate embrace.
"I had to see you! You don't look good, princess. You're pale."
"I just had a vomiting attack, but I feel better now." She glanced into his eyes and reached for his hands, holding them gently.
"What did he do to you?!" Bishop almost choked out the words as his eyebrows knitted in concern.
"He didn't harm me," she spoke softly, hoping to reassure him.
"Alec told me- How's your condition? Are you feeling any bett-" He was about to tell her everything he knew about Hern when he was disturbed by the sound of harsh footsteps.
"Dragonborn!" Someone called, and she flinched, spinning instantly towards the doorway.
"Yes, Galmar?" She stared at him, her heart hammering while she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"What's taking you so long, and what is this milkdrinker doing here?" the Nord asked in a low but commanding voice.
"I had to pee and heard her throw up. It's normal to check on a woman then, isn't it?" the ranger replied casually, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You don't say, snowback," Galmar growled, grabbed Daya roughly by the upper arm and dragged her out of the room.
A quick glance from her was meant to comfort Bishop as his body tensed and he turned his face away with a defeated expression. f*ck, he couldn't watch this. He would have liked to shoot an arrow through that primate's throat right then and there. The way this man was acting, he couldn't believe she was alright. If he was already so rough, how did Ulfric have to treat her? Because of Ost, he couldn't help but involuntarily think the worst at that very moment.
"You shouldn't be chatting here!" Galmar groaned at her as he led her down the corridor and back into the theater, making sure she was back at the Jarl's table and sitting down.
Ulfric shot her a quick, probing glance before he returned his attention to the bard and continued to listen to his stories. But he said nothing. She watched him and somehow felt that he was just feigning not to deal with her, the way he sat there in his dark garments and pretended to be a noble. He seemed more tense in his chair now, as if he just couldn't relax against the backrest. Perhaps he was annoyed because of her absence; perhaps, as an experienced warrior, he sensed there was something in the air, as she sometimes did; and perhaps she was completely mistaken about him.
-----
But Alec really dragged out the reading. Two hours later, there was still no end in sight. What was his plan? Was he going to babble on into the night until everyone was drunk enough to fall asleep? If so, he would succeed, for she was already quite tired herself, despite all the nervousness and worry about what would happen next.
All of a sudden, there was a deep rumble, people rose from their seats with a jerk, and Daya turned her head to look over her shoulder as the screams of the crowd tore her out of her thoughts.
"A monster!" a woman nearby screeched hysterically, while Daya only saw cloths and dishes being tossed around as several tables were forcefully knocked over and people began running frantically across the room, each trying to save their own skin as a white beast chased them down the hall. They tripped over each other, over the chairs, tried to duck into the furthest corners, and bolted into the hallway that led to the bathroom, while the creature spent most of its time rampaging near the exit to the stairs.
A frost troll? All she could make out was white fur shifting and advancing at breakneck speed, growling, snarling, and leaping over the furniture or flinging them out of its path.
Without hesitation, she got to her feet, gripped her dress at thigh height, and ripped the fabric apart at the seams. First one leg, then the other. Unfortunately, the freedom of movement she had in it was not enough to fight. At the same moment, Galmar grabbed his chair and charged at the creature, bellowing loudly.
She was about to pounce on the troll when Ulfric's firm hand clutched her arm.
"No, Dragonborn! This is too dangerous!"
"Not your decision!" she murmured, breaking free easily and dashing off.
Gods! That beast was huge. And it was... a werewolf!? Daya's eyes widened as she watched the muscular creature effortlessly lift Galmar including his chair and send him flying in a high arc across the theater. Oh, how she wished she had her weapons now.
With each frantic beat of her heart, more adrenaline coursed through her veins, her body tensed, her fists clenched, her eyes flashing.
"WULD!" she shouted as she took off running, pushing herself off the ground and hurling her body forward at the werewolf with full speed. Just before she crashed into it, she twisted slightly in the air, wrapped her arms around its neck, and pressed the beast against her chest with all her might, causing it to be thrown backwards with her and slam onto the ground.
-
"sh*t! What is she doing?!" Alec hissed to Raven as he crouched beside the stage, pretending to hide fearfully from the monster. "Didn't you give her the note?"
"What note?" the black-haired thief asked, alarmed.
The bard's eyes snapped wide open and he reached into the pocket of his breeches.
"This note." He swallowed, dumbfounded.
-
"f*ck! Why is she attacking?" Bishop groaned as he squatted under one of the tables with Rod.
"Hah!" Her brother started laughing. "She's doing a pretty good job, don't you think?!"
"It's not funny! If she kicks his ass, we'll get busted!"
"At least she's recovered, by the looks of it!" Rod stated with amusem*nt, crawling out from under the surface before saying, "I'll tell her to stop."
-
While everyone was still yelling and scurrying through the hall in panic, Daya was rolling on the floor, struggling with the werewolf. She just couldn't get a grip on the huge beast.
Bishop watched in shock when she suddenly crouched on Cael's chest. How in Oblivion was she able to move so fast? She was always pretty nimble, but this was unreal.
Like mad, she started smashing into his face until his claws seized her shoulders and pushed her back. Daya landed smoothly, almost gently, on her feet and stopped for a moment, wondering how this was possible. He could have thrown her across the hall like Galmar. Probably she owed it to her new powers and was simply more skilled than before.
The werewolf got to his feet and stood in front of her.
"No, don't! I-" Cael tried to speak, but cut himself off as the guttural growl of his voice echoed through the room.
He stared at her, and she looked back in confusion when he tried to reach her through his thoughts, as he had done so many times before when he had communicated with her in Solitude and Bruma.
Sparrow, please hear me. It's me, Cael!
"As if!" she said to herself, responding to his words, but not noticing his attempt to contact her through their connection. She started attacking him with swift kicks from all sides, sending him staggering against the wall.
That was awesome! These new powers were amazing! She could feel this unfamiliar energy rushing through her body. A thrill of unrestrained power, fire, frenzy. She was so good! She could kick the sh*t out of a werewolf. Just like that! Without any weapons!
When the creature slumped down in front of the wall, she grabbed it by the hips and lifted it proudly above her head. Finally, she had her heavy object to test. For a brief moment, she glanced at Ulfric, who was kneeling in a far corner of the hall, attempting to wake Galmar, who was laying unconscious before him. His mouth agape, he stared at her in incredulity until her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile and he could only shake his head in response.
Let's see how far a wolf can fly! She bent her knees slightly to gain momentum.
"Stop!" it hissed amidst all the screaming voices from the crowd in front of her, where everyone was rushing around. She caught sight of her brother laying on the ground a few feet from her. He winked at her, his hand clutching his chest in an exaggerated gesture, then he dragged himself theatrically across the stone floor.
She frowned, needing a moment to understand. He winked again, this time he rolled his eyes afterwards, and finally she saw the light. She should have known that.
She knitted her brows, as if her strength had suddenly left her, and sank to her knees under the weight of the huge creature. At that moment, she couldn't think of anything better than this cheap stunt. Not wanting to hurt the unknown werewolf, she simply let it drop to the floor in front of her and stepped back with a feigned expression of fear on her face.
"I got it," she muttered as the creature tried to get to its knees and glanced at her.
With a horrible growl, it lunged at her, its claws slashing at her incessantly. ... Without even touching her, of course.
So, this was how it was supposed to happen. Alec really could have given her a hint in which direction this would go. She hadn't expected a monster. Rather that the members of the thieves' guild would rope down from the ceiling at some point and simply kidnap her.
At once, the double doors burst open, and one guard after another stormed into the theater.
They had to get out of there. Now.
Cael raged like a whole pack and flung the Jarl's men across the hall. Daya charged at him again, and when he gestured to shove her aside, she threw herself violently against a wall and crumpled to the ground.
"Stay down," Rod said as he crawled past her, faking to flee towards the nearby door.
Daya noticed that Alec, Raven and Bishop were making their way in her direction with the panic-ridden mob, also heading for the exit. It was obviously about to happen. At the same time, the werewolf was rampaging in the back of the theater, in front of the stage, toying with the Stormcloaks some more.
"Protect the Jarl!" Galmar, who had regained his senses, yelled at the guards as more of them swarmed into the hall.
Then everything happened very quickly. Ulfric was led out through the crowd in a hurry, surrounded by his soldiers, who shielded him from all sides and pushed the people away.
"Galmar! The Dragonborn!" the Jarl roared, turning around to look at her.
"I'll save her!" The Nord obeyed his command, waiting only a split second for the Stormcloaks to escort Ulfric safely up the stairs. In a frenzy, people pushed past him, bumped into him, and eventually knocked him over. He hit the ground hard, unable to reach Daya, who was still pretending to lay injured in the corner.
A loud roar echoed through the room. She spotted the creature sprinting towards her, Rod jumped to his feet and made his way up the stairs, and Alec gave her a quick nod before scurrying past her, followed by Raven and Bishop.
Several shoves drove the people who were squeezing through the door apart, a few guards flew into the middle of the room, and Galmar was lifted into the air again before the beast tossed him around a second time.
A large paw grabbed her hip and she landed on the shoulder of the werewolf, who clutched the back of her thigh to fix her and spurted up the stairs with her. At least this way she would have a clear view of what was happening behind them. All around her, people were dodging, leaping aside, or ducking for cover as they crossed the dark throne room.
With the entrance to the palace now unguarded and the doors still open due to the people fleeing, it would be easy for the beast to escape.
Once outside in the courtyard, the creature encountered two Stormcloaks aiming their crossbows at it. Deftly dodging their projectiles, it grabbed a brazier with its free claw and hurled it at them. It struck them with full force. The first was hit by the flames and burning embers, the other was thrown to the ground by the weight. Both men screamed in pain while the werewolf turned away to leave them behind.
"Hold on to me," it growled and lowered itself carefully, getting down on all fours. Frowning, she crawled onto its broad back, gripping its sides with her thighs and letting her hands clasp its shoulders right beside the bulging muscles of its neck. This massive body was even beefier than Farkas'. And whoever this man was, his fur was exceptionally soft.
She had already noticed that this particular werewolf was very fast in comparison, but the way it moved through the snowy and icy streets of Windhelm was incredible. It had always been fun when Farkas had avoided obstacles with a jerk or had doubled back whenever she had ridden him through the woods, but this one was like a bolt of lightning.
Daya focused her eyes on the open gate of the city, the gloomy alleys and dark walls of the houses whizzing past her. Surely Rod and the others had opened it to make sure their way was clear.
She bent forward and clung tightly to its fur when they reached the frozen bridge that led out of town, and the beast slipped for a moment on the icy ground. Quickly it caught itself and returned to full speed to resume its course to the south.
Her eyes swept over the snow-covered mountains and trees in the distance before she took a deep breath of the freezing air that whipped across her face. Why wasn't she cold? She was only wearing that dress made of thin cloth and it didn't even bother her that it was starting to snow. She could sense the temperatures, but her skin should be burning by now, since they had already been outside for a while. Her fingers should be numb, but they weren't. Not even her nose, which was always the first to be affected.
At a certain point, the werewolf made a sharp turn and continued running through a forest, dashing purposefully between trees and bushes until she saw Alec and the others standing at a clearing with several horses, holding torches.
They came to a stop, and Daya hopped off the creature's back, beaming with excitement. She grabbed her dress to lift it up and bolted through the snow towards Bishop. He shoved his torch into Rod's hand and hurried over to meet her. She jumped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him.
"Never do anything like this again. Do you understand?" he whispered in her ear as one of his hands slid up her back, his fingers tangling in her hair. He kept her close to his chest for a while before he pulled back. Ruefully, she glanced up at him, and he pressed his lips gently to hers, kissing her slowly and tenderly, as if he feared to break her. As much as he cherished the feeling of having her back, he couldn't help himself and began to pluck the pins out of her hair, letting them drop to the ground.
Watching their reunion, Raven smiled contentedly. He met Alec's gaze and nodded in relief at his boss. Then Alec's eyes shifted to Daya, but he quickly averted them with a frown. It was all a bit much at this point. The operation had been very delicate and had involved much more turmoil than he had planned. It could have ended in disaster. Bryn had been right, he had to focus more on what he was doing. The mistake with the note hadn't been supposed to happen. And even now, when he should be worrying about getting them all far away and to safety, his head was only flooded with the desire to kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
Cael stepped up to him and placed a paw on Alec's shoulder, to which he merely responded with a slight shake of his head and took a deep breath.
Daya released herself from Bishop's embrace and he gently set her down. Together they walked to the others and she wrapped her arms around Alec, who promptly returned the embrace by holding her tightly against him. With a strained moan, he nestled his cheek against hers, his thumb and forefinger grasping her chin to tilt her head up.
"I've been sick with worry," he whispered, his nose brushing hers.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but I had to." She withdrew and looked into his troubled face.
"You gave us a hell of a scare, sis." Rod put his hand on her back before she turned to him and hugged him as well.
"Now, there's one thing I need to know before I have some important things to discuss with you." Daya strode over to the white werewolf. Standing next to him, she couldn't help but reach out and scratch his belly for a moment. "Damn, you're so incredibly soft, so fluffy... Who are you?"
"You're the only one who is given the privilege to do this. Even Rod is only allowed to touch me briefly." The creature smiled.
"Cael?" She grinned broadly and he nodded.
So she hadn't been wrong when she had noticed his yellow eyes during Moonfire. Smiling, she hugged him, curling her arms around his stomach.
"Why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have attacked you if I'd known it was you." She chuckled, despite her guilty conscience for making him her test subject.
"This voice is just too loud," the chief replied. "The whole room would have heard what I was saying and we would all have been exposed."
"Maybe not the whole room, but Galmar for sure," she said, moving away from him to position herself in front of everyone. Then her tone turned serious. "I hate to say this, but we have to go back to Windhelm and wait outside the city gates. Ulfric is going to attack your villages because I left. He has sent two armies. They're already there. One for each village. I expect him to send one or more couriers immediately with a message telling them to attack. We must stop them and warn and evacuate your people." While she spoke, Bishop slipped his arm around her neck and continued to fiddle with her hair, removing the last of her pins.
"What? How do you know?" Rod asked, startled.
"Ulfric warned me this would happen. This is what I'd get if I left without his permission." She sighed and lowered her eyes. Bishop ran his hands through her hair, tousling it a bit, then draped it over her shoulder. She gave him a quick but confused look.
"Don't worry, we can handle this," Cael growled, patting her on the back and frowning at the ranger's behavior.
"We have to start a war against him," she mumbled, raising her head to glance uncertainly at five questioning and perplexed faces.
"Who is 'we'!? Do 'we' suddenly have an army in our backpacks that I don't know about?" Alec arched an eyebrow in shock.
"Didn't you say you just wanted to talk to him and that this wasn't going to end in war?" Bishop crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Yes. I actually said that. And meant it. And I didn't mention anything about a war to Ulfric, but..." she stammered. "I'll tell you everything he said to me, but first let's hurry back to the bridge. Or hide nearby so we can see if anyone leaves the city. Quickly!"
