"So what's your heart's desire? What kind of deal can we strike?" Uttered the statue. Staid warily glanced up at the ancient shape of Clavicus Vile. Even if Barbas – Vile's own mutt – hadn't warned him again and again and again how stupid bartering with the Prince of Desire was he wouldn't have trusted a single word out of the daedra's figurative mouth.

Honestly, how could anyone be so desperate as to strike a deal with someone literally named Vile? Throw in all the stories he'd heard in his time on the streets and he knew everything he needed to. Clavicus Vile had always been a favorite of the older urchins. He was the one they looked to first to scare the smaller boys. When he'd first heard of the Prince he'd been entranced – who wouldn't be when you learned that there was something out there capable of making your every wish a reality?

Back in those days he'd thought it could be a way to get his parents back.

Then the older boys told him how Clavicus Vile preyed on little kids like him. He'd listen to Staid's weeping with a sympathetic ear, a kind pat on the back, and take his price with a merry grin. It would be steep but fair, they'd said.

And then you'd realize the price wasn't the real reward for Vile. What he fed upon in the dark waters of Oblivion was nothing more than the misery of mortals. If Staid wanted his parents back then he'd get them…in a sense.

Maybe Vile would bring him their rotten, festering corpses from wherever they lay. Maybe he'd raise them with a cackle and have them devour Staid whole. Maybe he'd just kill the frightened boy so he could see his mother and father again.

Vile loved nothing more than twisting a mortal's greatest dream into the most terrible nightmare.

So he hoped he could be forgiven when he took the Prince's offer with a whole damned mine of salt.

Barbas nudged his gloved hand with a cold wet nose. His big eyes pleaded with Staid to ignore the whispers of his Lord. Staid grinned down at the daedric mutt behind his mask and scratched behind his ears the way he knew Barbas liked it – it was hard to remember Barbas was an alien creature older than time itself at times.

"Come on mortal!" Vile whined. "I don't have all day! You've done me a great service killing those pesky vampires. Name your price. Everyone has one."

Staid struggled not to point out that yes, Clavicus Vile did have all day. He didn't think that would endear him to the Prince all that much. And no matter how much he wanted to spit in the bastard's face and walk away just to spite him Staid wouldn't. Not yet.

He wouldn't deal with Vile but what was the harm in seeing what the Prince could do for him? With the dragons about he could use any pointers he could get.

"Power's always nice," he said airily. It was too bad Lydia wasn't here to see this…the face she'd make watching this would worth its weight in gold. Gods, just being in the same room as a Prince of Oblivion would probably have her quaking in her very expensive boots.

Vile seemed less than impressed. Barbas whined and licked his hand. "Really? Power?" Staid blinked. The Prince seemed disappointed if anything. Bored. "You're Dragonborn!" Vile stressed that as if Staid was particularly simple. "You already have more power than most who aren't immense fire-breathing monsters!"

Staid just folded his arms as the statue fell silent. To be honest he wasn't too impressed so far. Wasn't Clavicus Vile supposed to be some sort of monster? Right now he just seemed more like a spoiled brat who thought a little too highly of himself. Too bad not too many entities could bully a Prince – sounded like Vile could use a bit of "character building".

"I hate to say it but you're almost as powerful as I am right now," Clavicus Vile admitted. Staid tried not to preen too much – that was an ego booster if he'd ever heard one. On the level of a Prince (albeit one so shattered he was trapped in a frozen cave)? That was one for the books. "As half of my power resides in that mutt Barbas!"

The Dragonborn couldn't help but to look down at his canine/daedric companion. Barbas just shrugged his furry shoulders and whined as his tail tucked between his legs. They'd be having a discussion about that later.

Staid just raised an eyebrow. Now was the time Barbas decided to shut up? The damn dog had practically driven him mad on the way back to this place. Between the barking and the yipping and never knowing when to stop talking Staid had been tempted to just throw the mutt off one of the mountains he'd trekked up.

Vile interrupted his darker thoughts. "Come to think of it, I know of a win-win solution for the both of us."

"What's your offer?" He drawled. Staid didn't trust Vile as far as he could throw that giant statue of his. Better to hear the lying bastard out though – he had enough on his plate already with the dragons and Stormcloaks. Those two didn't need the competition Vile offered. Had to give them a sporting chance after all.

"There's an axe, an impossibly powerful axe. An axe powerful enough for me to have quite a bit of fun indeed," Vile practically grinned from his statue. Staid just watched while little arcs of lightning jumped between his fingers. The glamour of speaking with one of the Sixteen had passed long ago. Couldn't Vile speed this up? "If you bring it to me I'll grant you my boon. No strings attached, no messy surprises! Least not for you."

Staid snorted. As if he'd believe that. Vile just ignored him. "As I recall it's resting in Brinerot Burrow. Barbas," the mutt whined again at Vile's attention, "can lead you right to it. Little mutt might even earn his place back at my side. "

His first thought was to tell Vile to go straight to Oblivion. Staid didn't want any part in helping him regain his strength.

Barbas nosed his hand again. Staid sighed. He had made a promise…

"Fine," he snarled. Staid hefted his staff up and strapped it to his back. They had a long trip in front of them. Where even was this place? "If I stumble across it I'll be sure to snag that axe for you."

"Much appreciated," Vile snickered. Staid got the sense that he was waving them off. "Hurry back, will you? I can't wait to be free of this boring old cave."

Staid didn't dignify that with a response.

XX

"So it's by Solitude?" He mused. Barbas' head moved up and down, his tail wagging all the while. It almost made Staid forget how damned annoyed he was at the mutt. "That's quite the trip. I don't know when I'll be able to swing by that way."

"Ah it's fine!" Barbas barked. He took off after some fat squirrels that quickly scurried up the bark of Falkreath's thick trees. "A vacation isn't so bad. Clavicus can be hard to deal with!"

Staid snorted. "I can see that," he rolled his eyes. He'd go absolutely mad if he had to deal with the annoying Prince day in and day out. Maybe that explained why Barbas couldn't shut up – this was probably the first time he'd ever gotten a word in edgewise. "So you're good with us taking the scenic route?"

Barbas trotted back emptyhanded. "Of course!"

He nodded. At least he wouldn't have to put up with Barbas bugging him about it. "Just keep quiet around other people, will you?" Staid scratched Barbas' ears for the hundredth time. It was one of the only things that kept the daedric mutt quiet. "I don't need that kind of attention."

"Will do!"

That was easier than expected. Staid couldn't help but be a little worried – somehow he got the feeling that something very, very bad was coming up. Funny how that worked.

On the bright side he got a dog out of this. He'd always wanted one even if the dog he'd always imagined hadn't talked nearly as much as Barbas.

It was nice to have some company for the road though. He'd sent Lydia on ahead to Riverwood after their conversation with Jarl Siddgeir (who was just as slimy as Staid had expected). Tempting as it was to go on the Jarl's job immediately and clear out some bandits he figured he could let that wait. They didn't have time to go traipsing around the wilderness no matter how appealing owning property in Falkreath was.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. It hung in the air for a moment before an errant gust of wind blew the frosty breath away.

He'd like to own land. To have a home to come back to. To have a place all his own. Breezehome was nice but it was too…busy. Staid loved the people of Whiterun but after the years he'd spent running with urchins in Bruma he had no desire to spend the rest of his life in the city.

Building (or paying other people to build) a quiet home out in the countryside sounded a bit better. It would almost be like returning to his parents' homestead down near Bruma.

That just brought an ugly grimace to his face, though thankfully Barbas didn't notice. He'd rather just forget about his parents. It'd been a long, long time since he'd thought about them – hard to be sad when you were clawing for life. It was a lot easier to just be angry.

But he didn't need to be angry any more. He had too much to think about. Magic, Blades, dragons, and war…it was all a bit more immediate for the fourteen year old. Plus a fair bit more interesting too.

And, barring a –

Something within him reared its ugly head as an arrow struck one of the black trees to his right. Barbas yelped and scurried away, tail between his legs as he bounded into the woods. At least Staid knew now to never rely on the mutt.

Wait, why did Barbas even run away? He literally couldn't die. Hard to kill something that would just reform in the waters of Oblivion.

"That'un was just a warning shot you bloody milk-drinker!" Cried his attacker. Staid wasn't impressed by the dirty man who wielded something that a more generous person might call a bow. To Staid it was more like a crude slingshot. He was more concerned with the two scrawny, scowling men that crept out of the woods behind him.

Would it have been too much to ask of Barbas to warn him about ambushes like this? He was pretty sure a real, dumb dog would've picked up on that.

That didn't say too much for Barbas.

"Your money or your life."

He just snorted at the threat. The two men just a few steps away paused and glanced to one another. They must not have expected him to be so flippant. To their eyes he must've been just some stupid kid all out on his own, no heavily armored Lydia in sight.

"Just back off. You don't want to fight me," he warned. A poorly aimed arrow that nearly took one of the other bandit's eyes out was the "archer's" answer. Amidst the other man's frenzied curses Staid sighed.

That short distraction was all he needed. He tensed, reached for the handle of his black dagger with a simple, "WULD!" and blurred forward fast than any of the bandits could blink.

Sahloknir and Mirmulnir's spirits roared within him as he appeared just past the dumb archer. The man was so surprised he actually dropped his flimsy wooden bow.

What an idiot.

"Tell your boys to back off," Staid's heart hammered beneath his robes as he pressed the icy tip of his dagger into the exposed back of the archer. The man froze. Mirmulnir and Sahloknir whispered for him to pierce his flesh and slaughter the other men who were so arrogant so as to challenge one of the Dov. "Nobody needs to die today."

"You 'eard 'im!" His hostage squeaked. The other two men traded unsure glances. They took a step forward and Staid sighed. Flames leapt from his fingertips and greedily devoured the dropped bow – in mere seconds it was little more than a blackened husk.

Staid was pretty sure the ruined weapon was actually more dangerous like this. At least in the archer's hands.

"I'm going to walk away. You three aren't going to do a thing about it," he muttered to the bandit. The skin where his dagger was pressed had frozen hard and black. Staid pulled it back just a tad. "If I ever see you again, my friend," Staid's wolfish familiar materialized and snarled helpfully, "is going to eat you. Got it?"

"Got it!"

He pushed the man away. The bandit collapsed on top of his smoldering weapon in a shivering heap. His draconic spirit receded just a tad, satisfied with his submission. This was only the first of many mortals that would fall to their knees before him.

Staid spared the quivering bandits one last glance before he set down the path again. He barely rolled his eyes as Barbas trotted cheerfully out from some nearby bushes none the worse for wear. He looked happier than before if anything – though that might have to do with the fat red squirrel he'd caught in his jaws.

"Let's go, Barbas," Staid muttered. His hands shook. Even after all his practice getting into life-or-death situations he never seemed to escape that. "Riverwood is just a few hours away."

"Sounds good to me!" Chirped the dog. Staid cracked a grin and patted the daedra's head as they wandered down the road. Entertaining as it was to travel with the mutt he honestly couldn't wait to see Lydia again. She might be a stick in the mud but she was his stick in the mud.

Plus Lydia realizing they'd be stuck with Barbas for a while was going to be hilarious.

XX

"Hey there!" Barbas barked as he trotted down the stairs into Delphine's secret room. Staid leisurely strolled behind him. He may or may not have snickered a bit at Delphine's expression. She might be a Blade but she'd never seen something like this.

"A talking dog? Impossible!" The former Blade declared. Staid didn't miss that her hand dropped to the hilt of her well-worn katana. His eyes narrowed. Lydia knew him well enough to tense, ready for action.

Barbas sat on his furry haunches and cocked his head back at Staid, pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "These mortals are so weird, huh? They see talking cats and no one blinks an eye! They meet a talking dog and everyone loses their minds!"

Staid shook his head ruefully as he took his place by Barbas' side. "I don't know," he sighed as his gloved hand ruffled the daedra's fur. "They're just so ignorant. I'd be offended if I were you."

"I am!" Barbas growled. His hackles raised threateningly. "In fact, I think I deserve an apology! What do ya think, Dragonborn?"

He just nodded along sagely. Delphine looked at him as though he were absolutely mad. Then again he had made "friends" of a sort with half a Daedric Prince…

"This is ridiculous," the Blade scoffed. At least her hand had strayed away from her sword. Staid would rather not push her too far. For all Delphine's faults she was absolutely deadly in combat. She might be able to cut him down before he could draw a breath. "We don't have time for this, Dragonborn."

Staid shrugged her annoyance off as she turned her back on him and Barbas and headed over to the table with her map of Skyrim. Lydia graced him with an awkward little smile as he rolled his eyes and stepped into the room proper. At least she was showing some progress! She'd be a social butterfly in a few hundred moons if she kept this up.

"Sorry, Barbas," he whispered as the daedric mutt loyally trotted after him. Barbas' ears perked up at his name. Staid grinned, "We'll get that apology sooner or later!"

"Sounds good to me, boss," Barbas said cheerfully, all faux anger long gone. Staid wasn't sure if Barbas was even capable of holding grudges. He was a tad more easy-going than he'd expected of any daedric entity – more human. Not that he'd ever trust the cheerful dog. He wasn't that naïve.

He leaned heavily on the map table Delphine was glaring at. Staid eyed the rest of the room. It was clear Delphine was prepared to flee. Most of the weapons and equipment that had lined the walls beforehand had vanished into thin air, probably holed up somewhere nice and safe. Only a few small chests filled with papers, scrolls and no small number of septims still remained.

To be honest the room was almost completely barren. Delphine must've barely slept this past week or so. Though he couldn't help but snag the book on the table. "Song of the Dragonborn," Staid read slowly. He still wasn't the best at the skill, though his father had taught him well enough. "Interesting."

"It's not as informative as I'd hoped," Delphine snorted. She ignored Barbas nosing her hand curiously. "Are you ready to take things seriously? Or are you going to keep acting like the child you appear to be?"

Staid sighed and straightened up. He supposed he shouldn't be so casual. With what hints of Delphine's plan he'd pieced together there wasn't room for error. One mistake would have him executed by the Thalmor.

"Alright. What's the plan?" Staid asked plainly. Lydia subtly shifted to a place beside him. It put her in the best place to protect him, though he hardly thought that was necessary right now. He didn't like Delphine by any means, but that hardly meant she was a threat to them. They had a common goal…for now. "You said something about investigating the Thalmor?"

"Yes," Delphine sneered at the mention of the Thalmor. He could hardly blame her considering what she'd told him of the Blades' history with the bastard elves. "My sources have informed me of a party being thrown by the Thalmor ambassador to Skyrim, Elenwen," her eyes were hard as steel, "and that's when they'll be at their most vulnerable."

Lydia frowned. "Infiltration?" It was clear the thought didn't sit well with the Nord. Delphine nodded and his Housecarl continued, "Very well. But who will be responsible for the sabotage? And what will be the aim?"

He looked at her with more than a little surprise. Staid wouldn't have expected Lydia to be so accepting.

She didn't miss his curious glance. "What?" Lydia arched a dark eyebrow. Staid just shook his head. No need going down that particular rabbit hole. It was better to leave the sleeping dragon alone for now. He could poke at it later.

"You will," the former Blade pointed at Staid. "Or, rather, the Dragonborn will."

"Absolutely not!" Lydia frowned, shifting to stand in front of him. He blinked. Where'd that come from? "My Thane is not stepping foot in a building crawling with Thalmor Justiciars. He is everything they seek to destroy! They would cut him down in a heartbeat."

Delphine's eyes narrowed. Barbas whined and tried to hide behind Staid's legs. "Then who would you suggest, Lydia?"

"You!" His Housecarl growled. Staid couldn't help but smile a bit. Who knew Lydia would be so protective?

Wait, that was a bit stupid. It was literally her life's goal to keep him safe. Still, it didn't usually show itself so plainly. Staid had to admit it was kind of nice having someone else worry about him for once. For a long time now he'd been on his own…

He was torn from his thoughts when Delphine practically deflated. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed, "Believe me, I wish I could. But the Thalmor know me. Thirty years is the blink of an eye to them. Elenwen knows my face and she knows how I work. I can't do it."

Lydia backed off, properly appeased. "Neither my Thane nor myself possess any experience. His age –"

"Might be useful," Delphine cut her off. It looked like she'd escaped whatever dark place her mind had shifted to. Staid wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Her hard eyes fell upon Staid. He stared right back – it had been a mere few days since he'd spoken with a Daedric Lord. Delphine the Blade couldn't compare. "It would be difficult to pass you off as a genuine guest. You're too young. But perhaps…"

"Perhaps what?" Staid arched an eyebrow. Where was Delphine going with this? Her plan would need to be ironclad for it to withstand Lydia's criticism. Anything less would be ripped apart and discarded by his lovely Housecarl.

Delphine tapped her fingers against the weathered wood of the table as she gazed at him thoughtfully. "You have powerful enemies, Dragonborn. But you have powerful allies as well. I have it on good authority that Jarl Balgruuf is a common sight at these parties. He's eager to ensure Whiterun remains the center of trade in Skyrim. If he could be convinced -"

"Then I could appear at the party with him. As his ward, perhaps?" Staid rubbed the wisps of hair on his chin thoughtfully. An interesting thought. Balgruuf certainly owed him quite a bit. Besides, he doubted the Jarl of Whiterun would be averse to sliding a knife into the ribs of the Thalmor. He was no friend of the Dominion.

"Exactly!" Delphine agreed. Lydia frowned, but didn't speak up.

Staid hummed. Barbas laid down by his feet and huffed, uninterested in the mortal's little plots. He idly rubbed the daedra's furry back with his boot. "I think it's worth a shot. We were planning on returning to Whiterun for a time anyways. I'll speak with Jarl Balgruuf and see if he'd be willing to aid us."

"Send me word when you have Balgruuf's response," Delphine instructed. Her lips quirked into a smirk. "Ask Farengar for help. He'll know how to reach me."

The Dragonborn rolled his eyes. Always with the cloak and dagger theatrics. Was the whole organization like this before they'd been wiped out, or was it unique to Delphine after decades of hiding? He'd have gone mad if they were all so dramatic. "When is this party? It's not an easy trek to Solitude."

Delphine nodded. "It should be held in roughly a month. Be in Solitude in three weeks time to be safe. That's when I'll arrive."

Lydia shifted to move beside Staid. He glanced at her with a wry grin. He always felt safer with Lydia at his back, like he had just put on a suit of armor. "I assume there's more to your plan, Delphine?"

The Blade spared the Housecarl a short stare before agreeing. "Of course. We should discuss the basics before you depart for the night…"

And with that, Staid wished he could join Barbas down on the floor. He could tell it would be a long night of planning. Why couldn't it be as simple as Shouting down the doors and massacring all of the guards? That was what most of his other problems boiled down to.

Oh well. He supposed it didn't matter anymore. It was time to make yet another powerful enemy in Skyrim…

When had life gotten so complicated?

XX

Whiterun was a welcome sight after traveling for so long. Staid grinned at the sight of Adrianne working her forge. She spared him a brief glance and a wave before she turned back to sharpening a long, plain blade on her whetstone. Sparks flew, though the smith didn't seem bothered. Several of her assistants bustled around the forge, carrying stacks of wood and coal and leather here and there. They all seemed exhausted, as if they hadn't slept in several nights. Soot blackened their faces and he could scarcely tell whether they were man or mer.

Not surprising, Staid supposed. He recalled Adrianne bemoaning a contract that she and Ulfberth had signed with the Battle-Born clan. Something about supplying the Imperial soldiers? It didn't really matter. He preferred to stay far, far away from affairs like this. No point in being roped into the civil war more than he already was. Staid did not want an active role. He'd stick to playing Whiterun's noble, valorous defender.

Speaking of soldiers…

"Lydia?" Staid said slowly, coming to a stop. His loyal shield matched him and cocked her head. Barbas ran into her steel-clad leg and whined in something suspiciously like a mortal's voice before he sheepishly cut it off at Staid's hard glare.

"Yes, my Thane?"

"Since when is Whiterun filled to the brim with legionnaires?" He asked as nearly a dozen boisterous soldiers poured out of the guard barracks near the city's walls. Most paid him no heed, but a few attentive soldiers seemed to recognize him and waved. Staid waved back but was more troubled than anything. They seemed well-behaved enough, but he couldn't fight the sense of unease that weighed on him.

He didn't like seeing real soldiers here. Something about the legionnaires set him on edge, despite relying on them quite heavily in the past. When he'd been a starving wanderer struggling to get by, he'd oftentimes survived by traveling with legionnaires and resting with them in their camps. They'd taught him to fight, to survive, and he'd gleaned a few scraps of valuable magic from a bored battlemage.

But here, in this city…well, it made Staid grit his teeth. It reminded him of the war, of the thousands of Stormcloaks laying siege to Whiterun with catapults and hardened warriors.

When would this pointless war end? Didn't these proud lords realize there were giant, fire-breathing monsters rampaging throughout their Holds? Someone needed to teach these Nords about priorities…

"Since an army of Stormcloaks nearly triumphed over Whiterun's defenders," Lydia replied drily. Staid blinked. He'd been utterly lost in thought. "I could speak with my old friends in the guard, if you'd like. They would have been informed."

He shrugged it off. Staid figured he could just ask Balgruuf when they spoke later. It was only noon and he hoped to get quite a bit done today. His meeting with Balgruuf was of the essence, but might need to wait until a later hour. No doubt the Jarl was busy dealing with the petty nobles of Whiterun or hearing the grievances of his people.

Besides, this was an errand best left for when they could speak alone. Delphine had impressed on him (again and again and again) that the Thalmor's spies were everywhere. He wouldn't risk putting that to the test. She should be proud that some of her paranoia had worn off on him.

"So what are our plans?" He asked Lydia. She blinked at the abrupt question, but didn't question him. She was great like that.

"Seek an audience with Jarl Balgruuf, divest certain valuables at Belethor's shop, restock on potions, and visit Farengar for help with your magic," Lydia recited, finishing with audible distaste. Staid chuckled at her enthusiasm.

He grinned. "You're forgetting one thing…"

Lydia frowned and narrowed her eyes. "What is that, my Thane?"

"Me!" A tiny figure announced her presence by slamming into Staid's legs with the force of an arrow. He stumbled a bit, but laughed at Lucia's enthusiasm. "It's so good to see you again! Where'd you go? Who'd you meet? Did you do anything fun? Tell me everything!"

His lovely Housecarl rolled her eyes and allowed her hand to fall from the hilt of her newly acquired sword. Staid ignored the gathered crowd (dozens had slowed to pay attention to the proceedings, having recognized Staid from his frequent visits) and gave Lucia all his attention.

"We didn't do anything too fun…" he shrugged, a smirk on his face. Lucia pouted and he finally relented. "Fine. All we did was see the Greybeards, fight some vampires, and meet the Jarl of Falkreth. Nothing too interesting," he promised. It was hard not to crack into laughter at Lucia's gasp, but he just barely held his ground. Then Staid caught sight of Barbas as the daedric mutt sniffed a large pile of ash from the forge and sneezed. "Oh, and we found a dog. His name is Barbas."

Lucia immediately forgot the majority of what he said. She squealed and hugged the grimy, smelly dog without a care in the world. "A dog!" Barbas blinked, then seemed to shrug his shoulders and allowed the girl to latch onto him. "I love him."

"I thought you'd like him," Staid laughed. He made sure Lucia didn't see his glare. If Barbas said one word to Lucia he'd get to be his fire atronach's new test subject. Staid really wanted to know how accurate she was with those fireballs. "How about you take Barbas to Breezehome?"

"But you just got back!" Lucia protested. She wheeled around and looked up at him with big puppy eyes (did she steal those from Barbas, he wondered) and Staid had to fight hard not to give in and beg for her forgiveness. Thankfully, he'd gotten a little used to the effect by now.

Staid shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lucia. Lydia and I have some errands to run - errands you can't come with us on," he predicted Lucia's protest. She frowned and wrung her hands together. His expression softened. "We'll be back before nightfall. I promise. Then we can spend all night telling you about our adventures, alright?"

Lucia sighed and stood from where she'd been rubbing Barbas' belly. The daedra laid there, unmoving, as though he'd fallen asleep. "Okay…"

Guilt twisted his gut. He hated saying no to Lucia. "I have some presents for you when we get back," he offered, and relished the way Lucia's whole demeanor lit up. "Does that sound like a good deal?"

"Yes!" She cheered, and barely paid attention to him or Lydia as she coaxed Barbas away. Breezehome was some distance away, separated from Warmaiden's by rows and rows of small shops hosting leatherworkers, carpenters, peddlers, and other craftsman that made the Plains District their home. Staid watched her scamper away wistfully.

Lydia chuckled behind him. The sound was so foreign it made Staid start. "She has you wrapped around her little finger, my Thane."

"She really does," he sighed forlornly as Lucia and Barbas disappeared into the endless crowds of peasants, shoppers, and soldiers winding their way through Whiterun. For a moment he wondered if it was a good idea to leave Barbas alone with Lucia, but dismissed it. Barbas wasn't a threat. Not directly, at any rate. He'd probably just soak up the attention Lucia would give him. Staid suspected the lazy daedric mutt would love to be doted on. "Do you think she cast a spell over me?"

"Perhaps," the tall woman shrugged noncommittally. She offered nothing else.

He rolled his eyes. Lydia was always so helpful. "Well, let's get this over with. We have a lot to do before nightfall. Let's hope we don't get ambushed by a bunch of guards again…"

And with that, they ventured deeper into the heart of the city. This would be a short visit, but Staid hoped for it to be a productive one. He felt it would be a long time before they returned again…

Hey, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter! I've had this chapter sitting half-finished for more than a year now and figured it was about time I get the ball on this story rolling again. Not too much happened in this chapter, but it's a good place to get started again. Expect semi-regular updates (probably every month or two) from here on out. My main priority will be my Pokemon fanfiction "Traveler" but this is a fun side project I enjoy writing. I've recently started playing the Special Edition on the PS4 again and it's given me plenty of inspiration haha.

Please review! I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts and suggestions!