Empire

Welcome to Skyrim

Kit stepped down the stairs carefully. Peeking around the corner towards the throne, she spied the Jarl and his Stewart deep in conversation. It was the perfect time to move. Her feet tread lightly on the worn wooden floor, careful to avoid the spots she knew would creak, she had memorized the weak spots in the worn wooden flooring as she had every other nook, cranny and dark corner of the palace. This place held no secrets for her anymore, hadn't for years.

She winced as her foot missed its mark, the floor squeaking under her soft leather boot. Her body went motionless—one heartbeat, two—she didn't dare to turn back to see whether she had been spotted. Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, she continued on, purposely sticking close to the walls. Using the long, moving shadows cast by the fire pit to conceal her presence, she snuck past the dining tables that ran the length of the great hall—nearly there—a silent shadow making its way towards the door of the palace. She risked a glance inside Farengar's study as she slipped past—the mage was out—Good. Her heart thundering in her chest, she reached the last few paces that separated her from freedom.

"Kit, do you honestly think I can't see you girl?" came a commanding voice from behind her. Cringing, she turned to face the Jarl with an innocent smile, giving him a little wave as she shifted on her feet.

"Balgruuf, I-uh..." she stammered, feeling the telltale heat of embarrassment rising in her cheeks.

The Nord interrupted before she could make a further fool of herself, "Yes I know where you were going, and as I've told you repeatedly, the tavern is no place for a girl."

"But I'm not going alone, you know that," wincing at the shrillness in her voice, Kit pressed on, not past using all of the tools at her disposal to get what she wanted.

"Please just for an hour?" Looking at him with wide, pleading eyes and a sweet smile, "Please Balgruuf?" batting her eyelashes for added measure.

The Jarl waved her over without answering, "I need to speak to you lass." Glancing at his Stewart, he gestured dismissively, "That will be all for tonight, Proventus."

The Stewart bowed, the top of his bald head gleaming softly in the light from the fire, "Good night, my Jarl."

Balgruuf nodded and looked at Kit expectantly. She shuffled over to the throne dragging her feet, a knot forming in her stomach. She knew that tone, and it never wrought anything good.

The Jarl leaned back on his throne and gave her a long look, "I have to travel to Solitude soon, and I want you to come with me." Kit's heart beat a little faster, Solitude. She felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, like so many butterflies taking flight. She forced herself to remain calm, aloof, "Solitude... umm, why?"

Balgruuf gazed at her for a long moment, his mouth set in a hard line, "We've had this conversation before, and I believe the time has come for you to take a husband, my girl..." Kit stiffened, her fists subconsciously clenching behind her back, "...you've come of age."

All of the color left her face as the room began to spin. Sensing her discomfort, the Jarl rose, "Do not fret, child, I will find you a good match." Pulling her into his embrace, he held her close and when he spoke again his voice was soft but left no room for debate, "This is the way of things, Kit."

As Kit burrowed into the arms of the man who had raised her, she found herself nodding. There was no arguing, she knew, she had already tried. Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she swallowed a sob and clung to him with all her strength. Hot tears quickly soaking through the thick fabric of his tunic. His large hand rubbed her back trying to appease her, but it only made her feel worse.