When Amy woke she was in the Palace of the Kings. Disoriented, she sat up, faintly smelling the distinct cedar wood furniture of the attic she lived in nearly sixteen years ago. Breathing heavily, she sat up, placing her hands on either side of her head and pressed firmly.
The most curious part of being Dragonborn was her memory. In lieu of dreams she found herself slipping into memories whenever she slept. It was exasperating, to say the least. Her life wasn't memorable in the best of ways and the memories were nothing more than an outlet in which to relive pain.
Amy was left dismayed by the memory she had relived in her state of sleep. Vien was… she didn't know what he was to her. Her first friend? Her first love? Sixteen years and she still didn't know. The memory also made her feel uneasy. Being that close to the Thalmor… how could she have been so naïve?
She spun herself around and placed her bare feet on the floor, running a hand through her hair. For some reason she was in Ulfric's temporary room, and was alone. Since there were no windows, she had no concept of time. All she remembered was meeting Leiv, hunting in the forest south of the city, and by noon signing the deed to Hjerim and hearing Jorleif complain about her not using her real name. Everything else was lost on her. Her lack of sleep the night before must have done her in.
She rose from the bed and sat by the fire contently. As she warmed herself, she thought about how fascinating it was that while she was leisurely living among the Thalmor as a servant, Ulfric was being held prisoner in Markarth.
Time was an oddity, that's for sure.
The door cracked open and she ducked her head, unaware of whether or not she was even allowed in Ulfric's room. She peeked around the corner of the bed and let out a sigh of relief as her fiancé entered the room and closed the door, his eyes scanning the room.
"Amy?" He called out quietly.
"I'm here." She raised her hand and she heard his foot falls near.
Once next to her, he joined her by the fire, "are you alright?"
"Yeah…" she trailed off, "I… I just woke up. I didn't sleep well last night."
"I figured." He muttered and rubbed his large hands together. She watched him as he observed them in a nearly critical way.
Amy wordlessly reveled in the satisfaction his being there. All thoughts of her past flew out of the window when he was near. It was relieving.
"You're awfully quiet." He commented, using his arm for support as he leaned back.
She chuckled, "Sometimes I am, believe it or not."
"What's on your mind?" He countered her deflection.
She hesitated, "I sometimes don't have dreams when I sleep. I relive memories. Today was one of those days. I - well – it was just an unpleasant memory."
"I'm sorry." He offered gently and brought his hand up to rest at the base of her neck. His touch made a cold chill move from the base of her spine to the tips of her fingers. She liked it.
"It's alright… What were you up to?"
"Exhilarating briefings to my commanders." He replied sarcastically, "trying to convince them that your idea isn't some sort of Skooma-inspired nonsense."
