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The plot thickens in my Skyrim playthrough. I've done so many quests and they just keep appearing, it's insane. But it is very pleasing to look at a map with quite so many markers.

And it means I have a lot of stories to write. They'll be pretty random, some from before Skyrim time (what I can write for my OC anyway) and some encounters from earlier and later days.

This one is about the battle of Whiterun after I sided with the Empire and had to fight Ulfric's men. 

Xillith/Lydia; T; - Under the Gildergreen tree - 381 words

Long after the battle is over, Xillith slumps onto a bench under the Gildergreen tree and exhales. Everything hurts tremendously, from the burning wounds that Stormcloaks delivered to the lungs that hurt from ash of the burning buildings. By now most fires are out, but the skies are gray still.

At least here under Gildergreen she feels more or less safe and relaxed. Lydia sits beside her and looks up at the Dragonsreach.
 
“I wondered when we would have to stand ground for the city,” she says thoughtfully, turning her dark eyes at Xillith.
 
“Is it strange that I feel like I was protecting my home?” she asks, surprised at the straightforward honesty of her own.
 
“I don’t know. You do spend a lot of time here.”
 
“But this is not… home, not exactly. Home is Lakeview Manor. Home is back with the Black Sparrows, at least, it used to be. It is so strange to feel at home in Whiterun with barely any ties to it.”
 
Lydia only smiles as Xillith keeps talking, and the Dragonborn falls quiet too. It’s not like her to be quite so open, perhaps, the bluntness of the battle made her blunt too.
 
“In other words, when Balgruuf suggested I make Whiterun my home, I was almost halfway pulling out my coin pouch.”
 
Both her and Lydia laugh, moving closer to each other and lacing their fingers together. Lydia’s hands are a little rough, but so are Xillith’s. She rests her head on Lydia’s shoulder and closes her eyes.
 
So many goals set ahead, yet Xillith finds herself caught in a whirlwind of a war she didn’t much care about up until later. Taking up the Imperial oath and committing to the cause was not on her plan, yet she finds herself invested. She wants to help. She feels it is right.
 
Gildergreen tree sways softly in the wind and spreads its sweet blossoms and fragrance in the ashen city. Tomorrow it will bloom brighter and the sun will warm it. And the city will be as it was again. But right now in this moment, wounded and holdings its wounded soldiers, Whiterun truly feels like home, and Xillith consoles it in a way she knows best - by protecting it and by keeping it safe.

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December 2020

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