Princess-

A window of opportunity has presented itself, and we will be able to return to Equestria in just over a fortnight if everything goes as planned. Titus Mede II, the current Emperor, will be arriving in Solitude in twelve days for a dinner with the High Queen of Skyrim, we can arrange a meeting between the two of you at that time. That does not mean that you will be speaking to him in Solitude, we actually have to wait until he returns to the Imperial City for any true political negotiations to take place. It would be best if you began preparations as soon as you receive this, even if there is still a chance that the Emperor may refuse, it is better to be ready.

-Reman

PS – Sorry for not writing sooner – Luna.

The parchment disappeared in a puff of dark blue flames, which was amazing to a certain Breton who was all too surprised to see his beloved Destruction magic used for efficient communication. Renoir knew that it wasn't the same as his own magefire, but it was close enough that he wanted to learn the spell that enable such wondrous information transfer.

“How long until we head out?” Princess Luna was somewhat refreshed after sending her sister the letter, being gone from home for so long must have put some worry on her older sibling, so it felt wonderful to bring some relief to her. The dark blue alicorn also knew that leaving for Solitude early wouldn't affect the arrival of the Emperor in any way, but the question seemed necessary.

“As soon as you all want to.” Reman took a sip of the brew his friend had made earlier, the strangely bitter drink was both fragrant and unpleasant, but it did the trick. The Imperial noble didn't really care when the group made their way to Skyrim's capital, only that they made it in time for him to speak to his relatives. “We just need to grab as much gold as we can carry to pay for lodging.” The lycan neglected to add that the coinage would be used to bribe any officials that might wish to imprison the ponies, but the unspoken words were well understood. “Solitude's inn is very nice, but much too expensive for most to rent for extended periods of time.”

“We could always ask my friend for a few rooms at the castle.” Renoir knew that the barracks were only at half capacity, the majority of Solitude's guards were garrisoned at a small stronghold just west of the city's gates. The small police force would make for good company, even if nature made it difficult to tolerate the presence of law-enforcement personnel.

“Right, because they'll open up the Pelagius Wing for us.” Lynette gave her rebuttal in a flat, dismissing voice, she was clearly unimpressed by the vampire's reasoning. The older Breton huffed at the youth's brazen disrespect, but said nothing to the archer in response.

“Just be sure to bring some black roses for her.” Reman knew about his friend's contact, such a scandalous thing, from Jarl Elisif's own court no less. Renoir gave his comrade a light punch in the shoulder, light meant it would only leave a deep bruise, and laughed at the man's joke.

“She's a Destruction mage, not an alchemist.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Rarity, despite being calm during the party's meeting, and only voiced her aye during the vote to relocate to Solitude as soon as all members were packed, the alabaster mare was buzzing with excitement. If Skyrim's capital was anything like Canterlot, fashion would have a huge presence in the city's culture and social standings. If large sums of money were needed to rent a room at the local inn, then everything else would be similarly high-priced, and nothing sold like fine clothing and jewelry. The Element of Generosity was putting the finishing touches on her latest creation while she packed her kit and sparse belongings. “Marvelous, simply marvelous.”

Her little pet project was a wonderful and sinfully luxurious set of robes modeled after a portrait she'd seen in one of Reman's many books on Imperial history. The main suit was a deep crimson, covered by an overcoat of royal purple, a large ruby was sewn into the neckline. The white unicorn had received her inspiration from a woodcut titled The Last Septim, some tribute to a martyr from the Third Era, and she thought the lycan would enjoy the gift. “And to think I almost forgot about the collarbone.” Rarity absentmindedly noted the physiological discrepancy between humans and equines, glad to see her earlier work hadn't been forgotten. Maybe she could use the robes to gain the attention of any designers in Solitude, surely they would be drawn to another master's work.

“We'll see how Radiant Raiments' owner likes this.” The Element smiled as she thought about the shop's name, it couldn't be anything but a boutique.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Twilight was packing her notes away, using her mouth and hooves to avoid magic. It had been hours since the earlier attack, but she wouldn't even risk the use of Equestrian magic until she was safe at home. The lavender mare hadn't told anypony about the incident, the scary tentacle still had a prevalent hold in her memory, a little voice in the back of her head said it wouldn't be good to mention it. Nevertheless, she worked as diligently as she could without arcane assistance, and cleared her workstation in record time. Twilight was about to toss her saddlebags on, until she noticed the two dark soul gems from earlier had somehow rolled into one of the pouches.

The lavender mare wasn't about to put those in her mouth, so she was left only with the option she most feared. It was an easy choice to leave them in her bag, it wasn't like they could do anything without being used to enchant or recharge an item. What was the worst that could happen with the inert gems? Twilight's gut said they were safe enough to transport, and she wasn't about to argue, so why was her stomach turning at the thought of bringing the soul batteries to Equestria?

“It's probably just nerves.” The Element took one more moment to look over the animonculory, it may have been the lest time she would ever see a feat of Dwemer engineering up close.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“We just got here, and now we're going to some place called Loneliness?” Rainbow Dash hadn't packed much, neither had Fluttershy, and the two were sitting in the foyer while the others readied themselves. That was until a few moments ago, when Applejack moseyed into the front room, her trademark stetson obscuring part of her face from view.

“I think it's called Solitude, not Loneliness.” The yellow pony was claustrophobic when in came to cities, the large crowds and unfamiliar territory would only worsen those fears. But she had to admit that meeting the Imperial version of Celestia would be exciting, but Princess Luna might be the only one who would have the pleasure.

“If ya ask me, ain't nothing wrong 'bout stayin' on th' move.” The Element of Honesty was more than accustomed to arduous labor, and marching across the sub-zero terrain of Skyrim's northern coast would just be another exercise for her. Pegasi may have had more insulation against the cold, but earth ponies had the endurance for long hauls, something that only augmented Applejack's natural stamina. “'Sides, we came this far, what's another hundred miles?”

“About three days' travel, give or take a few hours for weather.” Lynette was the group's newest member, by her own account, she was a childhood friend of Reman's. Regardless of the truth, the archer seemed to be well at ease around the supernatural men that called those ruins home. The brunette's hair was done in a ponytail, she very likely hadn't meant for the pun, it was just easier to keep the shoulder-length locks from being tangled in shrubs or grabbed by an enemy. “Then the real trouble starts.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” So far, Rainbow Dash and the others had faced subzero temperatures, grueling winds, and a bandit attack, so how could walking into a city be any more challenging? Much to the polychromatic mare's surprise, Lynette looked worried about something, the woman paused for a few seconds before giving her answer.

“You know of the civil war, right?” When the ponies nodded, the Breton immediately understood the problem. Reman, for all the nice aspects of his personality, was a very secretive man, and he could hardly be blamed for it. The archer guessed her ex-fiance had neglected to tell the equines everything they needed to know about the conflict in Skyrim, including the trouble they might find when trying to enter Solitude. “Let's just say that Reman has family in high places, and being seen with colorful ponies might not go over too well with the locals.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Reman was polishing his sword, the Skyforge blade had a few flecks of rust. They weren't caused by weather or poor treatment, most metals had the tendency to corrode when exposed to raw magicka. This meant the Imperial would need to refine his skills once more to keep his armor from rotting off his body. The spellsword huffed in annoyance and tilted a bottle of mead to his lips, only to have it swatted away by his pack-mate.

“I can't drink for eleven months, so you aren't getting another drop of the stuff until I deliver.” Glade had noticed her forebear's addiction, and knew of alcohol's impotence when it came to the fortitude of the lycanthropic system, so Reman's slight alcoholism was purely mental.

“I'm dry for a year?” The lycan wasn't about to say anything that may upset the pregnant mare, there was too much at risk for that. With a sorrowful look, the Imperial threw the Black-Briar Reserve into the furnace. Summer Glade couldn't believe that worked. The man looked his pack-mate up and down, sizing her up for something. Reman huffed before he spoke once more. “I suppose I'll have to find something else to calm my nerves.”

“Ignoring how creepy that was, what's up with the statue?” The lycan mare pointed to a bronze, human-like figure that seemed completely solid. It was very surprising when her forebear rapped his fist against its metal surface, the hollow banging made its use very apparent.

“Dwemer armor, sturdy enough to survive a cave in.” The ancient artifact was one of the few suits of armor that Reman would actually wear the helmet made for it, if only for the amazing facial covering. The eyes of Dwarven helmets didn't restrict vision, which was odd when one considered the fact that they were the same size as the sensory organs they resembled. The bronze metal was incredibly strong, it had to be in order to survive tunnel collapses, and was not affected by raw magicka's deteriorating qualities. There was only one problem with the elven kit, and the Imperial made it very clear. “I'm going to need some help putting this on.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Princess Celestia was reading over her newest piece of correspondence, the only fact that she hadn't anticipated was traveling to Cyrodiil. If anything, Skyrim seemed a more familiar territory, even if she had never actually seen the frozen country. She was half-tempted to reply, but knew it would be dangerous if any outsider were to see the puff of magical flames accompanying the letter. Besides, it would be more interesting to see everypony's reactions when the Solar Princess gave them some attention-grabbing news. Hircine was quite the free talker now that he was able to walk with others once more, and had been more than willing to divulge information over games of chess and the like.

“Has anything changed?” Celestia and Shining Armor were in the castle gardens, near the portal to Nirn, but their focus was on a certain statue. Shortly after sending the Elements and her sister to the alien world, the alicorn had noticed a number of hairline fractures spreading across Discord's stone prison. Almost immediately, the Aspect of Guile took its own interest in the chaos god, though it had given no reason other than to uphold its obligations to Equestria, as per the binding contract.

“No, your majesty, the cracks seem to heal after a few hours, but we don't know why.” Shining Armor had his own theory behind why Discord was only partially destroying his prison, but he was no scientist, and his hunch was likely incorrect. The young captain thought the fluctuating levels of bloodshed and chaotic battles had a direct effect on the abomination's ability to exert his eldritch powers.

“The Dark Waters are churning, Oblivion is waiting to receive its own.” The voice was Guile's, not Hircine's, the two were very different in demeanor and compliance, but neither had been violent. Truthfully, that was the first time the Daedra had spoken with being asked a question, so perhaps the augmented Dremora was being truthful.

“The old Sheogorath's favored son is trying to break free.” Hircine's voice came from the body that time, the Huntsman looked at the gestalt of all Equestria's chaos with disdain. Though he wasn't the Prince of Order, the Ascended Dwemer was a firm believer in the natural order, and the Madgod seemed to always go out of his way to break that all-encompassing flow of life. “Unless the civil war in Skyrim drags on for another year or so, there is nothing to worry about, though.”