“That was... odd.” Lynette's observations were as astute as ever, the Breton maiden was spot on in her statement. The Windpeak Inn incident was far behind them now, but the news of Glade's pregnancy was still fresh in most of the ponies' minds, and they were positive of the unborn foal’s heritage. That being said, none of them brought it up, much to Reman's relief. The party was on the road to Solitude once more, and it would be another sixteen hours until they reached the main gates.

“Quite.” Renoir agreed with his kinswoman, but he wasn't really paying attention. Actually, he was doing his very best to tune everything out, but his heightened senses were making the task more difficult than anything had the right to be. A certain pink pony wasn't helping, either.

“What are you having? Do have any name ideas? Can I be the godmother? Can I babysit?” Pinkie had been bugging Glade since she woke, and barring an unexpected ambush, there was little chance of her stopping. The former guardspony payed her no mind, it was just the Element's way of showing happiness. The lycan pony kept her eyes forward and answered every question that came as simply as possible, anything that may help bring the stream of words to an end.

“Come on, Pinks, let her be.” Rainbow Dash was sympathetic for her fellow pegasus, even if it was for the wrong reason. The Element of Loyalty figured the ex-guard was going to need all the rest she could get for the task ahead, even if she had help, raising a foal would be harder than anything Glade had done before, including fighting a god.

“Sorry, guess I got a little carried away.” Pinkie scratched behind her head, though how she was able to have a leg up and still walk the same was a mystery. The other ponies were just happy to get some quiet, the added silence was sure to make the party much safer.

“Not a problem.” Glade kept her eyes on Reman, trying to find any indicator of worry or fear in his stride. The Imperial had been oddly silent the previous night, he hadn't even tried to sneak any alcohol before bedding down. The lycan slowed to a stop and held up a fist, the signal to stop walking and keep quiet. He and Renoir seemed to scan the area for a few seconds, before they deemed it safe to start again. That had been the third time in the past two hours they had done this, it was almost certain that someone was following them, and impossible to know the pursuer's will.

A startled yelp from Lynette caught the groups off guard, and the defending party members immediately readied their response. The ponies were scared, Fluttershy very nearly had a heart attack, but nothing prepared them for this moment.

“Got a letter for you, your hands only.”

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

Uriel Tullius had finished his duties for the day, and efficiency that had propelled him through the Legion's ranks. The Imperial negotiator sat on one of Solitude's many benches, and occasionally scratched at the scar on his cheek. He had received the wound in a duel a little over two years ago, some lout thought he could best a Legionnaire in single combat. At least he got in one good hit before he died, such was life, just try and make your mark on the world and your enemies. That was a struggle the Imperial knew all too well.

Identical twins weren't very common to Cyrodiil's natives, and the elder was considered superior to the latecomer. Uriel learned how to hold a sword at the age of five, right when Reman discovered an affinity for magicka manipulation, the beginnings of a mage. The younger brother shot a bull's-eye with a bow, the elder would incinerate the target. Reman had been better at everything, other noble families took notice of the first twin, and only rarely acknowledged Uriel for his hard work. Their older brother, Julius, even picked on the elder twin less, and the runt was made the target of almost everything.

But, things more than turned around during adolescence. Uriel's hard work made him strong; he would work the fields and mine alongside the servants, something his more posh siblings would have deemed dirty. The Imperial was just as strong as any Nord or Orc, and it wasn't by benefit of race or misfortune in upbringing. If the twins dueled, the younger would easily beat Reman in melee. A smile spread over the brooding man's features as he thought about seeing his brother again. As much as Uriel was angry with the prodigy that was his doppelganger, it would still be wonderful to have him back.

Chuckling, the man stood and began his way back to Castle Dour, it was almost time to start getting ready for the reunion.

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

Antonius was spending his off time in Solitude's grand temple, praying for all who had family in the war, Imperial and Stormcloak alike. There was a sort of unspoken respect between the officers of both sides, but that kindness didn't extend to the battlefield, the reality of war didn't change just because one's enemy nodded his head to acknowledge one's own skill. The legate came from a long line of service, his own father held the same rank as he when the man was growing up, and it warmed his heart to know that there was still honor to be had in such dark times. The greying Imperial's thoughts turned to his own family, as they often did during his pondering. Antonius' wife and daughters were safe and sound in Cyrodiil, and likely in the same position as he found himself in. The women of the Tullius family had yet to be notified of Reman's survival, it was meant to be a surprise during his next visit, and it would surely help bring Senna out of her sadness. Antonius' wife never really recovered, she had lost two of her children with a month of each other, and the man felt for her continued grief.

The chapel bell tolled, it was around suppertime, and them greying man had spent most of his day indoors. The legate's joint popped as he stood, his body was happy for the strain, it served a reminder of his advancing age. Antonius briefly wondered when one of his sons would make him a grandfather, he certainly wasn't getting any younger.

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

Reman looked at the envelope, it was the standard one found in Tamriel, nothing at all unusual about it. The wax seal, however, was a point of great interest. A crimson dragon pressed into the shape of the Imperial Diamond adorned the letter's lips, marking it as official correspondence from General Tullius or the Emperor himself. The lycan wasn't sure which of those two worried him more.

“Go ahead and put him down.” With his friend's word, Renoir dropped the courier. It went without saying that the man ran as soon as he touched the ground, and he covered the distance to the next ridge faster than any biped had the right to. Security wasn't an issue, no one would believe some frightened man's tale of magical horses and the highest Imperial officer in Skyrim. As soon as the package carrier was out of sight, Reman broke the seal and examined the letter in its entirety.

“Anything good?” Glade didn't know who had sent the envelope, but she understood that it was important, she'd seen enough of the princess' letters to recognize royal correspondence. Much to her surprise, the Imperial regarded the written message as though it was a poorly-written novel. Though the pegasus recognized the red dragon from numerous places, Rose had shown her war banners and such during her visits, she was unable to discern why only a few of them had a black dragon within a red diamond. Upon seeing the same crest in the letter's signature, the lycan mare's confusion was only compounded, and she was left wondering.

“The illustrious General Tullius has a surprise for us up ahead.” Reman didn't know why his grandfather had done so, but the old man had seen fit to give the runaway more luxury than he was accustomed to. There would be an armed escort waiting by the rode to the Pale's war camp, not an invasion force, but the standard size for a noble's bodyguard. Twelve men would be accompanying the party, and as they trudged over the final hill, the armored bodies contrasted with the snowy ground enough to see them from the considerable distance that separated the two groups.

Fluttershy looked at what appeared to be a small army with no small amount of fear, even if she was used to seeing guards, soldiers in war were an entirely different story. The Element of Kindness ducked behind the cloaked Breton for cover, though she wasn't shaking or trembling, so that was an improvement. The diplomatic party continued their march, and only slowed when reaching conversational distance with their newest bodyguards.

“Captain!” One of the Nords saluted Reman, clearly mistaking him for Uriel. Renoir and the ponies gave the Imperial and odd look, while Lynette helped herself to a laugh. Political intrigue was something she had grown up with, being a noble's daughter and living so close to the Tullius family, it was only natural that she developed a taste for such things. Regardless of how any of his party-mates felt about the situation, the lycan held up a hand.

“You're thinking of my brother.” Between the two siblings was much more than a familial resemblance, up until late adolescence there was very little to distinguish the two of them. Luckily, the younger twin had been bulking up before Reman had been afflicted with lycanthropy, so there shouldn't have been any difficulty telling them apart. Shouldn't being the operative word.

“Captain Tullius has a brother?” It was at that moment one could have heard the buzzing of a bee's wings in the distance, even the wind had quieted to make way for a pregnant pause. The lycan could feel his comrades' eyes on him as the words sank in, it wasn't a challenge for anyone to put the pieces together and learn the second-biggest secret the man had ever kept.

“Well, 'e only looks jus' like 'im” An Imperial with more than a few missing teeth stepped out of the group, he was an obvious local and walked with the same gait many of the natives shared. “Not a bit o' resemblance.” The sarcastic negotiator turned on his heels and faced his kinsman, a hand extended in greeting. “Name's Macabee, nice t' meet'cha.”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” Reman shook the man's hand and vomited inside his mouth a bit, it was unlikely the enlisted man had ever seen a proper bath. “Now, I believe we have a schedule to keep.” The man with missing teeth perked up as he realized his own lack of motivation, he turned to the others in his guard squad and got the on track.

“You 'eard the man, jump to!”

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

Marcus Tullius and Titus Mede II sat in Castle Dour's private lounge, both with very different reasons. The Emperor was unable to walk around the city, it would cause too much commotion and blow his cover, but he was more than content to laze about the lavish room. The Imperial general, however, was indoors awaiting the arrival of his grandson and the mysterious envoy. He may have been getting on in years, but the aged warrior still knew when the boy had something to hide, so there was something about the Equestrians he had with him that was troubling. The clues did nothing to narrow the possibilities, there were simply too many unknowns involved.

“So, General, who is it young Reman would like me to meet?” Titus had heard the story, but it had yet to sink in, the parts involving magical horses were the only ones he had difficulty comprehending. Which meant almost the entire tale was too farfetched to be believed by the elderly ruler.

“If I recall correctly, one of their matriarchs, a Princess Luna is being accompanied by some of their nation's heroes.” Tullius played with a small toothpick, flicking it from side to side as he thought.

“A show of force?” The Emperor was accustomed to death threats, in truth, he had come to Skyrim fully expecting to die at the hands of an assassin. His Penitus Oculatus would be taking care of that soon enough, but for someone to have the gall to blatantly walk into Solitude...

“Not quite, they seem to have peace on their minds.” The aged general stared out the window, issuing a silent payer that the storm he felt brewing on the horizon would be gentler than he anticipated. In truth, Marcus Tullius knew that history was repeating itself, that his children and their own children would have to fight the same enemies that plagued Tamriel in ages past, and there wasn't much that could be done. “But I personally recommend keeping them at an arm's length.”

“We'll see how things go, then I'll make my decision.”