A few months had passed since the young wolf of Winterfell arrived in the sparkling kingdom of Melniboné. She had seen the great sights and meadows, spent countless hours with the Emperor, monopolizing all of his time to the point it felt like a sin, and she had loved every moment of it, though, like a greedy child, she longed for more. She longed to see the seedy underbelly of the majestic city that Elric was too embarrassed to show her. A place where the skills she had acquired during her childhood could actually be put to use, where she could prove herself amongst the people of such a vast empire to belong somewhere. It was a feeling she’d never really known before. And although she felt the pull of such a force every time she and the emperor hid themselves away from the rest of the world, she longed for others to see something worthwhile in her as well. Perhaps then she could stay.

It was a thought that had long plagued the corners of her mind for some time. Though perhaps today was the day, it was still rather bright out, as the sun had only recently entered the midday sky and the emperor was set to appear before visiting dignitaries, so she wasn’t likely to see much of him. In truth, it seemed almost perfect. All she needed was an escort who knew the city like the back of his hand. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find Dyvim at this time of day?" She questioned, her bright blue eyes looking up from the dressing table at the lady's maid Elric had provided to her. "If he is not with the Emperor receiving in the great hall, he will likely be in the gardens." She responded quickly with a look of confusion.

"Right then. Thank you." Sara added abruptly, standing to her feet, her hands smoothing out the cotton fabric of her dress, which was rather dull and lackluster, much like the dress she'd arrived in. "Are you quite sure about this dress, mistress?" Leaving the lips of her attendant, who had been dressing the young envoy in clothing far more suitable for the station of a great house, "someone might mistake you," she added, though she dared not finish the thought that had come to mind. "I am," Sara insisted, a soft smile coming to her lips as she spoke the unsaid words in her head: "for a servant." It was a response she'd hoped for, in truth. To be inconspicuous, it was also a part Dyvim would have to play, though she was sure he'd protest at first.

Upon thanking Luthien for her assistance, she dismissed her services for the remainder of the day and headed out into the passageways, her footsteps soft against the tiles as she strolled elegantly in search of the dragon knight. As Luthien had predicted, she found him just beyond the doors of the shimmering palace in the lush gardens, willed with an array of colors. "Afternoon, Lady Sara,” she heard upon catching his gaze. “Good afternoon,” she responded, waltzing slowly up to him, her bottom lip tucked gently beneath her teeth as she contemplated how best to approach the topic, though she wasn’t sure as to why, considering he was the one who’d made the original offer.

She couldn’t think of one at that moment, instead resigning herself to the quiet like a fish out of water, which he’d taken notice of. “I can see you are all out of sorts today without my cousin." He spoke, his tone rather formal, though his lips held a playful smile in place. “I am rather surprised to see you are not with his majesty today.” Sara replied, her deep sapphire hues peering up at him. Like Elric, he was taller than she, though not nearly by as much as the top of her head came up to his nose. He made no attempt to respond verbally, instead opting for a nonchalant shrug. Was he not welcomed, perhaps?

A thought that quickly brought about a zillion other questions, though she'd forgo them all for the time being in favor of garnering Dyvim's cooperation. "Perhaps you might be willing to help provide a distraction," she commented. "Sure thing," he responded. "What did you have in mind?" He added.

"I thought perhaps you could show me the dreaming city." The visiting she-wolf spoke, referencing the offer he had made so early on in their time together. "Umm." He began, his voice seemingly cut off as he contemplated all of the things that could go wrong. "Please," Sara interjected, her soft, doe-eyed expression piercing his stone exterior. "Alright," he reluctantly agreed, before realizing how she'd dressed.

"Stay close," he ordered, his words delicately placed as they entered the stretch of dreaming den frequented by most of the nobility, including himself, although they weren’t the ones she’d been most interested in. No, she wanted to see the damp, flea-infested areas of the city where many of the palace servants and merchants lived—the place that had reminded her most of Flea Bottom back home. The place her brother and the emperor would not approve of. It was a command from him; she didn’t dare vocalize, knowing he too would disapprove.

Instead, she continued along the passageway that would lead her further into the city of dreaming souls, where once-wide streets narrowed and buildings neatly spread apart now staggered together in one giant mass. "This isn't staying close," he scolded, rushing to catch up with Sara, who in that moment seemed as though she'd been on a mission only she was privy to. "Would you have taken me down here had I asked?" She spoke, stopping in her tracks, his silence in that moment speaking more than his words might have. "You all treat me like I'm some fragile object." She spoke. And while she wasn't entirely bothered by it—especially when it had come from the emperor—it kept her from being able to fulfill her promise to him: How was she to help him if she didn't see the parts of Melniboné that needed it the most?

It was a sentiment he seemed to understand as he continued along beside her. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as they ventured further into the slums. In doing so, it was clear to see why the lower-class citizens of a kingdom so vast in knowledge and technology would crumble to the temptations of opioids to dull their senses to all their troubles. It tugged at her conscience and filled her with a feeling of disgust. It made her appreciative, if only slightly, of her home, which had never been the most heartwarming, to know those born without nobility could live without having to numb themselves in order to survive. How could they, the nobility of this spectacular city, turn such a blind eye?

She really couldn't fathom it as they passed a few drunk and homeless Melnibonéans asleep in their own filth. The smells of sweat and urine mixed with the sweetness of the drug, which had caused wonderfully lucid dreams broken by a sound she was all too familiar with. Cries? She thought to herself. Faint like that of a child, her eyes scanned the dull scenery in search of them.