Prolouge
"Lydia!"
The figure turned from the market stall to see Proventus Avenicci, a small Imperial man dressed in a well tailored white and grey stewards outfit. His cheeks were flushed, no doubt from descending from Dragonsreach in a hurry. Such was the life of a steward to the Jarl.
"Lydia, the Jarl would have you in his hall. He is to name a new Thane." The Imperial stated matter of factly, making an effort not to wheeze too obviously.
"A new Thane?" Lydia asked, placing back the potato she had been examining into the basket in Carlotta Valentina the stall owner. Lydia was of average height for a Nord woman with black hair not quite reaching her shoulders and dark eyes. Her pale skin stood in contrast to the dreary grey of her steel armour and the mouldy yellow of its fur trimmings. Despite its unappealing appearance, her being in Whiterun told of its worth in battle.
A new Thane meant a great act had been done for the Jarl and the hold of Whiterun. With news of Ulfric's recent capture trickling into Whiterun a day ago, perhaps whoever this new Thane is involved with the war, Lydia thought. A surge of serenity flowed through her at the thought of this petty civil war ending and a new Thane being added to the Jarl's household.
And I am to be their Housecarl, she thought.
"Yes, a new Thane. The Jarl is anointing him as we speak." Proventus said, adding the urgency to his voice. Forever a harassed and worried man, Proventus tended to add urgency where there was none.
"Alright Proventus, let's go" Lydia said and began to quickly walk towards the dominating hold that was Dragonsreach. It was a famous hold, recorded by historians and sung about by the Bards as the home of High King Olaf One Eye, the Jarl of Whiterun who imprisoned the great Dragon Numinex in its great hall and thus gave the hold its name. Will the Bards sing songs of me, Lydia wondered as she and Proventus ascended towards the Wind District.
Lydia had arrived in Whiterun three years ago hoping to abandon her mercenary lifestyle and take up arms for the Jarl Balgruff the Greater. The Jarl had, impressed with her record as a bandit hunter and true Nord accepted her into his court. Housecarl was her title and along with the Jarl's Housecarl Irileth and his brother Hrongar they were the Jarl's personal warriors. Until now that is.
'We serve the Jarl.' Irileth had told her on her first visit to the hold, whilst showing her to her quarters. She looked the same then as she does now, Lydia thought; Haughty, lightening fast in that leather armour with flowing brown hair and those piercing, red Dunmer eyes.
'We serve the Jarl until he dictates otherwise. He is your main priority, he is the reason you are here. Never forget that. His life is paramount and your loyalty to him must be unquestioning. Do you understand?'
Indeed Lydia had understood and flourished under the benefits allegiance to a famous Jarl held. However, Nord tradition held that a new Thane to the hold would receive a personal Housecarl to protect and serve their new liege and it was for that purpose that Lydia supposed she had been summoned.
As they walked up into the Cloud District Proventus spoke at length but Lydia's mind was elsewhere. Who was this new Thane? Would it be Olfrid Battleborn? He was the patriarch of an old family in Whiterun from what Lydia could recall and rich. With war on the doorstep he would have been a sensible choice. But from what she had heard at the Bannered Mare his pro Imperial views had put him at odds with the Jarl, which was peculiar as any fool could see Whiterun was an Imperial hold. In this war with the Stormcloaks it seemed as though there were no neutral sides. You were either with them or the Empire.
What about old Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions? He was renowned for his ferocity, bravery and honour throughout all of Skyrim and would make an excellent Thane. For a moment Lydia imagined campaigning besides such a legendary figure who she had only glimpsed around Whiterun, despite being here for three years. She quickly remembered that the Companions were a self sufficient lot and not likely to get involved with the Jarl or the politics of the land. Still, war does make strange bedfellows she thought.
Lydia prayed to Stendarr that the Jarl had not make Nazeem a Thane. The man was the owner of Chillfurrow farm on the outskirts of the hold and a notorious bootlicker. What was more he wasn't even a Nord. Lydia had taken some time to get used to Irileth but she at least showed no fear in the thick of battle! The familiar sound of steel on steel rang as the Companions trained near their mead hall. It was an impressive building, resembling an upturnt longboat bearing the shields of former members proudly. As Proventus nattered away about Helgen, a booming sound was heard from the very air itself.
"Dovahkiin!"
Proventus, Lydia, the companions training, everyone lifted their heads to the sky and waited.
Nothing.
"What in Oblivion was that?" Proventus said, franticly looking around.
Could it be? Every Nord child grew up hearing of the Greybeards who lived atop the Throat of the World in their monastery High Hrothgar. A thousand tales about them alone were told, but who else would or could make such a noise.
"The Greybeards, Proventus. It has to be." Lydia replied, casting her gaze to the mountain that dominated Skyrim. The highest mountain in all of Tamriel some said. The mountain that was home to the mysterious Greybeards, masters of the way of the voice.
"The Jarl will want to know about this" The steward said and redoubled his pace towards Dragonsreach.