A/N: Right, so this is the first fanfiction I've written in three years. It's also a different style than what I've been doing recently- but I had inspiration and it can't hurt anything but my ego to get picked apart by others. I don't need an ego.
It had been two hours since her mother had blown out the candle beside her bed and told her to get some sleep. She couldn't though, not knowing that he'd be coming home tonight. She clutched the small, patchy stuffed wolf to her as she pressed her ear to the crack under the door. She had tried to keep awake, but still drifted off, curled up on the floor, till someone moved, causing a creek that caused her to wake up, excitedly straining to hear his voice. I was her mother, or Frigg looking for the mouse that had been eating their stores. She was starting to get disheartened that he wouldn't make it home that night- then she heard the door open and shut, the wind howling outside with the rain and sleet of the early winter season. She cracked open the door, only a few inches, waiting to hear the tell-tale laugh that would mean he was home.
Then, the great earth shatter sound resounded through the house. She pushed the door open and ran down the stairs; the toy left by the way side. Frigg barked at the sudden movement as she launched herself at her father, he bent down and pulled her into a huge. His dark braided beard ticked at her face as he held her too him like she was the stuffed wolf.
"Lydia," He mother scolded, a smile on her face, "I sent you to bed hours ago!" Her father turned to her mother, still holding Lydia in his arms,
"Kelda, come now! The child wanted to see me and Lilja home, no harm in that." Lydia peeked over her father's shoulder and waved to the tall woman leaning against the doorway, an amused smirk played across her face and she waved back,
"No harm you say- you've never had to deal with her when she hasn't had a proper sleep, Mattijs," Kelda placed her hands on her hips, "Now you've seen he's home, will you go to bed?" Lydia clung desperately to her father,
"No, I wanna hear his adventures!" She turned to look up at his scared face, "I can stay up, right da?" Mattijs pulled her off and gently put her down,
"In the morning, Lydia, I'll tell you everything. For now, you need to go to bed so the morning comes faster," He kissed the top of her head, "And thanks for seeing me home."
"Alright," She sighed- sometimes you had to humour adults, "Good night ma, good night da, good night Lilja, and good night Frigg." They chimed their good nights, sweet dreams as she pulled herself up the stairs, retrieved her toy and retired to her room. As soon as she crawled into bed, she dropped into a restful sleep.
Mattijs Sheild-Breaker was Jarl Magnar's Thane, and had earned his title in his youth when he drove bandits away from the city. The two had been friends since, and Mattijs often found himself consulted in important matters. Magnar was a good Jarl, loyal to the Empire and a strong protector to his people, and Mattijs was his staunch supporter in everything he did- which put the Jarl greatly in the peoples favour. However, he was the greatest hero to his daughter, who loved to hear of him fighting alongside his housecarl, Lilja. After dinner when he was home, they'd sit in the small kitchen of Breezehome as he told his stories, often corrected or scaled back by an amused Lilja, as Lydia sat on a mat, listening eagerly, her admiration for the large fighter clear in her eyes. When he was of protecting the people of Whiterun Hold, Lydia was playing with the other children, and pretending to fight off Frigg, the long suffering family dog. He took it well, and would grab her wooden sword and run off, meaning she'd have to chase him through the town yelling his name at least once a day to get it back. She was going to be a hero like him, serve her Jarl and keep people safe from giants and bandits. She would earn her own name, and people would drink to her health in The Banded Mare like they always did for her father.
Lydia thought her father invincible, and when Kalda worried if he would come home, she'd hug her mother and beem up at her,
"Don't worry ma- da always comes home. He's the Thane!" And for a long time, that was true. Ever few months he'd ride back on his large, dark brown horse with harrowing tales of adventure. Lydia would sit with Ysolda on the city walls and wait for the pair to come home. Often times, they wouldn't, and the two young girls would spend the day practicing their stitches or reading books. Lydia took to drawing. It started with her being bored with a bit of charcoal in her hand, trying to recrate the view of the stables, then Ysolda, then the city itself. She got quite good at it, and Ysolda would ask her to sketch random things and gave them all to the Jarls son, who was going off on his great quest. She wanted to make sure their next Jarl didn't forget about Whiterun. He asked who drew them, but no one spoke up, and Ysolda had been sworn to secrecy. Lydia was going to be a warrior, not an artist.
She might have never realised that goal if it wasn't for a surprisingly sneaky giant. Mattijs and Lilja had been riding home, exhausted from an early fight, when they passed by a large stone. As they rode by, he stepped out from behind it and took out Mattijs with a single swing, turning his intention to Lilja, believing him to be dealt with. Lilja had little luck in fighting the best off, and found herself supporting herself on a tree, trying to lift her mace. Mattijs managed to land the final blow, recovering if only enough to throw his shield. It was nothing but luck; the shield hit the back of the skull. It didn't kill the giant, but managed to stun it long enough for them to clambering on the last living horse and flee to Whiterun. He wouldn't live to see the city gates. Lilja wouldn't live long enough to see her Thanes passing. It was a blow to Lydia's reality, who up until then did not realize that you really did risk your life- that it was that risk that made you a hero.
Much to her mother's dismay, this did not detour her from her course. The Jarl promised that she could train with his guards, that she could be a warrior, trained and outfitted. She would find her place in this world- Magnar would do that for his fallen friend. She stayed with the nobility of Whiterun when Magnar passed on and Balgruuf took the holding. Lydia would serve him like her father had served his. She did not realize what that would mean till a sunny day when a stranger found themselves walking into the hold, blood of a dragon still fresh on her ax.