Hey All! So this is my first ever FanFiction, I will keep it up as much as possible but I'm mostly using it to try and get back into writing again. I hope you all enjoy!
"If you do this, you will never be allowed back into this house again!"
Astaria stopped at the front door, long black hair tied up in a loose braid, two smaller braids intertwining within it from the side of her head. Slowly, she faces her father, dark amber eyes staring at him, filled with sorrow.
"I am sorry you feel that way father, but I will not sit here and be a whim to your callings, nor will I watch as my homeland burns." She says calmly.
Her mother is standing behind her father. She was the only one that ever understood.
Her father was outraged. "After everything we have given you, you are going to throw it away by joining a half fought cause! For what!? A life where you want even make it till your twenty-four?!"
"I am more than capable of defending myself father," Astaria says crisply. "Just because you never approved of my lessons."
He snarled, clenching his fists. "You know nothing of what is out there Astaria."
"Nor will I if I do not go out on my own." She snapped. "I do not care if you don't like my decision, but this is my decision and you cannot stop me."
Her father goes to rush forward, but her mother grabs his arm. "Let her go."
Astaria just nods in a final goodbye and steps out into the cold of Windhelm, her cloak wrapped loosely around her. She knew she would be recognised, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that she was going to join Ulfric's cause, no matter the cost to herself. This is what she knew she had to do.
Several people greeted her as she walked to the Palace of the Kings and she simply nods in greeting, she had no time to get distracted, she'd put this off for too long already. The Stormcloak's at the door bowed slightly; after all she was a noble of the city, her father well known as a benefactor for the war, despite his reluctance to let her join it.
Inside the building was little relief from the cold and it had always been this way for as long as she could remember, everyone who turned up who wasn't a Nord always complained about it, never to the hosts of course, but on the quiet with their neighbour or friend.
Astaria was short for a Nord, her noble 'friends' always reminded her of that. They used to joke about how a Nord man would never properly be satisfied with such a short Nord woman, let alone want to be with one who is so unlike most others. Black hair in itself was uncommon amongst Nord's, but it was her eyes that really make her stand out.
The rest of her family all had clear blue eyes, like most other Nord's, but she, according to her mother anyway, had been born with her amber eyes, causing her mother to always say that she was meant for great things, but this always sounded foolish to Astaria, she was just different but no less a Nord.
Pushing these thoughts away, Astaria now paused just before the throne, Ulfric and Galmar were in a heated discussion but she was too frustrated to listen properly, instead Jorleif, the steward, approached her.
"Lady Snow-born, to what do we owe the pleasure?" He asked kindly.
Astaria visibly winced at the use of the title. "I've come to join the Stormcloak's."
Jorleif clearly wasn't expecting that answer as he stared at her, stunned, but this had now drawn the attention of Ulfric and Galmar.
"You are Ezen Snow-born's daughter?" Galmar asked and Astaria nods. "Why would a noble woman want to fight?"
She forced down the words she wanted to spit out and instead spoke as calmly as she could. "Just because I am a noble's daughter does not give me any less reason to fight."
Galmar raises an eyebrow at her. "Do you even know how to use a sword?"
Astaria couldn't help but scowl at this, her hand resting on the steel sword at her belt. "Had my father had his way, no, I'd just be another noble's daughter vying for the attention of the highest bidder, but thanks to my mother, she made sure that I wasn't defenceless."
The three men stared at her, Jorleif looking increasingly uncomfortable.
"Does your father know you are here Lady Snow-born?" He asked.
She couldn't but roll her eyes this time. "Of course. Does he agree? No, but I do not care, I am old enough to make my own choices, his acceptance is his own problem. Also, if you wouldn't mind, stop calling me Lady Snow-born, that is my mother. I'm pretty sure by now my father will have nothing to do with me, let alone allow his name to be attached to mine." Her impatience for the situation was growing, so she looked at Ulfric, whose storm coloured eyes were watching her closely.
Ulfric examines the small woman in front of him, he had seen her before as the noble's often tried to get their hands in more pies, bringing their daughters along in case another noble, or in most cases, Ulfric himself, got an eye for them, but he had never talked to her. He could see the fire burning in her heart and it amused him.
"Would this affect your father's outlook of the war?" He asked simply.
Astaria had already been expecting this question. "Once he has calmed down and had time to think it over, no, I don't believe it will."
But this clearly made Galmar uncomfortable. "Ezen Snow-born is an important backing to this war, the last thing we want to do is insult him."
"Whether you take me or not, I will fight in this war. I will tail the Stormcloak's around if I have to."
This earned a chuckle from Ulfric, surprising both Galmar and Jorleif. "You deny her the right to fight Galmar? She's got more balls than most of the other's that come to us."
Astaria felt herself blush.
"Ulfric, we cannot risk losing the Snow-born's funding-" Jorleif started.
Ulfric waved an impatient hand. "I will deal with Ezen Snow-born if I have to, but we cannot deny the right to those that wish to fight for our cause."
Galmar looked unconvinced though. "Shouldn't we at least see if she can fight? We don't have time to be training rookies Ulfric."
"I assure you, I can fight."
"Yes but your actions will tell us otherwise girl." Galmar growled as Ulfric shrugs, indifferent to the idea. Galmar looks down the hall to a young blonde Nord standing at the doors. "Ralof! Come here a minute."
Ralof hurried down the hall, his blue eyes attentive, he casts a curious glance at Astaria before facing Galmar. "Yes sir?"
"How would you feel about testing the Unblooded here out?"
Ralof stared at Astaria. "She's a bit small for a warrior sir."
Astaria couldn't take it anymore, she unclipped her cloak and let it drop, drawing her sword in the process, holding it confidently at the ready. "Come on then."
The four men stared at her and Ralof's mouth twitched. "You can't be serious? You'd be better off at home in front of a fire learning to cook."
Astaria's eyes flashing were the only warning Ralof got, in a matter of seconds he was swept off his feet, Astaria's boot on his chest and her sword at his throat.
She stood there with a smirk. "Would you like to say that again?"
Galmar, Jorleif and Ralof were stunned; the only one who gave no indication was Ulfric, who just watched the small warrior intently. He could tell by the way she had moved she had not been trained by a warrior; her intent hadn't been to hack her opponent down but to exploit his weaknesses, in Ralof's case, his height and doubt of her.
"You're quick girl." Galmar grumbled. "I'll give you that. How about letting the lad up?"
Astaria stepped away quickly and held out her hand to help Ralof, who accepted it, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He half bowed and quickly returned to his post by the door.
Astaria sheathed her sword. "Now, is that all the proof you need?" Again, she looked at Ulfric, she was tired of these games and he was the one that would have final say.
Ulfric eyed her carefully, being a noble, especially being born to Ezen Snow-born, she would know more than her fair share of politics, which meant that she would have a quickness with words and how to use, combined with her fighting style…something was strange about it and he was half tempted to say no, but that fire burning in her, he needed more men like that and he couldn't turn down the chance.
"Of course," his deep voice grumbled. "As long as Galmar is convinced?"
Galmar shook his head, rubbing his neck. "Well, alright. She may be able to wield a sword, but she's still a noble, and nobles prove little worth except for boot licking."
Astaria snorts, picking up her cloak. "I have no intention of licking anyones boots, that I can assure you, if they are that unlucky to find me that close, they will more likely find my sword at their throat."
This earned a small smile from the old bear. "They're still just words girl, said until proven otherwise." He looks at Ulfric, who gives a nod. "Come on then, let's get you a uniform and sworn in."