Irileth was agitated. And that was normally not a good thing for the hold. Let alone her own mental well being. And standing in Dragonsreach listening to Proventus prattle on about whatever inane subject was being discussed. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms under her chest and looking off to the distance, the steward going on about the need for more walls. Walls. Defense. It was something that stunk of weakness to her. The only thing that was going to defeat these dragons was taking the fight directly to them.
She remembered the first time that she fought a dragon, leading a detachment of city guards against the beast who had attacked the western watchtower. She wasn't alone then either. He was there.
Her thoughts turn to something much happier as she remembers how she told side by side with Fjolar, arrows drawn, bows taut as they shot shaft after shaft into the dragons hide. She hadn't initially thought much of him, having drawn her blade when he, looking like no more than an additional, approached the jarls throne. She saw in his eyes though, a determination that could not be matched by any of the regular sellswords and adventurers who came to speak to the Jarl. He wasn't afraid of her and his hand reached for his sword just as quickly as hers. This was the first time that she wasn't sure she would win the fight.
Luckily, he saved her from such an altercation when he said simply that he had news of the dragon attack at Helgen. She nodded, remembering her jarls edict that anyone who had news was to be brought to him as quickly as possible. She placed her blade back in it's sheathe and motioned for him to approach the throne it warmed him that she was "watching him closely" .
And she did. Her eyes were glued to the stranger as he told the Jarl that he had personally witnessed the dragon attack Helgen, having been a prisoner at the time. She couldn't help but grit her teeth. A criminal speaking to the Jarl without being in chains? Who knew what crime he had committed for the imperials to want to execute him. She made sure to move in closer to hear better what was being said, but also to increase her chances of stopping an attempt on the Jarls life should one be made.
Of course such moves were useless. Fjolar, as she learned his name, would not only show deference to the Jarl but would undertake a dangerous quest for Balgreuf and the court wizard Farengar. As he was leaving he cast a smile in her direction, kind and unassuming. She merely scowled back, her hand still menacingly grasping the hilt of her sword. She fully expected to never see him again. He would die in Deepfall Barrow, searching for whatever artifact was being sought out. She couldn't hide the surprise from her face as he strolled back into the Hall a week later, the dragonstone in his hand.
She immediately revised her opinion of him but not by much. By nature Irileth was someone who was hard to impress. After Farengar thanked him, rudely as usual, a guard ran in, clothes disheveled and torn. "Dragon! Dragon!" he shouted, running up to the Jarl and placing his hands on his knees as he shouted about an attack on the western watchtower. Irileth practically jumped approaching the Jarl. "My Lord, send me to the watchtower with a handful of men. We can handle this". She was all guts and bravado. The Jarl nodded before turning to Fjolar who was quiet through the proceedings. "There is no time to stand on ceremony here my friend. I need your help" he said to Fjolar, placing his hands on the young man's shoulders. Irileth simply rolled her eyes. A confessed criminal made a confidant of the Jarl while he brushes her aside. It sether to stewing.
"You have my sword Jarl Balgreuf" he said simply before rushing over to Irileth . "Lead the way Irileth" he said simply irking her even more. It was as if his deference was an insult to her. She said nothing as she rushed off, making her way out of Dragonsreach and moving towards the barracks. Fjolar was hot on her trails,making sure to follow her at a respectful pace. She scowled harshly, sure that he could sense her anger at being saddled with someone she clearly considered inferior to her.
After collecting the guards who were to assist here she set out, relegating him to another position as a guard who simply had to follow her, making him a now faceless subordinate. That would make his inclusion easier to handle. They set off, the watchtower in the distance as they ran. There was no dragon, not that they could see, but they could see the destruction of the tower. The walls were crumbling and flames spread out over the expanse of grass,burning down to showcase just how late they were. "hmmm I see no dragon" Irileth said to herself as she surveyed the area from behind a boulder, the others crouching behind her. She turned but before she could say anything she quickly realized that one member was gone from her group. Him.
She scowled and instantly starting whipping her head in every direction in search of one idiot she was sure was going to get himself killed. She found his crouched form approaching the destroyed masonry. "Fool" she hissed to herself as he began to search the wreckage. "No, run for it! It's still lurking around here somewhere. Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it" comes the voice of the sole surviving guard as he peeks out from the entrance to the tower. It was the that the sound of flapping will go filled the sky, punctuated by a deathly roar. Both looked up, Irileth and Fjolar while the guard ducked back into his hiding place like a coward. "Ohh gods! It's coming back" he screamed. The other guards shuffled in uncomfortable fear behind her while the fool simply unslung his bow, notched an arrow and aimed straight for the dragon, unleashing a shaft that instantly tore a hole in the wing of the beast which let out a mighty roar and dove straight at the man, a burst of flame emanating from the huge lizard's mouth. "Tor shullllll" the dragon shouts, the ancient tongue unleashing a torrent of flame.
Irileth was sure that Fjolar would be killed and charred and as much as she disliked the man she had no desire to see him die. She braced herself for the flame to make contact but instead he simply rolled forward out of the path of the flames before instantly getting to his knees and shooting two arrows in quick succession into the beasts underbelly as it flew overhead. It's roars of pain would most likely be heard for miles around as it swung around, flapping its wings to make another pass at the prey that has proven more dangerous than it might've initially thought.
Irileth was quick to jump into the action, rushing to a position alongside the now undoubtedly brave man as she too notched an arrow and aimed for the flying beast. The guards joined the two in their attempts to kill the beast but many were quickly killed off, not having the reflexes and skill of Irileth or Fjolar. With a good majority of their detachment killed the guards slowly began to back off, not noticing how close the dragon was to death. The beast had decided on one last attempt on the lives of the two pesky bugs, diving straight at them as an arrow from Fjolar hit its Mark, striking the creature in the eye and penetrating into its brain. That did not stop the beasts corpse from its course and the now dead dragon still aimed at killing the two skilled archers.
Irileth simply watched in fascination, her senses dulled by the length of the battle and the euphoria of victory. She simply watched the corpse continue it's trajectory towards her. It's then that she feels the air come out of her lungs and she is forced to the side, her body being moved out of the way by an unknown force that finds itself wrapped around her midsection. She has no time to see what it is as before she has a chance to get a look her vision goes black, whatever having thrown her out of the way now covering her entirely as the ground shakes from the impact of the dragon which continues to go, scarring and scraping the earth until it finally comes to a stop, hitting a huge chunk of the western watchtower's wall. For a moment there is nothing but silence and slowly light trickles back to Irileth as Fjolar lifts himself off of her,his hands resting on either side of her head as he turns to look at the dead dragon.
Irileth, for her part, does not even look at the dead beast instead opting to look up only at the face of Fjolar. He saved her. He had put his own life at risk to push her out of the way and shielded her. Why? She had treated him with nothing but scorn and loathing from the moment he had reached Dragonsreach. Her thoughts are pushed out as he turns and looks down at her,his eyes bright and his smile wide. "Are you alright?" He asks simply to which Irileth can only nod, her mouth having suddenly gone dry from the position she found herself in. "Good" he said simply before getting up and offering her his hand.
She took it, feeling strange at the contact between them and he helps lift her up. She doesn't release his hand instantly, and neither does he, instead opting to look at her, his face lit up in a smile and hers an impassive wall of stone. They do drop hands, as soon as the guards advance all cheering and laughing, forgetting the pitiful role they played in the battle. It's then that the sound of rushing wind fills the air and all turn to see the dragon enveloped by fire as it seemed to decompose right in front of them.
The guards drew their swords and formed a defensive ring around themselves while Fjolar pushes Irileth behind him, his own sword drawn. Irileth does not even have time to protest as the dragon's corpse disintegrates and tendrils of bright white light emanate from the dragon and instantly thrust towards Fjolar and are absorbed into his body. Irileth shouts in fear, her hand moving towards the man's shoulder but it seems to be over in a second and all that is left of the dragon is it's bones, dry and almost bleached in the Skyrim sun. All is quiet for a moment until Fjolar opens his mouth and says "Fos", a burst of energy emanating from his mouth and bursting forth, flattening all the grass and vegetation in front of him. Irileth keeps her hand on his shoulder, looking on in shock at the power that Fjolar just exhibited.
"I can't believe it. You're…..dragonborn" says one of her guards, Heimrell , who had snuck up to the two. Irileth instantly drops her hand, her dark grey face heating up and turning red with embarrassment at being caught with such a sentiment clear on her face. She backed up and let him speak, telling the tale of the dragonborn as Fjolar listened aptly, nodding along as he did. "I...think you may be right" Fjolar says simply and Irileth cannot help but agree. After all her hand was on his shoulder when he shouted, something she was sure he couldn't do before he was...affected by whatever happened between him and the dragon. "What do you think Irileth?" asks another one of the guards who had come with them. It's all she can do to not explode. Her anger at being left alone to fight to a dragon with Fjolar enough to make her want to snap the necks of every guard present. Instead she rolls her eyes. "I have seen many things in my travels. Strange things. But, whatever he is, dragonborn or no, whoever can kill a dragon is worth more their weight in gold" she says simply, her eyes moving towards Fjolar as he stood apart. She simply nodded at him. This was the best apology he could actually hope for and Irileth was loathe to even give that.
When they returned to Balgreuf the whole tale was told and once again Irileth was moved to the side as the Jarl asked questions incessantly of the dragonborn. The calls from High Hrothgar were proof enough to the Jarl but seeing him slay and absorb a dragons soul was enough for Irileth.
"Well you have done my hold a great service dragonborn. By my right as Jarl I name you a thane of Whiterun and award you this weapon from my armory as a personal token of my esteem" he said before rising to give Fjolar one of his most beloved battleaxes. Irileth simply quirked her eyebrow curious as to why the Jarl is awarding Fjolar with such largesse. She fully believed he deserved it and so much more but the Jarl had never done this before. She simply sat as the Jarl also awarded Lydia, a solid fighter and a loyal companion as far as Irileth knew, as Fjolar's housecarl. It was a normal and inevitable part of being a thane or high personage and it should have been expected. So why did Irileth feel so jealous?
"There is one more thing dragonborn. In honor of the great service you have done to Whiterun a feast will be held in your name. Tonight. After all I'm sure the greybeards can wait just a little longer after all" the Jarl says with a smile, seated in his throne.
The next few hours were spent in a hurry, preparing Dragonsreach for a party. Irileth was a housecarl and this left out of such preparations. She was left out of many things when it came!e to the Jarl and his plans nowadays. She simply walked around the Hall and watched as Proventus had Hulda and Saadia work at preparing the Hall and cooking the food. Fjolar was nowhere to be seen, having gone on a quick excursion to the direct Northwest of the hold having promised to return for the feast. She hadn't had much time to speak to him, having so much she wanted to say but for some reason not having any idea on how she would say it. It was exactly fifteen minutes before the party when he was seen entering Dragonsreach, wearing fine clothes and without weapons. From her position near the throne Irileth couldn't help but admire him. His regal bearing and stature spoke as if he was a Jarl himself but she knew that a Jarl never fought like Fjolar would, not when he could have his minions do it for him.
The party started with much fanfare, with even Nazeem being downright polite to the dragonborn. Everyone wished to speak with him and thank him for what he had done. Some of the women even flirted with him, to her shock even Carlotta Valentina who had publicly expressed her desire to never marry again yet here she was, acting like a harlot in Irileth's opinion as she hung off Fjolar's arm. Irileth couldn't help but feel the fire of jealousy, strange and unknown to her, bubble up within her. Why was this happening to her? She asked herself all night what was going on. The festivities continued without her direct involvement, the Jarl having rather selfishly refused to release her for the night to have some of her own enjoyment, instead simply following him around and keeping her hand on her sword.
Midway through the party, when everyone was pretty well under the bottle except for Irileth. The Jarl was drunkenly fondling Saadia who rebuffed his advances and slapped him, provoking a chorus of laughter from the assembled crowd. Irileth simply contained her rage. When had Balgreuf become such a weak milk drinker? A lover of luxury? She remembered the man she had pledge her support to when she had come to Skyrim. He was bold, brave and handsome. She even fancied that she was in love with him. But after 10 years of being Jarl she was disgusted with him. It was all she could do to not draw her sword and kill him while he slept. Only her honor kept her from doing so.
"Not having a good time I see" comes a voice from behind her and she turns seeing Fjolar standing right behind her, a smile paid gently on his face. He was so handsome and sure. And undoubtedly brave in battle. It was easy to be disarmed by him. Especially now that she had seen him in battle. That was a kind of camaraderie that could not easily be dispelled. She smiles lightly, only the corners of her mouth moving. "Not as much as others it would seem" she said simply, turning back to see the Jarl accosting a much more willing target, a serving girl named Lilia. "Perhaps you would have more fun if you were released from duty" he says simply before walking over to the Jarl and tapping him on the shoulder, angering him as he distracts him from his pursuit of the serving girl. The fire in his eyes disappears as soon as he sees who it is and he smiles. "Ahh dragonborn. Are you enjoying your party?" He asks, the serving girl obviously put out by the instantaneous loss of attention. Fjolar simply smiles and nods. "Of course my Jarl. I must thank you for your hospitality but I do have yet one more favor to ask. Irileth. She was instrumental in defeating the dragon and I can ensure your protection here tonight. I simply ask that you release her from duty"
He finishes his request by bowing and the Jarl , while momentarily confused, acquiesced, with a leer. "Ahh, want a crack at her hmm? Well you have my permission dragonborn. My housecarl is at your disposal" he says, his hand going back to the serving girls rear and the matter is closed. Irileth would have been angry had she not seen the secretive look of loathing in Fjolar's eyes. She couldn't help but smile at that reaction. It would seem that she had severely underestimated Fjolar. "Thank you my Jarl" he says simply, bowing before turning back to Irileth and offering her his arm which she took, not knowingly exactly why. Perhaps it was just his noble manner . He smiled at her before escorting her outside, away from the party and out onto the veranda to the rear of the palace. She let's go of his arm and moves over to a ledge. "I hope you do not think that I will sleep with you simply because the Jarl gave you his Blessing" she says ,menace filling her voice. He simply chuckles in response. "To the contrary, I wanted to kill that pompous ass" he said before moving alongside her and placing his hands on the ledge as well.
"I actually came to give you this as a thank you. By all rights this party should be half yours"
he says simply before reaching down into an alcove and bringing forward a wrapped package, long and handed it to her. She took the package and looked up warily, before her long nimble fingers working on unwrapping the parcel. When the paper falls away, she gasps. It's a beautiful sword, it's handle embossed with a twirled serpent and a hawk. The blade was sharp and glowed green in the moonlight. It was all she could do to not gasp and drop the blade.
"It….it's beautiful. Fjolar...where?" She asks simply to which he smiles and looks at her. "I used the forge at silent moons camp. It took a few hours to make it but I did my best. I'm glad you enjoy it" he says simply to which she smiles brightly and despite herself brings her lips to his, her hand not holding the sword goes to the side of his face. His hands move to her waist and the two kiss passionately. It isn't long before she presses herself against him, her hand going to his robes to try and unbutton them. He pulls away however, and she is shocked and also hurt. Did she misread the situation? Was she so long out of practice when it comes to courtship that she had no idea what she was doing?
"Fjolar did I...do something wrong?" She asks worriedly, feeling a sense of rejection that made her heart twist into a knot. She felt like a young maiden and not the seasoned warrior she was. He however smiles, and takes his hand, the contrast between his pale white Nordic skin and her dark grey dunmer skin shocking to her. He kisses her hand gently however and pulls her close. "No, you did what you wanted which is what I want desperately as well but not while you're still bound to that man. No, I will free you first" he says simply as he looks deep into her eyes, black as the darkest depth. The blush on her face was enough to tell him what her eyes hid.
She lays her head on his chest, thinking about how her attitude had changed so much. From hating a man to loving him in the span of fighting a dragon. "I cannot petition for my freedom. I cannot be with you. I am a Dunmer and you are a Nord. Why do you want me? And for more than one night it appears if you have turned me down" she asks, nervous as to his answer.
It is silent for a moment. Too silent, but then he begins to speak. "I...well at first I saw how beautiful you were. Almost untouchable beauty. Then instantly how brave you were. Drawing a sword on a stranger. Your loyalty to your Jarl, despite how much of an arrogant buffoon he is. Your honor. Then I saw how you stood with me during the fight with the dragon. These are all the reasons why I desire you. Why I love you. A Nord does not need to explain to a woman why he feels the way he does about her" he says simply, his face now a mask of red as he was obviously embarrassed. Irileth, was not one who needed such sentiments. She just wanted to know for this one time.
She presses herself even closer to him, using his body to keep warm in the cold Skyrim night. "I will come for you" he says simply, the force of his words evident. "I will return to you and free you, whatever it takes. I swear by this Irileth" he says simply. She believed him. For the first time in her life Irileth believed exactly what was told to her.
And by the eight she would help him and follow him wherever he went.