The anniversary was supposed to be today.

I looked at my worn tired hands grabbing onto the throne that I sat on for many years. My guards were at my side, their swords a ready and their shields armed. My housecarl Irilieth at the ready as I pushed myself up from the throne and my faithful steward Provennicus handed me the blade his daughter had forged herself.

A sword brought to me by the one I had called Thane.

I held in hand, looking down at its fine sharp blade. It was nothing short of excellent craftsmanship and I admired its intricate hilt.

But the bang of the hall's doors woke me from my trance and my guards went forth to hold it steady. I knew deep in my mind it was futile but their bravery was astounding as they withstood each bang.

Provennicus brought my frightened children to safety in the deeper chambers of the hold and would remember their faces if I were to die here.

Today was supposed the anniversary.

The doors flew open as my guards finally gave way and out of the smoke, a familiar, almost pleasant figure appeared from within the smoke. He wasn't alone. There were Stormcloaks pouring in, soldiers of my fellow Jarl Ulfric but I ignored them. The one who needed my true attention was the Dragonborn.

My Thane. The man who came to me to report of the dragon of Helgen. The man who would be my Thane and the Thane of many others.

There he was, all silent and noble. He was the perfect epitome of a warrior. The perfect epitome of a hero. The perfect Thane.

Ulfric's underling, Garlmor Stone-fist, shouted at me to surrender but I paid him no heed. My eyes, and mind, was all centred on the solemn man who stood beside him, who glared back.

The battle began.

My soldiers bravely charged at the Stormcloaks and my housecarl was on to Grom. But the Dragonborn made a beeline for me and in mere moments we were face to face. I couldn't see his face under his hood but I was sure he could see mine. My face of sadness, anger, rage, confusion, all mixed in one.

Our blades clashed. I was a warrior of reknown for a long time but the Dragonborn was a legend. His strikes were clearly more powerful at my own and I was pushed back to my throne. At the ring of our dancing blades and the song of metal clashing, memories began to pour into me. Memories about my Thane

I remembered when I first met the Dragonborn. All young and silent, he was clearly a man of action and initiative. He got my attention the moment he warned me of the dragon from Helgen. He impressed me further when he just pulled out the Dragonstone from his pocket, even shocking my own court wizard, Farengar.

And his domination of the dragon that attacked our western watch tower and revealed the fact that he was Dragonborn. His shout reverberated through the town, bringing shock and awe to all. Including me.

And then drowning it would be the Greybeards, whose voices trembled the earth I walked. Calling to him. Looking down on us for the first time in what seemed like millennium.

I dodged his swift slice as I avoided his furious attacks and countered in vain. The man's footwork was of excellent form and I could still feel the nauseating respect flowing withing him.

And I would never forget the day I sent him off to them. To his destiny.

I would see him once or twice after that. But I never needed to even see him.

I would remember the heaps of praises my townspeople have for him, for the favours and good deeds he had done for them. And Lydia would tell us the many adventures that he would have when he brought her along. And no one can ignore the great tales of legendary prowess and pride he has brought to us as a Companion. And no one can forget how he managed to bring together 2 of the greatest enemies together to fight the dragons, no matter how brief of a time. And now….

That was a year ago.

For what seemed like eternity, our blades locked and for the first time I noticed the long sword he was carrying. The Ebony Blade. The weapon that I had locked up in the basement for so long. And my Thane has it. Why? After all I did for him?

I should have known when he brought the Ulfric's axe of challenge to me just two week before. I sat there listening to my advisors as they try to persuade me to side with the Empire. All the while looking at the man himself. He stood there silent as always and looked as if he wanted to tell me to go the other way. To tell me to avoid fighting him. But I was foolish.

When I gave it back, in an act of declaration of war, I had fully expected my Thane to abandon Ulfric stand by my side. But that was not to be.

A second later, I felt my sword be wrenched out of my hands and it clanged harmlessly on the floor. With a fist, I punched the cursed blade out of his hands and drew my sword and shield as he drew his dual blades.

We fought long and hard. Jarl and Thane. Our blades dancing around each other. Our voices roaring at one another. And blood dropped from the wounds we had dealt one another.

But my Thane was the better fighter.

I should have known I could not match him. "FUS RO DAH!" I flew back as the Thu'um swallowed me in its wave and I lost my grip on my shield. I dropped onto the floor, breathing heavily and vision blurred as the Dragonborn walked up to me.

I swung my last blade but my Thane caught it between his. With a twist he snatched it out of my hands and in one swift movement, his blade tip was at my neck.

"AHHH!" My housecarl, Irilieth, protective as always, rushed up, her sword raised to meet the Thane. But his other blade came up quick and its tip too was at her neck, pressing into the green-gray skin.

I could only sit there and looked up. Up the hood of my Thane. His eyes were sad and sorrowful, just like mine and for a moment we stayed there, sharing a connection in that brief period. But it had to broken.

"Get out….." His words were melancholic and he looked at me with pleading eyes. Like he never wanted to fight. "I have no choice…my Jarl"

I was defeated.

"Enough...That's enough..."

This was supposed to be the anniversary.

"I surrender...I surrender..."

The anniversary of when I first met my Thane.