Chapter 1

Author's Note:: Anyhow I am going start posting the chapters I have finished and edited for the main story line, I will try to keep updating Cynthia but not sure how often she will get the updates since this has been my main focus. I of course will write stories involving the other characters, especially Rosaria since she was my vampire character for one playthrough that I found quite fun. Ironically enough I actually most of her story already written

Author's Disclaimer:: All characters mentioned belong to Bethesda and their trade mark except for several oc's that I created for the story itself. This is a work for pure enjoyment.

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Prologue

"Allo Lucia, hey hey wait up. Come on I know you heard me, so by Mara's love slow down!", grinning Lucia of course heard Nekir, but she was still quite annoyed with him-It serves him right being late, especially on today of all days to be late-for a moment she felt her cheeks warm up in anger but as suddenly as it occurred her anger subsided. Its not like he did it on purpose, he like his brother rule Whiterun jointly so its not odd that something might have come up, musing faintly to herself. As she sped through the market within the inner part of Whiterun Lucia couldn't help notice a familiar figure leaning up against a wooden post. "Hallo Uncle Jon!", waving towards Jon-taking note that despite the number of grey gracing his hair the new head of the Battle-Born clan seemed as hale and hearty as ever-grinning seeing that as always he was leaning upon the post in front of Belethor's, oops, Ysolda's General Goods store now. I wonder if its because its his favorite spot or because of Ysolda now owns the store after Belethor was thrown out for being found out as being a smuggler-smiling to herself while walking towards Jon to see what he was doing.

Looking up from the small brown book he was reading hearing himself being hailed as smile lightening up his sun tanned face, probably another tale from the Bard's college Lucia thought faintly-at least I hope it isn't another poetry book, that last one he read still makes my ears burn-slowing down to a stop, at least she thought that Nekir would probably catch up with her now.

"Hello Jon!", unable to help herself, and despite the fact that she was wearing a cuirass of highly polished steel, she gave Jon a powerful hug that nearly bowled them both over if it wasn't for the post the poor man was leaning against.

Laughing heartily despite having the wind knocked out of him, his book lying forgotten upon the cobbled streets, "Wow, easy there lass I am not as stout as I use to be now adays.", grinning as he pushed her away so he could bend down to retrieve his book, laughing eyes taking a glance behind Lucia to gaze at the rapidly approaching form of Nekir. "Oh, I see you are giving one of our Jarls his daily run in full armor today as well. You do run that poor fool ragged you know," for a moment his smile softens while straightening, a hand absently brushing the dirt off the book-which Lucia discovered to her dismay was indeed another poetry book.

Tilting her head to the side causing long waves of light brown hair slide along one shoulder of her steel cuirass, voice bright with mock seriousness, "But of course Jon, it is my solemn duty as the Dragonborn's daughter to make sure our budding leaders grow up the right way.", lowering her gaze to give Jon an impish smile, "Also to make him work for it since he made my papa work real hard to save him.", and despite her best attempt she couldn't help but burst into laughter as the sweaty and out breath young Jarl finally caught up to her. With a side ward glance towards Nekir, "Though I seriously have my work caught out for me, if such a small run like this has him nearly out of breath.", though there was mirth in her voice, her eyes still looked towards the young man wheezing beside her with fondness formed through years of friendship.

Nekir for his part gave Lucia a venomous look that soon melted as a weak laugh managed escaped through the gasps as his lungs tried to catch enough air, hands upon his knees, "Next time how bout you also run down several steps in full armor with the knowledge if you slip you will end up either breaking your silly neck or drowning. You annoying little urchin.", with a grunt Nekir straightened up, the sun catching the polish silver plate of his chest plate as the orange robe of a priest of Mara flapped briefly as it settled along his frame. Though with flushed skin tinging his normally tanned skin Lucia couldn't help but notice how handsome the gloomy and often times moody young boy had become.

"Anyhow I am truly am sorry for being late, but father wanted to speak with both Frothar and myself about the upcoming anniversary of the end of the Civil War. Then of course that new Imperial Legate and Stormcloak liaison nearly had a row. Hmmm...I believe their names where Hadvar and Ralof, though I can't for the life or me remember which one was from Riverwood. They still bitter that in the end neither side really won but of course they like saying their side won of course.", shaking his head woefully, Lucia still missed his dark reddish brown lockes despite how he cut his hair down into a more Imperial cut that she liked, but to her it really looked like was copying his hero who also employed the same style. "So I had to play the peace maker while my brother got to sit and snicker behind that beard of his while I did all the work. Remind me again when this dual Jarl idea was such a good idea to begin with it seems like I do most of the work."

Lifting her gloved hand to cover her mouth, of course it was to late to fully muffle her giggle at the hand dog expression Nekir gave them, so she was very grateful when Jon stepped in, "Well young Jarl a long time ago your father nearly caused the city of Whiterun to be destroyed with his indecision. If it wasn't for a certain man back then that stood up to confront an army Whiterun wouldn't be what it is today. Now, now I see that dark look of your face young man, but the truth is that your father was a great man, a fine leader but he realized that the burden of ruling was a hefty weight to bear that day. So when you two grew of age he declared that you both would be Jarl, equal in all things with each choosing an adviser of their own.", for a moment Jon's eyes slid to Lucia who was busy looking else where but in his direction, "And the Divines gifted us with two abled men who played to their strengths to make up for the other's weakness, while your brother was brave and tactically brilliant he lacked the understanding that is required to keep a city together. When one had a question that needed answering the other would answer, and through the years since your father has stepped down I for one agree he made an amazing decision that will cement his name forever in Whiterun's history.", a smiling forming on his lips seeing Nekir's pleasure at hearing his father so praised.

"I might feel impassioned enough to compose a poe...", a grin plastering his face as both Nekir and Lucian paled before both said at the same time in not so quite a desperate voice, "Oh, no no thats okay, really don't!", the grin erupting into laughter seeing the two young people blush at the same time.

For a moment while Jon's laughter faded, Nekir with some dignity restored as Lucia in turn gazed down a ways to the Drunken Huntsman, "I thank you Jon, I wish at times that your wisdom was heeded more often then your brother's.", for a moment Jon's expression darkened before clearing, an almost wistful smile gracing his lips, "My fault was trying to stay out of everything back then, it was to my sorrow and shame that I thought myself so far removed.", reaching out both hands to grasp the two young people's shoulders, "I just hope I can at least advise and watch your generation correct the mistakes we foolish elders made in our pride.", with that he turned around to enter the shop behind him, pulling his book from the pocket he had placed it within.

Shaking her head ruefully, as she reached over to punch Nekir's arm-soon regretting the action as her knuckles were almost covered by supple leather didn't really win against rigid hard steel-wiggling her hand, an eye glaring towards Nekir who was trying his best not to laugh, and in Luccia's personal oppinion failing utterly. The two of them started walking side by side, each thinking their own thoughts for awhile as they passed several town's people, the occasional guard saluting Nekir and bowing towards Lucia for though she started out as a street urchin she had become almost a noblewoman within Whiterun-partly because of her father but also the young woman had grown to possess the same qualities that made her father so loved now.

As always when they passed her old home, Cynthia was of course sitting in her chair, she felt sorry she couldn't have done more for her father's closest ally but give her home over to the maim woman, a white cloth tied around her horribly scarred eyes. Yet, despite her handicap somehow she always knew when Lucia was near, telling her one time it was that aura that surrounded her that reminded the former warrior so much of her father.

"Hail Nekir, and little lady I have been waiting forever for you. Do you know what time it is, and look at the sun, its nearly late afternoon. Oh and yes dinner will be ready for you when you two get back, I am assuming the young Jarl will be staying again.", with that said Cynthia placed the sword she had been cleaning-Cynthia's eyes widening somewhat at seeing it was the skyforged steel sword that her father gave to Cynthia all those years ago-strange I thought she had lost that during, for a moment her eyes clouded up in memory of the night Cynthia and Hiss Upon the Air had returned to Whiterun battered from some battle to tell her that her father and Aunt Rosaria had vanished.

For a moment Lucia felt those decade old tears start to well up in her eyes, yet the tough of Nekir placing his hand upon her shoulder helped drive back the cloud that had almost enveloped her. Turning her gaze towards Nekir, a wan smile upon her lips-for she lost her father that day and Nekir lost his hero figure as well for in his yes Lucia saw the understanding of shared loss. Sighing, her hand reaching up to lie upon Nekir's, though that memory was sad it was also a memory where two lonely children found each other.

"I know, I know Cynthia, Divines how do you do it I mean me well that's a given but how did you know it was Nekir and that it was nearly evening.", shaking her head in mock wonderment, feeling Nekir's hand falling from her shoulder. Voice copying the tone if not the tenor of her voice with his own, "Of course she will figure out it was you Lucia, I mean Divines you literally bathe in lavender so its no wonder she can pin point you but come on with my new armor and robe now that is a better question.", grinning as his eyes playfully tease Lucia who had gone suddenly red, of course the next thing out of Nekir's mouth was a yelp as Lucia's foot found his shin.

As Nekir bent down to rub his shin, and though Lucia's foot throbbed she thinking it was quite worth it in the end. Cynthia meanwhile leaned back into her chair, a fond smile curving her lips, it was nice to hear these moments, and though she lacked her sight in the end it was a small price to pay. "Well, Children, to answer you its all about experience, and a very good nose.", grinning though she did at least say a part truth, but she thought them knowing of her beast blood was a bit to much. Besides its not like its lying if they never ask how my scent of smell is so good, her lips forming a rueful smile.

Sighing in feign frustration Lucia's eyes glimmer with amusement, "Fine, fine fine I wear to much lavender and Nekir has such a strong smell that it over powers anything else.", the laught hovering within her words

"Say hear, I do not smell, I mean yes I smell now but-but thats because I just ran from Dragonreach in heavy armor and a robe for Divine's sake.", sputtering for a few seconds, which added more to Lucia's amusement before subsiding, a shake of his head before muttering, "At least I don't often smell bad."

To be truthful Nekir really didn't smell that bad Lucia thought, he rarely ever did having become obessed with bathing regularly and wearing scented oils, to be honest Lucia found that one of his more endearing mannerisms, the other one that made her heart skip a beat was his almost unquestionable kindness towards everyone. Though she would never admit that to anyone, and most of all to him.

Tutting to herself softly, Cynthia twisted her head towards the gate of Whiterun's inner city, "Well enough of you two's lollygagging, and get, get before it gets any darker and you miss the lighting of the statue ceremony. Or must I get up and chase you all the way there like I use to when you were younger, I still swing a mean broom upon the backsides of lazy younger's like yourself.", though her voice was merry, Cynthia's expression was deadly serous, she would chase them with a broom to get them moving.

With mock noises of horror the two decided to depart before the blind woman made good on her threat, both remembering how smartly her whacks were with that broom. Each grinning fondly as their minds thought of the former shield sister of the Dragonborn, though for them she was more an aunt that would on occasion allow them to sneak sweet rolls. So for the moment they were both content to walk in silence, of course Nekir due to some private jest decided to open the gate into the outer city of Whiterun while giving Lucia a bow. While others might have thought that was quaint, only Nekir saw the straining mouth of Lucia who was desperately was trying to bite back some form of insult. It also didn't help that as she walked by Nekir was grinning like an idiot.

Out of the corner of her mouth, though her eyes remained straight forward, and her smile perfect, "I am soooooo getting you back for that stunt, Oh mister gallant."

Grinning from ear to ear, eyes glittering with suppressed amusement Nekir managed to reply without bursting out into laughter-a truly impressive feat, "Oh I know, but till then I get to see my little sweet street urchin stew. Perhaps I should tell...", sidestepping the kick that Lucia aimed at the back of his knee, years of avoiding that particular attack has made him quite a master. "Braith all about it later."

As they passed through the huge residential area that encircled the old city of Whiterun, signs of the former guard towers and walls now artfully incorporated in a person's house, or a small business. Lucia growling with frustration, fighting the urge to do something dreadful to Nekir at the moment let out an explosive breath, "Curse myself to Sherogath's realm for ever telling Braith of all people Braith that I thought it would be sweet if you treated me like a princess. And curse you to what ever realm of Obivilion that people such as you go for taking so much enjoyment from teasing a person.", puffing her cheeks out before letting her head lower wearily, "How many times has that been now...for I know curse you have been keeping count."

Smiling, teeth gleaming in the light, "Lucia you wound me, like I would ever consider counting how times I have gotten you with that moment of weakness.", lowering his head slightly so Lucia could hear better, "That would be the two hundred and seventy-eighth time I have opened that gate for you in particular, now we can also include..", with a dash Nekir pulled away from Lucia in time before she could get her hands around his neck to throttle him. With a growl of frustration, to Divines with dignity she was going to throttle that skeever in a very fond way her mind made a point to include as she took after Nekir who had apparently regained his stamina to run in full armor.

So as the larger population of Whiterun look on as the son of a Jarl and the daughter of a hero ran through the cobbled stones. Guards on their patrols through the extension of Whiterun shook their heads, though they have thrown the two into jail for their antics-actually in some circles it was encouraged to put into their thick heads that two people of such import should have some dignity-none of them could keep up with the two, years of running in some form of armor having made them too fast for easy life guards to chase after.

Cynthia would have been proud, the two reached the statue that was build upon the remains of the old western guard tower way before the lightening ceremony.

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With a grateful sigh, Lucia leaned against the rock that was thought to have been the same rock the Dragonborn had perched upon when arriving at the site of the first Dragon attack on Whiterun. Both her chest and leg muscles were burning, though she wore only a steel breast plate and the rest supple dark brown leather, it was still a long distance to run as she reached up to push back her sweat drenched hair. The sound of a heavier armored figure moving up before leaning against the same rock with one hand, a coy smile curving her lips, "I won...by the way...why were we racing again?"

Coughing lightly, Nekir reached up to unclasp the heavy robe of Mara, letting the garment slide down to the ground before twisting around to lean his back against the same rock that Lucia was resting again, "Honestly, I forgot why." Laughing weakly, though he knew why but it was a given that Lucia would forget the reason entirely why, its probably why Nekir thought wryly that she had yet gotten him back for those moments. "I take it I am buying the next Black-Briar mead again."

Grinning, eyes lightening up upon hearing the name of her favorite mead, "Damn straight rich boy.", laughing heartily as she straighted up slightly to rest her weight upon her hands pressed against the rock to stare forward.

With a shake of his head, bemusement tinging his voice, "I think you got that wrong, you are by far richer than me in terms of personal wealth, I am just a poor Jarl with a rich city to manage.", twisting around to rest his armored back side against the rock, a hand reaching over to flick a finger against the steel of Lucia's breast plate, a pure clang coming from the finely made piece of armor.

Tilting her head to the side, honey brown eyes shining, "Don't give me that, I know full well ever since you convinced the city the merits of sponsoring the Bannered Mare for guests of the Jarls to stay in Saadia has been giving you free food and drink. And oh ho, my riches was given to me for safe keeping till my father returns...if he ever does.", the merriment fading from her voice, an almost pensive silence following after.

Turning her head to gaze at her father's statue the people of Whiterun had built for her father, too celebrate the day he was seen as the Dragonborn of legend. Unlike what most people who know Nords would think, the statue depicting her father wasn't some the common statue found in skyrim that was unlike him, a heroic stance striding forth into battle, a warrior calling forth all to step forward who opposed him. No she thought to herself, this statue was more like the man she lovely called papa, the man that came out of nowhere to give her a home but most importantly the hope for a future.

Ironic she thought, in some ways Skyrim and herself were alike in regards to this particular man, that he came out of nowhere to give both hope when none was looked for.

Eyes lifting to gaze at the statue, a giant that paled in comparison to the real man, but at least it didn't lie about who he was underneath the stories and legends that had grown from his deeds. For the man depicted by the statue was one bending a knee, head lifted up to gaze at the sky. His helm placed down at his foot, armored in the armor of a Dawnguard warrior, arms lifted up holding his sword, the famous Draedic blade Dawnbreak. Lucia was told that the depiction was based on how her father bent a knee to the two warring factions, General Tullius and Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm he bent his knee to both of them asking to cease this war and look beyond their own pride as he himself had done.

"And so the Dragonborn looked towards these two leaders, a silent question hanging in the air, are they fighting for themselves or are they fighting to protect Skyrim. Will they set aside their own fights in order to fight something that is greater than they are, nay even greater than their own beliefs. For as Tulluis and Uflric looked upon that blade they realized that by taking that blade, they were taking up the Dragonborn's sole fight, realization dawning upon them that this man has let go of his own pride to ask help from them to help him, to help Skyrim. For each man they caught a glimpse of their future, both were physically shaken when they each reached out and made a pledge to all who were present, that they would protect Skyrim above all else."

Falling silent Nekir's voice fading into the night, Lucia had found herself smiling at the young man's reciting of what occurred during that famous treaty where her father asked help from those two leaders. As they went into their thoughts, the two watched as four mages from the College took up their positions around the base of the statue, they were honoring both the Dragonborn and a man who had also helped their college grow for instead of centering power upon himself he had split it evenly among three of his closest friends within the college who had opened the door for many to learn magic. Of course Lucia thought wryly most Nords still viewed it was with distrust but since a Nord was an arch-mage as well they could at least stomach having some of their children sent who had a talent in magic.

Brilliant streams of colored flames leaped up to whirl around the statues base, green, blue, red and yellow, wrapping around the figure of the man before collecting near his mouth before blowing away to slowly form into three words. Fus Ra Doh, Lucia couldn't help but smirk that they had to of course go with the very first shout her father had mastered, though one he used often enough that it had almost come as a signature of his Lucia reluctantly admitted.

As the mages withdrew, magicka flowing into the brilliantly lit words to keep them burning for an hour as the assembled bards started up the music, faintly at first but getting stronger from the city behind them voices could heard singing, Here the Dragon Born Comes. A smile forming on her lips as she stared up at the sky that was losing its battle to night, she always enjoyed this part of the ceremony for it could last up to an hour as people sung their thanks for her father. From the pit of her stomach she felt the warmth of pride for her father, and knowing that what he did was not forgotten that she could share the same feeling she felt when he told her she had a home, to share it with the people of Skyrim as well.

Closing her eyes, she let herself drown in those feelings and as always that sliver of pain once more pricked her, tears welling beneath her lids before falling to gently splash upon her steel breast plate. "I-I miss him so-so much, so much it hurts to think of him...and Aunt Rosaria, to-to wait...", choking on her grief that seemed as fresh as the night she found out that they vanished. "Every time, I hear this song...I-I think that he will come over that hill from Riverwood, Aunty Rosaria doing that high pitched laugh of hers and him shaking his head at what ever crude joke she had told. Then Cynthia would frown at the two of them, muttering beneath her breath about damn blood suckers, while Hiss Upon the Air would just nod his head and wait.", sniffling Lucia look towards the statue of her father with tear blurred eyes, "I miss those times so much...", falling silent as she cried, at least she thought she wasn't trembling anymore.

Sitting quietly, Nekir closed his own eyes, a single tear falling from him, unlike Lucia who had lost a father and an aunt and all those moments that could never be, Nekir lost a hero that showed him so much and he regretted that he could not learn more from the man who had saved him from the Whispering Lady. What can one do to pay back that debt but to remain steadfast by the man's only kin if it was only in name, not counting his own personal feelings towards Lucia. Wrapping an arm around Lucia's shoulder before drawing her close, it was a time honored routine, and one he was always glad to perform, "Tell me about him Lucia...I only knew him for...for a short while."

Sniffling, a grateful smile curving her lips as she rested her head against Nekir's chest, though uncomfortable it allowed her to hear his heart beat. A long time ago when she was young, Cynthia had told her that it was better to tell his story as much as possible to cement his memory so he could still live beside her if only in memory. It will always hurt, she thought to herself but by keeping him close it allows that wound to heal knowing his story, telling his story.

A tiny breath before breaking away from Nekir's grasp, though she would have liked to remain it was easier to tell a story without her face so close to a metal chest. "Hmm...do you want me to start at the beginning Nekir.", though her voice was still light from her sorrow, there was a strength that was coming back to it as she asked Nekir tenatively about where to start.

"The beginning, lets start at the beginning...", turning his head, his smile encouraging.

Nodding her, for a moment Lucia took a deep breath to compose herself before letting her eyes gaze at the dusk tinged sky, "My father would tell his story as he held me, I think part of him wanted to remind himself of the type of person he was...but I think deep down, I think he wanted at least one person to know the truth that was beneath the Dragonborn. That he was nothing but a man at the start, and it was...it was the journey and the people he came into contact with, including an adorable street urchin who asked him for a single coin.", smiling to herself, honey brown eyes gazing up at the statue's brilliantly lit face, "With all good stories this one starts with a man in a cart.."