Disclaimer: All settings and characters sans Lisabeta are property of Bethesda, as are the loose plot points.

Author's Note: Ah, nothing as divisive in the fandom as that age-old question: Stormcloak or Imperial. But that aside, one of my favorite people is, oddly enough, Hadvar. I felt in game that he took on this sort of mentoring role with my Dragonborn, perhaps in part due to guilt for not being able to keep her from the executioner. Some people have reported him making comments that were not as kind as I present here, but to be honest I never experienced him being a jerk in any of my playthroughs. In other words, no flames because you don't like the way I elaborated on his character; you're experience with him may have been different than mine. Anyhow, read on!

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Though it had taken nearly a year, construction on Lakeview Manor was finally complete. What had begun as a simple one-room cabin on land purchased from Jarl Sidgeir evolved into a sprawling home with guest bedrooms, an outdoor patio, a massive kitchen, and a trophy room as Lisabeta collected sufficient funds for the construction. This was to be a place to invite and house guests, especially her family across the border in Bruma. She had hoped they would be the first to grace the manor with their presence, but they were not free to take leave from the Count and Countess for another month.

She was not content to sit there alone though, not in that huge place, not when there should be a celebration. Rayya did not count, as wonderful as the loyal housecarl was. Instead, she invited the next closest people she could think of when it came to family: Alvor, Sigrid & Dorthe. They were the ones that got her back on her feet when all she had were the rags on her back and a few scavenged odds and ends from Helgen's keep. They fed her. They gave her shelter. Dorthe begged to hear her stories about the dragon. Sigrid helped her find some suitable clothes for travel. Alvor even showed her how to use the forge and make repairs to her gear. The family would say they did nothing, as she was the one who helped save Hadvar and delivered the plea for aid to the ears of Jarl Balgruf, but she didn't buy that.

Sadly, Hadvar was no longer recovering with his aunt and uncle in Riverwood. The Imperial soldier was back in Solitude resuming his post, and would not be there to share in her triumph, something she very much wished. She knew she owed a great deal to him, and despite their rocky beginning, she considered him the older brother she never had. She could trust him with anything, and could always count on him for good advice. Once her guests left, she would have to write him a letter. Maybe even draw him a map of her manor!

Alvor's family arrived by noon, not having a far travel from Riverwood to Lakeview. Sparing no expense, she had hired a carriage driver to take them the distance in addition to picking up Lucia and Lydia from Whiterun. When they arrived, lunch was already spread across the great table in the dining room: buttered mudcrab legs, vegetable stew, elk venison, cheeses, breads, and naturally sweetrolls. The adults were presented with Spiced Wine from Solitude, and Lisabeta and the girls enjoyed fresh milk. The Imperial was proud to say most of the food on the table had been provided by her own hand, game hunted, vegetables grown in the garden, milk from her cow. It somehow made the hospitality even more real. Only one thing was wrong.

"Lydia! Rayya! Stop hovering and come take a seat!"

"But, my Thane…" Lydia began.

Lisabeta cut her off. "This meal is to celebrate. You are as much a part as anyone. Come and join us at the table!" Housecarls were sworn to obey, so grudgingly they took a seat alongside the other guests.

When the meal was done, the tour began. There was a lot for the girls to admire, treasures in each display case. Lisabeta had a story for each object, but if she told them all, they'd be there for weeks. She simply smiled and told what each object was, very pleased that she was creating a museum to rival the collection of the Count and Countess of Bruma! The tour ended upstairs in front of a battered suit of Stormcloak armor displayed on a mannequin. Alvor was of course very interested.

"Lisabeta, I've noticed all your other pieces were in pristine condition, but this is the only item that is in disrepair. Is there a reason for it?"

"Very much so." She paused. "Lucia, why don't you and Dorthe go play? I left a few surprises in your bedroom…" Her adopted daughter's eyes grew bright as she and her "cousin" scurried off to find whatever was hiding. The Dragonborn chuckled and returned her attention to her remaining guests. "They don't need to hear this story." Suddenly, her face became somber. "It's a story about the first life I ever took."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

As she stumbled in behind Hadvar, he quickly shut the heavy door behind them. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to her. "Here, let's get these bindings off." With surprising gentleness, he took her wrists and pulled out his dagger, slicing through the ropes until they fell to the ground. All the while, she attempted to read his face, hoping to judge the sincerity of his actions. "Are you all right?"

"That's a funny thing to say to someone who was about to lose her head…" Lisabeta frowned, rubbing her wrists.

Hadvar looked down again, rubbing the back of his head. "I…I know how bad that looked. It was not the army's finest moment. With the Thalmor breathing down our necks and the leader of the rebellion in our grasp, I'm sure the higher ups wanted to purge everything that resembled the enemy without trial. It was wrong, but one word and I'd be court-martialed, maybe even called out for treason."

She growled. "The joys of the military. No independent thinking allowed."

He looked up with a new fire in his hazel eyes. "Look, I didn't join up with them to lose my sense of self. I just wanted to help keep the empire united and strong, which was my way of standing up for my ideals. I guess I shouldn't expect an Imperial like you to understand what was at stake here in Skyrim."

She was taken aback. That was the most defiant he had been all day… Sighing, she scratched her head. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm far from home, I was randomly caught in the middle of another province's conflict, I'm alone, and I don't know how to fend for myself. I nearly died, and I watched an entire village get decimated by a fire-breathing reptile. It's been the worst day of my life and I'm feeling irritable. Granted your day hasn't been a cakewalk either. You made sure to look out for me once things went haywire out there, and I should be thanking you. No one else worried about some prisoner in the middle of the attack…"

"Hmph. I'm not done yet." He folded his arms. "You and me, we are going to get out of here. I'll make sure of it; it's the least I can do after what you have been through by our hands. Besides, clearly the gods are not ready for you to die. Now, there should be some extra gear around here. You should find some armor and a weapon, just in case. I don't suppose you've ever wielded a sword, have you?"

She shook her head weakly. "I…was always one for the books myself."

"Anyhow, it doesn't matter. If we run into something, I'll do most of the work fighting it off. I just want you to have something as a last line of defense. Got it, Lisabeta?"

Upon hearing her name, she gave a genuine smile. He HAD been listening. "Yes, sir."

He held up a hand. "Call me Hadvar."

"All right, Hadvar."

"You go do that, and I'll find something to take care of these burns." It had been hard to see in the dim light of the glowing embers in the lamps, but when she squinted, she could see blistering, discolored skin on his arms. What she wouldn't give for training in the school of restoration at this moment…

After a few minutes of rummaging through the storage chests in the keep, Hadvar found a soothing ointment and Lisabeta had found a set of light Imperial armor that remotely fit her, as well as a simple iron sword. It was heavy and clumsy in her grasp, and even though it was meant to be a one-handed weapon, it took two to control it properly.

"All set?" Hadvar asked, finding the gate activation pull.

"One more thing. If there is anything I know, it is that preparation is key." She held out an old soldier's pack she had found. "I intend to carry off anything of use we find in here. I'm sure no one is going to miss it at the moment." She then preceded to pack a pair of wooden bowls, a pair of dull metallic tankards, and a book.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, always good to be prepared I guess. Just don't let it slow you down, or it will be more hindrance than help." Then he opened the door. "Let's go. I've been in here a few times before, and I think I have an idea of how to reach the exit out of town towards Riverwood."

On the way, they encountered many things, things that told her volumes about her new companion. For starters, they stumbled upon rebels, but instead of launching an attack, Hadvar decided to try reasoning with them. With his weapons sheathed and his hands raised he announced his arrival to the soldiers in the next room, making a plea for assistance. They didn't even let him finish his sentence before drawing swords and moving in for the kill. Despite his desire for a peaceful resolution, Hadvar proved to be no slouch in combat as he single-handedly finished off the pair before they could finish him. She held back, letting him handle the fighting as he had promised, and only when the Stormcloaks fell to his blade did she emerge.

"Wow Hadvar, you really know how to fight, don't you?" she marveled, biting her lip as she looked down at the dead rebels.

He wiped his blade. "It's what soldiers are trained to do. I wish they wouldn't have forced my hand though; I don't enjoy using these skills any more than I have to."

"But you wanted to join up so you could defend your ideals…" she mused, grasping the hilt of her sword.

"Yes. And if I am able to fight, to defend, I can save other people from having to do the same." Upon saying this, he bent down and picked up the hide shield one of the enemies had been carrying. He handed it to her. "Use this. We may have to face more, and they may be just as unreasonable. Defend yourself with this, and if they get close to you…" he paused, demonstrating the technique, "…deflect the blows to the side until I can get there."

"Hadvar…"

He held up a hand to stop her from saying more. "Let's keep moving."

After making their way through a store room with more Stormcloaks, they neared the torture chamber. Hadvar recognized what it was immediately. "Gods, I wish we didn't need these…" He looked visibly appalled, but there was no time to ask further, as the sounds of a scuffle could be heard within. Hadvar burst through the doorway to find a pair of Stormcloaks furiously attacking the head torturer and his assistant. Acting on instinct, the man swooped in and helped put them down, only to hear from the condescending head torturer how upset they had been by his treatment of their friends. Lisabeta looked around the room and noticed the cages containing dead bodies and shivered. It was even worse than dead bodies on a battlefield; these people could not defend themselves, and from what the torturer said, had been put through excruciating agony. And it only amused him. The monster! If Lisabeta had been good with a sword and a more vicious person, and if she thought Hadvar wouldn't strike her down for doing so, she would have slain that creep where he stood for the enjoyment he got out of making others suffer. As it was, all she could do was hope the keep came down on top of him as he refused to leave his post, "dragon" or not.

The assistant, unlike his boss, was more than eager to save his hide and make his escape with them. Before they could go, however, Hadvar pointed out that there were some useful items they might want to grab within the cages if they could be opened. The torturer dryly noted that he had lost the key to the cages a while ago, causing his charges much distress. A wave of nausea hit her again. Ugh, she had to tune him out. Everything he said gave her unnatural urges to slit his throat… Taking a lockpick from the table, she gave it her best shot, pretending she knew what she was doing but in reality only knowing a bit about what to do from books she had read. It took a while, being her first time, but the locks were not too difficult. Having broken a few, she finally twisted the small piece of metal just so until the door unlatched and swung open. She was face to face with a mage's corpse, causing her to pale. Taking a deep breath to steel her resolve, she reached in and plucked a small bottle of healing ointment from him with as little contact as possible as well as a spell tome. She would take no more and disrespect his body. The potion could be justified; they needed it to stay alive where the dead person would not. The book was meant for passing on knowledge. All the same, she whispered a brief prayer to Arkay that his soul may have found Aetherius.

She had to admit with no small degree of guilt that she was pleased when at least the torturer's assistant met his demise at the blades of the Stormcloaks deeper inside the keep despite Hadvar's assistance fending them off. Karma seemed to kick in almost as soon as she had that thought. One of the rebel soldiers noticed her and came rushing at her. Her eyes widened, and she held up her shield as a barrier between her and the enemy's sword. "I'm not here to fight!" she pleaded, but the soldier did not seem to care, driven mad by the frenzy of battle. She was able to block a succession of strikes before her tired arm gave out and she was left wide open. Thinking quickly, she did what the man did not expect and powered by fear, drove her blade upward through her attacker's chest, piercing his armor. Coughing a spurt of blood, he collapsed to the floor, dead. She had killed him.

Once Hadvar finished off the last rebel, he noticed her frozen, standing over the Stormcloak body. The girl was staring at the blood-stained blade in her hands with wide eyes, breathing rapidly. The man sighed; he had been afraid it would come to this, as much as he wished to spare her. Sheathing his own weapon, he walked over to where she was standing. "You had no choice, Lisabeta."

"I know…" she whispered, moving to sheath her own weapon. His rough hand stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"Rule about maintaining your weapons: when you are done, wipe the blood off or it will rust," he said quietly, bending down to rip a piece of the dead man's tunic.

Numbly, she accepted the cloth and wiped her blade. "I don't want to maintain my weapon. Why didn't he stop when I asked? I was not threatening him!" Tears stung her eyes. The whole thing made no sense to her. In her daydreams of adventure, she imagined having to kill some creatures of the wild, undead, or perhaps knocking some bandits out cold. This, this corpse at her feet, she never intended…

She felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "There are men in this world who don't place much value in human lives. They kill without considering guilt or offense. These men were like that; you were simply walking with me and I wore the colors of another army, which was crime enough to condemn you. I pray to the Nine that I never become like them, my sense of right and wrong dulled by bloodlust. The line a soldier walks is a fine one between justified killing and murder." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Once we get out of here, I hope you never need to defend yourself again like this; you've lost enough of your innocence today. But if you do, I pray even more strongly to the Nine that you keep this in mind."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you, Hadvar. Once I get out of this mess, I doubt I will ever have need to pick up a sword, but I will never forget what you told me." She gave a sad smile. "If only all soldiers were like you, or that Stormcloak back in the ambush."

"Hmm?"

She clenched her hands. "He saved my life by blocking the arrows meant for me. He was a good man even though people on the same side as him have been trying kill me rather than save me. Just like you are a good man who protects me even though your side wanted me killed and mocked that man's sacrifice for me. If everyone were like you two, maybe we wouldn't have war at all."

Hadvar gave a short chuckle. "I wish it were that simple too, unfortunately life rarely is. You can only control what you do."

"Right…" Resolutely, she sheathed her sword. "I will only fight if they make it a fight, and if they force the choice between them and me, I'm going to make sure it ends up being me."

"That a girl," Hadvar murmured, nodding in approval. "Are you ready to press on? It shouldn't be much further."

"Just one more thing." Lisabeta knelt down and studied the dead youth's face. He could not have been much older than her, a light smattering of whiskers gracing his chin as if they were his first. Braided blonde hair in the traditional Nord style, green eyes staring blankly into space and expression frozen in shock from the instant she had pierced his heart. She wondered where he was from, if he had family, what he liked to do in his free time. She wondered how a boy like that came to a place like this, attacking anyone who did not wear his colors, even if they were no colors at all. Gently, she closed his eyelids while breathing a prayer to Arkay. He probably would have preferred a prayer to his Nord gods, but this was as good as she could do.

When she was done she began to gently unlace his gauntlets and pull them from his arms, followed by the pierced Stormcloak cuirass and his fur boots. She could feel Hadvar's puzzled gaze upon her. "I won't do this every time, but…I don't ever want to forget this lesson." Deep down, she knew Hadvar would not understand why she needed take the armor from the corpse and haul it around as they tried to escape; she herself was aware that it was completely illogical. Still, the need for closure in this way pulsed with every beat of her aching heart. There were no words.

Feeling guilty about taking it from his dead body, she reached behind her neck and removed the one adornment she had chosen to wear when she left home: her amulet of Mara. In trade for his armor, she fastened it around his neck, knowing full well that even the most traditional of Nords held Mara within their pantheon. May his soul so eager to kill know the calming love of her patron goddess. "Let's go, Hadvar."

Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

When she finished telling the story of the Stormcloak Armor, Alvor and Sigrid were silent at first. "Your nephew really helped me through a dark and trying time. You know, I owe him more than my life for what he did that day. He supported me as I transformed from a girl to a woman. Without him, well, things could have been very different." She reached out her hand and traced the jagged tear in the armor, the one she herself had put there with her own blade.
"We've raised that boy like our own since his folks passed on. To hear you say that, it fills us with pride," Alvor tried to explain, looking to Sigrid who simply nodded. "We used to wonder if joining the army was good for the boy; he had such high ideals, and we all wondered what would happen if he was given an order he disagreed with. He adapted, but it sure gives us peace of mind to know he has not abandoned those ideals even as he serves the Empire."

She shook her head. "No, he serves Skyrim above all, the Empire is merely a tool to do so. And, no, he has not lost his way. I get the feeling that, if the Imperial Army asked him to do something deplorable, he would leave and find a different path. That is why I admire him."

There was a pause. "I know I haven't been willing to commit to either side of the civil war at this point, but as it drags on and more lives are being lost senselessly, I feel the time is coming when I need to step in and pick a side, for all its pros and cons, simply to end this before the Thalmor step in and sweep up what is left. It is as you say, Alvor, the Empire is foolish if they think swearing off Talos will keep them safe from the Aldmeri Dominion. The Stormcloaks are right to be angry at the Empire for it. But if Skyrim breaks off now, they will only be snatched up by the Altmer. It is better to stick together to stand against them. I think…" she paused with a heavy sigh. "I think it is time for me to write Hadvar and tell him I will meet him in Solitude to enroll with the army. I want to protect the people I have come to love while living here. By seeing Hadvar's example, I know that joining up does not necessarily have to corrupt me and what I stand for. I will stand with him and share his dream of a strong, unified Skyrim."