The next chapter. It's time to get going with this story now. I just want to say one thing: review! Just put down one word, or you never know. Ulster may come and tell you that that new game you were saving for is actually his because your father sacrificed all his money when he went to Australia. You never know…

Anyway, the thanks to those without accounts. To Delphine hater, thanks for the review! This is a great time period and as for your request, I can't promise anything. Sorry. (Also, what does cla ICU's mean?) To Jasmine R. Evans, thanks for the Story Follower! To Badger2430, thanks for the and Story favourite and Story Follower as well! To Seax, thanks for the Story Favourite! To CupNoodleSoup, thanks for the Story Follower. To Tyr'amun, thanks for the Story favourite. Thanks to all you guys and of course those I've already sent PM messages to. By the way, General 77, if you're reading this, I've sent you PM messages. Check your mailbox! Anyway, review guys!

Part I

Eleven Years Later

Idgrod, the Younger

She woke, sweating. Night air still poured through her open window, but the heir to Morthal didn't feel comfortable. It had just happened again; the dream.
Idgrod didn't dream, except for when it was the dreams. She got out of her bed and walked to the window, which looked down on Morthal's main square.
She studied the town, as she was prone to do in her more restless moments, as she did now. It was quiet as always; Morthal had never been the most prosperous capital of the Hold's. Only a dog's bark broke the silence and Idgrod sunk back into a chair by the window. She didn't know what she was waiting for; shadows on horse, thundering through a town? They never came. She wasn't sure she wanted them to come, but it still dominated her restless hours, and she couldn't shake it. Not now, not ever.
Idgrod pulled a sleeping fur over her black shift and snuggled into the chair, letting the warmth insulate her in a tight cocoon. She began to reflect on her dream as she always did in a vain attempt to understand it. It had shown a dark field and on it a dragon, massive and silver, surrounded by dark hunters. It tried to fight back, but eventually a spear was thrust through its heart, killing it with a great roar that had shook the field and woken Idgrod with a start.
She had no idea what it meant, or if it was actually important. While it was true that the dragons had returned some ten years before, she couldn't see how the death of one affected her. Perhaps it signalled the end of the dragons forever? That would certainly rock Tamriel. After all, dragons had always existed, if not physically, but the real death of them would be felt. Still, that didn't seem right and Idgrod put aside the niggling thought.
Light was beginning to crack through the darkness and she estimated that it was only an hour or so until light. In Skyrim, light and darkness came and went quickly.
Idgrod tried to get back to sleep but as with all of her 'dreams' she found it difficult after one of them. Her vision became a little darker in an imitation of sleep, but she felt too 'alive', like she was ready to fight an entire army by herself. Idgrod had once tried to burn off the energy by walking around Morthal. She hadn't told her mother of course. If she had found out that Idgrod had been walking around the town, then the guards posted by her door would have been increased and a patrol sent around the hall. She could get past them if she wanted, but it was easier to keep her mother out of her dream… problems.

That said her Mother was normally very good when it came to their families… unique abilities. In any case, no matter what Idgrod did she still stayed charged with energy and it made it impossible to actually get back to sleep. So instead Idgrod resigned herself to a another lost night.

When morning did finally come, Idgrod pushed off the furs and stretched, her body stiff after sitting in an uncomfortable position for such a long time. She quickly moved to her dresser and changed into a dark green dress, made of a soft silk. She pulled on high, elegant leather boots and supple gloves. She even attached a bronze handled dagger to her belt. She was going out today, and therefore needed to set some kind of impression for the smallfolk.

She came down the steps and into the dining room of Highmoon Hall. It was set off to the right of the main throne room and contained the steps to the upstairs living quarters and bedrooms. In comparison it was modest, even austere, compared to the great chambers of The Palace of Kings or Dragonsreach, but as opposed to the homes of most Hjaalmarch Nords, it was a castle. The dining room was large, with a long table in the middle covered by a mint green cloth, threaded with black, the colours of Morthal. Bronze candlestick holders lined the walls.

Idgrod took her seat on her Mother's left, while her Father, Alsfur, took his seat on her right as her Steward and husband. Her brother, Joric, wasn't present. I didn't expect him to be, she reflected gloomily. Her brother also had 'dreams' but he was far less adept at controlling them.

Her Mother, Jarl Idgrod of Clan Ravencrone, sat at the head in an elegant seat, one of the few luxuries they had. Her black hair, like Idgrod's own, was heavily streaked with grey but then she was already in her fifties, an old woman by Tamriel standards, having given birth to Idgrod herself very late, in her thirties at least. It was likely that she wouldn't survive another winter. But then she might; Mother always surprised them. Her pale skin was heavily wrinkled, and she sat hunched in her chair. Her voice also had a scratch to it, but she still insisted on ruling the Hold without Idgrod or Alsfur's help.

She was talking now. 'Idgrod, what do you plan today?' she asked as she started on her breakfast.

The younger Idgrod was careful not to give too much of her plans away, or Mother might forbid it. Although it was easy to get past her, but Gorm, her Housecarl, was trickier. As Housecarl he was one of the best Carl's, (the equivalent of a medieval Knight) in the Hold, and he was sworn to protect the Jarl and her family. This, it seemed, also included curbing Idgrod's rebellious nature.

'I planned to go into town, Mother.' Idgrod told her carefully.

'You're in town. Why go anywhere else?' Her Mother's eyes focused on her intently.

'Er, I wanted to see a friend.'

The Jarl considered it. 'Maybe. Who is it?'

'Just a friend.'

'Just a friend,' her Mother echoed to Alsfur, who was also watching intently.

'I'm not sure, Illy. It might be dangerous.' 'Illy' was her Father's stupid name for his little girl. Normally she complained, but now she needed something so she didn't say anything.

'It's just a friend.' They kept their gaze on her. 'Fine, I was going to see Djurien.' They sank back. Djurien was the son of a respected Carl, his father having fought in several wars and raids, including the Civil War on the Empire's side under the direct command of Jarl Stormcloak, or so he boasted. Idgrod was sceptical, after all not just anyone served the Dragonborn, but Djurien was chivalrous, true and understanding. Idgrod knew that her parents were thinking succession, and Djurien was the perfect match for the heir to Hjaalmarch.

'Fine. It sounds good to me. Be careful though. Do you want a guard?' her Mother asked.

'I'll manage.' Idgrod told her, icily. Her Mother leaned back, judging whether that had been a direct attack on her, but she decided to let it pass.

Idgrod quickly finished and rushed out to the sharp, early morning air. Morthal's main square wasn't much of one. It was muddy and wet, but the road that led through it was well lit by torches at night. The main town sprawled off to Idgrod's left, a mass of buildings which eventually led to the bridge that spanned Hjaal River.

Idgrod exited the longhouse and made her way to the stables, where a groom was already saddling her horse. She thanked him with a smile before pulling herself up gracefully and guiding it out into the main square of Morthal. It was a bleak day, as always, and the clouds were heavy overhead, adding to her already troubled mind. The dream still had her on edge, and it was hard to shake the feeling that she had just seen something important, even if she didn't understand it.

She started riding through the town, making for a small farm on the outskirts of town where Djurien's family lived. As she rode, Idgrod took a closer look around Morthal. It was a large town, as they go, but smaller than somewhere such as Falkreath. Marshland surrounded it, and many of the sturdy houses were built above small patches of the stuff. As a result, stone was rarely seen, and the main road through the town was little more than a glorified mud track. It left Idgrod with an annoyed, embarrassed feeling, but at the moment there was little she could do. Even when she did become Jarl, it was going to be difficult, as Hjaalmarch wasn't known as the most economically developed of the Holds. Even so, she had big plans after her succession. She could turn this hold into one of the greatest in all of Skyrim with the right touch.

Her horse trekked up the hill that was located on Morthal's south side and out of the town. The air was even worse here, if that was possible, but going south led to the richer farmlands of the Holds. Not good farmlands, but richer. Idgrod made way for the peasants who were trekking towards Morthal. She didn't see the point of hurting people who were already under enough hardship; her being on a horse already made it obvious who was in charge. Horses were a fairly rare commodity in Morthal.

Djurien's house wasn't that far from the town, only a good twenty minutes. They actually owned a 'town house', little more than a glorified shack, in Morthal, but for obvious reasons they preferred to live at their farm.

The place itself had been given to Djurien's father after his service years ago and the estate was now passed down from father to son. The rank they belonged to was 'landed Carl', where the Carl promised to fight for the Jarl, in this case directly, as opposed to through one of the Thanes that they lived under, as was more common. Djurien was training to become a Carl, but until then he helped his father and their sparse servants in tilling their salty ground. That said, it was one of the better patches so close to Morthal.

As Idgrod rode closer she saw Djurien in the field, as she had predicted, tilling the earth. He was dressed in a light white shirt and dark breeches with bare feet. His shock of light blond hair was cut fairly short, but strands still fell across his face as he worked, and his powerfully muscled body moved under his shirt. Idgrod allowed herself a moment to admire the site before moving closer.

'Djurien, are you ready to go?'

He looked up through narrow eyes. 'Idgrod?' He looked around, before nodding. 'I could do with a break.' Without further ado he made his way to the main house, a little distance away. Idgrod followed on her horse.

Djurien glanced up at her. 'Make me walk, eh?'

Idgrod smiled down at him. 'Of course not.' With a quick movement she dismounted and started leading her horse.

With a smile, Djurien started talking. 'So, we've managed to save the last of the grain from the rains. You know what it does to the marshland,…'

Idgrod nodded, listening intently. Djurien knew more than he should about farming, and made it seem more interesting than it was. A perfect mix in her opinion. He entered the house, and she followed, looking around. Djurien's father, Lars, came round the corner. He too, like his son, was a powerfully built man, his own light blond hair turning almost imperceptibly to grey slowly.

Lars inclined his head. 'My Lady, it is a pleasure. May I ask your purpose?'

Idgrod smiled. 'I'm only here for your son,' she assured him. 'Taxes aren't due for another month.'

Lars looked relieved, and his expression of distaste was replaced with a look of satisfaction, which he tried to hide. 'Right, of course.' He turned to find his son. 'Get out here, the Jarl's daughter is waiting for you!'

Djurien appeared with tough leather boots, a long coat that reached to his shins and a longsword by his side. 'No need to rush me, Father, she will be serviced eventually.'

Despite herself, Idgrod blushed, but Lars looked annoyed. 'Enough of your tongue, my boy. This is the Jarl's daughter.'

He shrugged. 'They all look the same to me.' Djurien glanced at her. 'No offence, of course.'

'None taken.' She knew that Djurien was just doing this to annoy his father. He wasn't always so caviar.

'Let's go then, my Lady.' He took two bows from the side of the house and a bunch of arrows. He led her from the house and round it, into the woods facing its back.

They often went hunting together. Djurien was a good shot, and it gave Idgrod the time needed to clear her mind after living in Highmoon Hall. Also, she had found that the other Nord made good company, and she found him easy to talk to.

They started off slowly, shooting casually. Naturally Djurien got the only kill, on a young buck, and he had it on his back as they strolled through the woods now. Suitably isolated, Idgrod felt like she could open up to him.

'My brother's getting worse.' Idgrod was referring to Joric, her younger brother.

'How is he?' Djurien was a good listener, and never said anything impatient when talking with her.

'Joric's been in bed for five days now. We keep him inside, but I think the townspeople are beginning to wonder.'

'Screw 'em, them.' He hit a bird, but he didn't pick it up. The deer was enough.

Idgrod smiled again. 'It's not fair on them, really. They deserve a strong, able leader.'

Djurien turned to face her, putting his hands on her shoulders. 'You will make a great Jarl. You have all those plans with, you know, those things…'

'You mean the farming techniques,' Idgrod suggested, saving him.

'Right, of course, those. You know, they'll be great. This Jarldom will rival Whiterun soon.'

'I think we might find out soon whether that will actually prove true.'

Djurien looked concerned. 'What do you mean?'

'Mother's getting worse as well.'

The other Nord thought carefully, before looking back down at her. 'Is that a bad thing?'

Idgrod thought carefully. 'Maybe not…'

'It may be heartless, but I think the Jarldom would be alright if she died. You are the breath of fresh air it needs.'

'Do you think you so?'

Djurien's face softened. 'Yes.'

Idgrod nodded and they broke apart. The son of a Carl picked up his bow. 'Anyway, when you become Jarl, I get to marry you,' he joked.

'Yeah,' she agreed absently. It was a joke between them, sprung from their parent's naked ambitions, but honestly, would it be so bad to marry Djurien? The answer was obvious; she would love to, and she already knew that he thought the same. It was too many times she has caught him staring at her hungrily, and he enjoyed their talks far too much anyway.

'I guess we ought to get back,' he told her.

'Yes, of course.' They started trudging back, Djurien talking about when he was going to become a Carl, while Idgrod listened, thinking absently about her family. The other Nord had it easier than he realised.

They said their goodbyes, and Idgrod rode back to Morthal, lost in thought again. Normally Mother was quite good at helping her through her visions, but she didn't want to talk to her at the moment. It seemed, however, that that was not going to be possible. She was waiting for Idgrod when she got back.

'I have news,' she said without preamble, holding a letter at she sat in her throne. Her big Housecarl, Gorm, stood in the shadows silently.

'And,' Idgrod asked slowly, as he crossed the room, unwillingly to talk to her mother right now.

'The King is calling all the Jarls to Whiterun.'

'Indeed,' she said again, uncertain now.

'I want you to go in my place.'

'Me!' Idgrod was taken aback. 'Why me?'

'I'm too old to go tramping around Skyrim now. You are my Heir,' she reminded her daughter angrily.

'Yes, of course. So, you want me to go?'

'Aye,' she agreed irritably. 'You'll be gone at least two months. Say your goodbyes, my daughter and pack up. You're going to meet the King.'

And like that, she was going to court.

The end was a little weird, but oh well. The next chapter is going to feature one of my favourite POV's, so it should be good. Please review, it's how I survive. Let's really get this story loads of reviews!