Turdas, 12:31 PM, 4th of Evening Star, 4E 201

Solitude

It took a week to travel to Solitude. It wasn't that far away, but all of Haafingar, everything north of Dragon Bridge, was one big mountain range. They had to go around it. On horseback, thankfully. Thorald doubted he had the strength to walk.

They'd exited the snowy mountains of the far north by now, on to the forests that filled the rest of the hold. The path meandered through tall naked trees. The leaves were all covering the ground. In fact, the path was only visible because there were already hoof prints through it. The first few days, Thorald had been too weak to even talk to his rescuer, but now they were speaking freely.

Idolaf rode alongside Thorald. He looked awfully smart in that Imperial armor of his. "I think we're getting close. I remember Dragon Bridge being southwest of here."

Thorald was wearing a stolen Thalmor robe to stave off the cold. It felt even filthier than the prisoner's rags he still wore beneath. "Why Solitude?"

The Legionnaire glanced at him. "Well, it's a city, for one thing. I'll want someone who knows medicine to look at you. But besides that, it's the Imperial military capital in Skyrim. Castle Dour is there. General Tullius is there."

"You want to bring me to General Tullius," Thorald said flatly. He, the notorious supporter of the Stormcloaks.

"What, you think your stance in the Civil War matters anymore? Skyrim is unified again. If the Stormcloak soldiers are getting away without punishment, they can't punish a Stormcloak sympathizer."

"But why to the General himself?"

"You were in Thalmor custody for almost a year. He might like to hear from you."

"They didn't tell me anything. They just tried to make me admit to supporting the Stormcloaks." And they failed. Thorald allowed himself the pride that came with that knowledge.

"Fortunately, Ulfric Stormcloak is gone."

"Why is that fortunate?"

"Tell me, Thorald. Who was Ulfric Stormcloak to you?"

"A Nord hero." The pride made it into Thorald's voice now. "The Empire failed to protect us, and Ulfric stepped up. He was going to let us all be free. He had an ideal."

"An ideal? Besides that Skyrim is for the Nords?"

"That's…" Thorald winced.

"Ulfric was a pawn," Idolaf spat. "I can't believe how much support he managed to rally. He was a Nord supremacist, but more than that, Thorald, he was a pawn of the Thalmor. They're the reason his rebellion took off."

"And the Talos worship?"

"From what I'm told, it wasn't a problem until he started stirring up trouble. Before that, the Empire was all right just not enforcing it. And then your family started…"

Thorald remained silent.

Idolaf sighed. "Thorald… I had to break you out of there. They were going to leave the fort anyway. They probably would've killed you."

"Then I should have died. Why would you save me?" The Gray-Mane's question came as more of a demand.

"Why wouldn't I? Truly," said the Battle-Born. "I remember a time when our houses were unbreakable allies. When you and I were childhood friends. How could we ever split apart?"

Thorald's voice suddenly raised. "Because you and your family turned on us! Because you would rather bow to the Empire than-"

"No." Idolaf spoke quietly. His friend fell silent. "Because we're weaker apart than together. And our enemies know that. You think no more public Talos worship is a reason to break an ancient bond like our families'?"

"No more public Talos worship?"

"That's right."

"What about that fellow who's always standing around in the Wind District?" Thorald put on a theatrical, pleading voice. "We are but maggots! Writhing in the filth of mortality! But Talos rose from the dung!"

Idolaf snorted with laughter. After a few seconds, Thorald started laughing too. It was no wonder the Thalmor never bothered to stop that man. He'd just help make Talos worship look insane.

"I think the White-Gold Concordat's been thrown out, actually," Idolaf said when they were done. "We could probably worship Talos all we want."

"Aye," Thorald nodded. "But at what cost? I don't mean to offend you, Idolaf, but you were on the side of that ban, no? And now you're saying we're free to do as we please."

"You're wondering what's the catch? Figures. Well, it's nothing big, we're just going to be at war with the Aldmeri Dominion pretty soon, and I thought maybe…"

"What?!"

"Oh, look, it's Solitude."

Sure enough, the city gates were just ahead. At some point, they'd merged onto the cobblestones of the main road, and now it was a straight line. Even from afar, Thorald admired the Nord masonry of the gatehouse. Dark, elegantly carved stone bricks. If it were a bit more snowy and gray here, it could have belonged to Windhelm.

Idolaf swung off his horse and started leading it on foot. "Take off your robes, Thorald. The guards won't take kindly to a man in a Thalmor uniform."

The Nord was only too happy to comply. He tossed the robe off into the trees as he dismounted. Now he was in prisoner's clothing and a pair of odd elven-looking boots, and carrying an obviously elven sword tucked into his shoddy rope belt. Quite an improvement.

Idolaf strode forward to the guards at the gate. They didn't get a chance to comment on his strange follower. "Take these horses to the stables," Idolaf said. "I need to bring this man to General Tullius immediately."

"Yes, sir." One of the two guards led the horses away. The other stood out of the way respectfully as Idolaf and Thorald passed by.

The streets of Solitude were noisy and bustling with the noon crowd. Thorald didn't remember the last time he'd seen this many people. He followed close behind Idolaf. They were getting strange looks. Perhaps the passersby were wondering why Thorald's hands weren't bound. Good question, really.

Castle Dour was at the top of some switchback stairs, past a forge and through a gate. A few men were practicing archery in the main courtyard. They paid him no mind.

The doors to the castle interior were flanked by four guards in full armor. Thorald expected trouble, but Idolaf simply waved to them in greetings and held the door open for him.

It was very gloomy inside Castle Dour. Barely any light made it in through the windows. The ceiling was high, the stone was almost black, the torches helped none. Thorald squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light. This room was mostly empty. "Where's your general?"

Idolaf gestured to an open arch at the end of the room. On the other side, there was a much smaller room, with two figures in Imperial uniform, standing over a table, murmuring to each other in low voices. One was in full plate armor. The other was more lightly protected, helmetless, tanned Imperial skin, short gray hair… Was that him? Thorald had never seen General Tullius before.

"General!" Idolaf stepped forward, beckoning for Thorald to follow, without looking back. "May I have a moment?"

Tullius leaned back from the table and stood upright with a sigh. Just looking at him made Thorald understand why he would end up giving orders. "Certainly, soldier," he answered in a gruff but affable voice. That made sense too. "What is it?"

"Sir, do you remember writing a letter concerning a Thorald Gray-Mane? Captive of the Thalmor."

The Imperial peered past Idolaf and narrowed his eyes. "What is he doing in my castle? Who are you, anyway?"

"Legionary Idolaf Battle-Born, thought you might be interested, sir," Idolaf shrugged. "He spent a year in Thalmor custody. I broke him out when I heard what happened in Windhelm."

"I'd subject you to Imperial court-martial, but at this point I don't think it would matter," Tullius grumbled. "You there. Thorald. Why have you come here?"

Thorald swallowed. He didn't have an answer ready. He'd thought Idolaf would do the talking for him. There was no time to think. He just blurted out the first answer that came into his head. "I want to fight for you!"

Idolaf turned around and stared at him. The armored figure across from Tullius stared too. Thorald instantly regretted his words. "I… I mean, I…"

"You mean you've come here to join the Legion?" the armored figure piped up. Thorald realized the figure was a woman.

"I- I just wanted to help you fight against those that were holding me captive."

Tullius returned his focus to Idolaf. "Legionary, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, sir." Idolaf nodded, glanced back at Thorald once more, and headed off down a staircase to the side.

Thorald suddenly felt painfully out of place. A castle full of well-kept, disciplined Legionnaires, and he was an unwashed prisoner with a stolen sword and odd boots.

Tullius paused for a few long seconds. "You were in the custody of the Thalmor," he said quietly.

"That's correct, General." Thorald Gray-Mane still couldn't believe he was speaking to the General Tullius.

"I see." Another pause. "Go down where your friend Idolaf went, clean yourself up, and then we'll talk."

Twenty minutes later, Thorald was wearing a spare off-duty outfit, looking quite a bit cleaner, his thirst quenched and hunger sated. Tullius had requested his private audience in that room with the big table. That woman in the armor was gone.

It turned out that the table had a giant map of Skyrim on it, complete with little flags on Imperial bases. A couple of wooden chairs stood in the back of the room. Thorald was certain they hadn't been there before.

In any case, Tullius took a seat, and invited the Nord to sit with him. How could he decline? He sat down with this near-mythical general and waited for his verdict.

"It was very kind of Idolaf to extract you," Tullius said. His indoor voice was surprisingly gentle. "Did he do that by himself?"

"Yes, sir," Thorald nodded stiffly.

"Don't call me sir, Gray-Mane, you're not a Legionnaire." That was a little sharper, but Tullius quickly softened his tone again. "That was very brave of him. Some formal commendation may be in order, depending on how things go."

"What things?"

"You were imprisoned for close to a year." That was sidestepping the question. "I can only imagine what the Thalmor tried to do to you."

"Is that so?" The Nord tried not to scowl.

"In the Thalmor dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak, there was an informative description of his capture and interrogation, during the Great War. The Thalmor tried to break him, compromise his will to resist. And by their accounts, they succeeded. He was theirs to use."

So he hadn't sidestepped the question after all. "I can assure you, Tullius, they did not break me. They tried, every day. They wanted me to admit that I supported the Stormcloaks, nothing more."

"Did you support the Stormcloaks?"

Thorald didn't like that use of the past tense. Or that question at all. "… Yes. But I never said so."

"Well, fortunately, all Stormcloak soldiers have been granted amnesty on the condition that they cease their rebellion. Which brings me to the next point. You mentioned you wanted to fight for us, am I right?"

"I'm, I'm not sure why I said that," Thorald chuckled nervously. "The elves might have broken the Jarl of Windhelm, but they didn't break me. And Idolaf… Idolaf killed my interrogator and his escort, and dragged me out of there, on his own. I couldn't repay him by hiding."

"So you'll fight for the Empire?"

"If that's what I must do, then yes."

"Very well, Thorald. Before we proceed, there is an oath all Legionnaires must take to serve the Emperor. Repeat after me—"

"Hey-ey-ey, no, no!" Thorald raised his hands suddenly. "I didn't agree to fight for the Emperor. That's not why I'm here."

Tullius didn't look pleased. "This is basic procedure. If you're not fighting for the Emperor, how can you be fighting for us?"

"I supported the Stormcloaks because I wanted the best for Skyrim's people. I still do. Don't you want that?"

"Of course."

"Then our causes already match. I can't blindly pledge myself to an Emperor I've never even met."

"Thorald, it's merely a part of being in the Legion's chain of command. It's a formality we all defer to."

"You Imperials and your bloody sense of honor."

Tullius' eye twitched.

Thorald continued. "Can't I fight for you without having to… To jump through all those hoops? I can see how the Empire and the Nords have trouble."

"You were a prisoner of the Thalmor for a year as they tried to break your will, you supported the Stormcloaks, and you refuse to take an oath of service to the Empire." Tullius didn't sound particularly irritated, considering. "You must be aware of how that looks."

"May I ask you something, Tullius?"

"Certainly."

"Why are you even talking to me?" Thorald leaned forward onto his elbows. "I'm just one man, likely more trouble than he's worth, but I'm sitting here, sitting, taking up the valuable time of an Imperial general while a war with the Dominion is on the horizon. Why?"

"Good question." Tullius actually smirked. "If you're as strong-willed as you say you are, you could serve the Empire well enough to deserve my personal attention. So I ask you this, Thorald. How far are you willing to go?"

"In order to serve the Empire? If Skyrim truly is part of the Empire, then… I suppose I would do anything I might to serve Skyrim." Thorald shrugged and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. "And that would be… Anything. Fight, kill, die, whatever it took to protect our people."

"Spoken not terribly unlike a Legionnaire," Tullius murmured.

"Is that enough for you?"

"If you haven't taken the oath, then I can't formally admit you to the Legion. You won't receive a standard salary, and officially, you'll be unaffiliated with us. But you're a special case, Thorald. I'm no longer inclined to make you a rank-and-file Legionary."

"Well, if you want someone who can take over entire forts by himself, you should talk to Idolaf, not me."

"Come." Tullius stood up and strode over to the table. Thorald had little choice but to follow.

The general stood at the west end of the table, where Skyrim bordered Hammerfell and High Rock. "The Thalmor will attack from here. Our men in the Reach have intercepted dozens of Justiciars fleeing west through the highlands. Their rendezvous point, most likely, is somewhere in High Rock. They'd be fools to go to Hammerfell."

"I hope you're fortifying Markarth, then," Thorald offered. He was no strategist.

"You want to fight for us without… 'Jumping through hoops' that don't matter to you," Tullius said, ignoring Thorald's comment. "So I have an alternative proposition. You jump through hoops that do matter to you."

"What are you proposing, Tullius?"

"Very shortly, I will be assigning you to a mission. There will be no written record of this mission, and frankly, I'd rather you not speak about it with anyone. I've no doubt the Thalmor have at least one spy in Castle Dour."

"What are the… Details of this mission?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Tullius gave Thorald an indifferent look. "Relax, go join Idolaf. Divines know you could use some free time."

Thorald frowned. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he agreed to fight. But still, it was for the good of Skyrim. He couldn't say no to the ideal. "Very well."

Tullius nodded and stepped back. Thorald started to turn away, to exit the room, but suddenly turned back, one hand raised.

"One more thing," he said. "Why didn't you rescue me?"

"What?"

"I know it's an odd question, but… You knew the Thalmor had taken me prisoner. You didn't do anything about it. Why not?"

Tullius' face hardened. "Did anyone ever tell you why the Empire had to prohibit the worship of Talos? It didn't happen with the signing of the White-Gold Concordat. No, it happened when Ulfric Stormcloak started making noise."

"Idolaf said the same thing."

"We've been at the Thalmor's mercy, Thorald. Ulfric made a problem of it, the Thalmor started leaning on us, and we had to enforce the ban. We had Justiciars worming their way into everything we did. If I'd ordered you freed, they might not have even listened."

Thorald sighed. He must have known that would be the answer, even before he asked. "And now? Are we still at the Thalmor's mercy?"

"Now, the Thalmor have no more mercy for us left."