It is late evening as I make my way to Castle Dour. It is drizzling with a slight chill in the air just the way I like it. I'm quite well protected from the elements underneath double sets of robes that hide my face and nearly all traces of my Black Marsh ancestry. Only my long nose and swinging tale give away my non-conformity to the standard Nord appearance.
The light rain gently pelts the very tip of my snout as I walk up the slick stone path to the castle. It was a rainy night then, too. Years ago I was already brimming with confidence as I presented myself before the late Captain Maro at this very spot. I remember the look on his face as I gave him the dead Orsimer's pilfered writ of passage. It was a wild night of poisoned food, ambushes, betrayal and narrow escapes that ended almost literally with flight. My tail straight as an arrow I had flung myself from Solitude's land mass to the ocean below to escape the city guard and the Penitus Oculatus. Injured I still managed to sneak into my own home that very hour so that even my own Thane would not suspect me.
It had been many years since the first attempt on Titus Mede but memories are long for such events and the careful assassin never returns to the scene of a crime unless it was absolutely necessary. My paranoia would not allow me to relax but in reality there was little I could do if some sharp eyed guard recognized me. As far as I knew everyone I served at the table that night including the cook was dead. That only left around three guards who might have possibly seen my face before I covered it when making my hasty exit. What were the odds of those three being among the ones I would meet tonight? Seven years later? My hood was practically blocking my vision it was so far pulled down.
If only Astrid had not been so petty none of this would be necessary. I would not had to fight my way through dozens of Oculatus and would not have had to kill her with her own blade. I had to believe that my position here was inviolate; I'd already been questioned that same night and caused such a row about it that few would dare bring up the subject again. It would be quite difficult to be accused of a crime from years ago that I had already been exonerated of. Perhaps I was simply becoming too paranoid.
The brooding mage look would do for now. I could even pretend that I was worried about my own safety since I took no escort with me. These days I did not officially leave Windhelm much and my Guard was out where they should be in the field. While I still spent a great deal of my time avoiding my Jarl duties as best I could some functions could not be left to a Steward. A meeting with a long time ally and one of my staunchest supporters demanded my personal attention.
The men at the entrance to the castle are expecting company and I hold up a writ of passage that was actually for me. They don't even bother checking it as they wave me into the towering castle and I duck my head out of the rain. Ushered into the main hall I see General Tullius waiting for me.
"Jarl." he greeted in his reserved Imperial tone.
"General!" I call out in my gravely voice. Despite his passive demeanor I know the General is pleased to see me. Together by force and subterfuge we had ousted all of the former Stormcloak-friendly Jarls in the last few years. With their leader dead and Windhelm prospering above the other holds it was not difficult convincing the people around the jarls to assist in deposing them.
I extend my hand and we grip each other's forearms in friendly embrace. It was a good arrangement between us with my intel and the General's might. There was no need to make it seem like I could match him in strength if I had to. "Good to see you again, my lord."
"Come," he gestured. "We have much to discuss."
Inviting me to join him on a long table that would easily fit twenty people the Imperial knows by now not to bother setting food out. Instead there is only a bottle of his good Cyrodiil red and he pours as I pull out my chair. With only a couple of guards around I took the chance to lose a clothing layer. Dropping the dark, heavy robe on the back of the chair I reveal an outfit of pure white hidden underneath. An expensive and impressive piece of custom work hand made by Taarie's shop it was laced with gold and silver thread along the arms. The embroidered stitching came to a point at the cuffs where it became twin symbols of Windhelm. On the back was my personal draconic symbol that had come to be familiar to anyone traveling around Eastmarch.
"Robes fit for a king." Tullius commented dryly.
"This old rag? Had this just laying around." I grin from under my white hood as I set the darker clothing on the back of my chair.
"I understand that your commemoration of the Hold Games went surprisingly well."
"Yes, as well as it could have for me anyway." I shrug.
"I thought they were to be yearly competitions?"
"Originally yes but I thought making them in three year intervals would make them more special."
"Ah, so the next will be in 209?"
"Correct." I confirm.
"And how did the bronze in submission wrestling feel?" Tullius jabbed.
"I wish I was aware they grew Nords that large before I entered." I say ruefully. "You try escaping an ankle lock from a two hundred and seventy-five pound Nord monster. I'll get him next time."
"I imagine coming back to Solitude is something of an occasion for you." he said as I took my seat and folded my robe in my lap.
"It has been far too long." I admit.
"I understand your position in Windhelm is quite strong. One would think you prefer the comforts of your own palace enough to not miss this city."
"My palace belongs to the people of Windhelm more than I."
"So it seems." the Imperial said as he took a seat. "I do want to offer my and the Empire's condolences to your guard corps. Losing good men is never easy."
Though I rarely had the chance to fight with my men in open combat anymore I still knew all of them personally. Many were acquaintances, well reputed mercenaries and former stalwart companions of mine. Assigned to caravans and where ever else they were needed the Dragonguard had become famous even outside of Skyrim. They were both Windhelm's shields and elite shock troops who had earned a fearless reputation.
Only once in the three years since their inception were they bested and it was recent enough for the General to offer his sympathy. Four months ago I had lost two good friends of mine in an all out raid on a bandit stronghold in the Rift. They had learned to keep out of Eastmarch but this group was interfering with trade with the southern hold. My guard took it upon themselves to rid the land of this scourge and while they were successful in scattering the bandits it cost me two of my best. My intrepid scout Annekke Crag-Jumper who I was friends and nearly more with years ago on the road. The other was a stout Khajit guard whom I'd helped half a decade ago recover a priceless heirloom.
I had them buried on a plot I cleared myself on the 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar. Their names were inscribed on their armor which the Guard took possession of and the dragon suits would be claimed by two similarly skilled combatants. Though they were all known to me I was closer to Annekke than most and her passing hit harder than I would have liked.
I had gone quiet a few long moments to reflect on all of this. "I'm sorry, General." I shake my head. "It is too recent a wound. Many of my guard are not only followers but dear friends."
"Yes, I know well your pain. It is good that a Jarl might still care for his men as you do."
"Well." I move on. "We mourn our lost friends but we celebrate what they have accomplished."
"I must admit that when you told me your plans for Windhelm years ago I was skeptical." Tullius conceded. "But no one can deny that you have created a state so favorable that even the most stubborn of Nords prefers your rule to others."
"Our caravans are highly protected without any charge to our clients." I say with no small amount of pride. "As you can imagine our goods and services are in high demand. In fact, with the recent training partnership with the Orsimer we have opened trade to Orc holds in Eastmarch and the Rift. Of course the success of the hot houses is becoming widely known and I get requests almost daily for our craftsmen to set them up in other holds. Thanks to our civil loan programs we've also increased our citizenship dramatically. Who wouldn't want to join us?"
"When do you begin construction on these hot houses in other holds exactly?" Tullius asked.
"I'm open to sharing our advances with other Jarls. Provided they are used prudently and not to increase the personal coffers of a Jarl or his friends."
"Mmm, yes. More maneuvers to fully consolidate your position."
I smile with gleaming teeth under my white hood. "Are not all maneuvers made to consolidate one's position General?"
"Few mask them as well as you do, Jarl." he said in what was half compliment and half warning. "Long ago when we first met I did not think you capable of what you have done. That is not a mistake I intend to make again. Now, what is your end game in this? Is all of this to take you in triumph to the heart of the Empire?"
"Ah. I see." I begin to understand. "You think I desire the throne of Cyrodiil itself."
"It had occurred to me. And to others." he said shrewdly.
"Relax, General. I've no desire to expand beyond Skyrim's borders. That is the domain of an Imperial."
"Are you quite sure about that?" he pressed.
"Perhaps in distant time, long after you and I have returned to the ground, a son of Skyrim may yet sit on a Septim throne. But it will not be I nor my progeny."
"You will leave no heir?" he asked in disbelief.
"Correct." I confirm. "An Argonian line does not benefit Skyrim and the ghost of Ulfric Stormcloak may rise again in protest. Even with a proper Nord wife I could not do this."
"Ah..." the General appeared suddenly uncomfortable. "I...forgive me for asking but...can you...sire an heir with a Nord woman?"
I throw back my head to have a hearty laugh at the thought. I'm told the sound is reminiscent of a rough wood saw carving into a mighty oak. "No, General. My...heritage does not mix well with humans or mer. You may be thinking of Khajit who as far as I know as much more likely to produce offspring with humans as they already give live births. I do not think a human body would know how to lay eggs."
The General actually went slightly red and I was amazed as I had never seen such a reaction from him before. Continuing I say, "Of course maybe I simply have not yet tested myself on enough variety. Perhaps if you would supply a steady grouping of women from different men and mer races we can begin a thorough scientific investigation into this matter."
Now completely red the General let out a very quiet, "...heheheh."
"By Azura, I managed to make the leader of the Fourth Legion crack the slightest of smiles. Now I can go on to the afterlife happy."
Composing himself the general pretended to sip from his cup and harumphed to himself. "Ahem. Now, without an heir who do you intend to leave your duties to?"
"A well groomed replacement. Perhaps a child of one of the Jarls." I smile as I gloss over the last incident. "In times of crises maybe Cyrodiil will look to Skyrim for a new leader."
"Are you suggesting that a High King of Skyrim could serve as an Emperor?"
"Why not?" I ask. "Your history is replete with times of chaos where a warlord took over pieces of a fractured Empire. Such periods of instability wreak havoc on all of Tamriel. As long as Skyrim remains whole and strong then who better to step in during uncertainty? Who better than a High King descended from Ysgramor and possibly Tiber Septim?"
"They wouldn't be from the Septim line though I'm sure you're crafty enough to get around that." Tullius said. "A Nord as the Emperor again. Trained by you, no doubt."
"Of course." I nod. "Who better to instruct a fledgling god-king?"
Leaning back Tullius took in everything we had been talking about. The man had a mind like a steel trap and he would remember the details of the conversation long after we had parted. "Now I see why men cannot figure out your motives and reasons, Jarl. You're planning for events beyond our lifetimes. You've always been."
"Correct again, General." I verify. "We must look beyond ourselves for a higher path. Do you know why I have come to rely on you these last few years?"
"Because it benefits you."
"No, General. Because like me you care for this land even though it is not your home. You are driven not by ambition but duty to be everything the Empire stands for. Had you been anything else I would not trust you as I do. I hope you understand that it is not personal glory I seek in this."
Tullius watched me closely as he said, "And this little stunt you're planning?"
"That's just proving a point, my lord." I smile. "Just make sure your men know to not do anything rash and the guests are unarmed and everything will be fine."
Sipping at his wine Tullius drew out his response. "All right, Verax Whitescale. I'll back you. But mark my words if you are untrue I will do everything in my power to remove you."
"Oh General, I would expect nothing less."
