Jy'ma

The bards bickered amongst each other between rehearsals attempting to find ways to make themselves more noticeable for the wedding nearing its beginning. Jy'ma watched the primitive nature of the bards in Solitude's largest inn; The Winking Skeever. The bards fit the vain society that was Solitude. Asgeir Snow-Shod traveled from Riften to the far north to be with Vittoria Vicci, and their wedding brought a massive crowd. Solitude was already crowded, and the wedding only made the crowd larger, that didn't bother Jy'ma, he enjoyed the company of people. Solitude reminded Jy'ma of Cyrodiil's Imperial City; in the fact that many different societies met here and it was the capital of Skyrim where the High King Torygg resided. Though the High King was no longer around due to Ulfric's triumphant combat trial. Since the passing of the High King, his wife High Queen Elisif, had replaced him.

Jy'ma favored only one bard out of the many living in Solitude, a half-orc woman named Dezruth who was discriminated for her Orc heritage which showed more prominently than her other half. Long cherry colored hair, tanned skin with a hint of green, a soft human-like nose, and two long teeth protruding from her underbite, though not as sharp as a normal orc's teeth. She worked the bar when the Bard's College didn't allow her to sing, which was always.

"Excuse me, waitress." Jy'ma called as she passed by.

Dezruth turned to him and smiled. "Ah, the 'not suspicious' eye patched wearing 'honorary' cat of the public wedding." Her voice came out like silk, unlike the grovel of full-blooded Orcs.

"What a fine title you have graced me with. A pleasure to see you again."

"What can I get for you?"

"I have a request for a song. There was a bard in here with such a divine voice. I truly wish to hear them in a more isolated occasion."

Dezruth's smile turned to a slight frown. "Which bard are you making this request out to?"

"The bard who is asking the question."

Her face flustered "Me? I couldn't. I mean I shouldn't. Really. Viarmo said I'm not ready for public singing yet, and I don't even have a song ready to present."

"I believe that only you have the voice to sing at such an event as this, why do they not include you in their performances? I heard such a beautiful voice in the night. It would not be polite should a bard deny a request. I understand that the Orsimer woman sitting across the room is your mother. If not for me do it for her." Jy'ma placed a gold pouch onto the table.

Dezruth's eyes glistened at the coin when she opened it. "Um.. I"

"I believe your mother would enjoy to hear what true talent you have."

"If I took this what would you have me sing?"

"This one is aware the girl is quite fond of legends and myths. In honor of the recently dubbed Dragonborn, I believe a song about their arrival would be most fitting."

"I-I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

Dezruth scurried off to Viarmo, a rare tenderhearted High-Elf and head of the Bard's College. It was evident the gold enticed him to allow Dezruth to sing after she opened it to him. Viarmo headed over to the rest of the bards.

"Stop your instruments!" Viarmo said. "A fellow bard has received a specific request." The bards begrudgingly stopped performing their rehearsal songs. "Per honor of the White Khajiit. My lovely patrons, I present to you our newest member of the Bard's College- The fetching Half-Orc Half...um... Man; Dezruth!" He clapped for her as he backed off stage.

The crowd wasn't certain if they should clap for her yet so they only stared instead. Dezruth took the stage, bringing her own lute since no other member was stepping up to play for her. She sat upon the stool and nervously looked over the crowd. The tables around Jy'ma started to snicker at her. Another table commented on the hoarse voices of Orsimer and how brave she was to even try at all. She slowly began playing the lute. She became more calm as the notes played and the tavern hushed each other in response to her beginning. She finally started singing in a slowed somber tone.

"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart.I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art.Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes.Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows.You'll know, You'll know the Dragonborn's come."

Jy'ma smiled at the performance, amidst the astonished crowd. Hearing Dezruth sing the tale of the Dragonborn reminded Jy'ma of the Black Dragon that attacked Helgen. He remembered heading off to appraise a strange amulet at the Thieves Guild given to him by his client; Amaund Motierre. The Amulet turned out to be an Amulet of the Elder Council from Cyrodill that he then sold to Delvin Mallory after escaping his capture at the hands of the Imperials. Had Jy'ma not been heading to Riften he wouldn't have gotten a hunger for blood halfway there, forcing him to stop at a camp of villagers to feed. The mishap set him back a couple days, but he had fully bounced back and was excited to attend a wedding. When Dezruth stopped playing the lute Jy'ma began clapping, which called for the rest of the tavern to join in, Dezruth covered her face in embarrassment.

"She should be singing for the wedding with a voice like that!" A man cheered.

"An excellent performance Dezruth, truly, bravo!" Viarmo clapped up onto the stage. The crowd's cheers turned into more requests for Dezruth.

"Sing Age of Aggression next!" A man shouted out.

"Age of Aggression?" A woman retorted. "It's Age of Oppression, you home stealing Imperial!"

"What are you on about it's always been Age of Aggression! You people are the ones who've changed it!"

"The song is about protecting our home! It's obvious you added that Thalmor loving nonsense in!"

"Nobody likes the Thalmor, and the Song has nothing to do with them! It's about keeping the peace throughout all of Tamriel, you can't have that without Skyrim!"

The Solitude bells tolled, stopping the small altercation, and announced that it was time to begin the wedding.

"Dezruth would love to accept all of your requests, but we must be heading to the wedding before we're all late!" Viarmo said as he rounded up the rest of the bards.

The bards scrambled to pack up their instruments and head out the door. The Winking Skeever emptied in a matter of minutes, Jy'ma caught a glimpse of Dezruth sighing as he left with the crowd. Solitude's immaculate bustling city of carriages, horses, and finely dressed noblemen and women, all rushed to get to Castle Dour's Courtyard. Jy'ma stuck to the sidelines calmly walking behind the growing crowd. He looked up along the castle walls to see the guards monitoring the people as they went under the castle gates. The Thalmor were also present, scowling down upon the citizens in disgust.

Jy'ma and the crowd slowly made their way into The Courtyard which was decorated beautifully by white flowers from all over Skyrim. Solitude's red, silver, and black wolf banner was used to line every piece of cloth, the carpet that was rolled out for the couple was accentuated by a white trim, pews lined up near and far facing the couple's throne which faced the crowd. The wedding was heavily guarded, as anticipated for Emperor Titus Mede II's cousin, Vittoria. Solitude's most heavily armored guards covered the wedding from top to bottom. The wedding was like a symbol of progress towards peace to those living in Skyrim. The bride, an Imperial from Solitude, and her groom, a wealthy Nord from Riften. Asgeir's whole family heavily supported the Stormcloaks. Vittoria Oversaw the East Empire Trading Company which handled the import and export trade from the Empire to Skyrim. Because of this, It served no surprise that the Snow-Shod family were making clear their hatred for the Empire, even in the Capital of Skyrim itself where the Empire reigned supreme. Jy'ma's ears perked up listening in on an oncoming verbal fight.

"Typical Imperial rot." Vulwulf Snow-Shod's voice carried harshly over the crowd of citizens. "You speak of Skyrim like you know the land, know its people. You're from Cyrodiil! You know nothing about us! Nothing!"

Alexia Vici scoffed at his attempts to antagonize her. "Oh, I know enough. I know those trouble-making Stormcloaks refuse to submit to Imperial authority. Such seditious behavior. Why it's treason!"

"And when the elves marched into your beloved Cyrodiil, and everyone took up arms against them, wasn't that treason? Against the Dominion? Huh?"

"Why that's not the same thing at all. The Dominion were invaders. Conquerors. We had to fight them, to preserve our own way of life."

"My point exactly."

Jy'ma enjoyed their banter but it was interrupted by an announcement that put everyone on their best behavior, Stormcloak or Imperial.

"All rise for High Queen Elisif!" One of the guards called out as a team of them escorted her into the courtyard.

The audience stood up to honor the High Queen. A gorgeous woman clearly not crafted to lead a war of any sort. She was more delicate than the usual Nord, fair skinned and luscious amber locks. Red and gold robes locked between bits of armor covered her body accented by a shawl baring the Empire's dragon sigil, a circlet rested on her head encrusted with rubies. By appearance alone, Jy'ma felt it was the more logical scenario that she would side with the Empire. He had little faith in the Stormcloak army, especially those against the newly brought in forces of General Tullius. He had even less faith after being captured by the Empire himself, though who won the war mattered little to him.

"A marriage of both love and political advantage, a rare sight I could not miss." Lady Elisif said to the crowd before moving along.

The Queen had her own seat far away from the audience, whether or not it was to remove attention from her, it was hard for most to not notice such a powerful figure nearby. The door that led into the Temple of the Divines opened from behind the crowd, everyone stared back to watch High Priest Rorlund walk down the runway. The wedding was finally underway. The Bards began playing their rehearsed songs that mostly everyone knew by heart at this point. Rorlund ordered Asgeir to walk down the aisle, A large white shawl covered his black and red robes, his blonde hair was kept braided behind his head. When Rorlund called for Vittoria Vici, the faces of both parties lit up to her. She wore a red and white gown that hung by her feet, and her black hair was accented by a floral crown of gold. When they met at the end of the aisle the two took their seats holding another's hand. The patrons to the wedding all rose to deliver their gifts to the couple. Jy'ma moved with the crowd and pulled out his own gift from his robe. He patiently waited until he was next in line and approached the two with a smile.

"This one has a gift for the groom." Jy'ma said.

"Well hand it here then Khajiit! I've felt slightly neglected here with Vittoria taking most of the gifts!" Asgeir teased.

"My friend, a Khajiit to say. I knew your sister Lilija when she was serving as a healer for the Stormcloaks. She was such a gentle woman, this war takes the best of us. I promised to give her a special brew from Elsweyr should we ever meet again. It would mean much to me if you would take it in her place." Jy'ma presented the concoction from a small rectangular vial, swishing the purple liquid inside.

"In honor of my sister absolutely. A friend of hers is a friend of mine!" He quickly gulped the whole bottle down in one go. "This taste is amazing!"

"Slow down your drinking for later, my dear." Vittoria chuckled.

"A Nord never knows when to stop drinking! What is your name, friend?" Asgeir asked.

"This one is referred to as Jy'ma." Jy'ma said bowing his head.

"Well Jy'ma, I'd say this may even rival Maven Black-Briar's mead if it were a proper ale. I dare to say I'd like another one should you have the time to make it. My sister would have loved it, thank you."

"No, thank you. Congratulations to the both of you. May you be bound until death."

"Come now! Anymore gifts?" Asgeir joyously shouted.

Many more guests brought gifts and food for the couple to share. Time trailed on as Jy'ma waited for the wedding to come to a close.

When the flow of presents ended Vittoria made a suggestion. "My love. I feel we should address the people before it gets late."

Asgeir cleared his throat. "Of course my dear. Let us go to address them from the balcony." He began to have coughing fit after getting up from his seat.

Vulwulf hurried to get water for his son. "Are you alright, boy?" He said as his son downed the drink. "You haven't gone soft on drinking already have you?"

"No. I'm fine. Damn this Solitude weather. No feeble change it seems." Asgeir breathed heavily.

"Let us not waste more time. You've had plenty tonight, save the rest for later." Vittoria urged.

"Of course. Let us be done with this."

The two hurried up to the balcony and came out overlooking the audience. Vittoria smiled and began addressing the guests.

"Honored guests. Good people of Solitude. Good friends and neighbors."

Asgeir pulled at his collar while Vittoria continued her speech.

"I just wanted to take this time to thank you all for being here. To thank you for sharing this wonderfully happy day with myself, and my new husband."

She turned to Asgeir and attempted to take his hand but he pulled away fast.

"Unhand me!" He shouted at her

"Asgeir, what's gotten into you?" Vittoria pulled back.

"Who are you?" He shouted in delusion.

"Your wife of course?" Vittoria attempted to grab him once more and he pushed her to the edge of the balcony. "Asgeir?"

Asgeir pulled out his blade and lunged it into the breast of Vittoria, her lifeless body flipped over the balcony and plopped onto the ground below. Screams from the crowd erupt at the sight, the guards pulled out their blades and began to charge up to the balcony but were stopped by a green scaled Argonian named Veezara.

"FOR THE GLORY OF ULFRIC STORMCLOAK!" He shouted as he began slashing at the party guests.

The guards quickly moved to protect Elisif and escorted her away from the Courtyard, pushing away citizens. The stampede of people that attempted to move away from Veezara resulted in many of them falling over and being trampled. The white flowers turned red, and the wedding became stained with the blood of the upper-class. Jy'ma calmly arose from his seat and silently walked away into the distressed crowd of Solitude, passing the enraged guards as they rushed to stop the Argonian.